#i just feel like it's kind of wild to actually blame him for rob being less interested in sunny or liking money

[psymachine]

bros...i'm sorry, but rob mcelhenney is a grown-ass man. literally the only reason he's like this now is because he wants to be lmao

[italiansteebie]

Love on Screen

Episode Five, four, three, two, one

It had been months (gaining on a year) of content and collaboration from the two creators now, and they hadn’t made any move to announce that they were together. Dustin began to think they really were just friends, but the way they called each other ‘babe’ in passing and he honestly thinks Eddie has moved in with Steve because he never seems to leave, and the guy even tells Eddie to ‘go to his room’ sometimes. Does that mean he has a room in Steve’s house? Ugh, what does it matter anyways, the content is flowing and still, Dustin is loving it.

He walked through the halls of his highschool, slumping against the wall and sliding down it. He was on his lunch break, and look, he would eat in the cafeteria, but that place was like the wild west and he just… Chooses to not get involved. His friends all had a different lunch period and he really didn’t feel like sitting with…. Well, no one. So he settled in against his usual spot against the wall near Mr. Clark’s class, and grabbed his paper bag lunch out of his backpack and chomped into the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he packed. He scrolled through instagram carelessly, looking for any source of entertainment, really. A few pictures of Eddie, a few pictures of Steve, some of Robin and Nancy, he’s really seen them all. He can’t blame them, not every aspect of their lives are going to be recorded for his entertainment but damn. He was fucking bored. He sighed and put his phone down, deciding to focus on his lunch.

“Hey, Dustin. Another floor lunch I see?” It was Mr. Clark. He knew Dustin sat outside of his classroom and made it a point to check in almost every day. It was nice, even though it made Dustin feel kind of like a troubled loner or something. (If he was being honest, he kind of was). He looked up at Mr. Clark, “Yeah. I usually watch these youtubers… I think they went here, actually. Uh. But they haven’t uploaded in a few days. You know what youtube is, right?” Mr. Clark laughed, throwing his head back, “Yes, Dustin. I know what youtube is, and you must be talking about Steve and Robin. Boy, they were two peas in a pod. It’s nice to see them so successful nowadays. I taught them one year actually. They weren’t the best students when they were together.” Mr. Clark explained, effectively blowing Dustin’s mind. Could he have sat in Steve’s seat? He felt like a proper fan girl at that moment.

Dustin nodded along to Mr. Clark, eventually saying their goodbyes as Dustin returned to his lunch. Dustin let his head fall back against the wall, it was times like these when he really wished he had lunch with his friends. He usually got by okay watching Steve goes to Hell and corrodededdie’s compilations but when there wasn’t any content, the loneliness really began to set in.

He was just about to make the studious decision to work on his homework when his phone buzzed, ‘Nancy and Rob have uploaded a new video titled: Gays throw a party.’ Hm. It wasn’t what he usually liked to watch, but at least it was something. He tapped on the video, earbuds firmly in place, it opened with Nancy running around the house, trying to get it organized, while Robin laughed at her meticulousness. Five minutes into the video, the party was in full swing, many youtubers and various friends in attendance, including Steve and Eddie who seemed to be hanging off each other for most of the thing.

The video was pretty entertaining, there were interactions between people Dustin never thought would happen, for example, Jim Hopper, who made nature survival videos, was there for some reason, and the younger creators seemed to be pretty close with him despite the… Oddness of it all.

The 10 minute mark of the video was when he saw it.

In the dark background, he could softly make out Steve and Eddie dancing in the corner. It was sweet, a little close for a couple of friends, but sweet nonetheless. And then, oh and then, he watched as their lips met in a way that was too practiced to be a drunken mistake. Holy shit. “Holy shit!” His outburst caught the attention of a nearby teacher to which he whispered an apology. He rewound the video and watched the same clip about 19 times. Holy shit, holy shit he was fucking right, he was right! He began screen recording the video and zoomed in on the… moment between his two favorite youtubers. This might be the best day of his life, and he’s not kidding. Them being together, and living together? Oh man. It made his cynic heart believe in love again. (Look, Suzie had broken up with him a few months ago and he was a little tender, leave him alone). He did what any fan would do, and immediately posted it, pointing out what he had seen. He also sent it to Mike, with an ‘I fucking told you so,’ because he did.

He also sent it to Will with a winky face and a rainbow emoji. He knew that Will occasionally watched ‘Steve goes to hell' and thought that he might like this news. And based on the 15 smiley faces he sent back, Dustin decided it was a good call on his part.

—

“Steve, oh my god. I am so sorry.” Robin’s anxious voice filtered through the phone as soon as he picked it up. “What are you talking about?” He responded, he wondered if what he was about to hear would ruin his life only slightly, or in a more major way. He hoped for the first option, Eddie had just moved in and they really didn’t need another big change so soon.

“In Nance and I’s most recent video…”

“Just tell me Rob, do I need to flee the country or?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that, just. In the background of my party vlog, you can see you and Eddie kissing. Like, pretty clearly.”

Steeve felt himself relax, he and Eddie were both publicly out, respectively, and they were recently considering making an “official” announcement because apparently that is what you do when you’re in the public eye and dating someone who is also in the public eye. He pondered for a moment before deciding that this was actually a good thing, it was a great segway into their relationship becoming public. (Even though he knows their viewers were always really suspicious of them).

“Steve?” Robin’s hesitant voice came through the speaker, and that broke Steve out of his thoughts. “Oh! Sorry, got lost in my thoughts, uh. This is actually a good thing, me and Eds were just talking about making an announcement or whatever so… Like perfect timing.”

He heard Robin sigh in relief, “Oh thank god. I really am sorry though, I thought I caught everything during editing.”

“No big, Robs. I’m gonna call Eddie.”

He said his goodbyes and tapped Eddie’s contact, waiting for him to pick up. “Hey baby,” Steve loved the sound of his boyfriend’s voice over the phone. “Hey Eds. So look. In Rob's last video, y’know the party vlog?” Eddie hummed over the phone. “In the background of one clip we can be seen kissing.” He waited for Eddie’s answer. He knew he was fine with it but a small part of him was nervous Eddie would completely freak out. “Oh okay. That’s like perfect timing.” Steve felt his shoulders drop in relief, “That’s exactly what I said! Okay cool. I’ll see you when you get home baby. Plenty of kisses waiting for you here.” He said. “I’m looking forward to it.” And Steve could practically hear the smirk.

So it was settled. They’d be recording their official relationship announcement tomorrow. (They know it won’t come as a surprise).

[wild-grinders]

least favorite wild grinders character?

Anon you are unleashing a writing demon from within me because this character almost had an entire rant in the third part of my analysis if it weren't for my brain being stressed and tired that day.

It's Stubford.

Like, we love his VA, Erin F. in this house and talking positively about Wild Grinders, but Stubford is a character that I don't like.

If you think that Lil' Rob steals the spotlight all the time, then you should be more annoyed by Stubford. Because Stubford literally gets more development than you think.

'The Big Sleep... Over'

'Wild BFFs'

'Wild Zombies'

All of these episode did more in favor of Stubford's character and it never gets interrupted.

But that's not the thing that makes me upset the most.

Because you see the thing is... Stubford was never a character intended for the original Ketterville-canon. He never existed until they made the TV series. And he managed to always insert himself in. Almost. Every. Episode.

Yes, he was made to be the antagonist of the series because the TV series needed a villain. But we literally had his father for that role. And not only that, but Stubford is more of an annoyance than a real villain in the series. He didn't bring anything to the table, except for killing what could have been an actual plot.

And it's not just about his annoying appearances. The script writers were constantly retracting him from having any other status. There were episodes dedicated to being nice to Stubford, but he never reconsiders his actions @ the Wild Grinders.

We know his character is literally Bowser Jr. But make it more depressing. In the series, he obviously has hatred @ the Wild Grinders because of his home life. His father neglects him and his mother is an entire enigma who's not involved with his life. He takes his anger and hatred out on the Wild Grinders, but never blames his parents. He relies on his father for new products. He tries to make his father proud, but always fails to. He was taught that money and materialism could only make him happy.

And throughout the series, he really just wants to have friends and connection and be loved. He's jealous of the Wild Grinders and feels the need to ruin them for the sake of his happiness. If he can't have friends, then no one can.

There are multiple moments where the Wild Grinders try to be nice to him, but Stubford would rather stay the way he is.

This is really what pisses me off about this kid.

It's literally in the name too. Stubford = Stubborn. He gets many episodes where the script writers feel bad for him, but he chooses to never reciprocate forgiveness or gestures of kindness. He selfishly takes the kindness for himself only to go back to being treating them awfully.

It just feels unnecessary to have a character like this. Who lives in this kind of cycle and just repeats his mistakes. (In Pokemon, Team Rocket is a reoccurring villain, but there are times where they can be capable of being redeemed and having common sense to help Ash). Stubford, just continues to take and take kindness from the Wild Grinders and never thankful for it. Like, Stubford would never even help the Wild Grinders in a life-or-death-situation.

He's just a wasteful character who's not a huge threat. There's no point to his character being in the TV series if his evil plots always fail and are easy to overcome. It makes the plot boring even.

Like, you really want to hate Stubford because of him being an entire annoyance. But at the same time, he's a character who's being neglected by his family and you have to feel bad for him. It just feels difficult to have that sort of character in your writing because eventually, it's just tiring.

IF IF they wanted to do better for Stubford's role as a villain, then they should have taken inspiration from Simon in Trollz (2005). Literally almost the same character, but Simon is a greater threat to the main cast. He's an actual villain child. And oh boy, he does worse to the main characters.

Overall, my dislike for Stubford is that he doesn't do a lot for the TV series. If they didn't make him a reoccurring villain, then the plot of Wild Grinders would have been completely different and force the writers to work on building the main cast's story.

TLDR;

Stubford doesn't do anything for the plot.

[lilyclawthorne]

Hunting Palismen Thoughts

y'all I absolutely loved this episode

oh we're JUMPING right in with day of unity stuff huh. we didn't go from 0 to 10 we started at 10.

anyways, starting off, this whole thing is fascinating to me. I mean this literally looks like a small human city. who are the worthy that get to live here according to belos. if its a unification of the realms, what happens to the humans? do they live here too? how does this affect society?? so many questions

kiki is pissed and im starting to predict that the reason Lilith, GG, and Kiki were all apart of the same slide in the title isn't because Lilith will slide backwards like some were worried about, but that all three of them are people who will have betrayed the emperor at some point

what the fuck is belos. the thumping/punching he made was in time with the beat of a heart. makes me think of the heart behind his throne and how are they connected.

UNCLE?? OUR FAMILY IS GONE BECAUSE OF WILD MAGIC??

TITLE CARD CHANGES AHHH

oh im so worried amity's not there because her mom's mad about her hair. that being said, some of the students here I assumed were a bit older (like jerbo and viney) and ed & em also aren't here. could potentially be that their parents didn't want any of them involved with this palismen adoption? or maybe im trying hard to be hopeful she's not in huge trouble over the hair

FREWIN!! this is the outcome for the little guy in Bump's head is better than anything I could've thought of. Aside from his legitimate use of helping Bump see, I am curious though if this is a bit of a "hidden in plain sight" kind of thing as well to protect the little guy.

PALISMAN ADOPTION DAY!! I WAS RIGHT!! I guessed the forest palismen would get adopted and I'm so glad about it.

I love Eda's blazer. She's trying to look professional. I love that this is what she planned on her favor from BQ being. Just to help out some young witches and some lost palismen. She cares so much 🥺

ok but if the unification of the realms does end up happening, I totally see Gus being an ambassador to the human realm.

There's a lot of attention of Luz here, and I'm just imagining how a similar situation might've gone down on the human realm. I don't blame her for getting anxious here, because I feel like in the past attention like this would've gone far worse at her school. I appreciate that most people here are just calm asking questions that are intended to help (except you Boscha) or Eda just checking in on her.

"I've read stories like this, the main character always has to return home" very interesting. seeing how this show has emphasized how life isn't like fiction.

Eda's just listening in like a mom concerned about her child

Tired Luz is adorable.

LMAO WHY IS GG WHISTLING THE THEME SONG

These two have such an insane amount of sibling energy I love it. This situation? Me and my brothers have done this way too many times.

uh so can a coven mark actually be removed?? since the EC one is also on the wrist but Lilith definitely hasn't been seen with anything there? that's kind of a relief since I was worried that since coven marks can help control magic that her still having one could be bad for her

It's not unsurprising that GG, as a powerless witch, would be interested in wild magic and Luz's glyphs. the kind of stuff you don't need a bile sac for. that kinda sucks he knows there's something out there he probably could use, but isn't allowed to do so

Hunter!! I don't need to do a name meaning here this one's obvious. Also, this boy's gonna crack and swap sides I can tell.

This is the most shit-eating grin I think I've ever seen on Eda. She's so proud of herself and she should be!

I also love this because we literally started this show with Luz helping Eda and King rob the conformatorium, and now we're at King and Eda robbing somewhere to do something special for Luz 🥺

Kiki and GG are so petty with each other, it's not just Kiki and Lilith. This is the whole workplace dynamic isn't it.

GG's room design definitely came from the Lilith bedroom design didn't it. Also I love the little Sprig plush!! I think that's a Big City Greens reference in there too but I've never watched that show.

I am very concerned about him and this palisman too. Not about him but just about Belos finding the palisman.

My one other thing I wanted to mention is I definitely feel like I'm seeing more and more disability metaphor in the show. If we see Eda's curse and her subsequent loss of a power as a disability, then GG/Hunter being born without magic could be considered a disability too. He's only been given access to one way of doing magic and it seems to limit him, he's being cut off from a different way of doing magic, the glyphs that Eda is learning, which clearly seem to be able to allow the user to do magic almost anywhere and could be more effective than Belos' artificial magic.

I'm also curious about Bump, he has the kind of palisman Belos wants to do away with, but it's not just a way to do magic for him. It's an aide for his vision. Belos' ideals would also be taking away something from him or other witches who may also be using their palismen as an aide.

[cruelfeline]

Anyone who hangs about Twitter potentially saw an unfortunate Hordak take cross their timelines today. 

As is custom on this blog, I’ll be taking it apart for my own personal amusement (and for the amusement of any of y’all who like to watch me do so). I doubt the poster will see this, as they’re on Twitter and not apparently on here, but in case they do: this is for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of followers; it absolutely does not need to be responded to if that’s not your cup of tea. 

So, that little disclaimer in place, let’s see what we can make of this! Because this is on Medium, I’ll be using screenshots as quotes; just a heads-up.

So... this first bit isn’t really anything Hordak-related. It’s more... fandom drama, I suppose? Not really something I can pick apart. I can, however, give my own personal opinion on this sort of thing, for what it’s worth.

It’s true that people can and should be able to feel whichever way they wish about a character. And to talk about that character. 

However: it is also true that people who dislike Hordak can be very unpleasant in making that known to those of us who enjoy him. Including descending into personal insults for no discernible reason. Add to that the fact that his character means a great deal to some fans for intensely personal reasons, and it is not difficult to see why some fans aren’t keen to see anti-Hordak content on their timelines, in their mentions, etc.

Censoring character hate isn’t a requirement, but in some circumstances, it can simply be a polite thing to do. It doesn’t take great effort, and it prevents people from experiencing just another bit of unpleasantness on their social media. And if you don’t want to do it? Well, that’s your right; but don’t be shocked when people voice their displeasure by replying to your words. Because that is their right.

And that’s all I really have to say about that. 

Odd way to phrase things, really. These aren’t “reasons to forgive.” The first two scenes involve Catra’s asphyxiations and are things that would need to be forgiven, not things to forgive.

Though, y’know, I really only apply that to the first scene, where he assaults her without her necessarily doing anything wrong. Mind you, I believe he does it out of a combination of needing to maintain a hierarchy for safety purposes (this is a man who needs people to be afraid of him to maintain his own safety) and poor leadership skills mimicked from a narcissist, but it’s still a terrible thing.

However! The second time? After he asks her about Shadow Weaver? This isn’t torture-fun-times. This is Hordak neutralizing a threat to the entire Horde. Because that is what Catra is in this moment: a threat to the security and wellbeing of him and the entirety of the Fright Zone. She lies about a critical mistake. She proves herself to not only have poor judgment in serious matters, but to be very willing to lie about it in order to guard her own selfish motives. While I can’t condone the method Hordak uses, I do wish people would stop using this second instance of punishment as some sort of proof-of-torture. He does not do this for no reason. He does it because Catra released a dangerous prisoner into the wild and lied about it. And his concerns over it ultimately prove correct.

This entire qualification doesn’t have much to do with whether he deserves forgiveness or not, but it’s a point I want to make because it combats this idea that Hordak did this to an innocent girl “for no reason” or “just to be cruel.” That’s simply not the case; no matter how unpleasant the method, Hordak is a military leader punishing a subordinate for seriously endangering him and everyone else in the organization. Badly. I don’t know what the equivalent would be in modern military, but Catra’s error is massive. It doesn’t make what Hordak does right, but it does give a reason other than a simple “he’s a bad, bad man.” So.

Adding this scene is... actually kind of odd because he doesn’t really do anything to Adora here. And also: this scene is... what’s the word... meaningful-in-hindsight, so to speak. Essentially: in this scene, Adora is claiming that Hordak is responsible for stealing her, for robbing her of a peaceful life with her family. And Hordak is claiming that he neither knows nor cares who she is, and that she does not matter to him. 

The interesting aspect of this scene, and something that OP fails to acknowledge at all, is that both Adora and Hordak are wrong.

let’s see if I can talk about this without crying... nope, already starting to tear up

Hordak never stole Adora; Light Hope did. Hordak did not orchestrate this unfortunate life for her. Rather, Hordak, a lost clone dealing with his own insecurities and fears and problems, found an equally lost infant in a field and gave her the only home he really knew how to create (and one that, for its flaws, was still better than the absolute nightmare he was “raised” in). In all likelihood, given Light Hope’s lack of understanding of infants, he probably saved Adora’s life by doing this: without him, she may well have perished alone in that field.

Hordak likewise does remember her, eventually. And she is not inconsequential to him: by saving her, he ends up saving himself, and all of his brothers. By forging this near-unknown bond with her all those years ago, by choosing to take in an infant rather than letting her die, he plays a key role in deciding the fate of the universe. 

This scene that OP sarcastically claims is a reason Hordak shouldn’t be forgiven has a sibling:

The fact that OP apparently fails to recognize this and realize that these are the only two moments in the series during which Adora and Hordak directly interact, that they’re a pair, means that OP misses the connection between the two and the significance of how they misjudge one another initially. It indicates a lack of understanding of the themes of the show: themes centered around connections with other people, love, and forgiveness. Which, given the contents of this essay, is unsurprising.

Moving on!

Y’know, whether or not one believes, in terms of definition, that Hordak is a colonizer (I personally don’t for pedantic and clone-cult reasons, but that’s not really relevant to this post), it’s interesting that OP notes how Stevenson confirms that he is... but conveniently leaves out the part where she confirms that he did it because he was brainwashed.

That’s... an important piece of information to leave out when discussing whether Hordak should be forgiven or not. A very important piece.

And it doesn’t really matter whether he’s a colonizer or a conqueror; the reason it comes up is because people seem very stuck in the mindset of “if it’s a colonizer, it must die” without acknowledging any sort of nuance. There’s also the question of whether what Hordak did actually caused the same sort of upheaval and lasting damage we see resulting from legitimate colonization, and all of the implications of that, but this isn’t really the place to go into that. Honestly, I don’t really think SPoP as a whole is the place to go into that.

No. Hordak is not the person who taught her all of these things. 

Shadow Weaver is.

Hordak did not personally teach her that Princesses are evil. He did not teach her that wanton cruelty is fine in getting one’s own way. He did not feed her propaganda. 

Actually, as an aside: can we even confirm that Catra ever thought that Princesses where evil? I mean... she works with Scorpia, and she has no apparent morals to speak of. She does as she wishes for her own personal gain, not because she displays any sense of “fighting the evil Princesses.” And in terms of disposing of Entrapta because she was “manipulated” into viewing Princesses as evil: Catra disposes of everyone. She manipulates and uses everyone. That is one of the key aspects of her arc: she uses and abuses people for personal gain. She does this whether they are Princesses or not: just see Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle. Add to this the fact that Catra, from the first season, knows that she and Adora have been lied to, manipulated, and that the Horde is in fact evil, and... this entire line of reasoning falls apart. 

None of this is an attempt to “absolve Hordak of blame.” Hordak just... legitimately had no hand in raising any of the children. That was not his role (and while I know that this was confirmed by Stevenson at some point, I don’t have memory of where; potentially the last podcast?). And Catra did not operate on any sort of propaganda that she actually believed in: she simply used and disposed of people as she saw fit because she cared more about her own rise to power than she did about those around her. This was one of her major character flaws, and really? Trying to pin this on Hordak, or even fully pin it on Shadow Weaver? It absolves Catra of the blame, of the intentional bad choices she made (as emphasized by Adora) and thus weakens her entire arc.

All in all: Hordak may have created a poor environment for the raising of children, but of note is the fact that only Catra turns out this way. The other kids, whatever their problems, are not in the habit of manipulating friends, lying to them, using them, and then tossing them aside. That is a Catra Problem. Part of this can be attributed to Shadow Weaver (who only treated Catra in the poorest way), and part of it is just... Catra being not-the-best.

All right. Now we get to the really disingenuous portion of the essay.

First, as just stated: Hordak is not Catra’s abuser. Shadow Weaver is. Hordak had no hand in raising her. Hordak did not direct Shadow Weaver to abuse her. Hordak did not personally feed Catra anti-Princess propaganda, and even if he had, we know by the first season that Catra sees through whatever propaganda she was exposed to and has no actual moral objections to Princesses. But that’s not the main aspect of this portion that irks me. 

The main aspect that irks me is that this is not the scene Hordak stans mark as abusive. And I cannot imagine that OP does not know this.

But let’s talk about this scene, for a moment, before getting to the actual, legitimate abuse.

OP talks about his scene almost flippantly: “Hordak finds out Catra lied about Entrapta, he becomes angry and attacks her with a clear plan to kill her.”

Yes. Yes, he "becomes angry.” He becomes angry and attacks because as far as he knows, Catra killed Entrapta. This isn’t some annoyed “you lied to me!” moment. He legitimately thinks Entrapta is dead because Catra sent her to Beast Island. OP just blissfully glosses over the fact that Hordak is attacking Catra in rage and grief because Catra, as far as either of them know, killed his only friend and then lied about it for approximately a year. Like... how do you gloss over that in discussing this scene? How do you gloss over the enormity of what Catra did, and the unimaginable pain Hordak experiences when finding out?

So. The writeup of this scene is poor. It misses all of the emotion, all of the reality of what Catra did and what Hordak felt. But! That’s not even the unfortunate part of this portion. Let’s get to the real disingenuity.

This is the abusive scene. This is that stomach-turning moment when Catra removes a disabled man’s ability to move with dignity and without pain solely to force him to escalate a war for her own personal benefit.

Hordak is not a danger to her here. Hordak has not been a danger to her for a while because he has been holed up in his private quarters, trying to deal with the emotional fallout of Entrapta supposedly betraying him. He wants nothing to do with Catra. He wants to lick his wounds and gather himself and somehow heal from this deep personal pain that’s been inflicted upon him.

And that’s a problem for Catra because it stands in the way of her using the war as a way to best Adora.

So Catra identifies Hordak’s physical weakness and exploits it for the purpose of spiting her ex.

The fact that OP completely fails to acknowledge any of this is... well. Disingenuous. Absolutely so.

The next portion of the essay talks about people feeling that Catra was too easily forgiven and isn’t really Hordak-centric; I won’t really go into it here. Moving forward:

Ah, one of the most annoying questions I see asked. Let’s, again, acknowledge and move past the fact that Hordak was not actually Catra’s abuser...

When, pray tell, was Hordak supposed to show this remorse? When? While he was serving on Prime’s ship, trying to forget the pain of losing Entrapta, of failing to prove himself, of losing everything? Should he have done it while screaming in agony in the purification pool? Should he have done so while alone on Prime’s ship, trying to serve quietly while piecing together his memories?

Not only was Hordak simply not in a position, narratively, to go into a whole remorse bit, but he had other problems. Like, life-endangering problems. 

The appropriate time to go into his feelings on Etheria and the Princesses and All of That would have been after Prime’s defeat, upon Hordak’s re-introduction to Etheria... but then the show ended. So.

Agh, vulgar. Taking a brainwashed, conditioned slave and bastardizing his triumph at finally seeing himself as a real person, instead claiming that his intent was to glorify his own misdeeds. No. Just... no.

Again: this is not the time for guilt. And it is a demonstration of why guilt and remorse were not front-and-center in Hordak’s arc during season five: his arc was about finally realizing that he was his own person, a person worthy of identity and love and care and freedom. And this arc culminated in him separating himself from his abuser and declaring his personhood. 

That is what this scene is: not Hordak reveling in his makeshift empire, or in the terrible deeds he’d committed, but in declaring himself his own person. 

I should hope that he is proud of doing that. I’m proud of him for doing that daunting feat, of defeating his abuser and defying his god and recognizing that he is worthy of more than what Prime thought of him. And I recognize Entrapta’s role in it: not as the sole inspiration for his change, but as someone who showed him a foundation of love and acceptance, someone who introduced him to the idea that he was worthy of care and happiness and affection simply because he was a living being, no strings attached.

Trying to shoehorn in some sort of claim that this is about pride in his misdeeds, rather than joy at finally accepting his own sense of self is a massive misinterpretation of this scene, a misunderstanding of Entrapta’s role in Hordak’s arc, and... can I say it’s disingenuous again? Because I’m going to: it’s disingenuous.

All right; we’re at the end. And while the first sentence here is something I absolutely agree with - the decision to forgive Hordak is personal and subjective both for viewers and for in-show characters - the whole conclusion falls apart from there.

It highlights another glaring omission from OP’s arguments: the fact that Hordak is a brainwashed clone slave.

Hordak did not choose to “spend his life trying to prove his worth to Horde Prime.” He did not choose the method of said proving: that Prime would look kindly upon conquering rather than some other task. And he did not choose to have certain concepts and ideas (all beings must suffer to become pure; all creatures, no matter how small, have a place in service of Horde Prime; failure is when something ceases to serve a purpose) conditioned into him.

Hordak was manufactured as a cultist slave. He was “born” with hardware implanted into his body against his will to better control him. He was indoctrinated and brainwashed to the point that he believed that Horde Prime was his literal god - and in a way, Prime was, because he could mentally invade and possess and physically control the clones whenever he wished. 

Hordak was not allowed to have a sense of self. He was not allowed to have a name. He was not allowed to express emotions. He was not allowed to live without that life serving to glorify Horde Prime. Hordak was so absolutely sick with this mentality that he saw himself as a failure due to physical disability and assumed it was his responsibility to fix that. 

The idea that Hordak simply chose to do what he did, that he had the same foundational morality and mindset as any “normal” person might, shows a glaring lack of understanding even the basics of his narrative. 

Yes: Hordak did bad things. But he did them for legitimately tragic, nigh-horrifying reasons that this essay just ignores for the sake of... I don’t know? Trying to justify OP’s distaste for the character? I am uncertain. But it’s a mark of a poor essay, of a poor understanding of the character, and is honestly just disappointing to read when the show itself tries so hard to drive home its wonderful, hopeful themes through Hordak’s story.

Whether one forgives Hordak or not is one’s personal choice, but I certainly hope one makes said choice with better insight into his character than this essay provides.

[salamangreatsunlightwolf]

Masked Singer Season 5 Review

I haven’t gotten to talk about The Masked Singer here in awhile, but season 5 left me with a lot to talk about after seeing how it nosedived this show into being DEAD television by the end of it.

I’m going to put it all past a read more for you here, because I have over 18000 characters in me to talk about how bad of a season this was apparently. There are also some thoughts about Season 3, and Season 4 (which I skipped reviewing because of how uninteresting it was, but boy did it’s bad qualities have a huge impact on Season 5).

So before I get to dissecting season 5 of the Masked Singer, I have to go back to moments of season 3, and a whole lot of season 4. Season 3 is where we start to see the first inkling of bad tropes occur that persist through season 5 to make it worse. It introduces really obviously weak performances that get the performer to skate by when they shouldn't, leading to the biggest upset I have with the season. Kandi Burruss really shouldn't have won season 3 in my honest opinion. within her first 5 performances, she had two clear duds; her cover of Shout!, and her cover of Man, I Feel Like A Woman. Both were covers that had questionable energy (Shout! less so, but Woman was absolutely unenergetic compared to Twain's original vocal performance), and the latter had a key change to the accompaniment that didn't lend any favors to the energy or vibrancy of the cover. I also need to put into context that what I think is Night Angel's worst performance (Woman) somehow won her a face-off round in season 3 (a forgotten show element from the last two seasons? wowie). Obviously I can say that Jesse McCartney should have won season 3 (I just think he had more consistent performances and output throughout the season), but that's a bit off course. What I really want to get to with Burruss cover of Woman is that it's for all intents and purposes just a middling cover. We'll see these happen more in seasons 4 and 5, but they pan out to usually axing off the contestant. Barring the element of Burruss actually getting eliminated, this is pretty much the first notable Punt Song in terms of performance quality. I want to establish the concept of the Punt Song because it plays a larger role in season 4, and season 5. I also need to establish another trope that season 4 introduced which also cursed season 5, which is excusing bad performances. It panned out so much worse in 4 than in 5, but for 4's sake, Chloe Kim should have been out from her first week. Her performance of Big Girls Don't Cry was weak and mildly sobby, but to the panel it's "emotional", and "it's okay, I'm sure you'll do better next week :)". This performance beat out Wendy Williams cover of Native New Yorker. Was that a great cover by Wendy? No, not really. However, whereas Chloe was a weak, sobbing mess on her first swing at bat, Wendy was bringing the comedy and entertainment factor and should have been safe on that alone. This show failure here is especially notable because having comedic factor in an otherwise bad performance actually pans out successfully in season 5, which makes me question the judges consistency in evaluation from season to season (to be fair though, the judges are Robin Thicke, Ken Jeong, Jenny McCarthy Whalberg, and Nicole Scherzinger. They're already a collective 3/4 of a middling joke). The last part of Season 4 I want to bring up is the usage of the term "taking us to church" in regards to it not only being a cursed term by the end of season 5, but also being a poor reflection on the judges evaluation skills. Look, I get it, this is a Fox competition at the end of the day, so it's obviously hokey pseudo sentimental faux entertainment tailored for white audiences, but don't say someone "took you to church" and then immediately axe them off after that. Yeah, I'm gonna say it; LeAnn Rimes shouldn't have won season 4. Was she bad? No! I just think Taylor Dane was better than her during the week where they axed off Taylor, especially after the panel said that she "took them to church". What did Dane lose to you ask? a somehow more intimate cover of a Billie Eilish song. Is that a bad thing? No, in fact it was pretty good, but I don't think it was good enough to beat what was probably the best performance of season 4. ------------------------------------- Anyways, all of those ramblings from seasons 3 and 4 aside, I'm finally getting to season 5. Yes, I know it took me almost 4000 characters to get here, but I really wanted to go off for a minute and preface the bubbling layers of garbage from the previous seasons that contribute to season 5's flatlining quality out of the gate. If you think a bevy of Punt Songs and poor evaluation amped up another level are all that season 5 has wrong with it, then prepare yourself, because it only gets so much more gimmicky. --- So I'm going to go about this week by week because this show basically was committing sins weekly by this point. So week 1, I'm sorry, but yes, I know seeing Kermit the Frog come out of a snail costume was very : 0 worthy, but Kermit shouldn't have lost that week! His performance wasn't even bad! So what did Kermit lose to anyway? Danny Trejo doing a bad, borderline comedic cover of Wild Thing. You couldn't ask for a more "go home uncle Frank! You're drunk!" performance, but we got it. The judges saw more of a comedy factor in the performance than they needed to see, and let that slip by while they just left Kermit to take the fall. Already not off to a great start (especially since Trejo's character is part funny and part cringey for basically pining after Jenny all season). --- Week 2 is where we get to the first big problem I have with this season, which is letting problematic celebrities be contestants. I'm just going to skirt by Caitlyn Jenner's performance and say that it was maybe a punt song, but to be fair, I don't have high hopes for Jenner having any real vocal prowess. I mean, her cover of Tik Tok sounded like your unamused uncle singing it during karaoke at a family party you barely remember when you were 12. That aside, I just want to point out that Caitlyn Jenner was on this show, immediately lost her first round, then went off to do Caitlyn Jenner things this year like try to become governor of California, and whatever else I forgot she got into the headlines for this week. I don't know the worst representation of a trans woman as a public figure (speaking from a trans woman's perspective) getting this big of a "haha, hehe, hi chum : )" spotlight on national television after everything she's done. Barf me out. --- Week 3 didn't matter too much. Trejo finally got booted after a second performance with bad vocals. However, I want to bring up week 3 for the structural change that it brought to the season that ultimately robbed it of some value. Prior to this season, we had 3 groups in seasons 3 and 4, groups A B and C. Starting in 5, we only have a group A and a group B, but now we have "wild cards". These are performers that get to slot into a groups set of performances for the week and stack against them to make even a "just-safe" performer look cannable. I know what you're probably thinking. "In a show where we're trying to see the gradual performance growth of a performer in order to gauge their consistency and quality, doesn't allowing a performer to come in weeks into the show give them the opportunity to progress further along in the competition with little to the no evaluation?" Yes. It does give them the opportunity, but we'll get to that problem when we get to Omarion's character of The Yeti. For right now though, I'm just going to say this. The wild card group really didn't have any reason to exist if they show could get literally 1 more performer this season (which they technically did). A and B were 5 members each. There are 4 wild cards. All you needed was literally one more regular performer, and the wild cards could have just been group C. This feels like the kind of resource scalping covered up as a fun gimmick that only a large corporation could do for why we have wild cards instead of a group C, but that's where we stand. --- Week 4 is notable for the same reason as week 2. Ugh, do I really have to say it? Yes, Logan Paul was also on this season of the Masked Singer. Yes, one of the problematic Paul brothers. Yes, especially my least favorite one because he's a big reason as to why my hobby of trading cards has had a huge boom for the worse. Yes, I'm going to blame the rise in scalper culture on Logan Paul. Yes, I'm going to blame eBay getting more anal about how every TCG single should be PSA/CCG/etc. graded on a listing on Logan Paul. I just don't like the guy. Why is he here? --- Week 5 is where this show starts to cement itself as dead television. So for those unaware, Nick Cannon, who usually hosts the Masked Singer, was absent for the first third of this season. Filling in for him was Niecy Nash. So where was Nick you ask? Why as a wildcard of course! Nick's wildcard performance was pretty meh all things considered (the only other thing that was meh that week was Nick Lachey's cover of 7 Years, but that's less on him and more on how 7 years is just a bad song for the pop music lexicon). However, Nick's unmasking is where the show really starts to be dead television this season. Before I even get to that, I just want to point out that the costume for Nick Cannon's character just looks absolutely atrocious by season 5 standards. The costume for the Bulldog barely looks like it holds to the standards of season 1 of this show! Anyways, back on track. Nick Cannon decides to pull a "trick" from season 4. Back in season 4, Mickey Rourke forcibly unmasked himself instead of getting voted off. Here, Nick Cannon pops in as a wildcard contestant after being MIA for 4 weeks, just to give a meh performance and then forcibly unmask himself for "shock value", and then be like "hey guys! :D" and resume hosting the show the following week. Eat me. --- Week 6 isn't too notable besides the fact that somehow one of the previous wildcards (Mark McGrath as Orca) somehow go integrated into group A as a member during the same week of them introducing another wildcard, Omarion's "The Yeti". I only bring this up because if they're going to integrate two wildcards into a week and already remove the specialty factor from one of them, then what was even the point of the gimmick? The show would have been better off mix and matching members from groups A and B each week for the performance lineup instead of muddying the group lineups with wildcard characters like this. --- Week 7 is upsetting to me. Two hour special. 8 Performances. Two people out. And who you may ask? Why, wildcard from previous weeks Bobby Brown who was given a super obvious punt song (that he did pretty well on salvaging on the back half of the performance), and Tamera Mowry, who gave a solid pop performance that week. I only bring up Mowry's performance because during that same week, Nick Lachey gave us all a very underwhelming, overly clean performance of Foo Fighters "The Pretender". This is really upsetting because the judge evaluation is extremely suspect here, as they were giving Mowry plenty of legitimate praise, while all they gave Lachey was "wow that was solid. haha ur such a rocker :^)". It's just really upsetting to see how the judges evaluation pans out, because for the record, Lachey won this season, and I honestly think he should have been punted this week. This is also coming from a week where Omarion gave us a cover of Justin Bieber's "Lonely", which is another song I hope desperately leaves the pop music lexicon, because like 7 years, it's a sentimental white boy ballad that just doesn't authentically resonate. --- Week 8 isn't super notable besides the show giving Tyrese Gibson a super obvious punt song, and wow, who would have guessed it, Tyrese Gibson was eliminated that week after being given a super obvious punt song. Zzz. --- Week 9 isn't super notable besides another upset to me. So this week, Hanson (who got eliminated) gave a pretty solid performance of "I'm Still Standing". So what did they lose to you ask? How about Jojo giving us a cover of Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" with extremely questionable instrumental accompaniment. I can't remember exactly how I articulated it when I first watched it, but to put it in perspective, when LeAnn Rimes aimed for art, she succeeded. When Jojo aimed for art, it just left me confused. I honestly though Jojo should have gotten the boot here, but c'est la vie. --- Week 10 is where Omarion gets eliminated after being given a punt song (surprise). A middle energy performance of "Celebration" by Kool & The Gang isn't much to write home about, but I sometimes get suspicious of the behind the curtain politics of the show. The same week they give Omarion a super obvious punt song is also the second week in a row where Jojo gives us an artsy take on a song that nobody really knows. I'm not saying that Omarion's repertoire coordinator forced him into taking a punt song that week in order to let Jojo get to the finale, but. Wait, no, nevermind, that is what I'm saying. I feel bad for Omarion here. I do think it's pretty bollocks that Omarion basically got to come into the top 8 playoffs off of only one performance (which is a severe abuse of the wild card mechanic from the show producers), but they actually were trying to go for this neat character arc with the character of the "The Yeti" in the song choice. Like, the writers actually put some care into it, and then they give him a punt song on both a writing and performance level, and it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I also just remembered that week 10 is where Donnie Whalberg's character of Cluedle-Doo both performs and unmasks. Cluedle-Doo was another dead television gimmick for the season. See, all the characters get clue packages, but Cluedle-Doo will come in and block certain clues from being revealed to the judges, instead replacing them with clues provided by Doo himself. If that sounds annoying, that's because it is. More so when done by a character pompous attitude that does nothing but interfere. I do want to point out however that when I say that Donne performed, Donnie PERFORMED. There are no two ways about it, Donnie's cover of Return of the Mack was the best performance of this week. The only thing that even came close was the Chameleon. I don't need middling Kool & The Gang covers, I don't need art performances of songs I've never heard, and I don't need a Lewis Capaldi cover done by Nick Lachey (so much emotional white boy music this season. Gag me). I really think that Donnie should have been a regular contest, and I think that Nick Cannon should have been Cluedle-Doo as a gimmick character. It's more obvious, and it makes more sense. Obviously this leaves characters to create and fill slots for, but damnit, don't tease me with one of the best performances of the season just to let it whittle out like that. --- Alright, Week 11...the finale. There really isn't much to say, so I'm just going to cut right to it. I don't know what that cover of "Faithfully" Nick Lachey gave us was. There's an obvious problem with the Masked Singer where the short performance time makes slow burn ballads like faithfully translate poorly. As a result, the emotional arc of the performance feels stunted, and it's capped off with a declaration fest ending in one sustained note for "wow, I don't know anything about a good performance, but I'm easily impressed : 0" bait. This is clearly the weakest performance from the three tonight. Jojo's cover of "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You?" by Michael Bolton is...better than what Nick Lachey gave us, but it has its own problems. The Bolton original earworms on you because of the anguish in Bolton's vocal tone. Jojo is too clean to give us even a smidge of anguish until after she's unmasked. That more forgivable though. I'm not going to forgive Jojo for littering an emotional ballad for multiple unnecessary pop diva vocal runs. They're not appropriate here for emotional flavor. They don't add anything musically. They just feel like a forced device from the executives perspective. They stand out in poor musical taste, and they really take away from what Jojo was trying to do in the chorus. Speaking of, the short form nature of the performances makes doing a double chorus with a key change from one chorus to the next feel like another arc stunt. Just bad direction right there. And finally, Wiz Khalifa as the Chameleon doing Gangsta's Paradise. I'm just gonna say it. Wiz Khalifa got robbed. Hip Hop performers tend to be pretty middling on the Masked Singer, with Bow Wow just beefing it at the end of season 3, and Busta Rhymes being unceremoniously eliminated week 1 of season 4. Wiz was different though. Wiz knew what he wanted to do with not only the character, but also with his performances. Chameleon was by far the most consistent and quality character of the season, with only one marginally middling performance during his run. Wiz's cover of Gangsta's Paradise isn't a masterclass in voice personality, but contextually for the show, it pushed more for what the character was trying to do right at the end where it counts, and the judges failed to evaluate that correctly. Wiz was actually doing sung parts that week. Wiz was engaging with the crowd and judges far more than Jojo and Nick were. Wiz even gave stage presence and his musical presence a real arc in this performance. On top of his already present cool swagger that he had on stage, this was easily the best performance of not only the finale, but also for the Chameleon. It's even up there for the best performances of the season. Giving Wiz third place for two C tier pop ballad performances shows a super evident lack of evaluation skills in the judges, and really reinforces the super obvious ballad bias the show has. --- So anyways, this has been a long one, but I think I got it all out there. Masked Singer season 5 really took the uninteresting quality level of Season 4 and just elevated it to being obvious and gimmicky on top of that. I've seen shows become dead television in my time, but this is a staggering nose dive into the realm of dead television. I "hope" Season 6 is "better" than this (if we even get one. This season might have been so gimmicky because the ratings could have sucked hard), but I'm certain it will be if this is the direction they opted for within just one season. Sorry to talk your ear off, but as someone who likes to think they know what good musical performance is in a context like this after being in many concerts in popular music contexts, this show has really not sustained itself as being "it", chief.

[malewifegrantaire]

The Birthday Thing

READ PART ONE HERE

PART TWO: Guess who’s coming to dinner hang out for no apparent reason (as far as Grantaire can tell)?

Combeferre had inadvertently ruined the rest of Grantaire’s week. It wasn’t his fault, of course. He couldn’t be blamed for Grantaire’s Incredibly Bad Brain. But still, “I just know Enjolras and I know he likes you” is a very reckless phrase to pepper into a conversation with someone of Grantaire’s constitution. He could hardly fall asleep that night because the words I know he likes you were clanging too loudly against the bars of the jail cell he called a mind. He didn’t mind too much though. The clanging was because Enjolras liked him, which made all of the noise sound a bit like music.

Grantaire picked out an outfit for the party and laid it out like he was a little kid excited for a school trip. Embarrassed with himself, he threw the entire outfit into his clothing hamper so he wouldn’t have to look at it lying out on his dresser anymore. Which was obviously a mistake, because now the clothes were are wrinkled and they were touching his actually dirty clothes. Which meant now he had to do a half load of laundry on a weekday, which he really didn’t like doing.

As he folded his laundry, Grantaire felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Huh. It was from Combeferre. Odd.

hey, are u free? sorry lol i am bored and wanted to know if u wanna hang out ??

Very odd. Maybe the wrong number? Just to be safe, Grantaire texted back:

grantaire is folding laundry right now, like a responsible adult.

Two texts back:

very interesting use of third person..

i can help if u want! i love 2 fold things

So this was Grantaire’s life. He used to be young and wild, and now he’s the sort of person that makes plans with people who text him sentences like “i love 2 fold things.” He typed his response.

uh, sure? might get boring, but i’ll never say no to an extra set of hands.

About fifteen minutes later, Combeferre was inside of Grantaire’s apartment. “You got here fast.” Grantaire said.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Aren’t you always?”

Combeferre took in Grantaire’s apartment, which gave Grantaire such a wave of self-consciousness that he thought he might be sick. It was a fine apartment, kept clean mostly because Grantaire hardly spent any time in it. The ceilings were far too low for Combeferre.

“This is a really nice place.” Combeferre said. “Have you lived here long?”

“Five years, I think.” Grantaire said. “I think the landlord thought I’d have left by now, but, well. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s nice. Good windows. Not easy to come by.”

Grantaire laughed at that. “Hey, was there something you wanted to talk about? Or are you just here to admire my big beautiful windows?”

Combeferre looked slightly embarrassed. “Uh, the latter, I guess.” he said. “I mean, just what I texted, I was bored, and I guess . . . I don’t know. I guess I thought we could just hang out?”

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to be embarrassed. Of course. Combeferre is the sort of person who’s actually, you know, decent. He was just trying to be nice and Grantaire was accusing him of having an ulterior motive. Way to go. Grantaire cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for coming. Feel free to park wherever. I only did a half load of laundry so I’m finished folding, sorry. I know how much you love to fold.”

“I went through a very intense Marie Kondo phase.” Combeferre grinned. “Let me know if you ever need your closet to be reorganized.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Grantaire said. It was dawning on him that, being more of the roaming type than the nesting type, Grantaire almost never had people over his apartment, and therefore had very little hosting experience. So he did what he always did in situations like this - said what people say in movies and books and all that.

“Can I offer you a beverage of some kind? I’ve got . . . tap water. And orange juice. And maybe beer?”

“I’m alright, thanks.” Combeferre said kindly. Combeferre’s fridge was probably fully stocked with sparkling water in every flavor for guests to sip on, the bastard. He sat down in a little chair by the kitchenette. “What, what is it?” he asked, looking at Grantaire’s expression. “Why are you - what’s funny?”

“Everything is too small for you in here. It’s like shoving a Barbie doll into a Polly Pocket house.” Grantaire said with a laugh. Combeferre tucked his long legs a bit closer to himself.

“Well, Barbie is a good role model, so I’ll take that.”

“I think an averaged sized woman or two might disagree. Anyways, you’ve got impeccable timing.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre inquired.

“I mean that someone must have wanted us to hang out today. God, the Fates, some non-denominational arbiter of Destiny.” Grantaire was doing that thing he always did where he ended sentences in a way that begged the listener to ask him to explain himself. Why he chose to speak in these irritating circles? We will likely never know. Grantaire sure as hell didn’t.

Combeferre rolled his eyes, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

“It’s been said before.” was Grantaire’s reply. “What I mean to say is I’m literally never home. Not literally-literally, but, you know. This apartment is basically a glorified storage unit that I visit when there is absolutely nothing else to do. So the fact that you happened to be passing by on a laundry day...”

“... a work of divine intervention?” Combeferre finished.

“I’d go so far as to call it a miracle if I believed in that sort of thing.” Grantaire said.

Combeferre’s next question caught Grantaire off-guard somewhat. “So you’re an atheist, then?”

Grantaire had never actually seen a shrink, but he had the passing sensation of being sprawled out on some brown leather fainting sofa. Maybe that’s what this was, a psych eval. He’d get a message from the official Les Amis de l’ABC e-mail account later in the week saying “sorry, R, you’ve been deemed mentally unfit to be a part of this organization. We know the Musain is public property, but if you could avoid the premises during our scheduled meeting times we all think that’d be for the best.”

“Well, yeah, aren’t all of the lefties heathens nowadays? At least that’s what Twitter tells me.” he said. His paranoia would not rob him of his (debatable) sense of humor.

Combeferre just shrugged. “I guess if I had to call myself something I’d say I’m agnostic.”

“Huh!” Grantaire said, genuinely surprised. “A member of the ‘namby-pamby, mushy pap, weak-tea, weedy, pallid fence-sitter’ brigade, are we?”

Two things occurred to Combeferre at once: One, that Grantaire was quoting Richard Dawkins, and two, that Grantaire could not have been certain that Combeferre would recognize the quote when he said it. Grantaire was both the sort of person that committed Dawkins to memory and the sort that didn’t really care if someone mistook his references for a string of improvised insults. The more Grantaire spoke, the more Combeferre became aware of how little speaking they’d ever done.

“I guess I just think one can never be sure.” Combeferre said.

Grantaire thought now would be a good time for a subject change. “So, how is party planning going?” he asked.

Combeferre sighed. “It’s . . . it’s going.” he said. “Well, okay, I’m being dramatic. Courfeyrac is actually the one doing most of the planning. I just get weird about stuff like this. I want Enjolras to like everything, you know?”

“I don’t think Enjolras is capable of disliking anything you do.” Grantaire said in a way that to the untrained ear might sound like a veiled insult, but that Combeferre suspected was an attempt at genuine sincerity.

“Well, thanks.” Combeferre smiled gratefully. “I just want him to have a good time.”

“He will. It’s the rest of us you’ll have to work to entertain.”

“Well, Courfeyrac has a slew of party games he’s preparing. Oh, and, uh, Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it. By the way.” Combeferre said, which made Grantaire blush, which made Combeferre smile.

Grantaire hated that. Not just when Combeferre did it, when any of them did. Making faces or little comments, as if they were in on some big secret. It’s like they were proud of themselves for noticing Grantaire’s little crush, like they knew something funny or scandalous or cute. But they didn’t know anything, not really. Grantaire didn’t have a crush on Enjolras at all. It was more like a religion. Maybe he’d been too quick to brand himself an atheist earlier.

His annoyance with Combeferre soured the rest of their conversation. He became mean, curt, and downright humorless. This wasn’t at all fair, he knew. Grantaire probably annoyed Combeferre every third sentence (maybe every third word) and that had never stopped Combeferre from being his usual amiable self. There was another difference between the two: Grantaire lacked both grace and graciousness, and Combeferre, it seemed, never ran out of either.

“Well, I guess I should be leaving.” Combeferre said after a while, rising from the squat chair he was sitting in.

“I guess.”

“Uh, thank you for having me over. We should do this again some time. I had fun.” Combeferre lied.

Grantaire smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Yeah, why don’t we all do brunch some time? You can bring your friends, it’ll be a real party. Everyone can sit around admiring my huge windows. What a blast!”

Combeferre knew he was joking, but he couldn’t decipher the punchline. What would be so bad about having all of their friends over for brunch? Why did he say the word “friends” like that, all sardonic and italicized? Combeferre almost asked him, but instead he just shook his head and smiled.

“Okay. Well. Bye!”

Grantaire waved lazily. “See you around.”

Under normal circumstances, the phrase “Enjolras mentioned he’s glad you’ll be able to make it” would have found itself fluttering in the pit of Grantaire’s stomach. Instead, there was something else sitting in there. Something that felt a bit like failure, a bit like guilt, and - most surprising of all - a bit like affection.

This is precisely why he didn’t like having people over.

[stabletwooriginals]

CHAPTER TWO: Equestrian Wasteland

Panic attack! A surprising, yet well described reaction LittlePip has to the vastness of the great outdoors. The little ghost story about the outside just being a black void also comes back one final time.

The prospect of finding Velvet shrinking dramatically phases LittlePip surprisingly little. Instead she just kinda starts looking for her by seeking a high vantage point. This pro-active attitude and little time spent on feeling sorry for herself is endearing, as well. I think this is gonna change at certain points, considering all the stuff that is going to happen to her. But maybe I'm confusing my memories with Project Horizons, in which the main character spends quite some time feeling sorry for herself. (And considering what happens to her, I don't really blame her.)

I love the light emitted by a terminal described as "the soft green glow of a poisoned apple". Horse gonna think of apples.

LittlePip remarks on the sturdiness of the StableTec terminals, looking new while everything around it decayed in some form. I think this actually has a (horrifying) explanation in lore. But we won't get to it for a while.

On it, we get a message from Velvet asking, or rather pleading the reader not  to look for her. LittlePip's enthusiasm is curbed by it, but not her plan. While she is considering her options she gets distracted by a light in the distance. So, uh, the issue that Velvet doesn’t want to return just gets shoved to the back row until it has to be confronted again at a later date. Seeing as finding Velvet is the bigger issue anyway, that's not very hard to accept for now, at least.

Oh and there is a encrypted message on there too. We don't learn anything useful about it and LittlePip downloads it for the heck of it. In my opinion, a weird place to stick this beat, as it draws attention only to get pushed aside immediately again and the payoff it has at the end of the chapter brings a minor revelation at best. This information could have been given later as well.

Now I was forced to admit how foalish that vision was.

 Reading FoE made me realize they say "foalish" in the original show too. At least in season 1, which is all that existed during the time FoE was being written. Isn't that wild? Discord gets a mention very late into the story, otherwise all the world building is propped up on lore that existed *before* the fandom really reached it's peak!

And LittlePip runs straight into a slaver trap. I appreciate the effort to have her not recognize the shotgun and how the details of the situation slowly unravel until the dreaded clarification "They're slavers, you idiot". Makes it relatable that she fell for their trap.

Thinking about the slavers LittlePip mentions her "repertoire of colorful metaphors". Interesting to tell us about it instead of letting us see for ourselves later. Because, well, she undoubtedly does have quite the repertoire of colorful metaphors.

I absolutely love that the description of the music the Spritebots makes captures the song Pinkie Pie uses in the episode "Swarm of the Century" to remove the Parasprites perfectly. Even the first time reading I had that song in my head at this point.

LittlePip being a swift learner is yet another endearing trait on display when she sees one of the slavers fire his shotgun at the Spritebot and notices how the weapon works. Let's hope there is some kind of fight soon where she gets to implement this newfound knowledge!

I wonder why the raiders decided to attack the slavers. The slavers clearly didn't anticipate this and I doubt LittlePip or Montgomery Jack (the other slave) are such evidently high-tier cargo worth stealing. But hey, I got my wish for a fight and establishing LittlePip's talent with a bobby pin and screwdriver to unlock her shackles is already paying off too.

This kinda leads into a larger question of what raiders are and what they want, but I'll save that for later. Once we met a lot more of them.

Well, seeing how the raiders are beating them up, that probably wasn't why they started the fight either. Also, like with the slavers before, they throw in a threat of sexual violence against LittlePip that feels kinda cheap to me. Like, yo, enslaving her and/or threatening to kill her apparently isn't enough to paint them as bad guys? I understand that this is mainly a taste thing, as some people don't mind a story that is painted this dark this casually. I just feel like the story would not lose it's tone without them, while being more upsetting than it needs to be with them. At least here, in Chapter Two.

LittlePip’s first fight is awesome. It's scary, it's fast and has a few surprises. The biggest one probably being that the question of killing others hasn't come up yet. If we are familiar with Fallout (at least 3 and onward) this shouldn't be a hard question to answer, but LittlePip tries to avoid it here.

Montgomery, like a more experienced Fallout player however, finishes the raider off and starts to loot them. Showing LittlePip the ropes of the game. How nice of him. Then he robs her. That's not how I play Fallout, but the games pride themselves with their choice of options, I guess.

That he instructs LittlePip to check the bodies, she therefore has to puke into the river because of it and sees Montgomery's shotgun reflected in the water behind her head is just great dramatic storytelling. I can just see the movie version of this in my minds eye.

However, LittlePip actually manages to get out of this with a little luck in finding the raiders shotgun next to her (which is a combat shotgun, unlike the regular one the slaver had and Montgomery is holding now) and by packing everything she learned about the two weapons into a convincing argument. Making her win the fight before it started, which is just genuinely bad-ass.

Finally LittlePip makes it into Ponyville -- pursued by a sniper. Can't catch a break!

No, she or he could just wait until I came out.

Something that might not be very noticeable yet is how FoE has kind of a inverted societal structure when it comes to gender. MLP had this too, to a degree, as it was targeting young girls. Here, we can see it transform the order pronouns are used in a common phrase. It might read as a typo or error but we will see that female characters tend to enjoy higher privileges and hold the highest positions of power. Of course that would affect their language as much as other phrases are transformed due to them being horses. See: "What the hay?"

 A pile of torn-up cloth rotted in a corner, smelling foul, like ponies had urinated on it repeatedly.

Nooo, Rarity's work and art :(

 Finally, we get to read the encrypted message from earlier. It's Applebloom’s final words to Sweetie Belle, letting us realize that at least some of the Apple Family has been in Stable Two when it closed and it's first Overmare was Sweetie Belle, Rarity's younger sister. That’s cool to know, but doesn’t affect much of our understanding of anything yet.

Level Up! New Perk: Horse Sense. As we saw, LittlePip is a swift learner. I usually feel like whatever LittlePip learned in the chapter influences the perk she receives at the end. But shouldn't a perk only affect her after she got it? The allusions to RPG mechanics kinda fall apart a little bit when you think too hard about them.

Since they are a "Footnote" I'll just imagine that LittlePip leveled up and received the perk sometime *during* the chapter. Ah, now the world is right again.

[thatsystemerror]

the best things about Outer Banks

*spoilers ahead*

Holy hell, this turned out so long. I decided to make a second post solely dedicated to quotes because I just could not fit that in here anymore. I guess it speaks for this show that I had enough material to make two... Anyways, enjoy!

pt.2 - The Best Quotes From OUTER BANKS

NOT the pace at which John B and Sarah’s relationship develops

noT AT ALL

sorry, done with the venting now

anyhow, the group being TIGHT ™ 

JJ making you feel one of three ways:

“oh heLLO, JJ” (mostly without a shirt scenes)

“ugh, JJ” (he brought the gun and/or is being a dick scenes)

“awww, JJ...” (you know which scenes)

Kie’s outfits

the golden hour lighting

the sets being actual houses

the beach/sea/surfer aesthetic

the van

The Chateau™

JJ’s rings

Pope’s contributions being overlooked, always

everyone’s motivation on this show: “How much?” “400 mill”

conclusion: that’s worth fucking shit up

Kie actually being really skilled in politely but determinedly shutting her guy friends down when “macking” on her

ya know, until the Pope pity party at the end...

cuz that’s what it felt like, for real

I actually thought JJ and Pope might have a thing going...

the soundtrack full of surf guitar music

the intro font always making it feel like some 90s Miami-set crime show is about to start

John B’s hair, I think?

I mean, I don’t know what you’re into...

I just feel like it’s a breath of fresh air on the boy’s-hairstyles-tv-landscape

getting major “Don’t Breathe” vibes from the blind old lady shooting up her house

I appreciate them trying to make her actually kinda creepy, because they usually fail miserably with "scary” elements on non horror stuff

I don’t know if you catch my drift, just thought it was well done...

Sarah getting stung by a jellyfish and everyone just like not really caring??

all of them thinking for even oNE SECOND that they weren’t gonna get screwed over with the gold

JJ looking like the lead of any 90s teen production at all times

JJ just effortlessly blending in with the waiters at the party

or that time when he fake cried on command to save his ass

but like every character has good acting skills (or simply is a good liar, I guess it’s a matter of philosophy)

JJ and Pope betting money on Kie and Sarah

Kie starting a fire to save everyone’s ass

the Vlad and Val thing (cheesy for sure, but adorbs nonetheless)

highkey though the guy playing the drug dealer is a really good actor, cuz I’m sure he’s nice and cool and all irl but as Barry all he makes me think of is this:

Topper’s Frosted Tips™ (gosh that sounds so unbelieveabley sexual I can’t believe it’s not sexual)

JJ constantly trolling every authority figure

Sarah not being the perfect-snobby-rich-chick-daughter despite being expected to be by everyone

JJ robbing the coast guard of a pen? because he ignored him

“bring it on Aggie, you bitch” sign (I don’t think stroms can read but nice touch)

especially the first few episodes finally being an accurate depiction of how teenage boys always wear their hat floating like 5″ above their head and hoW FUCKING DUMB IT LOOKS!!! thank you! please stop...

Pope loosing his pants at the cemetary (like imagine him having to explain that to his mama)

the “friends” awkwardly waving at Kie’s dad

that one silouette shot ✨cinematography, bitches✨

never actually seeing John B give the BMX bike back to that poor kid...

going back to save the Big John photograph from the street (tears, man... tEArS)

John B being a major wuss while Sarah is cleaning his wound

NEVER having the gun when actually needed

ALWAYS having the gun when it could get you in major trouble

JJ taking the blame to save Pope

JB’s finger guns after his first kiss with Sarah (John B you smooth mf...)

that opening shot in ep.4 zooming in on the boat through the storm clouds

everybody being collectively surprised to see JB in a school building

the blood splattering against the window of the car with JJ and his dad in it (terrible scene, A+ effect!)

JJ sneaking through the swamp with a backpack on his head

the actor of Sarah’s dad managing to give you the creeps with some subtle crazy eyes even before it turns out he’s actually crazy

Kie fooling Pope with her British accent

Rose thinking she’s some kind of High Priestess at the midsummers party

John B putting a bow tie on JJ

BROMANCE™ (alternative title)

JJ delivering the note dancing flirtatiously

Sarah thinking pushing John B down would magically have made him invisible to Topper watching them for thE LAST 5 MINUTES??!

JJ twirling Kie around when leaving the Kook party

Topper accidently confessing his creepy-stalker-love to a 13 year old

Kie slapping John B

John B slapping Kie

violence is not the answer, kids! but I guess these were friendly slaps, so it’s okay

JB telling Sarah how “everything’s fine” with the Pogues and then cutting to it being definitely not

John B saying: “I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer” and Pope making this face: 😲

a brilliant plan being ruined by a porch light

everybody constantly shitting on 1... 2... 3!

is that a The Shining reference I’m seeing????

how tf did it take them so long to realize she’s blind I-

and then once they did, Sarah states: “that bitch can’t aim” ???

like yeah, obviously, you just said it yourself sHE’S BLIND!!!????

anywho, John B not even bothering to fake excitement over the fishing trip

JJ finding “that’s what she said” disproportionately funny

the group wordlessly agreeing that somebody should probably look after JJ at the drug dealer’s

Sarah confidently telling JB she’s a virgin without it being all awkward (rare sight in teen shows back in my day)

Pope’s “Thrasher” shirt (like damn that’s off brand, but funny!)

JJ getting floaties for drinks in the whirlpool

the Whirlpool Group Hug™

JB telling Sarah goodbye before the fishing trip and me deadass thinking for a sec that he set an alarm to creep into his gf’s room in the middle of the night

Ward having sOmE NErVE to interrogate JB after killing his father (and later basically calling Rafe a psycho?!! like bitch get a mirror and baptized, thank you)

John B driving through the fence at the airport

Sarah yelling at her dad “you’re gonna kill him” like that’s gonna stop him lol

the cop at the airport giving us real talk about what police first aid training probably looks like

JB wanting to tell the cops what happened out of the goodness of his heart

Wheezie sticking up for her sister

Rafe calling John B a maniac (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see)

JB locking himself in, in a house with Topper (like god damn, Karma’s a bitch huh)

Sarah, a teenage girl mind you, getting away from a trained-special-force-FBI-whatever-cop-dude in full armor by KNEEING him

Rafe talking to his Emotional Support Dealer™

the Pogues standing up to their parents for frIEnDsHIp!!!

JJ about to play “Operation” on his dad to get the keys

the missed opportunity to use “I Shot The Sheriff” on the soundtrack

I’m still a bit salty....

JB getting out of the cop car like that’s just normal

Pope going to shake Kie’s hand to make up

Sarah making it just in time

Ward being the “final card” lmao

Pope’s fam taking JJ into their group hug

the chill fisherman dude (with a wild romantic past?) taking in JB and Sarah

I demand a spin-off for that guy’s story btw

I’m so sorry for how long this must’ve taken to read. Seems like a good time to remind you that there’s more though: 

pt.2 - The Best Quotes From OUTER BANKS

It’s a great show (even though in parts I would’ve preferred them to step off the cheese grater a little bit). Overall (aside from the obviously heavy themes), it reminds me of all the Australian teen shows I used to watch growing up (mixed with “the Outsiders” maybe?) and it makes me actually a bit excited for summer. 

And I hate summer, so that’s saying something!

@thatsystemerror

the best things about - masterpost

[maotranslates]

Chapter 4

Novel: Life Going Wild With Plug-ins 带挂装逼, 最为致命 by Shi Zi Qing 十字卿

PREVIOUS / TABLE OF CONTENTS / NEXT

Before sunset, at the doctor’s place, I finally learned how to eat sunflower seeds with the little medicine boy who lacked front teeth. When the doctor wiped his hands and came out of the building, the children around disappeared.

　　 The night wind was very cold.

　　 I shook off the sunflower seed shells from my body and eagerly looked towards the doctor.

"The injury is really not light. Fortunately, as long as he carefully recuperates for three to five years, he won't be disabled." The doctor spoke a bunch of words solemnly, and then concluded while shaking his head, "But to do martial arts again, I am afraid it is not very possible."

　　 I couldn’t really understand what he was saying, so I picked a question that I was more concerned about: "When will it stop hurting?"

　　 The doctor was at a loss when he looked at me.

　　 "The wounds on his body, when will they stop hurting?"

　　 "...This...will heal in less than a month."

　　 Such a long time, having to lie down for a month, I felt that he was a bit miserable. I nodded to the doctor and slipped inside to visit him.

　　 The Shadow Guard lay quietly on the bed, breathing so softly to the point that it was hard to perceive. The former tattered clothes on his body that were mixed with blood and adhered to his wounds were all removed and replaced with layers of bandages. Probably due to serious injury, there was no rosy color anywhere on his body.

　　His hair had also finally been tidied up, and it fell softly over the edge of the bed, making his complexion look even paler in comparison.

　　 Hey, this face is so good-looking, and I haven't seen it on Taobao before. Could it be that I, the creator god, customized it myself? I'm kind of awesome.

　　 I sat next to him, gazing down at him silently, using my eyes to soothe his trauma.

　　

　　 "...Master." He spoke first, asking, "Where are your clothes...?"

　　 I said, "I exchanged them for money to buy medicine."

　　 "……"

　　

　　 The night was very cold.

　　 Us two naked men, were mutually silent.

　　

　　 "You haven't eaten anything, aren’t you hungry?" I took out a handful of sunflower seeds from the only remaining underwear on my body, passing it over to him.

　The Shadow Guard glanced, and painfully shook his head.

　　 So he doesn't like sunflower seeds. Feeling disappointed, I tucked the seeds back into my underwear.

　　

　　 The doctor said that he needed peace and quiet to recover from his injuries, so I quickly took my leave.

　　 There was nowhere to go, so I squatted back outside the building to eat sunflower seeds. Yet, it was not fulfilling.

　　 Hungry and cold.

　　 It felt a bit miserable to be alive.

After squatting for a long time, I heard the sound of people walking and talking in the hall. The male voice was low so I couldn’t hear clearly, but there was a woman whose pitch was higher, and a few words floated to my ears: "I already heard of robbers and bandits being rude and unreasonable, but they actually deceived their way into our Changluo!... I already thought that the materials of those clothes were by no means ordinary people's... No problem, no problem, don't thank me, this little bit of help is not a problem... It's not peaceful over there either, you guys take care when you leave..."

After talking inside for a while, the woman's voice sounded farther as she walked away. There was the sound of footsteps coming towards me, and someone put a piece of clothing on me, blocking most of the cold wind. Feelings of unspeakable gratitude flooded my heart. I turned around and saw it was the Shadow Guard, hey, why did this guy get up?

　　 "Master, the wind is strong here, let's go inside first."

  "Alright."

　　

　　 After a while, seeing that I didn't move, the Shadow Guard asked in confusion: "...Master?"

　　 "My legs are numb, I can't stand up." The human physical body is truly hard to control.

　　

　　 "..." The Shadow Guard sighed lightly, leaning over and holding my hand. Probably because I was sitting in the cold wind for a long time, his temperature seemed particularly hot.

　　 The Shadow Guard checked my hand temperature that was like cold stone.

　　Suddenly, he picked me up.

　　 I was curled up in a strange posture.

　　 "Wait, what about your injuries that haven’t healed?"

　　 "It’s already fine." The Shadow Guard carried me back into the room without any explanation, and put me down on the bed.

　　

　　 After putting me down, the Shadow Guard sat up and found my hands firmly under his armpits.

　　 "...Master, what are you doing?"

　　 "It's warm here."

　　 "……"

　　

　　 The Shadow Guard resolutely forced my hands out of his armpits.

  Oh!! Cold! Heartless!

　　

　　 The Shadow Guard expressionlessly helped me put on layers upon layers of clothes. The plain cotton and linen, without the former mess of jade ornaments, was actually comfortable to wear. It was only then that I realized he had also changed into plain robes, his hair tied low. The bloody smell on his body was long gone, and the scent of herbs was faintly released. Hm? Where did you get clothes?

"This servant told the mistress that Master was originally a wealthy merchant who was robbed on the road to Changluo, so all his belongings and servants are gone. Master’s clothes and accessories were all very valuable, so the mistress trusted the story and agreed to help for a few days." After reporting this, he repented as usual, "This servant is incompetent, and has even made Master spend so much money and be ashamed."

　　 After putting on my clothes, the Shadow Guard tucked me back into the bed and then reached out to hold my ice bar hands. His hands were large and broad, just enough to cover my ice bar, no, I mean my hands. When my temperature recovered a little, he conscientiously let go and took a step back, kneeling at the side of the bed.

A woman lifted the curtain and came in with a smile. Based on the voice, it was the same woman who had just talked to the Shadow Guard. She put a large plate on the table and said, "Come here come here, I just made a few small dishes, eat it while it’s hot! I don’t know your taste, but if it’s too salty or too mild, make sure you let this big sister know."

　　

　　I cheerfully sat down, and the woman put down the food and left. The Shadow Guard refused to dine at the same table with me, which made me spend some time convincing him before he moved his chopsticks. I didn’t know how to use chopsticks, so I grabbed the food with my bare hands. After a few bites, I couldn’t help saying, “This is better than what you make.”

　　 "...This servant is incompetent."

　　 You’re incompetent again? Why are you always incompetent? How old are you* incompetent?

* “How old are you” is written in English in the original text

　　 "Does being a Shadow Guard require cooking skills? Are other Shadow Guards very good at cooking?"

　　 "No. Most of them only know how to make a few dishes needed to maintain health," the Shadow Guard said.

"Then since cooking is not in the Shadow Guards’ skill range, why do you blame your own ‘incompetence’?" I frowned and said, "Right now, I don’t understand a lot of things, and your wrong wording is very misleading. I hope you pay attention to it in the future."

　　 The Shadow Guard was mute.

Not sure if he understood, I added: "I find that you always like to blame things on yourself. This is your own problem. Regardless of what your mentality is, I hope that when we talk, you can convey more intuitive and effective information to me, rather than ambiguous self-loathing. Is that difficult? Can it be done?"

　　 "...This servant...will do as you say."

　　 I nodded in satisfaction. He doesn't look stupid, so he should be able to understand.

　　

　　 I continued to eat after speaking, and the temperature of the stir fried dishes was not low, it hurt to grab the food with bare hands, and the temperature of the soup was even more scorching... But those floating meatballs were truly really tempting, and I thought about it over and over again, making up my resolve to get them.

　　 It burned so much that I wailed out miserably.

　　 Fortunately, the Shadow Guard’s eyes and hands were quick, immediately wrapping a towel soaked in cold water around my burned hand, and the temperature dropped and eased the pain by a lot. Huh? When did you prepare the cold towel?...

　　 "Master..." The Shadow Guard hesitated many times before asking, "Is it that you think the chopsticks here are not clean? How about, I go down and find new chopsticks..."

　　 I shook my head in pain: "I don’t know how to use chopsticks."

　　The Shadow Guard looked lifeless, unable to continue.

　　 "Can you get me a meatball?" I had suffered a serious injury, but I still could not forget, it could be said that my appetite was like a drug addiction.

　　 Shadow Guard hurriedly took up a new pair of chopsticks, then hesitated after picking up a meatball, looking at my face and then looking at my bowl, then finally deciding to put it in the bowl. I used my uninjured hand to dump the contents of the bowl into my mouth, chewing and carelessly saying thank you at the same time.

　　 "...I don't... dare..." His tone was awkward.

　　 The Shadow Guard removed the towel, held my hand and inspected it carefully, and said with relief that there were no burn wounds. Then he found several spoons of different sizes so I could avoid suffering a burn again. A true confidant, I shed tears of gratitude.

　　 After peacefully finishing the meal with no more incidents, the mistress of the doctor’s place came to clean up with a smile. While chatting with her, I asked about the Shadow Guard’s injury and heard that he needed to lie down for more than a month before getting out of bed. Hey, he just said that he was already fine and started going everywhere, it turned out that this guy lied to me again.

　　 I angrily shoved the Shadow Guard back into bed, reprimanding him for a long while. The Shadow Guard's small and pale face was hidden in the covers, and he listened quietly to my criticism, very pitifully.

　　 "This servant… Although I am overstepping my boundaries, I have some questions… I would like to ask Master." Before I left, the Shadow Guard opened his mouth, seeming to have misgivings.

　　 "Did you not hear anything I said just now? The doctor wants you to rest, so rest first." I blew out the candle for him and moved out of the room step by step, feeling my way in the dark. "There will be ample time for us, we are in no hurry."

　　 The inner room was extremely quiet, there was a long pause before a barely audible "thank you" was heard.

PREVIOUS / TABLE OF CONTENTS / NEXT

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 13 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul and Gene go to the temple of mammon, Studio 54.

“You look,” Gene said, throat drier than sandpaper, “really good.”

Good was an understatement. Paul looked hot. The light blue of the dress made a good contrast against his still-suntanned skin. The neckline made up for the dress length, providing more cleavage than Gene had seen out of Paul since he’d first met him on the front porch in the bathrobe. The heels accentuated his legs—even as a guy, Paul had always had nice legs—but for maybe the first time in three days, Gene was paying more attention to Paul’s face than his body.

It wasn’t like he’d done anything wild with makeup. Blush, red lipstick, eyeshadow, mascara. Except for the eyeliner maybe being a bit heavier, it was about the same look as the night prior. But Paul seemed happier. Relaxed. There wasn’t that tightness to his jaw anymore or that tension to his mouth. And that was a surprise, given the stilted way their dancing earlier had ended. Gene thought Paul might have been sore or tetchy, or at least awkward, but he’d just carried right on. Those sad brown eyes of his didn’t look sad at all, for once, and if Gene were sentimental, he would almost have said they were sparkling.

Maybe he’d just liked sharing a few dances with Gene. And maybe tonight really was the night that this would all be over. Every bit of it. Back to normal life for them both, touring and signing and interviewing. Back to life a hotel room away from each other. He’d be stupid to regret the change. Just stupid.

“You’re not half so bad yourself, Gene.” Paul crooked his head as if he hadn’t seen variations of his outfit at least a dozen times over just this year. As if he hadn’t been suggesting half of it while Gene had asked for the clothes to be sent over. Black leather everything, including the pants—something he already was regretting bitterly. Silver accessories. A belt with a spider encased in enamel as the buckle plate. The public demanded a monster movie out of Gene even when he got off the stage.

“That’s generous.” The limo was already idling in Paul’s driveway. “You ready?”

It took a few seconds for Paul to answer. He wasn’t looking at Gene, at least, not directly in the face; it almost seemed as though Paul was scoping him out, assessing him like there was something new to assess. Gene would have called him out on it, except during times like this, he never was sure if it was Paul’s hearing or Paul’s daydreaming to blame.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The limo ride was uneventful. Gene decided he didn’t care for Studio 54 long before they pulled up to the VIP entrance. He decided that through the line wrapping around the building for what seemed like miles, the garish outfits of the wannabes begging for admittance, and the weird air of desperation mixed with eagerness that seemed to permeate through the limo windowpane. It made him feel itchy. Beside him, Paul had spent a bit of time doodling peace signs and dicks in the misted-up windowglass like it was a school notebook. His good mood didn’t seem to dampen until the limousine stopped, and he saw the press, out there already, all cameras and notepads.

“Gene—”

“It’s fine, I’ve got my bandana.” He’d forgotten to ask for it over the phone, but it’d been in the box of clothes for him anyway. A couple of them, actually. “Do you want one?”

Paul shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. Switch spots with me, would you?”

Gene swapped obligingly. The limo wasn’t roomy enough to avoid Paul brushing up against him as they traded seats. He caught the woodsy scent of Aramis cologne in Paul’s hair, just another indication of what he’d spent three days pounding into his head now.

“Want me to hold the door for you, too?”

“God, no.”

Gene laughed, and got out first. The bandanas always made him feel like he was about to rob a bank. Every so often, they’d get goofy with it, find weird headgear—knight and astronaut and football helmets—but for the most part, bandanas and scarves were enough out in public, real public. Places where they wanted to be seen, under normal circumstances. The first half-dozen camera flashes were blinding as always. He helped Paul out of the limo, hovering over him as he stepped out. Part of him wished he’d thought to bring a jacket, but maybe that would’ve made it worse, provoked the paparazzi more, if he’d tried covering Paul up too much.

“You okay?” he asked, as the crowd shuddered and swarmed around them. A horde, just a horde, worse than the CBGB crowd ever considered being. Fans would want an autograph or a lay. The press only ever wanted blood.

“I’m fine, I’m—”

“Mr. Simmons!” A woman reporter called out, touching his free arm. “Can I have just a moment?”

“No,” he said, brushing past, his hold on Paul’s arm only getting tighter. Walking quickly, not making eye contact, until the line—there was a line, unbelievably, for VIPs—forced him to stop. Paul had his head half-buried against his shoulder for the whole duration of their wait, tensing with every camera flash and intrigued leer. Gene realized, offhand, that the attention wasn’t pissing Paul off the way it had at CBGB. Instead, it was scaring him.

It made sense, he supposed. CBGB wasn’t nearly important enough to have reporters and cameramen about. They didn’t have big names there, either, no one that Paul would’ve really worried about bumping into. Paul had said earlier that he didn’t think he could pull off talking to someone that knew him, and Gene suspected he was right. Gene suspected an interviewer was even further beyond him at this point.

He’d expected to just be let in once they arrived at the velvet-roped entrance, not really believing Paul’s claims about exclusivity, but instead, a broad-shouldered kid with a grin held them up at the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Gene echoed, and shoved down his bandana. On wry automatic, he held up his free hand—full of rings, including the skull one that the teenyboppers seemed fascinated by—as if it was a secret signal. The doorman blinked, unconvinced. Gene could hear Paul snort beside him. “I’m Gene Simmons from KISS, and the—lovely Miss Eisen and I would—”

Still smiling, the doorman pointed at his own tongue.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” But Gene stuck it out anyway. The kid’s expression didn’t change much as he opened the door to let them in. Gene pocketed his bandana, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Paul until they were on the VIP floor, and hopefully beyond the bulk of the press’ touch, and even then, he didn’t let go. Paul looked a little shaken up, anyway, though Gene couldn’t blame him. It was a different beast from last night, for all their objective hadn’t changed.

“Don’t worry. They won’t have gotten any good shots,” Gene said.

“That may not matter. Depends on who else is here.” Paul sighed, worming his arm out from Gene’s, shifting to hold his hand instead. No hesitation. He was getting accustomed to it. So was Gene.

Gene stole a glance Paul’s way before really taking a look at the scene, trying to absorb New York’s hottest discotheque, decide if the interior impressed him any more than the exterior. He decided it didn’t. Maybe too promptly. But the flashing lights, the blaring music—all that was ostensibly no different from CBGB, or any other bar or club; it was just a matter of size and budget and spectacle. It didn’t matter if someone was worth ten bucks or ten million; they all looked the same passed out on the floor. Enough of them were already that Gene couldn’t quite believe they’d gotten to Studio 54 on time.

“What do you think, Gene?”

“You liked it here?”

The VIP floor was covered in lounge furniture, long couches and glass-topped tables. The carpets were dirty, and the smell of booze was heavier in the air than Gene had experienced in years. Probably not since that ill-fated Hotter than Hell shoot when they’d first started off, the one that had very nearly ended with—well. Gene wasn’t in the mood to consider that one, not given Paul’s current shape.

But almost every square inch of the place was smothered in people. Hollywood giants, of vintage and modern flavors. He saw Liz Taylor—wild, to see Cleopatra in the flesh, nearly fifteen years out from the role and easily fifty pounds heavier. He saw Michael Jackson, making moon-eyes as usual at Diana Ross. Poor, hopeless kid. He could’ve sworn he saw Truman Capote, hitting on a well-muscled, shirtless bartender. And all around the giants were the hangers-on and the hopefuls and the arm candies of the duration. Transvestites in g-string bikinis, lesbians in suits. It was viscerally strange, the sheer variety. No one was paying them much mind yet, aware, somehow, that they were too sober to be worth noticing. Paul cleared his throat, defensive.

“Well, yeah, I like it. It’s kind of wild, yeah, but—”

Three feet from them, a producer was puking straight onto the carpet, while a Playboy bunny rubbed the top of his head. On top of one of the tables, a guy was snorting a line of coke straight down a naked girl’s breasts, and as he kept sliding, Gene realized that the powder ran all the way down, bisecting her torso.

“Paul, this is a cesspool.”

 “C’mon, you’ve seen this shit before.”

“Not all at once.” Gene shook his head. “You’re not even into it. Why would you go here?” He understood it for Ace and Peter, as drugged-up as they’d get. He didn’t understand it for Paul. What was he trying to accomplish? What would it really matter, getting with the big names right in their stomping grounds, when those names were so trashed that they were useless? I want to belong somewhere, that was what he’d said. But this somewhere wasn’t it.

 “I just—”

“Mr. Simmons!” came a voice out of the din, eager and excitable. Not a VIP. The tone was too innocent, too close to admiring. Gene turned around.

“I’m not doing auto—”

“Mr. Simmons! I work for Mr. Rubell! I’m one of the doormen!” The kid couldn’t have been older than twenty, blondish and broad-shouldered. “Sorry I didn’t get you at the door, we’ve got a couple new guys, they don’t know—but listen, we’re all looking for that Carol chick!”

“Good.”

“We’ll tell Mr. Stanley when we see him, too.”

“Thanks.”

The doorman nodded, making an awkward salute before heading back. Obliquely, Gene wondered if Bill and Sean had checked Studio 54 out yet. Rubell seemed to have a hiring preference in line with their tastes. He turned to Paul again.

“Looks like they got the memo. You wanna sit down?”

“I… maybe for a minute.” Paul’s eyes darted around, searching for an empty table. Gene looked, too, but he didn’t see one. No corners they could tuck themselves into—not that a corner would’ve been great for keeping a lookout for Carol. Gene felt Paul squeeze his hand. Shot nerves already. Gene could tell that much before Paul spoke again. “If I can keep from talking to anybody, that’d be great.”

“I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky,” Gene said dryly, spying a tall man getting up out of his chair and waving them over.

“If it isn’t Gene Simmons!” the man called out in a distinctively non-American accent. Even if he hadn’t spoken, the feathered brown hair and bright smile would’ve made it obvious. It was Barry Gibb, holding a glass of champagne. “I thought your band was back on the road!”

“Barry, hey,” Gene said, sticking out his hand on automatic. Barry shook it exuberantly. “You’re a few weeks early for that one. How are you?”

Paul looked a bit like he wanted to die on the spot. Barry didn’t seem to notice.

“Great, great. My little brother, Andy…” if possible, Barry’s beaming increased, “he’s just released a single. It’s a guaranteed hit.”

“Really? I think I’d heard he had his own group in Australia—”

“Zenta! You do keep up!” Barry clasped his shoulder. “No, that’s done with now. He’s doing some fantastic solo work…”

Despite the meaningful, sour glances Paul kept throwing his way, Gene’s interest was piqued enough at the thought of a hit, and the thought of a worthwhile contact—the time or two they’d met in passing prior, Barry had been just about this congenial, so Gene didn’t think he was drunk—that he accepted Barry’s invitation to sit down. The next twenty minutes were filled with shop talk, Barry sending off for a Coke for Gene and a whiskey highball for Paul (Gene suspected Paul took Barry up on the offer as payback rather than an actual desire to drink, since he barely touched it), and praise Gene had a hard time fully enjoying.

“My son loves KISS, you know,” Barry said at one point. “He’s never gotten half so excited over our albums.”

“Really? How old is he?” Gene took a sip of his Coke, leaning forward. “We’ll have Casablanca send him something. We have a whole catalog of new merchandise in the works.”

“He’ll be four in December.”

Paul, who had stayed mostly silent up until that point, looked mortified.

“Four?” he almost wailed. Barry seemed amused.

“Oh, love, it’s not an insult. I wish we had that kind of mass appeal behind us.”

“Gene, this—we’ve got to talk to Bill, Gene, we just can’t—I know we don’t get taken seriously, but for God’s sake—”

Under the table, Gene nudged Paul’s bare ankle with his boot. Paul flushed and cut himself off abruptly. Barry glanced over at Paul, then took a swallow of champagne.

“The youth market's the best one to be in, Polly. I've been in this industry long enough to promise you that."

“What, ten years?”

“Next year it’ll be twenty.” Barry got up, shaking both their hands. “I hate to leave you too abruptly, but I’m to meet up with Maurice in a bit. Great to meet you, Polly, great to see you again, Gene.”

“Yeah. And I do mean it, about the merch. We’ve got dolls—”

“Oh, Steve’d love them. Thank you.” Another bright smile, and Barry headed off. Paul let out a groan as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Twenty years,” he mumbled, slumping forward, propping his head up with his hand. “How the hell was I supposed to know the Bee Gees have been at it for twenty years?”

“I didn’t, either,” Gene admitted.

“Fuck, how old is Barry, anyway? Peter’s age?”

“I have no idea.”

“At least he’s not gonna see me again like this. God, he thought I was a jackass…” Paul sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“He didn’t take it personally. Barry’s a good guy.”

“Twenty years stuck with his brothers. I’m amazed they haven’t killed each other.” Paul got up, stepping away from the table, and Gene followed suit. “Think we can get a better look around without getting interrupted? I couldn’t see anything from here.”

Just from a cursory glance, Gene doubted it. Most of the other tables were full or near-full, and no good for people-watching. They’d be better off on the floor.

“We’re going to have to stand to see.” Gene started to take Paul’s arm again, almost on automatic, but a glance at his shoulder stopped him. “Did you get another bra?”

“What?”

Gene pressed a finger against the purple strap hanging past Paul’s sleeve. Paul shook his head, looking abashed.

 “No, this is… this is just the nightie.”

Paul’s cheeks were going a little pink. That pink went straight to red when Gene tugged the strap back into place for him. He had to push Paul’s hair back and turn up his sleeve in order to fix the strap up again to his shoulder, under the dress. His skin was soft, dotted with a handful of moles Gene hadn’t ever really noticed before. There was the pitted smallpox vaccination scar, and the tattoo, of course, the green stem peeking a little past his sleeve. Gene’s fingers lingered longer than they needed to on his arm before he remembered himself enough to pull back.

“The nightie? Why are you wearing that here?”

The redness in Paul’s face wasn’t anywhere near abating.

“Because I didn’t buy a slip. This dress is thinner than I thought.”

“I bet it looks cute on.”

Paul fidgeted, starting to adjust the strap himself, fiddling with the slider.

“Thought you said you just liked what was underneath.”

“Well, that’s the main event, but you’ve got to say something for packaging—"

“Keep pushing it and you won’t find out.”

“I’ll take the chance.” Gene grinned. “Dance with me.”

 He said it on impulse, almost airily. The song blaring through the speakers—some new funk bit from Marvin Gaye was already midway through. Paul put one hand on Gene’s shoulder. Still worried about what people thought of him, even in a place like this. A place where no one would’ve even given much of a shit about them dancing if Paul was like he ought to be. And yet here Paul was, thinking anyone’d care about a girl leading a guy. Gene shook his head, taking Paul’s arm and moving it to his waist.

“No, you lead.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

The driving, pulsating bassline and wailing saxophone were such a far cry from the CSNY album they’d danced to in Paul’s basement. There was a flippant, overly sexual air to disco that was kind of fascinating. More marketable than their own sordid stuff. Gene didn’t know if KISS would try and ride the wave—they’d talked about it, and Paul had tossed around a few song lyrics—but it hadn’t come to much yet. Might ruin their image. Might solidify it.

Step by step. Paul was stiffer on the dance floor than he’d been in the basement. Partially because of how he had to keep shifting them both around, to avoid dancing into other couples, or stepping on passed-out partiers. But there was more to it than that. His lips were pursed, as if he didn’t quite know how to handle the song. Maybe, for once, he was listening to the lyrics.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

A little sweat was clinging to Paul’s brow, and a little more to Paul’s palm, enclosed in his. He hadn’t tried anything close to fancy, not even any turns or spins. He’d seen Paul do better than this just a few hours ago. Nerves. Except the only time Paul didn’t nerve out was in front of an audience. And this audience was too wasted to care if the two of them were tearing up the dancefloor or stumbling through each step. Paul’s tongue was poking out between his teeth again, and he wasn’t looking Gene in the face, and he wasn’t looking around the room.

Something warm was spreading in Gene, the longer he looked at Paul, the longer they danced. Stepped in time, more like. That concentration made his features seem almost sweet. Paul’s hand on his waist was fidgeting, like he’d forgotten how to hold it. Gene squeezed his shoulder, and Paul raised his head, finally, as Gene cleared his throat to speak.

“Hey. What’d you say dancing was earlier?”

Paul blinked, caught off guard enough that he stopped moving.

“Getting a feel for your partner. Mirroring them.”

“That’s right.” Gene exhaled. His fingers inched up past Paul’s shoulder, touching his cheek for a brief second before returning to his shoulder again. “Could you mirror something for me, then? Right now.”

“Yeah.” Paul had turned his head towards Gene’s hand. Was looking right at him, all big dark eyes and red lips. Red lips that were twitching up, suddenly, in the faintest ghost of a smile. “What do you want to—"

Gene inclined his head and met Paul’s lips with his own.

Paul kissed back instantly. Greedily. Gene was almost taken aback. It wasn’t ferocious so much as desperate, as though all his pent-up energy was suddenly given just a single release. Paul’s tongue licked across Gene’s lips for entrance before Gene could even get there first, hot and overwhelming. Gene dropped his hold on Paul’s hand to cup his smooth, soft jaw, fingers careful not to brush too far past it. His fingertips caught onto Paul’s curls, stiff with hairspray, yet they still somehow felt good against his fingers. The scent of his cologne, emanating off his hair and neck, was almost overwhelming, cologne and sweat and something else; for an insane moment Gene felt like he could almost smell the want on him.

Paul tightened his grip on Gene’s waist, pulling him forward until their bodies were flush. Gene’s hard-on was getting unbearable, pressing up against Paul nearly worse than no relief, because of all the things wasn’t. Gene couldn’t think straight. Could barely let himself remember who was kissing him so ardently, who he was kissing back, whose lipstick was smearing against his mouth and jaw and neck—

Gene only pulled back to get a breath in. Paul’s hand had sunk below Gene’s waist, groping at his ass through the leather fabric. Paul kept shoving his hips against him, friction that didn’t really quite manage to hit its target. Too much of a height difference. They could fix that. Fuck, they could fix that right here in the disco, in one of those basement rooms—he could fuck Paul there, against the wall, or on the floor; he didn’t care, anywhere. He murmured against Paul’s neck, lapping and kissing, not quite daring to leave a mark against his skin. Gene barely felt Paul’s ankle latch around his boot, almost as if he was laying claim, but it warmed him, nearly as much as Paul’s little hitches for breath, the needy press of his lips against his skin. Gene grunted, fingers tightening on Paul’s hair, intending on tugging him back in for another kiss when Paul’s expression shifted, dilated, glassy eyes suddenly going wide, whole body tight as piano wire. His foot went back into place on the floor, stiff as a soldier, hands seeming frozen on Gene. The color was starting to drain from his face.

“Paul? What’s wrong?”

It must have hit him. His brain must have caught up with his libido faster than Gene’s had. Gene started to let go, feeling his brow furrow, a little, hopeless shame twitching in his gut, but then Paul grabbed onto him harder, shaking his head.

“It’s not you. It’s not you, I swear.” One hand withdrew, just to point. Gene couldn’t follow Paul’s finger at first, with the slew of people, but finally he caught sight of the blond doorman from earlier, ushering someone forward, towards them. Someone cute, but not beautiful. Not a VIP. Someone he knew wouldn’t belong on her own here, any more than Paul did.

A small young woman with light brown hair.

“She’s here.”

[gamelpar]

It’s All About Fakes (100 sentence prompts fanfic)

Because I suck a writing even short stories or drabbles, I write 100 sentences prompts for the Fake AH Crew instead.

Some of them are inspired by moments in Let’s Play videos, headcanons, social media posts, or just comes straight out of the blue.

Feel free to take inspiration from the prompts or use them.

Prompts are written from a non-shippy perspective, but each prompt can be intercepted in whatever way pleases.

Also my first work, so let’s see how this goes.

Hey, why don’t you read it on AO3 instead?https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787825

1. How the Fake AH Crew got this far is a hell of story, and you can bet it’s one damn worth telling. (Fake it Til’ You Make it)

2. Ray was a sniper; he could spot bullshit a mile away, so how come he ended up in the Fake AH Crew? (On the Spot)

3. Sitting by the wheel of the red minivan Geoff sighed for the 67th time that day, still disbelieving the fact that they were not on their way to carry through a well-planned heist but rather enroute to the beach for some “splashing and slacking”, as Jack had called it. (Sunday Driving - To the Beach)

4. “The Vagabond says: it’s all gonna be murder.” (What the Vagabond Says)

5. Whether it was the Golden Boy or Gavin; Mogar or Michael; they wouldn’t leave each other behind. (Bois Forever)

6. Lindsay---being an absolute goddess as always---supports Jack in her telling for Fiona, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. (Women’s League)

7. Matt screws something up; Trevor is there to help him fix it; then Gavin and Alfredo is there to screw it up even more. (Nice Job Breaking It)

8. It’s Bake a Cake Day (according to Gavin) and it’s Gents vs. Lads (insisted by Gavin) and it will also be known as the day when Geoff’s kitchen met its undeniable demise (because of Gavin). (Bake a Cake Day)

9. Long story short: Michael breaks into an animal adoption center for a cat because Lindsay, and Gavin and Ray tags along because why the fuck not. (No Animal Came To Any Harm Except For Gavin)

10. A heavily tattooed man walks into a bar; later, a mad man and a lady in a Hawaii-shirt joins him. (It’s Not a Joke but the Punchline is Fluff)

11. Lindsay and Jeremy have dealt with shit going sideways longer than most people so they know how to make the best of it. (Failure is an Old Friend of Mine)

12. “I hereby announce that the official Prank Wars Week is in session!” (Oh No)

13. The Vagabond might be ready to die, but Ryan knows he’s not. (Ready as I’ll Ever Be)

14. The Lads---and Geoff---gets drunk as hell one night and starts a sock company. (Socks, There’s Socks Everywhere)

15. A boring Fake AH Crew means a dangerous Fake AH Crew and the residents of Los Santos better prepare for chaos. (Boredom Can be a Health Hazard)

16. Ryan gets hiccups and Ray thinks it’s funny until he gets hiccups, too, and soon everyone is stuck with hiccups and everyone blames Ray for some reason. (The Hiccup Disease)

17. When dawn arrives the Fake AH Crew will never be the same again. (Dawn After Battle)

18. Shopping weekends was nothing Lindsay used to do regularly, until Ryan one time decided to come along; then it became a thing. (Stuff We Do Together)

19. Even after leaving the crew, Ray would still have a home to return to. (Home is Wherever You Make it Be)

20. “No---we’re not twins, we’re not brothers, we’re not related in any way, so please for god’s sake, stop asking that.” (Stop the Questions Goddamnit)

21. Jeremy tried to apply more pressure to the wound but as the time on the bomb was running out, so did the blood. (A Mistake You Won’t Live to Learn From)

22. Someone knocks---no, pounds on the door to Ryan’s apartment at 3AM in the morning and Ryan’s still not that happy to being woken up in the middle of the night even if it is Meg waiting behind the door. (Late Night Visitor   or   Expect the Unexpected)

23. “Hey, guys, Fiona here---you’ll never believe this---but I’m stuck in jail and I need one of you to come and bail me out.” (Let’s Bail)

24. Matt is found alone sitting on top of the roof, watching the sunset, but what Geoff finds is someone who needs to talk and so he decides to be that other someone who listens. (Everyone Needs Someone Sometimes)

25. Gavin gets into trouble, which drags Michael and Jeremy into more trouble, and Geoff just wants to have a fucking drink. (Prepare for Trouble)

26. Gavin makes a statement, and Ryan feat. Alfredo makes it a hundred times worse. (Disturbance of Your Own Making)

27. Being welcomed by the sight of a bloodied and battered Gavin through the open door eliminates any tiredness and annoyance Geoff had worked up to having been woken up by a loud pounding on the door at 2AM. (Bloody Brit)

28. That was the way of the Battle Buddies; if one went down, the other had to keep on going, no matter what. (Broken Promise)

29. Nothing lasts forever, and Ray knows that better than anyone. (Never Say Forever)

30. The remaining Gents as well the rest of the Fakes would always be missing a part of themselves from now on. (Parts & Pieces   or   Next Step is to Move On)

31. The alphabet wasn’t enough to cover every brilliant plan the Fake AH Crew had in store, but they never settled for a single letter anyways. (Seven Ridiculous Plans and One That Actually Made Sense)

32. To the Lads, brighter days ahead is just an illusion they can only dream of in the aftermath of a heist gone wrong which claimed the lives of the Gents. (Miserable Lads)

33. It’s a story from being refused of coffee, to wanting to commit suicide briefly, to Trevor having made room for tea-parties with Jeremy, Gavin and Lindsay in his schedule every now and then. (Shut Up and Have Some Tea)

34. Really, it all started when Ray wouldn’t leave Geoff’s house one night. (A Place for Everyone)

35. Usually things doesn’t escalate this far by playing a simple Xbox-game but having ended up in jail, Michael and Matt doesn’t have much of a say about it and Geoff’s pissed. (Hate the Players)

36. Waking up in a dark room tied to a chair with no slightest idea of what the hell’s going on tends to lead to some anxiety-ridden experiences, especially when it is Gavin who finds himself in that situation. (Blackout)

37. No one wants to be the only sober one left to take care of a drunk crew, but with Ray gone Ryan just has to accept that this is his life now. (Trust   or   Sober One)

38. To think it all started that day when Jack saved a drunk man from being robbed in a dark alley. (Mind Your Manners)

39. Neither Lindsay or Michael would force Gavin to put on a brave face after a nightmare; everyone had fears and it was okay to be scared sometimes. (Sharing is Caring)

40. Matt’s life was just another pile of broken pieces until he met Jeremy, and suddenly he had some glue to put the pieces back together. (Glue   or   Glue My Life Back Together)

41. In the temporary apartment Ray was living in at the moment there was a vase by the kitchen window, always holding five red roses. (A Vase Full of Roses)

42. Geoff’s mood could easily be improved a 100 times better with some nice and warm socks. (Can Never Have Enough of Socks)

43. The crew quickly learned that pairing up Ryan and Trevor together would leave a traumatic amount of battered bodies and large pools of blood behind. (Madness In Me)

44. Michael’s life was like a puzzle; bits and pieces all over the place, some fitting, some not, some missing or broken, some didn’t even belong---and Jack standing there in the middle of it all being the only one who seemed to sense some kind of pattern. (Puzzles)

45. The Fake AH Crew weren’t good guys---they never would be---but that didn’t mean they were incapable of doing good, and they were by far the most decent team of criminals that had ever set foot in Los Santos. (Bad Guys Do Good)

46. Tears kept falling, slowly soaking the photo Jack held in her hand of her and the crew---not wanting to forget, yet not wanting to remember. (Remember to Forget)

47. The pink sniper rifle that hung on the wall would always serve as a reminder for the members of the Fake AH Crew that they were not immortal after all. (We Could Be Immortals)

48. Ryan’s an evil mastermind and that frightens Gavin a little, but the Golden Boy reckon it’s time to beat the Vagabond at his own game. (The Reckoning)

49. Kerry Shawcross crosses paths with the infamous Fake AH Crew completely by accident, and all hell breaks loose. (Welcome to Fake Hell)

50. The blood on his hands belonged to someone he knew---someone he cared about---and Ryan had never been more afraid of himself. (There’s Someone There But it’s Not Me)

51. It’s Pride Month and Jeremy really takes it up a notch when coloring his hair this time. (Rainbows)

52. Watching them Lindsay realized that while each of them all had lost so much, they had found even more. (Less is More)

53. Trevor would be better than Geoff ever’d been at scheduling heists and leading the crew, but he still gets to handle all the complaining from the crew so he isn’t as satisfied as he would like to be. (Point of No Return)

54. When the realization strikes him that he’s the only one left remaining, Jeremy falls to his knees in defeat and can’t stop screaming. (What Remains)

55. Fiona can never seem to stop messing with Gavin in any way possible. (A Step Too Far)

56. “Yeah, they’re all idiots---but they’re my idiots, so don’t you fucking dare lay your hand on them.” (A Bunch of Savage Animal Idiots)

57. Times have never been darker for the Gents as each of them struggles to cope with the deaths of the Lads in the aftermath of an coordinated attack. (Falling Inside the Black)

58. The day he met the Wildcard, Michael’s whole world finally started to make some sense. (Wild World)

59. Geoff’s constant drinking worried Gavin sometimes. (Drunk Concern)

60. Matt didn’t believe anyone would care enough for him to consider him family, nor did he believe he would end up in becoming a part of one. (Lost and Found)

61. Alfredo always wondered who Trevor really was underneath his iron suit of armor. (Armor)

62. Even when stuck in a seemingly never-ending coma, Geoff was never alone. (Not Alone)

63. Alfredo joins the Fake AH Crew with more blood on his hands than most people---including himself---would’ve expected. (Red Sea)

64. There’s a perfectly valid reason why Lindsay, despite not being his roommate anymore, is the only one who has a key to Ryan’s apartment. (Key to the Door)

65. Four times Jeremy and Trevor talked their way out of jail and one time they didn’t. (Another Approach to the Problem)

66. Lindsay tried, and that’s why she was still alive, even though everyone else that mattered to her weren’t anymore. (The Fake Among the True)

67. Fiona was her own knight in shining armor and no tower could ever hold her captive for long. (Green Knight)

68. There were days when Jeremy saw a way out, yet the light would always fade at the end of the tunnel, leaving him in the dark. (No Way In, No Way Out)

69. The others would never come back, and Gavin, walking in the wake of that horrifying truth, felt like an empty shell with nothing left to give. (Empty)

70. Trevor would give his life for the crew just like Geoff and Lindsay had. (Third Time Counts)

71. One time for when each of the Fake AH Crew members showed strength and one time when they didn’t. (No Shame)

72. Jack and Geoff shared a special responsibility for every member of the crew, and Michael was no exception. (Nightmare Terrors)

73. ‘Who’s the creepiest motherfucker?’ is a question rather avoided and unanswered. (Creep Contest)

74. All Michael felt now was a burning anger that refused to flicker and fade, and thirst for revenge than could never be quenched. (Road Rage)

75. The last time they all saw each other the city was burning, wounds were bleeding---figuratively and literally---and they never expected to see each other again. (One Last Time)

76. Jack liked to be up in the early, quiet mornings while everyone was still asleep, but she was seriously going to tackle Ryan into bed if she found out he was still awake at 5AM again. (Go the Fuck to Sleep)

77. He’d said he was going to visit, but Ray always pushed the promise further to its limits every time. (Liar Liar)

78. Five times a heist went to hell and one time when it actually didn’t. (Heisting Hell)

79. Not every backstory of the Fake AH Crew’s members is full of shattered dreams and points of no return. (Wanted)

80. Gavin missed home sometimes, but the Golden Boy didn’t. (Two Sides of a Coin)

81. Jeremy’s admiration of monster trucks stretches way back to when he was only a child, walking past a toy store. (Monster Car)

82. “You can leave if you want”, Geoff said, “No one’s going to stop you.” (Freedom)

83. The Vagabond was almost always in control after the Fall of the Fakes, mostly because Ryan let him. (Dead by Daylight)

84. Perhaps the next mishap won’t be so embarrassing for Alfredo, but life didn’t seem to like him much at all. (It’s Life, What Can You Do About It)

85. Four times Geoff said no to either Gavin, Ryan or Lindsay bringing an animal home, and one time he actually said yes. (Animal Addition)

86. So the members of the Fake AH Crew decides to steal their boss’ yacht again and Geoff’s as usual late to the party. (Yacht Party)

87. The crew goes to get some tattoos, and Lindsay is very sure of which one she wants to get. (Tattoos)

88. When Jack falls sick and can’t make her awesome lunch for the whole crew, the crew makes one for her instead (and Jack appreciates it even if it’s a little burned). (Faking the Chef)

89. The day Fiona joined the Fake AH Crew is a day Gavin will very well remember. (Bully)

90. The B-Team is usually there to clean up the messes, except for this time. (Don’t Leave Your Messes Here)

91. The whiskey burned his throat when he guzzled it, and Geoff wished that the liquor could burn away the pain and memories the same. (Burning Bridges)

92. The Fake AH Crew may look like they’re having the time of their lives, but the outside is designed to hide the struggles and issues that lingers underneath. (Inside Out)

93. With the Gents missing, the Lads stuck in a burning building, and the B-team cornered in a firefight, things does not look good. (Already Over)

94. The Fake AH Crew never failed to be impressed by Michael’s colorful vocabulary of swear words. (Words of Color)

95. Jeremy tries to cover up some traces of his past life from the rest of the crew; it does not go the way he wants. (Known to the World)

96. The Ring had been like home, but he wasn’t earning any money being beaten up every round in familiar surroundings, so Michael left---and ended up in Los Santos. (Ring of Fire)

97. The different paths that every member of the crew took for themselves led each of them to end up somewhere they never intended to be, but somewhere they were meant to be. (Pathfinders)

98. It was safe to say that every member of the Fake AH Crew had at least one weird obsession; some had way too many, and some obsessions were just what the fuck. (Obsessions)

99. The Fake AH Crew heists in style, or they do not heist at all. (Do it with Style)

100. The Fake AH Crew is made up of a selected (un)worthy and unique individuals---each one with their own story of whens, ifs, whats, whos, and hows. (Now That We’ve Come So Far)

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 2 : Section 2 : Bite Back

Dap, Red, and Blue are headed home after pulling off a robbery with complications. Dapper’s decision to rewind will likely lead to conflict at home. But home, as we’ll see, has enough conflict already, and some of our boys have had just about enough of Anti’s torment and humiliations.

Trigger warnings for major abuse, ableism, choking and beating, and discussion of an off-screen suicide attempt.

Find Chapter One here.

Find Chapter Two here.

 Part Two of Chapter Two: Bite Back

cest-mellow asked: what if you say like, an animal started pawing the bag so you turned it back to get the gross off? anti isn’t fond of animals, maybe that ??

“Hm,” Dapper blinks at you, considering. “Maybe something like that. He sure doesn’t - ”

“Hey,” Blue cuts him off, flashing you a warning glare. “Honey, just tell him the truth, you’re only ever going to get in more trouble when he finds out you lied. You know he can see these signals if he wants to, right? What happened, anyway, Dap?”

Dapper pauses, staring up at his big brother.

Blue’s been good to him. Blue’s always as good as he can be to his brothers. That makes him unique to Dapper - he’s the only person he knows who’s never abused him.

“I’ll explain when we get there,” says Dapper, and even he isn’t sure, in that moment, if he is lying or telling the truth. “It was stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mmh,” says Blue, dissatisfied. He doesn’t press him, though.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, are you okay with how Anti treats you guys? I mean, he did hurt your little brother...

Blue sighs and leans back lazily against Red’s shoulder.

“Anti has temper problems. I don’t pretend otherwise. But I trust that he’s doing his best and I know that when worst comes to worse, he will protect us with his life. Most of the time, he’s good to us. And the times he loses his temper a little… well, it’s our fault anyway.”

Guilt washes across Blue’s face and he closes his eyes, feeling the bus rattling around him.

“But that’s my job to help him with. That’s my duty, above all else. When Anti is not himself, I am the one who’s best at easing him again. I do what I can to keep us all safe. But I trust Anti. I trust Anti. To the ends of the earth.”

His hand tightens on Dapper’s shoulder, massaging gently at his muscles.

Submission (still doesn’t tell me who from for some reason?):

a cute little fam to brighten your day

 “What is that?” gasps Red, pushing over Blue’s head despite an irritated “owww, Roser!” “A cow? I fucking love it, holy shit.”

“They’re just sending him pictures of animals now,” complains Blue.

“Don’t whine,” giggles Red.

“Anti won’t like it.”

“Fine, fine, sheesh. I can turn that off. But look, Dapper likes it.”

Dapper snorts and rolls his eyes, smiling, nevertheless, at the cute little cows.

“Okay, Red can come with me when I run away to be a dairy farmer, but Blue’s too grumpy.”

“Hell yes!”

“Hey! Little jerk!”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Blueberry Poptart! You know if you guys ever get into a jam again, you might want to be able to speak some Spanish, and I know a little! In fact, there's this awesome Spanish poem that I know. You like *poetry* don't you? Anyway it's by San Juan de la Cruz and it's called "Llama de amor viva" or "Flame of Living Love" in English. I could teach it to you if you want.

“My Spanish is quite good, actually!” chirps Blue, looking up at you. “Anti says I studied languages with my first master. A lot of magic doesn’t translate across languages, so it’s best to learn as much as you can in the original tongue. But hey! I’d love to hear some poetry if you want to send a chunk of it. You never know when you might find a spell curled up in the letters.”

“He’s a nerd for that shit,” comments Red, patting his head.

“And maybe you can teach this dope here some of the language, anyway.”

“Hey!”

Dapper’s listening too, careful. He can’t speak it, but he’d love to get an ear for it.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is it that bad for lil' Dap to be happy, guys? They're harmless pics of animals.

“I told you,” answers Blue, a little warning in his voice. “My job is to keep my little brothers safe. If I think Anti won’t like his work cameras being filled up with pictures of baby cows, it’s better to just get rid of it. Anyway, it’s rare we get this fancy bigger camera, the type that can show pictures here on the side, so it doesn’t matter much.”

“Oh!” Red peers eagerly over his shoulder. “We should take some pictures.”

“What did I just say about clogging up the camera?”

“Aww.” Red slouches down in his seat, kicking his legs up on the one in front of him, but he knows Blue is right.

nikkilbook asked: A bunch of grumpuses, the lot of you.

“Grumpuses,” repeats Red, popping the ‘p.’ “Grump, grump, grump.” He bounces his leg and stares out the window, humming to himself and rocking his head back and forth, like music is playing in his head. “Well, let’s get home and see if our mood improves, huh?”

The bus pulls up about a mile from their home, and Red knows as soon as he stands up that Dap can’t make the walk.

He can’t blame him. Somedays, it is a hard walk even without a stab wound.

Up, up, up the mountain, as dust shifts beneath your feet and rocks slide beneath your shoes. Wild dogs snap and bark, not always from afar, and Red has begun training his brothers to carry a rock with them at all times, and not be afraid to use it. The smell is one of sewage or cooking meat, down here amid the houses, and flies buzz persistently at every face that comes their way. Chickens parade around the streets, and from dark, cool doorways with no doors or coverings, children often watch the strange white men make their way up the mountain, friendly enough, but abnormal. There are others less kind-faced - Red exchanges tight, wary smiles with the men outside the bar drinking in cold silence every single day.

There is one person alone who is securing their place in this slum.

And that is Doktor.

He’s had three patients since he came here. With Blue as his translator and Anti’s approval, he treated each of them in quick, skilled, and absolutely free succession, stitching up a cut hand, wrapping up a bad concussion, and prescribing some medicine for the old man up the hill, living in a box smaller than their living room back in Norway.

Anti’s pleased with him. The local people are beginning to tolerate them. And in this lively, bright, rapid-paced, close-knit, and deeply impoverished little community on the dry side of the mountain, Anti knows that his family is safe.

This is not a place where secrets fly. This is a place where people have learned to protect each other. He will find a way to make sure his boys blend in if Red and Blue have to rob every medical van in the city to do it.

Higher on the mountain, there is a little building, with rooms and doors and old machinery. It was going to be a real medical center once, with government funding and everything, but the project shut down after the governor who made the initial promises was elected. Only dogs and mice lived there when Anti found it. Now his family has replaced them, and no one has yet found them or come to drive them out. He does his best to ensure that they never do.

“Come on, then,” says Red, staring up the mountain. He crouches down low.

“Red,” protests Dap, exhausted. “I don’t want to ride your back.”

“You can’t walk.”

He sighs. True.

“People will stare.”

“We’ll go the side route.”

“The side route is more difficult for you. No stairs built there. Just dirt and uphill climbing.”

“Come on, then,” repeats Red, undaunted. “Come on.”

Dapper wonders, sometimes, if Anti sets up his life to make it more humiliating.

He gets onto Red’s back.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dok, are you making out alright?

In that building high up on the mountain, a camera finally fizzles into life again, and you turn towards the screen fast enough to catch a sight of the good doctor himself, his back to you.

He’s sobbing so hard he can barely breathe. And cooking rice over a rusted oven burner.

Startled by the beeping of the camera, he whirls on you.

A moment later, he is bashful.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Anti was using you again.” His voice is raw. He wipes hastily as his face, splotchy with redness. “I’m fine.”

And he pushes you slightly away, so you can no longer see his face.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How are you liking being so close with your brothers, Dok? Blue and Red seem to be loving taking care of you guys.

“O-oh.”

You can hear Dok trying to get his breathing back under control, but this, at least, is a gentle question, a distracting question.

“Good, yeah, pretty good.”

His voice is quieter than usual.

“Um, Blue and Red are very happy lately, which is nice. We’d been kind of… down, for a while, so I guess Anti was right about needing all of us together for us to be a real family. Red doesn’t snap at anyone anymore. He’s a lot less stressed. And he and Blue have started taking most of the night watches, so we… I, I mean… I get a lot more sleep.”

He sniffles. The rice sizzles slightly as he stirs it around.

“Feels pretty safe here. Odd, seeing as it is a much more dangerous neighborhood. I think I like having a little commotion around us again, not being so isolated… I see children, families, hear other people talking, see the way other people live. I am only frazzled thinking maybe we will get parasites or diseases from the bugs or something… don’t let anyone touch the dogs, alright? Covered in worms and skin infections, filthy things.

“And Dapper and I get on okay.”

His voice breaks, but only for a second.

“We have a nice time together. I like getting to know him again. It was almost like I’d forgotten who he was entirely until Anti gave him back to us.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What about Trick, Dok?

There’s a clank as the spoon is set back down on the counter. A moment later, heavy, desperate breathing, and a very small whimper.

Doktor needs a long time to reply.

“Ah, yeah, Trick… Anti s-says he’s good, so… he’s good. He’s good. He’s fine. He’s happy. Yeah. With master, I’m glad for him, really. If he’s actually good. And he is! Anti says he is. So he is. He’s fine. He’s good.”

musical-in-theory asked: Hey Anti, do you ever think about how temporary you are? Your hate, your pain. It’s all temporary. You’ll be gone one day with nothing left behind but some people who only knew you as “that glitch villain”. Even with Dapper at your side, you can’t escape that. Momento Mori, you absolute pecan.

“Ever think about how temporary you are?” he repeats, in a high-pitched mock. “Says the fucking human…”

Anti is alone in a room set up almost exactly the same as his office in Norway, with dozens of computers circling him where he sits, cross-legged, on the floor. He has a few less electronics now - he always cleans out during a move - and there’s a baby monitor sitting at his knee, playing the sound of soft, heavy breathing.

“Momento Mori, ha… there’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long few years… Jack loved those videos, watched like half of them. Some of his best friends just fucking around. So goddamn stupid. I did like the episode where they pretended to kidnap him and just had him tied up and gagged in the background for a whole episode, haha. Someday I’ll go hunt those two down and kill them, just to make them pay for all the happiness they gave my stupid, fickle, temporary creator.”

He looks like he could monologue for a while longer, but the small sound of crying cuts him off, and not from the baby monitor. Eyes flashing with fury, he glitches to his feet and stalks toward the door.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey...Henrik, it's okay.

There’s a long moment of sniffling. He turns you slightly back towards him.

“Thank you,” he manages weakly, earnestly, and then he is sobbing again, clutching at his chest with his head thrown back, crying like his heart is broken -

A door slams open across the hall.

“Doktor, shut the fuck up.”

His voice is loud as a gunshot and twice as pissed. Doktor startles hard, reaching up to grab his own throat, to cut off his next sob. His pupils are blown wide and fixed on the wall.

“You want me to fucking kill you?” shouts Anti, standing in the doorway of his office.

Doktor shakes his head rapidly, frozen stiff, tears coursing down his panicked face.

“If I have to hear Trickshot whining ‘ooh, ohh, I can hear my poor Allemagne crying, oh no, oh no, I’m too pathetic to live on my own,’ I’m going to tie you both up in rope and hang you from the fucking ceiling fan. Do you understand, you little brat?”

Doktor nods desperately, trying not to choke.

After a long moment, Anti slinks down the hall towards him. Doktor remains frozen stiff, staring at the wall. His master regards him for just a moment before turning to his cooking.

You can see, now, the fluffy white rice just finished on the oven stove, and, beside it, a little plate with something that looks almost like a frittata on it, but thinner and more fried. Anti picks up the plate and sniffs at it, blinking.

“Where’d you get eggs? Which one of you stole these?”

Doktor clears his throat as fast as he can, stiffened up straight. “No one. One of the vecinas brought them by. To pay me back for stitching the cut up.”

For a moment, Anti regards the eggs warily, tearing off a piece to nibble on it. Egg, canned ham, onions. Good to eat, with protein and a nice enough flavor.

“This is good,” he says finally, and Doktor slumps just a little, relieved. “Good boy. Making your own keep, huh? Or two bucks worth of eggs, anyway. Once you have more supplies you can do more. Load up some rice, then, you don’t want your little brother to starve.”

Doktor turns to spoon up some rice and put it on the plate. Anti waits, scanning him carefully, taking in his reddened eyes and shaking hands.

“Dok, get it together.”

“Es tut mir leid,” whispers Doktor.

“Yeah,” says Anti. “It is.”

And he turns to take the food back to Trick’s room.

the-weirdest-fan asked: So are you gonna hunt down and murder anyone Jack liked whatsoever? Is that on your bucket list?

“If I get the time. Who knows? Could be fun. And I do need to stop by Cali at some point. Wish I could mock some of his closer friends the same way I mock you… oh, well.”

Anonymous asked: What about YOU, Dok? Pardon me for saying so but you don't seem good. Or fine.

“Es tut mir leid. Es tut mir leid. I’m so sorry. No one should have to worry about me.”

His voice is a strained whisper. He clutches the spoon desperately in his hands.

“Lately my distress is so much bigger than I am… I am drowning at sea…”

the-weirdest-fan asked: "'I’m going to tie you both up in rope and hang you from the fucking ceiling fan.'" That gave me the funniest image in my head oh my god. You are an excellent comedian, Anti.

Anti pauses, frowning. “Yeah… hilarious. Some of you are more playful than others, huh?”

reverseblackholeofwords asked: But you've been doing good work, Dok, helping those people. That must be nice, right?

“Oh, oh.”

He softens, rubbing at his tear-stained face. For a moment something gentle is in his eyes, not the same as anything you’ve ever seen before. His hands calm.

“It is, it is… I was scared at first, you know, because sometimes when I… well… some of the things I have done to injured bodies is not so pleasant. I haven’t exactly kept the healer’s oath, if you understand me. My surgeries have not always been to decrease pain, as it were. And sometimes even when I try to heal, all my hands remember is the hurt I have caused…”

He pauses, sighing, breathing in deep.

“But lately has been good. Only three people I have cared for, but I was glad to do it, so glad to do it. They needed me, you know? And I was there, and Anti allowed it, even though we try to live so quietly. It’s good of him.

“I just wish… well, never mind. Never mind, I’m grateful.”

Anonymous asked: What do you mean "functional"? What's wrong with him?

Anti steps into the room at the back of the hall, and closes the door, quietly, behind him.

For a moment you just see him watch, staring down at his brother. Something like warmth moves through his eyes. Something like fear.

“Hey, lil stammer,” he whispers, stepping over towards the pair of mattresses stacked on top of each other in the middle of the room. “Get up, Trick, eat something, so.”

He sinks down onto the bed beside his body.

Trick lies still on his stomach, a pillow pulled over his head, breathing sleepily. He probably shouldn’t have his mouth so covered, but Anti doesn’t know that.

He pulls the pillow gently away. Trick stiffens slightly as he comes back to consciousness, aware of Anti beside him, so close, so damn close, always so fucking close.

“Eat,” says Anti, more strongly now. “Eat, now. You’ve slept all day, tired thing. Eat, your twin made it for you.”

This is enough to open Trickshot’s eyes - bloodshot, exhausted. He stares up at Anti, his mouth trembling, wary.

“Going to need me again?” whimpers Trick, tears welling in his eyes.

Anti lets out a short growl, turning his face away, swallowing irritation.

“Trick, I have told you a hundred times now. No more possession.”

Trick lets out a low groan and shivers, clutching at his hair, gritting his teeth.

“Oil under my sk-skin…”

“There’s nothing under your skin,” murmurs Anti, petting his hair. “I promise, I checked. Come, so, eat. Eat.”

He proffers a plastic fork full of rice and eggs. Trick just stares up at him, foggy and exhausted, like he hasn’t even noticed the food in front of his mouth. Anti sighs a very long sigh, rubbing at his face.

“Trick’s had a bit of a breakdown,” explains Anti slowly, precisely, in response to your question. “He handles a lot of things much worse than his brothers do, and he didn’t get the help he needed right afterwards… a certain twin wasn’t watching closely enough… and now we’re back to this. Almost as bad as he was the first time I took him over.”

Anti reaches over the mattress to pick up a little piece of fabric. It’s familiar to you, patterned in dolphins - of course, the crinkle paper Trick bought himself as a present from the little store. Anti holds it over Trick’s face and crinkles it slowly in his hands. Eventually, Trick seems to respond, blinking and sitting up a little so that he can take the paper from Anti and begin rolling it gently around in his hands, humming a small, broken melody to himself.

Anonymous asked: You know Anti there's one way you can fix Dok and Trick's miserable mood considering you don't have the patience of a saint. You could just... Oh I dunno... maybe just let them comfort each other.

“Doktor failed me. Trick needs better than him now. He’s not enough.”

For a second, Anti must breathe deeply, watching his little brother snuggle back down in his blankets, rubbing the crinkle paper comfortingly against his collar bone.

“Maybe no one is. I’ll handle this myself. Don’t tell me how to care for my little dog.”

cest-mellow asked: trick? can you hear us? are you alright?

Anti gets up to tidy the room a little, kicking around sweaty sleep clothes and rearranging Trick’s discarded blankets. Trick sighs as the sheets are pulled back over his bare chest, but doesn’t protest, watching as Anti moves around the room, picking up water bottles and laundry.

“They asked you a question.” Anti’s voice is low and warning. “Focus, Trick. I don’t see any reason why fucking depression means you can’t hold a goddamn conversation…”

Trick blinks, recognizing, slowly, displeasure in his master’s voice. Confused, he rubs at his face, processes the order, and turns back to you, trying to fix whatever he’s done.

“Am I alright?” he repeats. “Um… I’ve been better.”

“You’re sick,” Anti informs him shortly.

“I’m sick.”

“But nothing that won’t pass.”

“Nothing that won’t… yeah.”

“You’ve got medicine.”

“I do, uh-huh. I had it yesterday, you gave it to me.”

“That was this morning.”

“It makes my head sooo foggy.”

“Better that than suicidal,” grumbles Anti, dropping his clothes into the laundry hamper.

“Suicidal?” repeats Trick, a little squeakily. “Am I?”

“No. Stop thinking about it. I already pushed it out of your head so don’t go looking for it.”

“Okay, Anti,” promises Trick, staring warmly up at him. Anti gets a little closer and Trick reaches out to tug on his shoelace, smiling.

A small smile flickers across Anti’s face. He leans down to kiss the side of Trick’s head and tries again with his dinner.

“Eat.”

This time, Trick obeys, sitting up to eat the rice and eggs off the fork that Anti holds.

“There’s my good boy. That’s better. We’re not really so bad off, huh? We’re okay.”

Anti looks stressed.

reverseblackholeofwords asked: What do you wish? You can tell us.

“Ah, yes, well.“

Doktor clears his throat and turns back to the stove, cracking another egg over his frying pan. He’s got other hungry brothers too, and he expects them back soon enough.

“Well, it would just be more fun with Trick. I wish he could be my helper like he usually is. I would probably complain a little, ha, cause all he has to do is sit around, and hand me things, and cook a little, which he loves. But he would make me laugh and help talk to everyone and make everyone feel okay. He loves people, you know… used to be less paranoid about them. There was even a child in here the other day. He would have chased him all around, and bounced him in his arms, and spoken broken Spanish with just enough enthusiasm for it to not even matter… yeah. I wish Trick was with me.”

seagullsausage asked: are you really that concerned over trick, anti?

Anti’s voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it.

“No… no, of course not… he’s fine… fuck, course I’m not concerned over him. This is my most useless little mouth to feed, don’t you know?”

He shoves the fork at Trick, dropping it and sitting back, anger and concern warring on his face.

“You’re one hell of a nuisance, you know that?” he tells Trick.

“Believe it or not,” mumbles Trick, closing his eyes. “But I don’t want this to be happening any more than you do, master.”

Almost shakily, Anti reaches down to touch his face. “Don’t fall asleep again. Sleep too much.”

“Do my best. Talk to me, then.”

Anti’s mouth opens and then closes again. He doesn’t know what to say.

nikkilbook asked: You’re allowed to want things, Dok. You’re allowed to wish things were better than they are.

“Yeah… yes. I suppose. But no point to complaining, so best not to think about it.”

Anonymous asked: Do you really believe everything is okay Anti? I mean you’ve done everything you’ve wanted. They’re all under the same roof and absolutely adore you as their brother...what’s there to be stressed about?

“I’m not stressed!” shouts Anti, startling Trick. “Shut up! Everything’s fine! Everything’s fine! Nobody’s tearing at the seams, nobody’s going to die, nobody’s hunting for us, I’m not losing my fucking grip on any of them! Soon as Dapper comes home, he’s my little bitch again, okay? What, you think I don’t know it’s one of his clear days? His head-on-straight days, when he thinks he’s a big tough puppy with his teeth growing in? I’ll have him begging for me to kiss him over and over and over again. And if I have to push back on Doktor afterwards, and then shut Trick up again, and then check on the twins, and do it all again the next week, I’ll do it, I can do it! What, he thought he could make enough of them that I couldn’t hold them all at once? He thought he could save them from me? Stupid fucking boy! He was wrong! He was wrong about everything and I’ll prove it! You - ”

Anti reaches down to grab Trick’s hair and Trick yelps, alarmed, hiding his face.

“ - just don’t do anything fucking stupid, and everything will be fine! Do you understand me?”

But Trick has lost the ability to answer. Choking on his misery, he sinks back onto his mattress and rocks himself back and forth, clinging to his crinkle paper.

“You’re fine,” pants Anti, pushing his hands away. “You’re fine. You can have whatever you want. What, stronger medicine? Food? You have sunlight, you’re warm, you’re full, you sleep plenty, you’re clean and healthy. What do you want, just tell me and I’ll get it for you! You’ve had a twin for months, and Dok loved you, loved you as much as I’ve ever seen a human love another human, and it still didn’t stop you… I d-don’t… I don’t understand why you won’t get better? Just tell me, puppy, just tell big brother why you won’t get better…”

Anonymous asked: Anti, to save whatever sanity that you have left it might be smart to just give him back to Dok. I understand that he failed you, but give him a chance to prove himself again. It would really boost their spirits and things would go a lot better. Then the stress would just fade away...

“No, no, no. Too touchy-feely, too strong a bond between the two of them, not good for him any more. Asking for Dok instead of me, ha… No, I’m the one in charge, I’m his big brother, I’m his master. And I can control this, just like I control everything else. I’ll fix it. Okay, Tricks? You’re happy right here with me. Right?”

Trick stares up at him, his face very pale. He’s mumbling something, his pupils shrinking slightly.

“What?”

“Isn’t real,” groans Trick, in a voice that shakes like a leaf stuck in a doorway, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “This isn’t even real. This isn’t even my body… h-having another n-nightmare, D-deutsch…”

At the end of his rope, Anti lowers his head into his hands and makes the wise decision to glitch away.

Trick’s door is locked. He lies on his mattress alone, staring, white-faced, at the ceiling.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Anti do you really think you can just snap your fingers and his depression will evaporate into thin air, cause if so I hate to break it to you but that's not how it works

Anti’s gone back to sitting in his room, leaning over his computers, trying too hard to concentrate.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” he grumbles, digging at an old scar on his throat, as he watches your words come in. “Something has to change, I get it, I get it. I’m trying new things, shut up. I’ve got this, I can handle this. Something has to change. Something has to change.”

diamond-game asked: Is this anti? If this is anti is it possible for you to trick us?

You made Anti laugh enough to shake some of the anger off his face.

“Now, darling,” he purrs, pushing his hair back, looking, suddenly, much like Doktor, and then, a second later, a little like Red, and then Dapper, and around, and around, his face shifting minutely, his eyes changing, the way he carries himself adjusting like he’s changing the settings on a character customization screen. He smiles at you with black eyes, Blue’s face, and a mouth full of teeth.

“Would I ever do a thing like that?”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Anti? Most animals don’t have a concept of time. A long term concept, anyway. They don’t count the seconds until they die, unlike humans, and... whatever you are. You should envy animals, Anti. They don’t stress about time running out. Actually, you should envy a lot of things.

“Stress about time running out,” Anti repeats in a growl, typing rapidly on the computer on his lap. “I own time. I’ve tasted its blood. Forced it to kiss my face. Dragged it away from its family and made it my pet. I don’t have to count anything. I am more immortal than I’ve ever been.”

Anonymous asked: I'm amazed you're so flustered with Trick being dissociative. All of them are. Your poorly crafted reality stripped them of their identities, memories, and hell, even the thoughts they're allowed to have. They're just expressing it all differently, and no matter how much you think you can ground them in falsities, it won't matter because everything they know, past and present, is fractured. When you're not treating symptoms, you're actively tearing wounds open.

“Yes, all of them are, I know that, I designed them that way. A little trauma at first helps foster dependency. I plan this shit, you know. I plan everything. And fine, maybe my little mind tricks don’t always ground as well as they could - but that’s why I have other measures in place. That’s why I make an effort with occasional shows of affection, occasional treats and rewards. That’s why I let them see, sometimes, that the things that I tell them threaten them are real. That’s why they have twins! If there are days when faith is shaky, when I am called away from them and all they can see is what Jack forced them to see, for so long - bloodshed and hatred, as if that is the only color I’ve ever worn - they’re supposed to have their brother to sleep beside, concrete and warm to the touch. Worth living for. Worth staying for.

“And then I come home, and make it well again in its entirety, and none of their snaps or episodes or trauma or any of the other cry-baby shit they get up to is enough to take them from.”

Anti growls and tugs at his hair, gritting his teeth.

“And it’s meant to be enough. But apparently Doktor wasn’t enough for his twin to hold on to. Now Trick is like this and I have to fucking fix it. He never could save anyone.

“I needed to strip so much of their memories away. But sometimes, I wish there were things I could let him remember - all the people who died or sickened or slipped into long, long comas at his hands, people he loved more than most anyone. He never could save anyone when it mattered. He’s a shitty excuse for a healer, and even worse failure of a brother.”

Anonymous asked: Bud...you can’t force someone to get better. That’s not how that works at all. It’s a long, patient process that’s build on devotion and love not...fear and anger. You do not understand how to love, Anti, that is why Trick will not get better.

“Whatever. You don’t understand anything. You’ve never been inside his head. Never seen the way he thinks and the way his neurons fire. He just needs a little re-adjusting, some chemicals put back in place, a little comfort from his master. He always was desperate for my attention. I can show him fucking ‘devotion and love’ for a few weeks if that’s what it takes. I just get a little - ”

He glances up at you, clearly deciding how much to tell.

“ - a little frustrated with how long it’s taking. I need to find a way to speed this up, because I very much prefer to have Dapper close at hand instead of useless little Trickshot. Besides, his freak-out is putting the whole house on edge.”

nikkilbook asked: Has it crossed your mind that YOU are the problem here, O Eternal One?

Anti mumbles something about murdering the lot of you, scowling at his computer screen.

Anonymous asked: Because he constantly lives in fear of you throwing him away once you're done. Because the pain he's experiencing isn't something you could simply throw the basic needs and some little affection here and there. Lashing out at him for being unwell is just making it worse. Don't even think of lashing out at the others because then he'll think it's his fault. This isn't something you can resve with screaming or threats of punishment Anti. All you'll do with that is push him further over the edge.

Anti growls, chewing on his lip.

“You don’t understand anything about my pets. He’s enjoyed worse treatment from me - he enjoyed anything from me in the old days, as long as he was the center of my attention. Let me split his lips and then smiled at me with them. Just happy I was playing with him, even if I was playing too rough.”

Anti giggles, relaxing a little.

“He was like a little puppy for me when I first broke him in, even better than Dapper’s ever been. I kept the two of them like twins back then, because Trick was so attached to him, and I figured the entertainment was good for them. And then I could come home at the end of the day to the two of them completely ecstatic to see me, asking to be let off their leashes so they could come lie down with me, or just put their heads on my lap while I worked…

“I had to change it eventually, of course, as you can tell, but… hm, that’s interesting. Haven’t thought about it for a long time. Maybe it would be good for him to go back to that. I think I still have his old collar, maybe even the muzzle… maybe he’d like to see Dapper, I don’t know… I did a little hate conditioning between them for a while, but they seemed to be getting along a few weeks ago, so maybe it wore off. Hmmm…”

Anonymous asked: You know, Anti, you're really being uselessly obstinate. Why does it have to be you that brings Trick back around? You're the leader, and you've got more important things to do, after all. Why not just delegate? Maybe not to Dok if he didn't do such a hot job before, but maybe one of the others. Blue perhaps.

Anti shrugs slowly, tilting his head back and forth - ugh, is his neck broken? - and chewing on his lip. “Well, I can’t really… I mean… I have a lot of missions for Blue and Red recently and I don’t want Blue getting over-attached, he’s already a little too high-strung when it comes to protecting his little brothers. I’ve left him with Trick once or twice when I had to leave the house. Red definitely can’t, I need him to have a distance from the others so he can discipline better.

“And Dapper… fuck, but I don’t want the same problem to come up again! Whatever. I’ll think about it. Maybe a couple quick visits from someone wouldn’t hurt…

“But really I need to keep him close at hand. If he starts to get thoughts so dark they could kill him, I need to be able to get inside his head and train them out of him.”

the-weirdest-fan asked: I gotta say, though I don't approve of your methods, it's good that you're keeping most of them somewhat happy and giving them a purpose. Definitely an improvement from the last house. Good job.

Anti bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “Thank you! I love having Blue so much, he’s perfect for keeping everyone a little happier! Things are so much better now I can focus on something other than tracking him down. I love having the full set.”

cest-mellow asked: maybe he just needs to see dok and his other brothers. trick is a people person right? let him be around people! you can still watch over him, be with him, listen to him. you can still do everything. if being alone with him this long hasn’t worked, try something new. put him with people. if it doesn’t work, you can just bring him back, and everything will stay just fine.

“No, no, no. He can’t go back to Dok. Maybe I’ll never give him back to Dok, I don’t know.

“But… yes, maybe something needs to change just a little. Humans need socialization. I’m very good at mimicry, but sometimes I think that there really is something to them that I don’t have - something about the weakness that… makes others feel safe? I guess? I don’t pretend to understand it. But, yeah… maybe he needs to see someone. I think I’ll give him Dap or Blue for a little while, soon. Or maybe I can even find something for him to do with other people. Doesn’t he like kids? And babies and things like that? I could get him a doll, maybe? He plays with the little paper like he’s a child again. We’ll have to see.”

immabethehero asked: Just let Trick see Dok and he'll feel better... stop denying it Anti

“Oh, what was that about this not being something that can be fixed in a day? I’ve already told you Doktor wasn’t enough to keep him safe from himself. He needs a stronger hand to guide him. I admit, things haven’t been perfect, but I just need to get this right so he has the chance to get over this shit.”

the-weirdest-fan asked: You know Anti, maybe giving Trick back to Dok for a second could be a good thing. I mean think about it, you wouldn't have to deal with either of their incessant whining, and Trick might be be fixed in the process. And, as a bonus, they'd owe even more of a debt to you, making them potentially more loyal. If Dok fails to fix him, then you have an excuse to take your anger out on someone, so while outcome 1 would be preferred, you get some out of it either way!

“Hm. Good as ‘fixing’ the little brat sounds, I don’t trust Dok to protect him right now. Might be sleeping too hard again, not even noticing the signs. Fuck, you don’t know how much stolen fucking pharmacy Percocet Trick swallowed before Dapper woke up and stopped him… Fuck! I hate fucking human feelings, I hate how fast my heart was racing, watching him writhe on the ground like that!”

Anti grips at his hair and then shouts aloud, striking his fist against the earth and making his computers glitch into the same screen of multi-colored glitches.

“Stupid fucking Doktor! Stupid fucking Trick, thinking he can escape me that easily! They don’t get to die until I fucking say so! Selfish little brats!”

Anonymous asked: Poor little glitch can't handle all five of his brothers at once, hm? Whose the puppy throwing a fit now?

Anti growls in a way that is no longer human, his teeth lengthening in his mouth.

“I can handle them. He was a fool if he thought five was enough to stop me. Stupid fucking boy.”

Anonymous asked: I’m gonna say this once, snapping turtle, give Chase back to Henrik so Henrik can give Chase what he fucking needs. YOU do not have what he needs right now. If it makes you feel better just spin it in a what that makes you look like you’ve been sent by your “divine counterparts” to entrust a failed doctor with a hurting patient so that he can prove himself once again. The only way he’s getting him back is because you said so, therefore you have the power in the house hold. (1/) - (/2) You broke him so you cannot fix him. It’s like putting a bandaid over a crack in steel.

“Newsflash, you fucking brats!” screeches Anti, leaping up to his knees, his eyes vanishing into a black void, his teeth splitting through his lips as they become horrible fangs, his face turning ugly and distorted and his body contorting strangely, like a thing with more bones than it knows what to do with. “Chase was broken before I fucking took him! Chase was broken the day Jack created him! Chase is a fucking egg on a wall, and all of Jack’s horses and all of Jack’s men have never been able to put him fully back together. This is Jack’s fault! He made him like this! Made him with a gun in his hand and no children to love! He made all of them shattered, all of them fucked up, all of them broken so that he could use them for fucking entertainment! He was cruel and he was careless and it’s his fucking fault! I don’t care what you think, I don’t have to explain myself to you, I’ve never had to explain anything to you. You’d never believe me, anyway. Your little idol! Your little god! Well, here’s the truth, you brats: Jack never loved a single one of them, no matter how much you want to believe he did. He’s the reason this is happening. And no matter what I do, no matter how much the temper Jack gave me overflows or the violence I was born with turns against them, these little puppets will always be better off with me than they were with that - that - that - ”

Suddenly Anti is shrinking back on himself, his face white.

He looks very young. He is 27 and his hair is grassy green. He is a slim young man with bright blue eyes and no smile on his mouth, wearing jeans and a red sweater and small black gauges.

He sighs, closing his eyes like he has a headache.

“No more questions. Go talk to the pets or I will turn you off. I have work to do.”

Anonymous asked: Y’know, I don’t think we’ve even asked. Trick what do you want? What will make you feel even just a little bit better? Sorry for all the yelling, buddy, we’ll *glares at Anti* try to be more quiet.

Trick’s turned slightly towards you on the mattress, rubbing slowly at his tear-stained face, his hands shaky.

“I’m sorry this is how you have to see me,” he croaks, curling in on himself. “I’d rather you didn’t… but then again, I don’t want to be alone again…

“I d-don’t… I don’t know how to feel better anymore. There used to be things that made me feel better, but they haven’t been doing anything for me lately. If I can’t see Dok-dok I just want to go back to bed.”

He covers his face from you as he begins to cry in earnest, pulling the pillow back over his head.

“Anti says I don’t want to see him but I do. I can hear him crying for me sometimes. And all Anti does is shout and then come hold me like nothing’s w-wrong.”

Anonymous asked: Trick have you been able to speak with anyone besides Anti since Norway?

“Mmhh, I don’t know. He’s scared for me, won’t let anybody else look after me. The lady on the airplane asked me what kind of soda I wanted. I think that was the last time I talked to anyone other than him.”

He sniffles and takes deep breaths, trying to calm down again.

“Fuck, look at me, so pathetic… ugh, why are these my hands? Why is this my body, what the hell? It’s kind of nice having so much time with Anti, though. Or it w-was really, really nice at first. Now he’s sort of starting to scare me, and I would really like to see the sky again, and I’m s-starting to see why Dap was so - why he - ”

Trick struggles to breathe, putting a hand over his heart.

“I don’t know how he stayed in one room for months on end! Without anybody even asking for him outside his room! Maybe I should try to be more like him, and play spoiled brat so Anti st-stops yelling. Ugh, I can’t s-s-speak today, ugh.”

Anonymous asked: We’ll do our best to convince him, Trick, just hang tight we’ll figure something out, alright? You’ve been very strong and we’re all so proud of you!

“Aww.”

Trick actually giggles a little, trying to clean his face up.

“Thanks, you’re so sweet, wow. But, hey, if it comes down to Anti yelling at you or yelling at me, he’s my big brother, I’m the one who should know how to handle him. You don’t deserve his anger like I do. Okay?”

Anonymous asked: Dok is there anything you want us to tell Trick for you? Something that might make him smile?

Switched up Dok and Trick on accident.

Trick’s face falls slightly.

“I don’t know. Is he angry at me? I think he got in a lot of trouble for what I did. I was so stupid, I… I just want him to know I didn’t do it because he f-failed me at all. I think I just - well - snapped.

“Didn’t even feel like it was me doing it, anyway.”

His voice is trailing away, his eyes fixed blankly at the wall.

“Just watching my hands reach for the bottle. And I couldn’t make myself scream to wake him up. Maybe he’s better off without a screw-up like me. Dapper will be a good twin for him, don’t you think? They get along so well. And then, well, there’d be two perfect matches, and Anti wouldn’t miss me, maybe just teach someone else to use the sniper. Yeah. They’d be okay without me.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, do you ever get to see Trick anymore? He Keeps asking for you.

Back in the kitchen, Red and Blue have made it home, and Dok is helping Dapper towards the right room on the hallway, lying his little brother down on the one mattress in their shared room, where a camera on the windowsill flickers to life. Dap is a cold white color, his eyes closed before he hit the bed, but Doktor is watching over him now, carefully wiping a cool wet cloth over his sweaty forehead.

He looks calmer with Dap there. He’s wiped all the redness and tears away from his face, probably before the others made it home, and when he speaks, his voice is calm.

“No. I’m not allowed to see him now. Not even to speak with him through the door. He’s not usually awake to talk anyway. But nothing I can do about it now. You must have distracted Anti, huh? If you had not, he would already have been out here, shouting about these silver eyes.”

Dapper’s guilty eyes flicker open, shining cool in the warm afternoon light.

“It’s okay,” promises Doktor, and Dapper closes his eyes again, trusting. “He’ll be out to talk about it later, I expect, but we’ll figure it out. Get some rest, my friend.”

Anonymous asked: No, he misses you, Dok. He wants you more than anyone right now. You're his twin. You're important to him.

My bad, I answered this for Trick. Here’s what he would say.

“Oh. Yeah?”

Trick brightens slightly. “He misses me? I hope not too much. I hate to hear him crying so much. I don’t think he knows I can hear him. He always waits til the others are gone, so only Anti and I ever hear. Oh, oh, I would really like to see him again.”

Here’s Doktor’s:

Doktor’s eyes widen slightly, his face clearing of some of its stoicism. He checks to make sure that Dapper’s eyes are closed and then he lets himself scoot forward, a little hope in his eyes.

“R-really? Did he say that? I miss him too! Oh, shit, I’m so glad he’s not angry with me, Anti told me he didn’t want to see me anymore!”

Anonymous asked: Sweetheart, you haven’t done anything wrong. Sometimes big brothers are jerks and get unreasonably upset when they don’t understand how to act like a decent human being. You being you and having feelings does not make you any sort of liability. In fact, facing them makes you ten times stronger than you already are. It’s alright to be sad anyways, being sad is valid! We would gladly take the heat for you at any time.

Trick tilts his head slightly, mulling it over.

“Yeah… yeah, maybe. I think I would trust my feelings better if I knew they weren’t screwed up by my goddamn snap.”

He laughs a little, twisting his hands anxiously.

“I feel like - I feel - I feel like I can’t trust myself anymore. I’m glad Anti’s watching me so close. It feels a little suffocating, but that’s okay. I’m alive, right? And I should be glad to be.

“Thank you for saying that. I wish this would stop, but it won’t, so… I guess I just have to try and believe you. For as long as I can.”

spicydanhowell asked: Trick, are you getting your name confused with Dok's?

Oh, whoops, haha, my bad, not Trick’s. Let me fix that, we’re talking a lot to Dok about Trick and a lot to Trick about Dok. Thanks.

I’m going to leave this note in here too just in case there’s anything I confused and didn’t notice to fix.

spicydanhowell asked: trick probably just needs to ride it out, anti. is he even on medication? that seems like step one. just keep him safe and comfortable. this could take a long time. in the real world he'd be in a therapy program or in a hospital, and those sort of things last weeks or months. you can't rush this shit. just keep him as comfortable as possible

Doktor is pulling Dapper’s dress shirt open to get a look at his injury, his patient hands working carefully, steadily. Dapper is quiet as can be, half asleep even as Doktor bares his skin. The trust between the two of them is deep.

“Trick’s on… ugh, I think Anti changed it again. Maybe he’s still on the antidepressants, but maybe Anti stopped when they didn’t help as much as he wanted them to. I was so stupid. He asked me for tranqs and I didn’t realize he wanted them for Trick, didn’t even think twice. Now he’s knocking my twin out cold every time his distress is too much for Anti to handle. I think he gives him the sleeping medicine I used to take, too. He likes the idea of medicine, but when the results aren’t good enough, he doesn’t have the patience to keep making sure Trick takes them.”

Doktor takes a deep breath and lets it out again, clenching and unclenching his fist. “It’s fine. It’s okay.”

“I wish I could have given to him to a hospital instead of Anti,” he adds softly. “I know I shouldn’t. I know I need to trust him to take care of him. But it’s difficult.”

He turns Dapper slightly onto his side and unwinds his bandages. A clean, struggling-to-scab stab wound pierces his brother’s ribs like a drop of blood on scope sample disk.

“It’s difficult,” repeats Doktor lowly, staring at the wound. “It’s difficult.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, I think Dok wants to tell you he doesn't blame you for what happened, and he wants you to focus on getting better. It's hard for him to be away from you because he loves you, but I bet you could make him feel better by eating the food he made you. Think how it would make him smile if Anti gave him back an empty plate, knowing he got to help you in a small way by cooking for you!

Trick lifts his head up slightly.

“Did he make this?”

For a while, he stares down at the plate. Good white rice and eggs with meat and onions, everything nicely fried.

He hasn’t had a lot of luck eating lately. He’s either not hungry or shoving food into his face so fast Anti has to stop him from choking himself. Often at night he’s ill, waking up from nightmares and finding, at his side, a master instead of a friend.

“You’ll tell him I ate it all?”

He leans down to pick up the little plastic fork, and starts taking small bites of his eggs.

Anonymous asked: Without even asking we could tell you how much Dok loves you. There is no one on earth that could convince him to be upset with you or hate you. He’s just sad for the same reason you are, he misses you. And that should show you just how important you are. Did you know dapper mentioned you? Said how he was happy y’all were friends now and hoped you were okay? Red and blue too? They’re all asking for you. You are so important Chase, don’t let Anti convince you otherwise.

Trick’s adding extra salt to his eggs now, sniffling over his plate.

“Y-yeah? I’d like to see them all again. I miss - I miss - I miss everybody.”

He wipes at his eyes.

“They’d miss me if I left, I guess.”

Anonymous asked: I think you’re right in saying that, Dok. Is there anything that we can do to help right now?

“Just…”

Doktor sighs and rubs at his face, sitting down at Dapper’s side. A warm, sleepy hand comes to rest on his back, weak but soothing.

“Just tell me if he does anything dangerous, okay?”

“I think some dinner would help,” prescribes a voice from the doorway, as Blue’s torn-up pants appear in your viewpoint. Doktor turns to give him a weary smile and Blue comes to his side, placing a plate of the specially fried eggs and rice beside Dapper, and another in Doktor’s hands.

“Blue, I can’t eat - ”

“There’s no ham in that one,” promises Blue, smiling at him. He pauses to let Doktor put a bite in his mouth and then presses close to his little brother, setting his head on his shoulder and wrapping one arm around him, while his spare hand finds Dapper’s and clutches it tight, rubbing his thumb warmly across his fingers.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, rubbing Doktor’s side. If he could, he would pour comfort into the both of them in the form of warm, healthy magic, and fill them up with light and safety. But he has his orders, and this is all he can do, so he will do it gladly. “You’re okay, we’re okay. We’ll figure it out soon enough. Trust me.”

Doktor lets his head sink against Blue’s, just a little, taking another bite of his eggs. The low evening light casts them in shades of gold and red and purple, and you see Red come to stand in the doorway, his body blocking the entrance, his head turned towards the room at the end of the hall, guarding his family in the twilight quietude, watching the sun go down.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How are you coping, Dok? You can't just bottle it up.

“Yeah.” Blue rubs warmly at his ribs. “Can’t keep any secrets from us. Another rough day?”

Exhausted, Doktor nods slowly against his shoulder.

“Well, you got through it,” murmurs Blue.

“Not quite yet.”

“Come on, what’s going to happen?”

“You’re going to be in trouble for the silver eyes,” answers Dok grimly.

Blue sighs. “Okay, well, what I meant was nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“I’d rather you two be safe than me,” answers Dok miserably.

“Hey! That’s our job, not yours. Don’t give me that self-sacrificial bullshit. You let big brothers handle it, do you understand?”

“Yes,” mumbles Dok, eyes downcast.

“Yes?”

“Yes, Blue,” he resigns himself, sinking down beside Dapper. Blue rubs his back.

Anonymous asked: Just one step at a time, Trick. We’ll be here for you the whole way.

“One step at a time,” he mumbles, putting another forkful in his mouth. “One bite at a time. Actually, this is pretty good, you know? Mh, I hope tonight is quiet. I feel a little better, just shaky.”

Anonymous asked: Alright, Dok, is there anyway that you can prove yourself to Anti? It seems the only way to get Trick out of that room is you convincing Anti that you’re a suitable protector. Is there any information that you can give us that we can use to convince him on your behalf or is there anything that you can do now to gain back Anti’s favor? Remember this is for Trick, alright? Just do your best and we’ll workout the rest. Hopefully.

“Oh, yes, we hope so! Right, Blue?”

Blue’s eyes are worried. He tries not to let his smile flicker. “Yeah, we have a gameplan, right?”

“I just have to be a good big brother to Dapper.”

“Yes, keep a good eye on him.”

“And be good. Do what you and Red and Anti tell me. Be quieter in the house. And - and - anything else you can think of. Make sure the people around here are happy with us, because I have to be useful, or we won’t be safe.”

The stress makes him shake a little, but he’s a force of nature when he’s determined, and fuck, but he wants his twin back. Blue brushes hair out of his face, biting his lip.

“Yeah, um. Just add taking care of yourself to that list too, okay?”

“Mmhh.” Dok’s eyes are already far away, daydreaming. “Oh - sure, yes, sir, whatever you say.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, while the others are great, no one is going to get through to Trick like Dok will. Even try to mimic him to see how Trick responds.

“Hmm, mimicking Dok.”

Anti pauses, thinking. His eyes are a vivid snake’s green.

“Maybe… I could do that easy enough, it’s just being loud and pushy and stern, mostly. Level-headed most of the time, kind of angry, kind of bitter. Maybe that would help him feel more at home.”

He sighs and closes his computer. “I should go deal with the others. I’ll have to change my plans for the night if they don’t have a good reason for that reversal Dap had to pull. Fuck, his magic smells so strong. I’m fucking suffocating.”

Anonymous asked: What does his magic smell like?

“Well, that’s the strange thing,” murmurs Anti, sitting up. Sharpened ears perk slightly as he listens, his nostrils flaring and his pupils thin. “Dapper is… well, I don’t know. Dapper’s Dapper. Old shit, I guess, and blood, and a little… it’s a smell, okay, how do you want me to describe it? ‘What does his magic smell like,’ is this a fucking scratch and sniff? But something’s off with him tonight, I almost think. Something in the air kind of like the ocean or trees or some shit.

“Why would his magic be different? Unless of course it - ”

Anti pauses, stiffening.

Suddenly he is on his feet.

Anonymous asked: Unless what, Anti? What does it mean?

“Less it’s not his magic.” Anti’s eyes are too bright. There is a fang piercing through his bottom lip. “And I know I told that stupid cat to stop playing those kinds of dangerous little games.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Uh oh, Dap? Blue? Anti's on the move and you guys are in trouble.

Blue swears and gets to his feet, pushing Doktor down onto the mattress when he tries to rise and stalking towards Red, who falls immediately into stride beside him to stand in the hall, shutting Dok and Dapper’s door behind them. They exchange glances, just for a moment, and see in each other’s eyes everything they need to make their backs straighten and their mouths fall calm, turned towards each other in a resignation that has become, by virtue of the little brothers in the room behind them, a sacrifice. They know the plan without speaking, Blue sees it in Red’s eyes - we take his rage together, you try to reason with him, and I am the body between his and theirs.

Anonymous asked: Uhhhh guys heads up! Anti is headed for Dapper!

Anti’s door bursts open and his figure appears in the door, shadowed in computer errors and color glitches as he blurs his way forward in a spasm of coding. His body never seems to move, but then he is before them, halfway incorporeal in the hall, but he does not turn to the door for the younger boys, he does not turn - he grabs his Blue by the throat, and then, before Red can cry out, he is slamming him back against the wall, his eyes black with hatred.

“What the hell did you do?” he shrieks, slamming Blue’s head back, ignoring Red rushing forward beside him, trying to catch his eye so he can beg on his twin’s behalf, panicked. “I can smell something on you! I can smell power on you! You traitorous little bitch, I’ve let you roam like a wild dog and treated you like a show dog and this is how you repay me? What were you casting for? What did you do? I have to hide your fucking signal now! What did you do?”

“Nothing!” wails Blue, grabbing at his master’s hands. He does not claw, only clutches tight to his wrists, his eyes desperate and full of tears.

“He didn’t do anything, Anti, I’ve been with him the whole day!”

“I can smell something that is not Dapper, I can smell it on you! You did something! Even if it was on accident!”

“No, no, no, I can’t help it that’s it welling up inside me but I - ” Blue sucks in a desperate gasp, beginning to writhe under Anti’s hands. “I didn’t give way to it!”

“He didn’t do anything, Anti, I swear! Please, master, let him go!”

But unfortunately they’re not making a very good case for themselves.

The hands on Anti’s wrist glow faintly blue.

Anonymous asked: Blue what did you do?

Growling low, low in his throat, Anti drops Blue to the floor. He collapses and begins coughing hard, clutching at his throat. Red moves to fall down beside him, but Anti grabs him by the back of his shirt and shoves him away again, staring down at Blue with his teeth gritted hard enough that Red can hear his bones shifting.

“I swear, I swear, I swear,” whimpers Blue, curling in on himself to hide his hands against his stomach. All these weeks, he has never been afraid of Anti for his own sake, but now some horrible memory is rearing its head inside of him, and he looks down to see his glowing hands shaking. “I didn’t do anything, Anti, please, it burns at me but I don’t… I don’t mean to do anything, I let none of it touch the rest of the world, I hold it right here in my bones, it isn’t anywhere, it isn’t anything… I keep it, I keep it in my chest, I haven’t done anything, not one spell, like I promised you, master…”

Anti is panting harshly through his teeth. He closes his eyes and reaches up to dig his fingers into his hair, seething, snarling, shaking ever so slightly where he stands.

nikkilbook asked: We can vouch for him. The closest he came to magic was some glowy hands when Dapper passed out from the heat and the pain in his chest. But he didn’t let it out, just like he and Red said.

“You’re doing something,” hisses Anti, drawing away. “You’re - you must be. You’re causing problems. Don’t you understand I’ll have to hide you if you don’t bury it deeper? I can’t - ugh! Fucking hell, Blue!”

He reaches down to grab his chin, tilting his head up and lifting up an eyelid with his thumb, examining Blue’s eyes for any sign of casting.

“I told you to keep it buried, I told you, I told you to forget it even exists within you…”

“I’m trying, I’m trying, I swear…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is there a possibility you could have let something slip, Blue?

“I - I - ” Blue stares desperately up at Anti, his mouth hanging slightly open as tears spring to his face.

“Sometimes his hands wisp but that’s all,” Red leaps to assure, panting rapidly.

“Anti, Anti,” begs Blue, tears running down his face, and Anti, infuriated by the sight of yet another one of his puppets breaking down, turns away from him, digging harder at his hair. “I’m trying so hard, Anti, I am, but it burns me, you don’t understand, I need a way to let some of this free. I’m a kettle boiling over, Anti, a cup filling up, I can’t help that it overflows, I - ”

“Don’t fucking say that!” screams Anti, and before Blue even registers the hand coming at him he is crashing back against the wall, yelping from the bruise exploding across his cheek. He hears Red cry out and then his brother’s body is before his own, between him and Anti, grabbing at the demon’s shoulder and crying out for him to stop, to wait, at least, to just talk about this for a moment, please!

Anti’s shaking his head hard, fury steaming from his mouth, but he grants Red his wish and turns, instead of to Blue, towards Dok and Dapper’s room, striding in even as Red cries out.

“Red, stop him, stop him,” moans Blue, staggering back up to his knees and brushing his twin’s concern away. It’s just a bruise. He’s had worse. Doesn’t know why it stings so much coming from Anti, but it’s no matter. “Monochroma is hurt, don’t let him - Anti, please, don’t grab him like that!”

Dapper whistles shrilly as he is pulled up by the hair, clawing wildly at Anti’s hands and reaching out for Doktor intermittently.

nikkilbook asked: Hey Anti. Here’s an idea. All your tech must draw in an obscene amount of power, and I bet the weird surges from your glitching don’t really help this whole in cognito thing you go going on. Why don’t you try burying THAT, forget that power even exists, cut it out of yourself like some kind of sparky appendix. Can’t be that hard.

“I know how to hide my own fucking power! I know how to hide my signal from everyone, from everything! And Dapper’s too, though it took me months to learn, months and months to learn, and this little brat still thinks he gets to run around the city changing time however he wants to!”

Dapper whistles, staggering to his feet, clutching at the bandages around his bare chest. “No, no, no!” cries his free hand.

“But I had to learn to hide him, because I need his power! But you!”

He whirls on Blue.

There is a light in his eyes like someone losing his mind, and Blue, for all his bravado, finds himself shrinking slightly back towards Red, who steps forward yet again, reaching for the youngest.

“Anti, please,” he whispers.

“I don’t need your fucking spells and bullshit tricks! I need you to be Red’s little sidekick, their little caretaker, and my little slave! And now you’re endangering the rest of my family, after I took you in and gave you back to your brothers, took care of you like a privileged pet and trusted you with everyone else to look after?”

“I’m doing my best,” wails Blue, reaching out for Dapper. “Anti, put him down!”

“I can’t hide all three of us!” screams Anti. “Don’t you fucking understand? I can’t hide this much power!”

nikkilbook asked: Then let them go..

“Are you stupid?” snaps Anti, panting, lowering Dapper slightly back down towards the ground. “You think I’d ever do that? What, do you boys want that? For me to split all of you up and send you away from each other? For you to have to try and hide on your own, and live like Blue used to, like a rat on the streets? No, we… we have to stay together, don’t we?”

He drops Dapper, his face beginning to look more grey than white. Doktor rushes forward to grab his little brother, pulling him back towards the mattress, hiding him against his chest.

“Anti’s right.”

Blue looks up at his big brother, eyes wide.

“He’s the only one who has any hope of keeping us safe from the first master and the others who stalk us. Besides, we’re family.

“We have to stay together,” repeats Red hoarsely, and when Anti looks up again to meet his gaze, there is gratitude in his black, endless eyes.

Anonymous asked: In summation, "suppress your emotions! We can't let people know we F E E L !!"

“Can’t let people know we’re a family of Harry Potter characters,” mumbles Doktor, his eyes flashing. Dapper is huddled against his chest, trembling hard but still rubbing a soothing hand along Doktor’s arm.

Anonymous asked: If Blue can't control his power entirely, maybe try to utilize it in someway. Surely you can find a use for another brand of magic? I get you'll have to invest some time and your own power into masking it, but in the end there's got to be a benefit to that, right? Last thing you need is Blue melting down on top of everything else.

“I - but you don’t understand, I - ” Anti is coming forward towards Blue again, and Red flinches, biting his lip as he tries to decide whether he should put himself between them again, but Anti only bends down to touch Blue’s cheek, staring his newest pet in the eyes. “It’s not like I have a power to hide them, I use electrical signals, I use my computers, I disrupt everything Dap and I send off. And by now I recognize his signals and his energy so well, and I have magnets and conductors and codes that took weeks made just for him, and I monitor both of us constantly but Blue, I - Blue I don’t know anything about, and I don’t - he’s more erratic, you know, he’s… you’re…”

“I’m sorry,” whispers Blue.

Anti draws his hand away from his face and rubs his own instead, tired out of his mind.

“Blue, you have to keep it hidden better.”

“I - I - okay, Anti. Yes, Anti. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just… let’s talk about this later. I’ll think about this later. I’m so - ”

He grits his teeth, glancing over at Dapper. Truth is, he slept better with him beside him. Maybe he could put him next to Trick tonight, except -

“Fucking hell,” sighs Anti. “I’ve still got to deal with you. Alright, little brat. You better have a good reason you were making the world spin wrong today.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, you all need to calm down. I'm sure you all being at each other's throats is not helping with hiding ANY power.

“Yeah, Anti,” Blue beseeches, rising to his knees. “Please just be gentle with him, I’m sure he had a good reason.”

Dapper has yet to look up at Anti in answer.

Despite Anti’s question.

Like he’s ignoring it.

Oh, hell, oh, hell, oh, hell, chants Blue’s mind. He chews rapidly on his lip and exchanges looks with Red, beginning to feel panicked.

“Dapper,” he calls. “You answer your brother like a good boy.”

Not today, Dap. Don’t get in any more trouble. You can’t take it, you tiny hurricane. Just be good, please!

Anonymous asked: Dapper, hiding from something doesn't mean it's not there. You got hurt, you made a mistake, just say something, the waters testy as it is.

Dapper’s breath is hot against Doktor’s shoulder. His eyes are tightly closed and his teeth are gritted. He glances at the message and at the light outside his window, and then closes his eyes tight again.

Anti’s eyes narrow on Doktor. His throat closes.

“Dap,” urges Dok, pushing slightly against him. “Come on, you must talk to your big brother. Will be okay, just answer the question.”

Dapper buries. Dapper buries.

Doktor presses their faces as close as he can, knocking their noses together, whispering as small as he can. His voice is desperate.

“Dapper, if you are not good for Anti, we will never get Trick back.”

And Dapper knows he doesn’t mean to say that he’s trying to exchange his training wheels for the full model he used to have, doesn’t mean to say he’s trying to get an A+ on his little-brother-caretaking test so he can get the real one back, doesn’t mean to say he’d rather Dapper be locked up in that one little room, petted and puppied for months on end, instead of Trick, but -

Anti really is the only one who wants him. He may as well try to help Dok get his Trick back.

White-faced and bitter, Dapper turns his face towards Anti, and frees his hands.

“I’m sorry, Anti,” he says. “I walked too far down an alleyway and a dog jumped out and scared me badly. I turned back without thinking. I was a coward. Next time I will drive it away.”

Anti draws back slightly.

Assessing.

florenceisfalling asked: anti, isn't this a good thing? better than him letting animals touch him or get near him, right?

“Mm-hm, mm-hm,” murmurs Anti, chewing on his lip. “If he’s telling the truth.”

Dapper does not pale. Dapper does not tremble. Dapper does not look away.

Dapper looks his master in the eyes and lies.

nikkilbook asked: It was our fault. You left us alone with them for twenty minutes and we did what we did best. We poked and we prodded until the boys broke, and Dapper put them back together again. Better this mess than that one.

“Broke? My Red, my Blue? My strong boys?” He glances back at the twins, standing in the doorway. “No, no… I don’t think that’s right.”

Anonymous asked: Oh shoot, Dap, you actually told him the truth! It's okay, Anti will understand. It's good you did tell him what happened. And next time you'll know.

“Hm, hm,” says Anti, beginning to circle the mattress. Dok avoids his gaze, whitening as he comes closer, holding Dapper to his chest. The color of Dapper’s eyes is less like starlight and more like steel. “Yes, yes, next time you’ll know… you know better than to lie to Anti, don’t you, Dapper?”

“Yes, Anti.”

Anti’s eyes change from black to a very vivid green.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, it was an honest to goodness mistake on Lil' Dap's part. He isn't reckless with his abilities, is he?

“Lil Dap,” repeats Anti, and a smile fills up his face. “Haha! Aww, you are my little Dapper, aren’t you? Baby, puppy? Tiny little boy, cute little mute baby.”

Dapper is digging his nails into the palms of his hands.

cest-mellow asked: anti you can’t blame him for getting scared, it honestly came from no where, scared me too! i’m just glad he didn’t get bit, feral dogs can have rabies you know

“Ugh, yuck,” hisses Anti, drawing slightly back, wiping his hands on his pants. “This city is fucking filthy. I hate those fucking dogs everywhere. With the skin and the bugs in their - ugh.”

He shakes his head and snarls, turning away.

“Little brother,” says Red gently. “Maybe we should do this later.”

“No,” snaps Anti, grabbing at his hair again. “Shut up. Go to your room and finish eating your dinner. I’ll need you again tomorrow and the two of you at least must be good, or I’ll throw all of you little bastards out. Now.”

Red and Blue exchange glances but not protests. Red pulls Blue away. His twin’s eyes are fixed on Dapper’s.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Would you be able to tell if he's lying, Anti?

“I can tell everything about him,” whispers Anti.

His voice is an echo. It drips from the ceilings. It swims through the air. It bounces from wall to wall, disembodied.

“I know the person he was and the person I made him into. I know every valley of his brain, know the pattern of his thoughts, know the taste of his fear. Know the ways he comes and goes, sane some days, a little psycho the next.”

Doktor’s breath hitches slightly and he turns away, afraid to show anger to Anti.

Dapper’s too tired to be hurt. He stares up at Anti, blank-faced.

“You always have been a good little liar,” says Anti distantly, coming to stand right above him. “But not to me, child. Not to me.”

Anonymous asked: Wait Anti a while back when you said you like own time and forced it to kiss you...ew.... were you referring to dapper?? and why do you even do that in the first place that's messed up dude just sayin

Anti crouches down beside Dapper and Doktor.

His youngest puppet is pressed back against the doctor. Someone else might mistake it for hiding, but Dapper is no longer holding Dok for the comfort. His body is in front of his brother’s. He protects Doktor. He protects Doktor from Anti.

For a long time, Anti just looks him in the eyes.

“Yes, I was referring to Dapper,” he says. “Of course I was. My little time traveler. Yes, I’ve made time kiss me. I’ve made it sing my praises and give up everything it used to love for my sake. It didn’t have much of a choice, but that is not what matters. What matters now is that it belongs to me.”

Anti sets his hand on Doktor’s thigh and leans close over the both of them, his chest flush with Dapper’s. The youngest brother can no longer bear the weight of his green-eyed gaze; flushing, Dapper turns away, avoiding the eyes of the snake.

“Doesn’t it, Jay?”

Something visceral and agonizing rises up like acid in Dapper’s throat, and in that moment he is so close to remembering everything that hovers around the edges of his time-travel-hazed mind, so close to putting back a piece of himself that he’s been trying to find for weeks now, so close to being a person who does not belong to Anti.

Fuck, does it hurt.

Memories of his lips pressed to Anti’s cheeks, his hands teasing and begging for affection, being cradled like a child to Anti’s chest, hiding behind his big brother for comfort, letting him cut into him and tie him to his bed post, a raven he loved being shoved out a window, and a half-dozen faces only vaguely familiar, stained bright in red - only some of the people Anti told him to kill, and fuck, but his knife was glad to have something to do other than sitting in that room.

“Give me a kiss,” says Anti. “And I’ll put this behind me.”

His voice is sugar-sweet and Dapper could gag. He knows he’s being mocked. He knows that Anti can feel the dissatisfaction, the revolution, sitting painful in his chest. But if he can be convinced to obey despite a little discontent, despite a little doubt, Anti will believe that he is not a threat, and Dapper can go back to playing puppet, and maybe it won’t hurt so much.

Doktor is shaking against him.

Anti grabs his chin in his hands, tight enough to bruise, and he yanks Dapper’s head back towards him, forcing him to meet endless green eyes.

“Give me a kiss,” says Anti, smiling so fucking wide, so fucking cruel, and something in Jameson’s chest hates him. “Give me a kiss and you can have a quiet night with your Dok-Dok, and nobody has to get h - ”

Dapper strikes him, hard, in the face.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Jameson jackson you absolute savage

Anti reels away from his youngest puppet, halfway tumbling off Doktor’s lap, blood dripping down his nose as his form flickers. Doktor screams aloud, shocked, and grabs Dapper tighter to his chest, pinning his arms down as best he can.

His little brother is laughing like a maniac, without sound, without joy.

Anonymous asked: FUCK. DAP REVERSE. REVERSEREVERSEREVERSE

“No,” giggles Dapper, squirming in Doktor’s grip. “I don’t think I will.”

“You fucking bitch!” screams Anti, and a hunting knife appears in his hands, thicker than his arm is wide. “I’m going to kill you!”

Doktor cries out and curls his body over Dapper’s, panic exploding through his chest. “No, Anti, please, please! Blue! Red! Somebody, please!”

“Why the hell are you screaming for them? Like they can save you from me? Stupid little brat!”

Anti grabs Doktor’s shirt and drags him off Dapper’s body, digging his fingers into Dapper’s hair and pulling him to his feet. Dapper screams by drawing air in, clawing at his hair as Anti pulls him up for the second time tonight, this time pressing a blade into the center of his collarbone, drawing a stream of blood.

Anonymous asked: Oh god Anti you broke him

“He’s always been goddamn broken!” shrieks Anti, throwing him onto the mattress and giving Dapper back the blow that he gave him twice as hard, slapping him so that his handprint appears on his cheek. Dapper whistles shrilly and turns to his side, but he will not turn back, he will not turn back. Wouldn’t fix anything anyway, he’d just be in more trouble for the power surge.

And anyway, he fucking deserves it.

“Kill me, then, fucking coward!” signs Dapper, and Anti grabs him again and throws him back onto his back. “Think I’m scared to die, master?”

“Traitorous little weapon! You think I won’t kill you? Is that what you think? You think I can’t make you beg me to take you back into my bed again, huh? If I think for a moment that you are past saving, if you belong to that stupid fucking boy again, I will fucking crucify you and make your brothers laugh at the sight of you nailed to our doorway. Do you understand me?”

“I understand that you’re a bitch.”

And then he’s being struck, again, and again, and again, and the wound on his side is weeping, and so are his blueing eyes, as he comes to understand that everything he has denied about the brother he adores is true - Anti is cruel, Anti keeps him captive, Anti would kill him to prevent him from ever being free.

“I served you well,” sob his hands, though he doubts Anti is reading. “I’ve always served you well. You are the one who took your love away, master. You are the one who betrayed me.”

“Anti!” screams Doktor, by now in full-blown hysterics. “Anti, Anti! Please, oh, God, Sh’ma, Sh’ma! Red! Blue! Trickshot, help me!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, you gotta move and get the two of you out of there.

“I have to - I have to stop this, I can’t get him out, I can’t - what can I say to - ”

Realization hits Doktor like a train and he acts without further thought. In a second he is clinging to Anti’s shoulders as his brother beats Dapper’s blood into the mattress, crying out. “Anti, it’s not him! It’s not him, it’s not his fault! It’s one of his episodes, he’s psychotic, he can’t help it! He might even think you’re his old master!”

Anti’s hand is pressing Dapper down by the throat. He does not look up at Doktor. His pupils are blown, his face frigid white, his mouth shaking. But his pressure, at least a little, relinquishes.

“One - one of his episodes? A snap, you mean?”

Dapper trembles beneath his hands, his blue eyes hurting.

Anonymous asked: Oh shit. Dapper I hope you know what you’re doing!

Dapper stares up at Doktor and Anti, towering over him.

He whines and closes his eyes and sinks back down into the mattress, tears sliding down his cheeks. His anger is cold and it stings at his face; his hurt is deeper, burrowing down far into his chest. His master really does hate him, and he’ll never be or even remember the person that he used to be, and Doktor - Doktor - Doktor shouldn’t use his psychosis like that, like it makes his decisions any less his own. It’s not his to use as a lie. Dapper’s head is clearer than it’s been in months. The only thing fogging his head now is grief and this great wall of power that has so long blocked out chunks of memories and control. He’s beginning to understand where Trick was coming from more and more with every day.

He wishes he were here now. That’s who he wants, Trick, who hated it when Dapper was treated like a puppy just as much as Dapper does. Trick who loved him as an equal but protected him like a brother.

No, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

But he doesn’t want to get hit anymore. So he closes his eyes, and turns his face from Anti’s, and lets Doktor speak on his behalf, because no one is listening anyway.

“But he’s not hallucinating or thinking we’re someone we’re not,” Anti is protesting, glancing between Dapper and Doktor.

“Well, it’s hard to be sure,” coaxes Doktor, sounding professional, though his voice trembles minutely. Maybe Dap isn’t the only good liar around. “And you know sometimes it’s not hallucinations, sometimes with him it’s paranoia. Yes? You remember when he was so convinced Red would hurt him, the last time.”

“He nearly killed him,” mumbles Anti, brushing disarrayed hair from his eyes.

“But we got him back on his medication and helped him get down from the snap, and he was back to being okay again. Trusting you and everything, you know. Most likely he is just psychotic again. It’s not his fault, really. Besides, Anti, look, look, this wound in his side - you will hurt him more badly than you intend, master.”

Anti draws back from Dapper a little more, his eyes fading to blue. “But he’s on his medication,” he protests, and suddenly his voice is weak as a blade of grass. “You told me you were making sure he takes it. You - how can I - if both of them are broken like this - ”

“Maybe we can try something new,” suggests Doktor, trying to be reassuring. He dares to rub his hand over Anti’s shoulder, and Anti, looking distinctly frazzled, leans slightly back into the warmth of his palm.

Doktor puts his head against Anti’s shoulder. The pressure is warm and secure.

“Can’t look after everyone,” admits Anti, in a whisper.

“I’ll help you,” promises Doktor, just as soft, and the earnestness in his voice is almost painfully raw. “If you just let me, Anti. Just let me see - ”

“No,” Anti cuts him off, his voice clearer, and Doktor sinks wearily against his back, sighing. “No. Maybe someday. But not now. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk any of this. I finally have everything I want. I’m going to keep it.”

One of his hands resumes a little pressure on Dapper’s throat. The other is running through his hair, meant to be soothing.

“Poor boy, breaking down again,” mumbles Anti. “I’ll put it right again. I’ll fix you again. I’ve done it more than once now, haven’t I? Stupid boy. It’s okay. We’ll fix you.”

Anonymous asked: Do it Anti, and you lose your most valuable weapon. No more reversing time, no more do overs. The boys leave or die they're gone, no way to fix it. So prove you're not a coward, Anti. Carpe diem, glitch bitch.

Anti gets to his feet, glancing at the camera for a moment, his eyes skimming the message. He turns to look between the temporary set of twins - Doktor rushes forward to try and tend to his little brother, rubbing at Dapper’s shoulders.

Anti crouches back down again, just for a second, and he pulls Dapper’s face towards him, and looks him in the eyes.

“I want you to know something,” he says, his voice very, very low. Dapper shakes beneath his grip.

“You are a very powerful child. You are my favorite weapon and I benefit greatly from your help. That is all true.

“But if I ever think for a single moment that I cannot save you from - from - ”

Anti doesn’t know what to call him.

“The boy,” offers Dapper softly. “The boy you are afraid of.”

It pauses Anti for a moment.

And then he leans forward again.

“I am afraid of him enough that if I ever believed he was taking you from me, I will kill you.”

Doktor is clinging to Dapper’s shoulder. There are tears running down his face.

“I will kill you before I let him turn you against me. That is also true. Do. You. Understand?”

Dapper’s had enough.

Dapper’s had enough for one night.

“Yes, Anti.”

“Good.”

Anonymous asked: Dok whatever happens please do not leave Dapper’s side

“Aww, that’s sweet,” purrs Anti, stepping back. “You want to stay by your little brother, Dok, is that it? Huh?”

“Y-yes, Anti, I need to clean him up.”

“You do, yes. And start thinking about his medication, I want something to fix this by tomorrow. But after you’ve got him all patched up, you’ll hand him over to me, and then his twin has to be punished.”

Doktor pauses, looking up at Anti. “His twin?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought… Dapper didn’t have…”

Anti stares at him, impatient with his stupidity. Something cold rushes over Doktor’s chest.

“Is Trick your twin right now?” asks Anti, like he’s explaining something to a five-year-old.

“No, Anti,” whispers Doktor.

“Who did I give you to look after?”

“Dapper, Anti.”

“And when you fail to look after your twin, and your twin does something stupid and gets in trouble, how do we correct things around here?”

His throat is so fucking dry.

“You punish the twin, Anti.”

“Clean him up. You can spend the night in the shed. Should have known you weren’t capable of having a twin anymore. Tonight, Dapper will stay with me and Trickshot. We’re going to play puppies again. They’re right, Trick needs someone else to be with, and it can’t be you, Dok, so we’ll go back to the way things were in the beginning, when my two littlest boys were so head-over-heels for me they could barely breathe without my permission. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Doktor can’t breathe at all.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Anti,” he wheezes, and his hands shake as he pulls the first aid kit away from its place against the wall.

Anonymous asked: What, so Dok is going to be twinless after tomorrow? It's like you're trying to fix glass with a jackhammer.

“Red was twinless for a long time. And he was fine afterwards. I can rearrange again when Trick and Dapper are behaving better.”

Anonymous asked: Anti wait, he did protect him! He stopped you from killing him! He’s cleaned up dapper and made sure that he’s as healthy as he possibly can be considering his wounds, y’know the ones YOU gave him? He can only protect him as much as he can, especially when you’re the one attacking him! If anything he’s been faithful enough to let you have your way with Dap until there was a possibility that you would have gone too far.

“He should have kept Dapper in line in the fucking first place! Everyone in this house knows that Dapper’s been slipping more and more every day, and what did Doktor do about it? Coddle him and let him roam wild while he grieved over a brother who’s still alive!”

Anti backs away, resisting the urge to kick them both.

“That’s enough. Clean him up. That’s the only thing you’re halfway good for.”

And he vanishes as though he was never there, leaving only the smell of electricity behind.

nikkilbook asked: My dudes, you can be together and AWAY FROM HIM. What does he even do? Slap you around and stab you for doing literally what he told you to do? Drive you to suicide and punish you for it? What can he give you that you can’t give each other? Dude’s a royal prick if you ask me.

“Sh, sh, please,” whispers Doktor. “We can’t just… Anti is temperamental, but we can’t just… there’s no choice, we… please, sh, sh…”

He glances over his shoulder, but Anti has vanished, and he is alone with Dapper, shaking beneath his hands, his eyes shell-shocked and grieving. He pulls the old, bloodied bandage off Dapper’s back, eliciting a low, agonized whine.

“I’m so sorry,” Dok mumbles, brushing his hands over his hair. You don’t know who he’s talking to.

Anonymous asked: Honestly though, that took a lot of gut back there to do that Dapper and I’m super proud of you. Learning to stand up for yourself is super important, and just so we’re clear, it is not a psychotic tendency.

Dapper’s bleeding mouth opens into a small smile. “Thank you,” he signs frailly, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of Dok patching his skin back together. “No, it’s not psychosis. Sometimes Anti says snap and he means psychosis, but sometimes he says snap and what he means is self-defense.”

“Dap, please,” begs Doktor. “Stop, stop talking like that.”

“What’s he going to do? Beat me again?”

“Yes,” snaps Doktor, brushing his hand over his hair. To his surprise, Dap pulls away slightly, closing his eyes.

“Angry with me?” asks Dok, in a whisper.

Dapper doesn’t answer. Tears are sliding down Dok’s cheeks.

“Like everybody else?”

At that, Dapper turns, his eyes flickering, and suddenly the grief in his brother’s eyes looks like it will consume him, and Dapper’s pain seems to vanish, replaced by fear for his Deutsch.

“I was trying to protect you,” chokes Dok, his face losing all color as the band-aid flutters out of his hands. He can no longer hold it. “I’m always - always trying to protect you and everyone, heal when I c-can - but I can’t do anything right and - I can’t - f-forgive me, I - ”

Dapper drags his aching body up and throws himself at Doktor, pulling him tight to his chest and hugging him close, close, close, and Doktor breaks down against his shoulder.

Dapper took a beating to avoid kissing Anti’s face. Now, he buries himself against Doktor and smothers his face with kisses, clutching him close, suddenly vividly aware of the fact that the two of them are, for all that Anti plays at Dapper being the smallest, exactly the same size.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” cries Doktor.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” answers Dapper. “I’m so sorry that what I did hurt you, that’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to go away from you. Maybe I can convince Anti to give me back soon?”

“No, no,” whimpers Doktor, rubbing tears from his eyes. “You must do nothing to anger him, nothing to object. Don’t worry about big brother for a moment, that’s not your duty.”

“It is my duty. Just because I’m a little younger does not make me any less your guardian. The hierarchy here is just another something Anti made up to - ”

“Sh, sh, please,” begs Doktor. “Please, for my sake, stop. Just lie down, honey. Let me take care of you, just for a moment. It may be the last time for a long time that I have the chance, and it is the only thing now that I can do for you.”

Distressed, Dapper nevertheless lies down. “I love you,” promise his hands, fixed atop his heart. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” whispers Doktor. “Whatever Anti makes you forget, do not forget that, my brother.”

cest-mellow asked: red? blue? did you hear any of that??

You find Red and Blue in their room, side-by-side and looking exhausted. Blue is hidden beneath Red’s arm, clutching at his bruising throat. They are curled around each other in the corner. Red’s eyes roam from the door to the window, from the door to the window, from the door to the window, cause these days all he does is expect an attack and protect what he can.

He meets your gaze.

“We didn’t hear anything,” he tells you lowly, clinging to Blue’s shirt. Outside the window, you can hear Doktor crying out.

Anonymous asked: What’s the shed? Is it kinda like the basement in the old house?

The shed sits just behind the house, a metallic structure more like an upside down trash and recycling unit than anything else. There isn’t a real door, just a wooden slat placed in front of a gaping hole and locked up tight when Anti doesn’t need it open. In the daytime, the metal is hot as hell, and the walls can’t be touched, and being inside it is like being baked alive. The boys try not to complain, though - the shed is a temporary place of residence, and there are people in these mountains who live in even smaller ones for their whole lives, nursing children on the dirt outside to avoid the crushing heat.

Anti leaves a camera to keep an eye on Doktor, and so you find him before you - strung up by a chain collar like he’s been hung, but low enough that the front pads of his feet can stand on the dirty ground. With the help of his arms, he can pull himself up enough to get a few deep breaths of air every few minutes.

He does not cry. His face is calm. The ground around him is littered with glue traps, and you can see mice squirming through their death throes at his feet.

“Yeah, you’re right on,” he mumbles, trying to push himself up, his calves already aching. “Seems no matter where we go, some things never change.”

Anonymous asked: Be safe, please.. -PF!H

Doktor tries to stay calm, because he knows that you’re watching. He stands strong and works to take deep, steady breaths. He will be able to stand this for some hours, as he knows from experience, but he hopes that by morning he will be let down - otherwise he may begin to suffocate.

spicydanhowell asked: uhh dok... do you ever think about suicide? i'm just wondering... you've kind of been through a lot

“Mmh,” groans Dok, straining, glad for any company, for anyone to talk to, even if he will only be able to keep it up for a few hours. “Well, everybody thinks about that sometimes, don’t they? But we have to keep living. What would happen to the others without me? What would happen to Trick? No, you don’t have to worry about that with me, you must focus on the others. Don’t worry, don’t worry. Not going to do anything like that, not anywhere other than my dreams, anyway. And even then, I don’t mean it, and it makes me cry, to see my body stretched out on the ground like that - ungh, fuck…”

He lets himself back down again. Deep breath in. Deep sigh out. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he mutters, rubbing his own shoulders like he’s hugging himself.

Anonymous asked: Great job, Anti. Are you really going to hurt your baby brother over something he can't control? He always wanted to do his best by you, and this is how you repay that love?

You find Anti, to your surprise, in the entry area, where Dok’s set up his clinic. He’s sorting through Red and Blue’s backpacks, a computer set on the table beside him. Every time he pulls out another bottle of pills or package of gauze or iodine ointment, you see a new line pop up on the screen. He’s taking inventory, apparently.

“Are we really doing this again?” he snaps, not even looking up at you. You don’t know how he read the message. “‘Oh, Anti, you’re so evil and rude and you mistreat your poor little idiots so much!’ Get over yourselves! Stop pretending I give a fuck about your opinions!

Anyway, Dapper’s been acting like a fucking brat for weeks now. Guess he can’t stand that Trick’s taken up all his time with his master, spoiled little whore. No, he’s never cared about what’s best for anybody but himself. Half the time I think he only plays nice to keep himself alive. He’s a little actor, that child. You should have seen him when I first kidnapped him. He was a slyer opponent than any of his brothers, I admit it. He could make himself seem like a naive, helpless, terrified little animal while hiding a knife behind his back at the same time… no, he won’t slip away from me now, no matter the cost…”

cest-mellow asked: anti, sometimes no matter how close doctors watch their patients medication, they can still take a random turn. one day the meds work fine and the next they don’t work, maybe dap’s body got so used to the haldol that he just needs a med change. this isn’t doktors fault, you KNOW how protective he is of his brother’s and how loyal he is to you. do you really think he’d ever do something like that, or let something like that happen, on purpose?

“And I - well, I know that,” admits Anti, grumbling, a little abashed. “But he should have taken that into account! And he’s been letting Dapper run around with Blue and Red and letting him spend most of the day wandering outside or even - ugh, I caught him chasing after some of those damn chickens that are wandering around. With the dirty little children, even. He should have been keeping a much closer eye on him, but all he can think about is Trick.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if it’s his fault or not. Dapper did something wrong, so the twin bears the punishment. It’s the most effective part of this system, you know. That’s how I finally got Red in line. He wouldn’t stop fighting me until he couldn’t bear to watch Dapper cry anymore.”

Anonymous asked: Please don’t punish dok too harshly, he really did try to take care of dapper the best he could

“Not well enough. That is all that matters.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, don’t you think you’re being a little hard on Dok? I mean he’s giving his all and he’s human, he’s bound to make mistakes but he seems to be determined to fix them. You have to remember that he’s mental sorta fellow, he likes to talk facts y’know? He’s the reason you have what you have in the first place, he basically got Marvin to come home right? He’s not a failure, we just all work differently and he might not be in the right environment to excel the way you want him to.

“I… I feel like none of them are in exactly the right environment anymore. I don’t know what changed, but it changed with that night on the beach and Trick snapping… If I can just put him back together, things will go back to being better again. But for now I can’t do anything more for Doktor. Trick and Dapper have to be my focus. Dok’s functional enough.”

Anonymous asked: anti you just really like being in control huh? you know, none of the others are going to think any less of you or "fear" you less if you let dok go. seriously they'll be so much more thankful to you if you don't hurt him. dap might be extra appreciative too?

“Mmhhh,” grumbles Anti, beginning to be agitated. “No. Rules are rules. He will still resent me even if I give his Doktor back. He would just have someone to commiserate with, to rant at. Doktor’s probably been fueling his paranoia with his useless whining for Trick all day. No wonder Dapper’s brain begin to tell him I was the enemy.” He hisses, gnawing on his lips.

Anonymous asked: "Aren't you one to talk since you and your puppets sound so unhappy all the time you have to threaten them to make them stay with you.. I hate to break it to you, but in regards to your response to my master's message you're too biased to have an opinion on how he's doing. And that's coming from me." -PF!H.

“Well, little one, then you form your own opinion, and let me know if you find anything less than the grief and the regret that I see in your precious master.”

spicydanhowell asked: you're punishing dok because he's not controlling carver.... but aren't you supposed to be controlling carver??? are you admitting that he's too much for you to handle? and then you expect /doktor/ to be able to handle him?? that really makes no sense at all. you're just pinning your own failure on someone else rather than owning your incompetence.

“That’s why I’m taking him back to my side,” replies Anti coolly. “I had hoped Dok would be able to look after somebody, but clearly not. You’re quite right. Dapper should be under my arm and no one else’s. That’s the last time I give him someone else to play with.”

Anonymous asked: okay but red isn’t dok they’re not the same person

“So you admit Doktor is weaker than Red?”

Anonymous asked: You're really keen on saying you don't care when you're going so out of your way to explain it, you know. Just saying.. -PF!H

Anti growls, shoving another handful of medicine into a cabinet with a padlock on it.

juju-on-that-yeet asked: Maybe Dapper's brain is telling him that you're the enemy because...ya know...you are. You really can't pretend you aren't, not to us.

Anti’s mouth curls up into a small, self-satisfied smile.

“Mmh… haha. Kind of funny, I almost miss the days when at least some of them knew I was worth hating. Maybe I’m too deep in my own head. What would it really matter if I lost Trick? I’d figure it out with the other four. Be a shame not to have the full set, but might be better than trying so hard to fix something so shattered.

“Yes, I guess I should remember myself a little. But I’m sure Dap’s just having a psychotic episode. Even a little world-shaker like that kid couldn’t get his head free from all the work I’ve done on him for more than a year now.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, please listen to me. You think Jack made you to be hated, and useless, and wrong. He didn't, I promise you he didn't. He made you to be awe-striking. He made you to be powerful, and alluring, and beautiful. He made you to be loved, loved so much that we would write stories for you, stories where you are happy. Draw pictures of you, make videos about you, make you known in our world. We love you so much, Anti. There has to be something in you that can return that.

Anti snickers without humor. “Ha, you’re funny… He didn’t even mean to create me. Everything that’s worthwhile about myself actually comes from - ”

He cuts himself off, his mouth thinning.

“You’re all stupid little children.”

And then he’s mocking you, his mouth in a wide smile, his eyes flashing, and he looks like Jack, he looks like Jack just to fucking taunt you -

“’Oh, Anti, we love you so much, look how we adore you, look how your mouth fills up with power every time we say your name, every time your image curves across a sketch pad or fills up the lines of a document’ - don’t you think you’re all a little obsessive? Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

And he is a boy with dark green hair and a black t-shirt, holding a long kitchen knife in one hand, his eyes blank as he lifts it towards his throat and begins to dig -

“You were afraid,” says a voice that does not come from his mouth, as he slowly slits open his own throat. “But most of all, you were thrilled, and you shouted and rejoiced, drew me and wrote my name, even fucking thirsted after me, hahaha! It was so funny, the power almost made me suffocate! And it was wonderful and warm and I had everything I ever wanted, and that was because of you, little fools, that was all because of you.”

He drops the knife suddenly and the illusion falters.

And he is himself again, panting on the floor of the clinic, hurt by his own reminiscing.

“Love,” he hisses, just soft, to himself. “Love.”

the-weirdest-fan asked: Kind of a random question, but Anti, when you possess someone, can you see his thoughts? Can you just dig through someone's brain to get any information you want or..? Sorry for all the questions, you and your powers are just really fascinating!

Anti quiets a little, drawing himself back up and returning to his inventory.

>Three rolls of bandages.

>One oxygen mask.

>Large box of syringes.

“In a sense, yes, and in a sense, no. It’s more like a feeling. Nothing about thought is explicit, you know. To me, everything just looks like neurons firing, and it comes with this… sensation of thought, I suppose. So if Trickshot was distressed while I was wearing him, I would be aware of that, and I could most likely understand why enough to guess at his thoughts - I turn our gaze to Dok, he feels fear, I guess that he’s afraid his brother will be hurt. And I could actually dig down to memory sensations, if I wanted, and get images and sensations and that sort of thing out of someone’s brain. But then again, you have to be careful with memories. Humans never remember anything quite right. It’s always changed by the way they perceived it, the way they stored the memory, the things they learned afterwards that have warped it in their minds… but for the most part, yes, a person is quite transparent to me when I’m inside their head.”

Anonymous asked: Antiiiiiiiii wHeN wIlL yOu LeArN ThAt yOuR aCtIoNs hAvE CoNsEquEnCeS— stop saying you’ll fix him!!! He’ll end up just like Trick!

“No, you’re wrong!” snaps Anti, looking, for all his talk, a little frightened again. “You don’t understand anything! Dapper’s always been my little pet, ever since I broke him in. Nothing’s going to take him away from me, least of all his own hands.”

For a moment, he softens again, digging peacefully through the backpack. “You know,” he says, almost fondly. “He actually is such a tough little creature, for all that I tease him. You should see him tussle. Even with me, he’s a little ferocity, snapping his teeth and - ”

Anti gasps aloud, dropping the bottle of pills he’d just picked up back into the bag as if it had burned him.

He kneels over the backpack, panting, clutching at his chest.

On the computer screen: >One bottle of Percocet.

Anti sits there for a long time, gripping at his jeans, his eyes clear and blue.

And then he heaves like he’s going to throw up, and turns away from you gagging, trying, without success, to drag himself to his feet.

Anonymous asked: Can't take the blame, can you? Figued as much. You're too much of a coward to face that the damage that's been done to your self-proclaimed family was only worsened when you took them from their old lives. Broke them. Made them into hollow shells of who they were meant to be. The funny part, you know.. Is that you think this eill make you feel like you're important, or worth something. Noboy wanted you so your forced people to. Kind of sad, isn't it? - PF!A

Anti screams aloud, slamming his fist down on the clinic floor. Glitches pierce through the air as well as the camera screen, making the whole house shudder, and you hear scrambling as Blue and Red hide beneath their mattresses in the other room, tucked close together, and they love each other more than Anti has ever been loved by a single thing in his whole life.

Blood spits down Anti’s chin as he shakes.

His hatred is eating him alive.

Anonymous asked: ...Look.. ..I do pity you, you know. God knows I understand having such a terrible upbringing like you did. As much as your actions make me want to hate you.. I don't. I really don't. There's still time to fix all this. ACTUALLY fix all this. You know that. This way of living isn't just hurting the others, but you as well. It doesn't have to be this way. That love the fans gave you was hollow, you know. It doesn't have to be, if you decide to change for the better. -PF!A

Anti is bent over the clinic sink, heaving as blood drizzles down his chin. His eyes are black as starlessness and his arms shake as they struggle to hold him up.

“I don’t want,” he whispers, licking copper from his mouth. “Your fucking pity.”

And his body flickers out of your sight, gone from every camera in the house.

 End Section Two of Chapter Two.

Find the next section here.

[bladekindeyewear]

Freed up some time, actually!  Gonna blog the new pages of HS^2.  Liveblogging resume...

FYI, the post I glimpsed that alerted me to the fact that new pages exist had a translucent screenshot of Brain Ghost Dirk on it, so I know that at least is in store for me.  Makes sense; a way to involve Dirk’s voice obnoxiously heavily even when he’s too far away to narrate.  And ties into this... chapter(?) name, of course.  Chapters, huh?

> CHAPTER 1. Ghostflusters

God. Damnit.

Could we NOT???  No?

Fuck you, Dirk.  I blame you for this.

So we have greenery, a can-city and Sburb-legal human house mix... some sorta cow-looking thing from far away in the front yard...

The void resounds. Space seizes and warps as the bounds of relevance erode away to nothing but the wishful nostalgia of times passed. There is a hole in the middle of the universe, and it is hungry.

All very literally true.

But the denizens of this particular iteration of Earth C don’t know it. All of this is just business as fucking usual for a planet plagued by war, continuous inclement ghost weather, and the general malaise of being absolutely severed from canon.

--oh, FUCK.  This isn’t the new planet, this is Candy timeline Earth.  I didn’t wanna come back here!  :C

I guess that explains most of the content warnings.  Except fucking ALCOHOLISM.  Gee, thanks for adding THAT to the Candy timeline, as if it wasn’t fucked over enough!!!  Bluh.

I thought the closing lines of the Epilogue were that after RoboDave, Aradia and alt!Callie dove out of the Candyverse inside the singularity, the black-hole timelines and Dirk’s presumably-still-”relevant” nonsense weren’t going to collide with each other again?  So... why are we seeing this?  Is there going to be MORE influence like that, and the ending line was just fancy-talk?  Is it just an irrelevant little follow-up to Candy to show things turning out okay or pseudo-okay, like an epilogue to the epilogue?  Or is some of this Dirk nonsense presumably within the bounds of some sort of canon going to still have some last bit of influence on this so-called non-canon timeline?

That last one would make sense, given that it echoes how Homestuck^2′s dubious canonicity would still have definite influence on fanworks outside of canon.  Right?

Let me pull that last line from the epilogues again--

...where’s the Epilogues’ log, this is getting kind of hard to find with all their reorganization... fuck, I had to guess at the URL even.  Here we go, the last page of Meat...

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

...Right.  This implies that Canon and Non-Canon shall never meet again.  BOTH ways.  Doesn’t quite gel with the fact that we’re cutting back here--

Oh.

This is about Jake and Brain Ghost Dirk isn’t it.  I noticed his name down further on the page.  THAT’S why we’re cutting back here.

So, Canon and Non-Canon aren’t exactly meeting... not for anything relevant, anyway.  But we’re using Candy Jake’s visibility of Brain Ghost Dirk to get a better idea of Dirk’s broader self and plans through a splinter of him?  While getting another glimpse into how the post-epilogue Candy timeline is going for our, er... “curiosity”?  Is that it?

Hm.  I guess that doesn’t count as the twain “meeting”... I’ll just keep reading now.

They spend their days absorbed in the petty and pointless pursuits of “having jobs” and “raising families” and “falling in love”.

Is this Dirk’s narrator voice?  This sounds like something the current megalomaniacal Dirk would say.

I’m not going to quote the rest of the text’s further reminders of how Jane has been made into an absolutely fucked-over asshole in every timeline except the one where she grew old to open a Joke shop, adopt Dad, die, get prototyped and timeline-doubled, then mysteriously disappear from any mention in the Epilogues as if the Sprites were just forgotten about completely eventually.

> (==>)

Oooh, using the less-relevance-surrounding-parens that were used on retconned ghost!Vriska back in Homestuck proper to denote our presence in the non-canon Candy timeline? How handy!

Not a far-away cow, then.

John has been an incredible pal, opening up his home to Jake and his son on such short notice, and even offering him a pair of pants, as well as a shirt that he has so far neglected to put on.

Alright, that got a chuckle from me.

John’s house doesn’t have air conditioning.

What the flying fuck.

...Ah, John’s been away patching things up with Roxy some more, I presume.

It, like the rest of his assets, is in her name. She’d seen to that as soon as they were married.

Life players and assets, huh?  Always gotta be hoggin’ em.

He hasn’t seen much of Tavros today either, but that’s not unusual. He’s probably out with his kismesis, the one he thinks Jake doesn’t know about.

Huh.  Maybe Candy’s young Vriska?  Couldn’t get the real Tavros with your main self, so your alternate nigh-clone self settled with a human by the same name?  Or one of the other kids we heard of from this ‘verse..?

> (==>)

Jake’s hot man-bod cropped out of this image to avoid titillating my readers too much.

(Tumblr keeps jumping back to the top of my post after I add images and I keep thinking the title reads “Ghostfuckers”.)

Jake washes the dirt out from under his fingernails, and his eyes fall on the bottle still sitting on the counter. John had opened it, but together they’d barely touched the stuff. Jake had promised him and Tavvy he’d dry up his act and all, but... well.

God damnit.  If this is still Dirk-voiced narration -- I’m not sure it can be, now I think about it, as he’s supposed to be “out of range” or something, unless non-canon is just malleable like that, which wouldnt be surprising (or Dirk’s splinter’s presence allows it) -- he could literally be inducing or writing in Jake’s drinking problem just to hurt him more.  You can’t really put an overstep that assholish past Prince Dirk the way he’s gotten to be.

There was another ask in my inbox insisting that Dirk wasn’t going to stay the true villain here, if only as some sort of karmic revenge for declaring his self-importance... but I still don’t think that’s the case.  For one, Dirk HASN’T declared himself the villain... he still can’t see how fucked-up and unjustified his trampling over of everyone’s wills IS.  Shadows of recognition... but not really.  He really honestly believes he has the fucking RIGHT to do what he’s doing.

(Which is, incidentally -- to answer another ask -- why there’s basically NO chance that Rose has some sort of control or recognition of her situation under the surface, and is playing Dirk, as another person hopefully surmised.  No.  She really IS being unknowingly steered away from personal growth and recognition of the thought-control she’s under... because nothing less could feel as horrible to us.)

Part of the entire POINT of Homestuck and its Riddle was to show that these crazy kids, if they put their wills to it, always had the potential to be the literal Gods of the world around them.  That when ordinary people grasp the will and drive to shape the world around them, they can turn everything back from the brink of destruction... or vice versa.  Thus, it’s only appropriate that a player from this game could become a villain more disgusting than any we’d imagined in the series so far.  What he’s been doing -- writing twisted sorrow directly into the lives and experiences of those around him, nurturing their worst, most power-hungry tendencies (Rose) and deceiving them more directly than Doc Scratch (who was PART Dirk) ever did, making a JOKE of their free will in a more terribly direct way than ANY have been shown onscreen to do?? It IS, and is MEANT to be, the worst we have EVER seen in Homestuck.  Not as clumsy and from-the-outside as Lord English, but just as blatantly direct.  Not as easy to ignore or mistake as Doc Scratch’s horrible, intentional Prince-of-Hearty worsening of the players, instead just as impossible to gloss-over as it is to bear witness to.  That very TITLE, “Prince of Heart”, can embody the very ANTITHESIS of the Ultimate Riddle itself, robbing EVERYONE of their ability to shape not just the world around them, but even so much as themselves or their very thoughts.  When used the way Dirk is using it RIGHT NOW, anyway.  And his ambition is to impose this on all of Paradox Space.

There COULD be another villain, later.  But I can’t imagine a single one more appropriate.  And Andrew’s just the type to use one of the Striders, both practically self-inserts of parts of his personality and presence, as that ultimate villain to be overcome in a story about escaping Canon, too.

Turning his ex into an alcoholic just for his own self-satisfaction?  In a side timeline where Jake didn’t even try a relationship with him again and finally had a chance to grow up happy in SOME universe?  I wouldn’t put it past him, and you shouldn’t either.

Moving on.

> (==>)

Eugh.  I just... don’t want to think about him being an alcoholic on TOP of everything else.  As if there wasn’t enough to deal with in Candy already.

> (==>)

Hm?

> (==>)

The jungle air is heavy, humid, and familiar. Twenty years on and the thick drag into his lungs settles on him in a blanket of nostalgia, reassuring in its discomfort.

Hm.  Is this his fantasy, or a view of him in another timeline?

He is deeper in the jungle than he’d ever venture in his waking hours. There were places on his island that not even his Gran would tread, and she’d been the bravest person he’d ever known.

Hmm.  So he even knows it’s a dream, but is still in control...

Jake doesn’t recognize anything. The jungle of his dreams is wild and unknown, and there are things moving in the dense undergrowth.

...Hhhuh.  Still not sure what to think of this yet.

A sudden wind thrashes the canopy. There are pine needles in his mouth. There aren’t any pine needles in the jungle.

Very Dream, then.

> (==>)

--Yup.

> (==>)

Yoink--

> (==>)

JAKE: Yes you are i know that much. I saw your body! I carried your coffin chock full of all those stupid fucking swords! DIRK: Nope. JAKE: Dont nope me mister!

They would pile all those shitty swords into his coffin, yeah.

Anyway, now to see how much Prince Dirk is in this Dirk.  And if he’s in one mind with himself or has the slightest chance of feeling rebellious.

JAKE: I know a dead dirk when i see one! DIRK: Sure you do. But that wasn’t me. Are you really surprised to find out I got a couple of spares? JAKE: So what youre saying is you arent my dirk. DIRK: ...That is a whole ‘nother conversation that we really don’t have time for, pertaining to exactly who or what ‘your dirk’ actually constitutes. DIRK: Do you mean the Dirk from your timeline? DIRK: Then yes, that Dirk is dead. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you fucked and then ghosted, no, I’m not your Dirk. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you felt closest to, that you really knew--

...well, this Dirk still knows how to be a presumptuous, pushy creep.  :(

JAKE: Ahhh! Brain ghost dirk! DIRK: In the ghosty flesh. JAKE: Crumbs bro where have you been? JAKE: I could have used someone on my side! JAKE: You just disappeared one day without even the odd toodaloo to mark your passing! DIRK: That isn’t strictly true. I did disappear, but it was in a catastrophic blaze of hope-drenched pathos. I even threw out a couple one-liners. DIRK: But you wouldn’t remember that. JAKE: Because...it was a different dirk? DIRK: No, a different Jake.

Hhhuh.  So in the claymation-reproduced Lord English stagefight -- or, maybe more likely, the pre-retcon Aranea-induced Game Over timeline -- he was too washed out by hopesplosions to manifest properly?

DIRK: Until recently there’s been a shortage of ambient narrative relevance for Dirks, since one particular motherfucker has been sucking it all up like a thirsty little twink at his first interspecies rave.

Hm!  So Prince Dirk has been making it so other splinters of himself have really limited ability to influence, huh?  Guess that’s a sort of price for the narrative-hijacking power he’s attained.  Wonder how this Dirk really feels about that.

> (==>)

--Pff.  He’s certainly not shy about letting Jake know he shouldn’t trust him, though!  That’s a good sign.

I’ll split the post here for a bit.  Seems we’re about halfway through this upd8 from the look of the log.

[angelkurenai]

Imagine you and Jensen getting married in secret and your friend and costar, Robert Downey Jr, revealing it during a comic con.

“I think we got the script on-” Jensen started but he was cut off by the fans erupting into cheers. He frowned, in fact all of the people on the table did, but after looking at the table he decided to take a look behind him and a soft laugh escaped his lips. Everybody else on the table copied his movement and soon they found themselves laughing softly but clapping along with the fans as you stood behind them with a perplexed look.

“What the fuck?” you mouthed, looking at the fans and motioning at the men in front of you on the stage before you approached them, still trying to look as stunned and not burst in laughter “Is this Supernatural?” you mouthed once more, mimicking your costar Mark during another one of your costars, Paul's, interviews. Of course many fans got it and laughed even more while cheering for you.

“Whoa whoa we've got incoming! No alien fighting here, just some very old salty men answering questions, nothing special to see!” Rob was the first one to say with a grin.

“Seems like whenever you hear 'Loki' you show up, don't ya?” Richard asked with a smirk and you couldn't help a giggle at your friend wanting to tease you.

You grinned, approaching the table and throwing an arm over Jared's and Jensen's shoulder, while fighting the urge to kiss the living heaven out of the second because of his irresistible and breath-taking smile on his lips “I'll admit, the mention of Loki is a reason solid enough for me to be here, I think you guys can understand, right?” you spoke into Jared's microphone that he had brought closer to you and they all yelled yes, making you grin “But it's not the real reason, not at all.”

“Then what happened?” Jared asked with a grin and you sighed as heavily as you could, trying not to crack up a smile.

“I work with children, it's official, I'm the only adult in the entire Marvel cast.” you shook your head “I was back with RDJand uh I'll give everyone a simple tip, just in case you ever make the huge mistake to hang out with that man. Don't you ever listen to his suggestions, he's secretly planning your humiliation!” you pursed your lips, saying seriously.

“What did he do this time?” Jensen asked with a soft chuckle, unable to hold back his smile.

You looked at him and a smile instantly formed on your lips, his own being that contagious. His hand found yours hanging off his shoulder and you gave it a squeeze before he started rubbing soothing circles on it. A habit which he had gained over the years and that you now hoped the fans wouldn't notice, because you certainly couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him. Of course, the fans were aware of the fact that you knew each other as some photos had shown way back, five years ago. What they weren't aware was just how much closer you'd come lately though. You'd had a very hard time hiding it from them or the public, it required sacrifices sometimes, but you had ended up making it work.

“I was with him backstage and you know I'm terrible at remembering dates, right? Well, I didn't know where my phone was so I decided I should trust him! Trust Robert Downey Jr, yeah right. He can be like Jared Padalecki number 2 if he wants to!” you scoffed, shaking your head “So he said that our panel was today and I could check out the stage just in case. And he insisted that there was no way that there could be a panel going on at the moment. And you know it was pretty quiet so I thought that it was worth taking a look, that he couldn't be wrong, and now here I am. And by the way-” you looked at the fans “What's up with you guys? You were so quiet and I listened to Robert!”

“Well, it's maybe cause the Supernatural fans are well-behaved and polite, unlike others!” Jared sassed you and you couldn't help a giggle this time.

“Dare you imply Marvel fans aren't? Not to mention that some of them are also Supernatural fans.” you said back with a smirk “Besides, alright I can understand you, guys.” you nodded your head seriously, looking at them “Every time I open my TV I just fall completely speechless and breathless every time I see, well, this face!” you motioned at Jensen who this time lost it and burst in laughter, the adorable wrinkles by his eyes made your heart skip a beat as per always.

“I mean-” you laughed as well when the crowd went wild at your words, letting go of his arm and placing it on his shoulder where you gave another squeeze “No offence guys, but I will never deny my true identity.” you looked at Jared, Misha and Alex laughing “I'm a Dean-girl to the bone, who can blame me?”

“Well, excellent choice if I might say so!” Jensen said with a smirk, winking at you and causing nearly a hundred heart attacks to the poor fans watching you and having really no idea.

“She clearly has a type, what can you do?” you heard a voice behind you and when you turned, you saw Robert already holding a microphone and smiling widely. He walked forward to greet Misha, Jared and Alex and Jensen actually got on his feet to give him a hug; both of them giving some time to the audience to calm down before he could speak again.

“Alright, alright calm down. Calm down. We're all shook over the crossover I know, but sadly they haven't given us the script of Tony Stark and Dean Winchester meeting so don't get too excited, yes?” Robert said with a small smirk, always so casual, as he motioned for them to lower the volume “I believe we have more pressing matters.” he looked at you “Don't you think we should talk about you saying some not-so-nice things about me and misleading everyone?”

“The way he's narrowing his eyes at me is actually scaring me.” you watched him suspiciously “What sort of revenge are you planning, Downey?”

“Me? Revenge? No!” he scoffed “No, no. I'm not that kind of guy, not my forte you see. I forgive very easily at that. Ask Rogers if you want, I don't even hold any hard feelings.” he shrugged and all you did was raise an eyebrow at him “Hence...” he nodded his head, trailing off.

“Civil War and Infinity War, yeah, I know. Been there to clean up your mess.” you shrugged.

“Alright then, I will only make one question and be on my way and not interrupt the panel any further. I feel like as a fan, I could have that right, yes?” he looked at Rob and Richard who nodded their heads in amusement.

“Well, yes of course you can.” Richard said with a grin.

“Well, I wanted to asked your very talented and skilled writer, Andrew, huge fan of the work you've done here by the way.” he said so casually you actually held your breath, serious and curious to hear what he would say because you had not talked about this when you first planned all of this.

“Uh thank you, thank you, it's a honor to hear it from you.” Andrew said with a soft chuckle but certainly sincere words.

“Oh don't mention it, I'm a fanboy right now. Just standing on the opposite side of where the rest are, don't mind it. So uh my question is-” he cleared his throat, fixing his suit's jacket and getting very serious “How long do you think Mrs (Y/n)... Ackles's character in Supernatural will resist before the tension between her and Dean becomes too much for everybody to ignore and you just oh give the newlyweds' characters a kissing scene?”

And that was all the fans needed to erupt into deafening cheering and clapping, screaming like crazy for the two of you, as they all stood on their feet. All your husband did was laugh, throwing his head back at the surprise your friend actually had for you, enjoying the surprise more than all of them too. All you did was gasp hard, your eyes widening before you finally shut them tightly and hid your red face behind your hands, laughing in disbelief. You shook your head, still unable to believe he'd said it.

“Thank you.” Robert nodded his head with a big smile.

“Awesome!” you heard Jensen's laughter “That was just awesome!” you saw him shake his friend's hand before he just wrapped his arms around and kissed your head, temple, cheek and then lips. You still laughed against his lips but didn't even think of kissing him back and cupping his cheek, just as the rest of your friends clapped for you.

“And now-” Robert spoke but the fans were nowhere near calm “Let's give a round of applause for Mr and Mrs Ackles, even louder than the first one, because they managed to keep their relationship a secret for four years... and Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo can't keep themselves from spoiling something for 1 second.” and he got just what he asked for, making you giggle.

“Ok, for real now?” you said after they had somehow calmed down, but it wasn't that fast anyway “Truth was Jensen and I had been planning about this reveal for like a couple months now but we couldn't come to a decision because no way seemed good enough to reveal not only a hidden relationship and engagement but also wedding!”

“Seems like we don't need to anymore.” Jensen said with a grin and shrug of his shoulders, and you laughed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Seems like we don't, no.” you repeated.

“Robert Downey Jr, everybody, an applause for him, you guys!” he motioned to Robert as he still had an arm wrapped around your shoulders. The fans did as Jensen asked making Robert finally crack and laugh.

“Just admit it, you had not planned for this, had you?” Jensen asked you, looking at you with a smirk and you nodded your head.

“I didn't know he was going to do that, no.” you shook your head.

“But he spared us all the trouble. So we can only thank him!” he gave you a kiss on the temple “Because we weren't gonna make that announcement anytime soon, that's for sure.”

“Maybe when you had grandchildren, then that would be a good opportunity!” Jared said with a grin, teasing you.

“Seems like that's what we'd end up doing, yes.” your husband said with a smile, before turning to look at Andrew “By the way, hey, before he leaves: You didn't get to answer his question and he really wants to know!”

“Robert or you?” his best friend and best man said with a smirk and you laughed.

Jensen shrugged ever-so-casually, nodding his head “Yeah me too, I guess. But I'm warning you-” he pointed a finger at Andrew “I won't last for more than half an episode!”

“I think-” Andrew laughed “I think we will just make it a surprise, Jensen, for when you get the script next week. But sadly, Robert and everybody else, you'll have to wait a little longer than that.”

“Oh I don't worry, I will end up finding out next week along with Jensen as well. I'm gonna camp outside your set.” Robert just shrugged, making your all laugh.

.

..

…

“And before I leave, let me give everyone another small heart attack by placing this here-” he took a few steps forward and placed a card that said '(Y/n) Ackles' next to Jensen's “And let me remind you our panel is tomorrow.”

“I still don't trust him on that.” you said, shaking your head “He'll make me reveal a pregnancy or something.”

“What?!” your friends, but Jensen above all, exclaimed with wide eyes. All Robert did was laugh to himself.

[imaginesmai]

Damon Salvatore-Back to you

I know I’m a shitty person and a terrible writer! This has taken too long, I’m sorry; but here it is! I’m really sorry @kira-kirishima (I don’t know why I can’t tag you), I hope you like it!

Plot: Damon and you broke up two years ago, thinking it was for the best. When a threat to your life becomes too real, he’s forced to come back for the only woman he loves.

Damon had always thought the modern world was, at least, interesting. They did strange things that he didn’t understand; for example, drink alcohol from small glasses. When he was human, they drank alcohol from big bottles and didn’t stop until it was empty. But modern times were different; and they drank from small vases that they didn’t even fill to the top. He used to adjust to that, in order to not seeming like a drunk man. After your break-up, not even the biggest bottle could held the alcohol he drank to forget you.

-          Hey, man. -the bartender said. -We are, uh, we are closed.

It seemed like the right decision at that moment. You were busy with your studies, he was busy with his enemies and brother. So you two drifted apart until one day he couldn’t reach you no more. Damon thought he would be fine, but he wasn’t. After nearly two years, he was stuck in your beautiful smile.

-          Are you hearing me? -he talked again. -I’m sorry, but I need to close now.

You were happy with your life, living with the Gilberts and studying for university. Safe from the world that chased him, and probably looking for a man that knew how to treat you like a princess.

-          Look, this is getting weird. If you don’t get out-

-          What, you’ll call the police? -Damon said, still not looking up from the spot of the wall. -Or maybe chase me away with a baseball bat?

-          I-I really don’t want to do that, man. -he let out an awkward laugh. -I’m sure there are a lot of pubs open, but this one needs to close now.

Damon sighed and looked to the man. He was probably around his thirty, with chubby cheeks and a sweaty forehead. If he had to guess, he would probably say that he was in an Irish village or something like that; but he couldn’t remember. The vampire’s mind was filled with imagines of alcohol and blood. And in that moment, the man’s neck seemed very appealing.

-          Look, uh. -Damon squeezed his eyes to look at the tag name. -Jerry, right? Your name is Jerry?

-          Ye-eah

-          Cool, nice name. Not as cool as mine. I’m Damon. -he smirked. -And I’m telling you, Jerry, I’m not going to leave this place until I’ve finished with every last bottle you have in there.

-          I think you’ve had enough. -Jerry frowned, feeling anger raising in his small body. -I don’t want to call the police, but-

-          You’re starting to be annoying. -Damon sighed. -Do you really thing the police have a chance against this?

Suddenly, Damon’s eyes turned an angry shade of red, and under them, lot of little black veins appeared. A look to the vampire’s pointed teeth was enough for Jerry to scream. He tried to run away, but Damon used his speed and was beside him, gripping his arm, in second.

-          This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to shut the fuck up and keep open until I decide otherwise. If not, I’m going to use you as my dinner. Would you like that, Jerry?

-          Pl-please, tak-ke the money. -he begged. -J-just let me go-o, pl-lease

-          I really thought we were building something here! -Damon mocked. -I’m thinking that-

-          Damon. -he heard behind him. -That’s enough.

From all the people he expected to meet in the middle of a lost village, his brother wasn’t one of them. Stefan Salvatore was standing by the door, with a huge coat and, in Damon’s opinion, a ridiculous hat. It had been two years since he had saw him, and sure as hell his brother had changed. His eyes were deeper, his jaw tensed and he swore he was stronger. But the alcohol was starting to numb his mind. Before he could talk again, Stefan appeared beside him and took the man from his grip.

-          You’ll leave this place and forget this had happened. -he looked deep into his eyes. -When you wake up next morning, none of it will have happened.

Jerry nodded softly and, like a robot, he walked out of the pub after taking his coat. That left the two brothers alone.                

-          You’re nearly impossible to find. -Stefan said.

-          Or you’re just very bad at looking. -Damon took another bottle form the shelf. -I’ve been here all along.

-          Sure, so you were not the cause of the two dead women in Egypt last month? -he raised a brow. -And where is exactly here?

-          Uh, Ireland? -Damon let out a little laugh.

-          Actually it’s Australia. -Stefan sighed.

-          Well, both countries are full of assholes and good alcohol. -Damon smirked. -I’m more than good with that.

There was a moment of silence where Damon poured down his throat another bottle of whisky. Or rum, he wasn’t sure anymore. Stefan moved fast and slapped the next bottle out of his hands, and Damon found himself pressed against the wall.

-          What do you think you’re doing? -Stefan hissed.

-          I was going to drink that. -Damon rolled his eyes. -But now I can’t.

-          You know what I mean. You’ve been away for two years, Damon. And I’ve only heard from you when there was a massacre or a bar robbed somewhere.

-          Usually those two things come together, but it’s not always me.

-          Egypt, France, Germany and even Brazil. -Stefan continued. -When are you going to come back?

-          To what, brother? To a bunch of humans who are always in problems? -he scoffed. -No, thank you. I’m-

-          Don’t lie to yourself. -Stefan said. -You’re not coming back because of her.

-          That’s not true. -Damon growled.

-          You’re not coming back because you’re a coward who doesn’t know how to mend his mistakes.

Damon had his brother pinned to the counter in seconds, his eyes wild with fury. Stefan felt some glassed stick on his back, and he hissed in pain. The brothers pushed each other around for a while, until Damon pushed Stefan against the door.

-          I’m no coward! -he screamed to his face. -Y/N is long forgotten for me, and surely I don’t have anything to apologise for.

He knew it wasn’t true.

Damon regretted few things in his life. Maybe some nights when he had lost control of himself, turning out in some dead girls and a messed place. A few nightstands where the girl had fallen in love with him and he had had to deal with angry friends. Or that time he got so drunk he threw up all over Stefan; although he was not sure that was a bad thing. He considered himself a lucky man. Sure, he was a vampire meant to kill and destroy and had almost as many enemies as years. But he had a brother to mess with, a nice house and he had you.

You had met him through Elena and Jeremy. You had been her friend since forever, and had met the Salvatore when you walked into a… sticky situation between Elena, some vampires and the brothers. Stefan had used that time to kill the vampires, leaving you with your mouth wide open and the song in your earphones long forgotten. They tried to talk to you; yet you ran away scared for your life. Long short story, Damon found you and since that moment, he became infatuated with you. You two lasted three years together; then, Damon ended the relationship blaming it all on you. And he left Mystic Falls leaving his heart there.

-          Alcohol isn’t going to replace her. -Stefan choked out. -Neither will all those dead girls.

-          You know nothing! -he shook his brother.

With a hard push, Damon ended up on the floor.

-          You’re right, I know nothing about your relationship with her. -Stefan straightened his coat. -I just know that you’ve been sulking around the world and that she’s hiding in her room because you both are miserable without each other.

-          I-

-          And you want to know what else I know? -he interrupted Damon. -That there are some kind of original vampires right now in Mystic Falls, trying to make human sacrifices with the Gilbert. And Y/N is in between all of that, with an obsessed vampire following her everywhere.

-          Wha-at?

And that way, Stefan start talking. A few months ago the originals appeared in town; they thought they were just passing by, but they stayed and the problems arrived. This particular one, Kol, had an strange obsession with you. He was everywhere you went, and it reached the point where you arrived to Elena’s house crying in fear. Just the thought of someone bothering you made the alcohol leave Damon’s body.

-          Why are you here then? -he frowned. -You should be there protecting her! She’s just a human, not a vampire or a hunter!

-          You know she’s difficult, Damon. -Stefan sighed. -Jeremy and Bonnie have tried talking to her, but she’s stubborn. So I was hoping you would change her mind. For her safety.

It was true that you weren’t very fond of vampires and supernatural stuff. You had tried to stay away from all of it since the beginning, the only thing chaining you to that word was Damon. It didn’t matter if it was a threat or protection, you didn’t want supernatural people around you. And Damon knew that you liked to stay out of it; so it worried him to no end that a original had even looked you way.

-          And why I’m hearing from this now? Why are you here now and not before?

-          Because I couldn’t find you, Damon! -Stefan rolling his eyes. -Are you coming with me, then?

-          Of course.

Maybe in other occasion, he would have said no. He would have joked with Stefan or said some sassy remark. But when the life of his girl was on the table, not even the last drop of alcohol could make him lose focus.

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

Mystic Falls had always felt too small for you. You were raised in a little village in the middle of nowhere too; but you used to live in a farm, where you could run and walk everywhere. Locked inside your house because some vampire and human sacrifice wasn’t, then, your ideal plan for a Friday’s night. It wasn’t like you went out a lot, you liked quiet nights with your friends, watching films or playing games. Not being able to even go outside to buy popcorns was getting you on your nerves.

You were laying on your bed with a forgotten book on your nightstand. It had been a gift from Damon, the only one who really understood you before he left. He stayed with you watching shitty films, respected your wish of staying out of the supernatural world, and made up the best jokes. But then, he left you and you got stuck in that hellhole full of vampires, wear wolfs and god knows what.

-          Are you even listening to me? -you heard Elena sighing in the other side of the phone.

-          Yeah, sure. -you said. -You were talking about maths?

-          About Jeremy, actually. But I guess you don’t care anyway.

-          Hey, of course I care. -you sighed. -You know I don’t like this, I just tend to lose myself in my head because I can’t do anything else.

-          I don’t like it neither, Y/N. -Elena said. -But I would rather have you angry and distracted than death.

-          It has been weeks since I saw him, maybe he has given up?

Last time you saw Kol was in the supermarket. You had declined Stefan’s company to the point you snuck up on him. He had his life and you had yours; and frankly, it was quiet strange sharing a house with you ex-boyfriend’s brother. You just wanted to buy some chips, but as soon as you put a foot on the supermarket, you knew you were in trouble. The whole place closed down and Stefan and Bonnie had to take you out before Kol rip you apart for a sacrifice. Two seconds later and you would have been death. Since then, Stefan had been gone to somewhere to find god knows what. And you got stuck in house arrest.

-          He can’t step on your house. As soon as you get out, he’ll come.

-          But I want to go out, I’m going crazy! -you complained.

-          Just wait until Stefan is back.

-          When will he? Because, as his girlfriend, I expected you to have more knowledge about him. -you said.

-          Maybe I know where he is but I don’t want to tell you?

-          You couldn’t because you’re an horrible liar, Elena.

-          Fine, I don’t know. -she sighed. -But whatever he is doing, it’s the right thing. I’m sure this will be over before you know it.

-          Yeah. -it was silent for a bit. -Look, I’m going to grab something to eat, or maybe watch another film. I’ll call you tomorrow.

-          Okay, take care Y/N.

With a final smile, you hang up. Truth was that you physically ached for going outside again, but you were scared out of your mind. Sometimes, you thought about how things would be if Damon was still there. He had a way of making everything seem unimportant; and that used to make you feel safe. But he wasn’t there and you were in danger, once more.

As you walked down the stairs, you mind was far away, so you didn’t turn on the lights. The kitchen of your house had a huge window from where the moon light could pass and illuminate the whole floor. It lead to a huge garden and a fountain with thing you didn’t even use. Your parents bought them when you were a kid, but they were so busy traveling around the world that they didn’t care about them. You were making yourself some toasts when you saw by the corner of your eye someone moving. Without really thinking about it, you elbowed them in the face.

You were met with a huge frame that was holding his nose, and you swore you had seen him somewhere. In high school, in the gym…or in the supermarket. The image of Kol’s bloodied fangs and hungry eyes made you start to hyperventilate, and you tried to make a run for it. The man gripped your middle and tried to keep you in place, which only made you cry and beg more; not that any of it could be understood, as it was all mixed with sobs and short breaths. Between the loud white noise in your ears, Stefan’s voice reached you.

-          …because she’s not breathing! -Stefan shouted. You were curled in the floor, trying to get air in your lungs. -No, you don’t come any closer!

-          And how can we help her from here?! -you brain tried to remember that voice, but it was useless. -Get the fuck out of my way before I snap your neck.

-          I’m not letting-

-          You don’t get we don’t have time for this?! -the voice was desperate. -She’s not breathing!

-          You’re not going to help-

Stefan was interrupted by a strange noise, and you found yourself wrapped around some pair of arms. You tried to get out at first; but then, you felt the comfort that Damon used to give you when you were together. He started saying something to you, but you couldn’t really make it out. His hands rubbed up and down your back, and soon the little black dots disappeared.

-          …in the fair town, that was a good day. -Damon said, quietly. -Or the time you dragged me to that stupid convection of the film. God, you were stunning with the costume.

-          You liked it too. -you whispered, making him look down.

-          No, I like seeing you smile. -he smirked. -Even if it means standing crazy teenagers for hours.

Damon kept talking to you for a while, until you felt like you could breathe again. When you did, he couldn’t have seen your hand coming down his face.

-          Wow! -he frowned.- That’s-that’s not a thank you!

-          What the fuck were you expecting, idiot?!  You think is funny sneaking on people?!

-          I-I didn’t sneak on you! -he tried to shield himself from your hits. -God, woman! You’re hurting me!

-          You fucking deserve it! -you shouted, furious. -What give you the right to sneak on my house at night?!

-          Are you even listening? I didn’t sneak on you, Y/N! You were the one hitting me first!

-          Because I thought you were Kol! -your scream was interrupted by a sob. -How would I have guessed you would be here?! Last thing you told me was that we would never meet again!

He stood silent for a second, still siting besides you as Stefan regained consciousness. His brother shouted at him, shouted at Y/N and shouted at nothing in particular; then, he made sure she was alright. Damon stood in his place as Stefan talked to you and took you up to your room. He kept standing by the kitchen even when his brother told him it was time to leave, because he couldn’t shake the fact that you had told him “you deserve it”. Damon thought he wasn’t even worthy of breathing the same air; he had left you because he was too selfish to admit he was crazy about you, and because he was too much of a pussy to keep trying for a relationship when it faded out.

-          Damon. -Stefan called him again. -I’m leaving, and you probably should too.

-          Who is staying with her? -he asked.

-          No one, Kol can’t step on this house without her permission.

-          But-

-          Damon, she’ll be fine. -Stefan half-smiled. -Maybe we could come back tomorrow.

-          I prefer- is she asleep?

-          No, I don’t think so. -Stefan said. -But it’s not a good idea.

-          Wait for me in the front.

Without another word, he walked up your room. In the stairs there were family photos. Some of them with your parents, with your friends or you as a child. Damon knew about your parents, strangers that disappeared when you were ten to live the life. They left you with your grandma, who died a few years ago. He was there for you, and saw how you leaned on him with everything you got. Which, in that moment, made him feel the worst person for leaving you. He hoped it wouldn’t be too late to make things right.

He didn’t knock on your door, it wasn’t necessary. It was open, and you were laying with your back facing him. You had a little light on, and next to it was the book he bought you. He almost smiled at the memory of your smile that day.

-          I don’t need anyone watching over me. -your voice was muffled with the pillow.

-          I know. Stefan has told me you’ve been a pain in the ass. -he sat in the bed, looking at the ground. -So, this Kol is giving you problems?

-          Why do you care? -you scoffed. -As far as I know, you haven’t been here since a long time. You just came back because your brother asked you.

-          I came back because of you, and you know it. -he rolled his eyes.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke again.

-          He can’t come in, you know. -he said. -You don’t have to be scared in your own house.

-          You know nothing, Damon. That guy is everywhere.

-          Stefan’s making sure he doesn’t get too close to you.

-          Yeah, by locking me away in my room. Because if I get out, a mad vampire will get me and use me as a sacrifice because I, what, probably remind him to a past lover?

-          Stefan told me about the supermarket.

Tears filled your eyes when you thought about it. Kol wanted to open you up to take out all of your blood, and he made sure to let you know he was going to achieve it.

-          I’m staying here, for real. -Damon talked again. -I guess I’ll be staying in my old house, although I’ll miss this shitty bed.

-          You can leave again for all I care.

-          But I want to stay. -he sighed. -I made a mistake leaving, Y/N, and I’m so sorry.

-          Why did you leave? -you turned around to look at you. -I know we were drifting apart, but I hadn’t given up on you.

-          I don’t-I was a coward. -he said. -I thought that you would have a better life without me, so I left. But I lost who I was on the way, because I left my heart with you. I-I haven’t stopped loving you.

-          You shouldn’t have left. -you whispered.

-          I know. And not even a thousand lives could tell you how sorry I am.

You sat up in your bed, looking at him. It was true that he hurt you, that you thought that your world had ended, and that you had hated him. But he was right besides you, and you knew enough about life to understand that, if something made you happy, you had to keep it. Because there might never be another chance.

So taking him by surprise, you put your hand on his cheek and kissed his lips softly. It was not the kiss you used to have with him, full of lust and love. It was almost shy, but it held everything you wanted to share.

-          This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you. -you whispered against his lips. -I guess we both left the relationship to rot, but we can make it work again. If you promise to stay this time.

-          I promise, Y/N. -he chuckled. -God, I promise to stay with you until you get tired of me.

-          That’s good. -you smiled, stroking his cheek.

-          And I also promise the Kol’s problem will be taken care off. We will be just like before I left.

Damon swallowed the words “I love you” and instead kissed you again, enjoying having you with him. He knew he had a lot to prove to you, but he was willing to do it. Whatever it took and as many time as you needed. Because once you find the love of your life, you can’t let it go.

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