#i still won’t be on here as often but i am able to tolerate screens a bit more

[thelightreflects]

.

[k-llama-llama]

Midnight Translation

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Rei x Seventeen

Sleepy Rei can still be helpful Rei

She is NOT cannon with the rest of my AUs.

A/N: I want to apologize and thank everyoone who has been so very very patient. I’ve been going through it this past while, and I thank you all for not hating me lol….ALSO CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR ACCESS TO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT AND EARLY ACCESS (patreon.com/kllamallama)

Requests are OPEN!!!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

Rei’s pillow was vibrating.

            With a groan, she reached under her pillow, feeing around for her phone. She felt like she’d just fallen asleep, and when she finally pulled her phone out from under the covers, the bright screen hurt her head.

            It was two in the morning. Who on earth was texting her at two in the morning?

            Eyes focusing enough through the light that she could read the screen, she saw three messages from Jihoon.

            Rei, how would you say ‘eternity’ in Japanese?

            Actually, do you think you can come here and help?

            Are you asleep?

            She wished she was asleep. But now she was awake. Pushing herself up on her elbow, she checked that Chan hadn’t been woken by her groaning. He was still sprawled across his bed, the covers half on the floor.

            Despite the temptation to roll over and go back to sleep, Rei knew that falling back asleep would take time. And considering that the most recent message from Jihoon had only been sent two minutes ago, he was probably still up.

            Tucking her phone in the pocket of her sweatpants, Rei wrapped her Kirby duvet around her shoulders and then rolled out of bed. She opened the door as quietly as she could, but Chan didn’t even move.

            There were no lights on in the house, but she knew her way around easily enough. When she reached Jihoon’s door, there was a light shining out underneath. She didn’t bother knocking.

            He looked away from his computer with a start, obviously not expecting someone to burst into his room at two in the morning. His hair was mussed and he was wearing a black hoodie. His computer was open to his music program, but he had a notebook in front of him.

            “Rei?” He whispered. “Is that you?”

            She shifted the blanket a little so he could see her face. “Who else would it be?”

            “I thought you were asleep.”

            Rei closed the door behind her and walked over to his bed, flopping onto it. “I was. I’m not anymore.”

            He rubbed his face. “Did I wake you up?”

            She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I’m awake now.”

            “Sorry.” He reached over, pulling his pillow closer so that she could snuggle with it. “I texted you before I realized how late it was.”

            “I figured.” She sighed. “Do you have any snacks?”

            Jihoon shook his head with a laugh. “You really want snacks this late at night?”

            “I always want snacks.” She stared at him. “So….?”

            He tossed her a bag of shrimp crackers. “Is that good enough?”

            “Yup?” Pulling a few out of the bag, she munched on them happily. “So what were you texting me about?”

            “Oh,” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m working on a Japanese song. I picked one that I wrote a while ago and I’m trying to translate it and see how it sounds.”

            “And that couldn’t wait until morning?”

            “No, I wanted to get it done.” He explained. “And then I remembered that I don’t speak Japanese.”

            “But I do.” She sighed. “Okay, toss the notebook over here.” She held out a hand. It was covered in dust from the crackers.

            Jihoon shook his head. He grabbed a tissue and wiped her hand, before passing over his notebook and a pen. She looked over what he’d already written out, staring blankly at the page.

            “Are you fully awake?” Jihoon asked.

            “No.” Rei whined. “I need coffee.”

            “You’re not getting coffee. If you have too much caffeine, you won’t be able to go back to sleep.”

            She pouted, but started writing, translating all of the phrases that he had written down. It took her about twenty minutes, before she handed the notebook back to him.

            “I think that’s all right, but to be honest, I won’t know until I’ve had a coffee.”

            “I thought you weren’t allowed to have coffee anymore?” Jihoon looked over the notes, finding that she’d crossed out and rewritten most of his lackluster attempt at translations. He’d only attempted it because he couldn’t wait any longer and was feeling too productive to sleep.

            Rei sighed. “You’re going to tell on me?”

            He looked over at her and smiled. She looked absolutely exhausted, all squished onto his bed and blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Not a chance. Do you want me to order you some coffee?”

            “It’s the middle of the night.”

            “Yeah, and you’re sleepy.” He dropped the notebook on his desk and rolled over to her, pushing some of her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

            “It’s okay. I know you couldn’t sleep.” She reached up to grab his hand, holding it contently under her chin.

            Jihoon felt his heart melt a little bit. Even though he made a big point of saying how much he disliked skinship and only tolerated it from the guys, he loved it from Rei. Even when she’d been a kid, she’d always known how he was feeling. And back then, she’d often been more willing to wrap him in a hug then to attempt speaking. This wasn’t the first time she’d stayed up through the night with him because he was stressed, and he knew she wouldn’t complain about it at all.

            “Can you order noodles?” Rei asked quietly.

            “Do you want food, or do you want to go to sleep?” He asked, squeezing her hand.

            “Are you going to sleep?” She stared at him, already knowing the answer.

            “I have more work to do.” He said weakly.

            “Cool, then I’ll stay up with you.” She pushed herself into a sitting position, not letting go of his hand, and stretched. “I would like noodles and coffee, please, Oppa.”

            “You got it.” He rose from his chair, grabbing his phone and plopping down next to her. “Let’s find somewhere to order from.”

            Rei leaned her head on his shoulder, staring at the screen as he scrolled through the options. “You’re okay, right, Oppa?” Her voice was kind – still raspy from sleep, but awake and attentive.

            “Course, Rei.” He answered a little too quickly, and she nudged his side.

            Chuckling, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I am, Rei, now that you’re here.”

            “Well, I am the best.” She smiled.

            “You are.” He agreed. “How much food do you want?”

            “All of it.”

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Nightscape

Sebastian x Reader | ☁️ | 1.8k

A chime from your phone jolted your attention off your screen. 

It was that time of the day already. Even though you heard this notification every single day, you were always startled by it. 

The sound of your freedom. 

Turning back to your desktop screen, you skimmed over the information once more. Hopefully it was error free - you managed to keep up your zero-tolerance policy for mistakes to get this far, no messing up now. Hitting save, your mouse flew across the screen to shut down your computer.

Grabbing your favourite travel mug and shoving it into your bag, you stood up, feeling the stretch in, well, everything. Your eyes drifted over the walls of your cubical, spying the dull grey walls of the office you worked in. Nothing but the sounds of typing and quiet murmurs filled the efficiency focused workspace. 

Just another typical day for you.

You wondered if the sun had already set - the lack of windows made the place feel like a prison. If the building was a prison, you were their captive. Locked up in the daily grind lifestyle.

At least the pay was decent.

Tossing on your jacket and picking up your bag, you checked over your phone notifications as your feet moved on autopilot towards the exit.

“Done for the day, (Y/N)?”

Your co-worker’s voice made you pause right before the door. 

“Yup,” you responded with a plastered on smile. What was their name again? “Are you?”

“Got to work overtime today.”

“Ahh, good luck. Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

You immediately picked up your pace and your fake smile disappeared. One awkward encounter was more than enough. Your exhausted brain still had no idea what their name was. It probably started with a... G? Maybe? 

As sad as it was, they didn’t really matter. Not to you anyways.

Popping into the elevator, you pressed the ground floor. Whatever energy that had been sapped out of you all day was being restored with every step you took leaving the building.

You could see the glow of the streetlights outside. Looks like the sun had set for a while now. It wouldn’t be long before the stars would come out.

Spying the company logo as you walked out, you let out a big sigh. 

Joja Corporation.

Being able to find a job that gave you a living salary as a young adult should have made you happy. You lived on your own and had a growing savings account. Not much else going on though. 

Ever since starting your life at Joja, your life had become monotonous.

Wake up. Work. Sleep. Repeat. 

Super exciting.

Work life balance? More like work was your life.

Just as you sat down in your car, your phone pinged. Pulling your phone out, you saw a cheerful notification from your mom.

‘Look what I found cleaning! You looked so happy whenever you went to visit your grandpa. Hope things are going well with work!’

Attached was a picture of you and your late grandpa on his farm - he passed away a few years ago. You admired him when you were young, he was a man who stuck to his beliefs and had the kindest heart. Time with him in Stardew Valley always felt like it moved more slowly than the city life you knew but flew by regardless.

“I wonder if things have changed,” you murmured. “It’s been years...”

Starting up your car, you started to drive home. Nights like tonight were busy, Fridays brought out the nightlife more than any other night. The lane you were in crawled forward at a turtle’s pace even at a green light.

Letting out a puff of air, you decided to do something different. Signaling and switching to right lane, you drove without braking for a while. Gliding on the quiet roads heading out of the city, the serene darkness welcomed you with open arms. Letting the city disappear behind you along with all the uncertainties. 

You finally started to slow down when you approached the familiar outlook point that let you see the city from afar.

Even from where you were, you could see the Joja Corporation company you worked at.

What did it take to make the company disappear?

Parking, you turned off your engine and stepped out of your car. Nature’s silence greeted your ears as the crickets’ quiet chirped and the breezes tickled the grass. Sitting on the hood of your car, you leaned back to rest on your elbows as you stared at the night sky with the moon and stars watching from above.

“Something needs to change,” you declared to yourself.

Saying the words out loud made it feel more real. Confirmed. 

You were young and could have a bright future ahead of you. Why were you letting Joja take your excitement for living away?

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but the sound of a motorcycle approaching caught your attention. Keeping your eyes on the sky, you listened as the motorcycle stopped nearby. As their engine cut off, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel filled the air instead. 

Everything fell back silent for a few minutes. Both knowing that each other were there but not saying anything to each other. 

After a while, the footsteps started to approach you. The person had moved so that they were right next to you, leaning against your car as well.

“So you’re here tonight too,” he said, greeting you. “Didn’t think I’d see you.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at him. “Nice to see you too, Seb.”

The corner of his lip moved upward, as a smile grew on his face. The moon captured his gentle features, not letting the darkness hide any of his surreal charm.

Meeting Sebastian was like a lucky opportunity with fate - the two of you had been complete strangers who happened to be overlooking the city nightscape when your car decided to play matchmaking by revealing a flat tire. Ever since then, Sebastian and you would meet completely by coincidence when the feeling of needing to get away from life happened.

Sitting up, you moved you head so it was resting on Sebastian’s shoulder as you let out a sigh.

“Rough day?” he asked softly. 

“Kind of. I... don’t know how to keep living life this way,” you explained. 

“You don’t mean anything... extreme, do you?”

“No, no, no... Nothing like that.”

“Ah... Good,” Sebastian responded, sounding reassured by your response as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You could feel his warmth seeping into you. Could he hear how loud your heart was around him? Hopefully not. “Office life in Zuzu City not as great as you hoped?”

You nodded. He knew you pretty well for someone you barely saw and communicated with. 

“Do you think I should quit?” you asked.

“That’s completely up to you. Don’t let yourself suffer too much.”

You laughed. What a Sebastian thing to say. The way he expressed that he cared wasn’t always through the traditional means and phrases.

“What about you then, Seb? Did you come here as a result of suffering too?”

Sebastian responded with a half shrug. “I usually hang out with my friends on a Friday night at the local pub, but something came up this week. Thought I’d take the chance to get away. I guess I am suffering from seeing you though.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed indignantly as you sat up straight.

Seb laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I’m suffering from seeing you looking so troubled.”

You offered him a smile. “How sweet of you.”

“I mean what I say, (Y/N).”

“I know.”

Staring at the distant lights, you thought about the photo your mom sent you. Stardew Valley. Your grandpa had left you his farm. A few years back when you first started working at Joja Corporation, you had opened the letter your grandpa addressed to you. Back then, you thought giving the office job a try would be an okay alternative. The farm now felt like a good alternative. 

This was a big decision though. You didn’t want to make a decision on the spot.

“Sebastian?”

The boy hummed in response.

“Have you ever been somewhere with someone and everything just feels... right?”

Sebastian stiffened as he turned to look at you. “Yeah... I have.” 

Your (E/C) eyes looked at him curiously. Then your brain finally finished processing what you just said out loud - that sounded like a confession. Your cheeks immediately heated up.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it that way - although, I do actually really like you, Seb.”

Your flustered response brought a rosy hue to the dark haired male’s face as well. Honestly, he thought you were absolutely adorable. Even in your most uncertain moments, he appreciated how honest you were. Interweaving your fingers together, he gently bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

Heart racing from the unexpected confession you expressed, you tried to reorganize your thoughts within your scrambled brain. Unable to look at Sebastian, you turned your gaze up to the night sky and gave his hand a little squeeze.

“I used to visit my grandpa a lot over summer break when I was young,” you began. “He passed away years ago, but I inherited his old farm. I’m just thinking, I move away from Zuzu City to live in the countryside. Have you ever heard of Pelican Town in Stardew Valley?”

Sebastian seemed to have frozen up when you mentioned Stardew Valley. 

“Yeah... I’m actually from Stardew.”

Wait - what?

You quickly turned to look at him. “Really?!”

He nodded. “Guess I never mentioned that to you. But if you think you really need a change of scenery from Zuzu City, Pelican Town is feels like a different world entirely.”

You thought back to the idyllic days you had spent with your grandpa in the past. Seb was right, it was so different from the world you were living in Zuzu City.

“I’m sure not everything is different,” you said, thinking out loud. A bright smile appeared on your face. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Getting to see how beautiful you were when you were truly happy made Sebastian want to see that stunning smile of your more often. He never would have thought this unexpected friendship to blossom into something more, but he truly cherished what he had with you. 

“I’ll be there,” he affirmed. He held up your joined hands. “I’d like to be here for you whenever you need it as well.”

 “I’d appreciate that,” you softly responded. 

Sitting with Sebastian with the night sky above you and the distance city lights twinkling in the distance, you finally felt a sense of hope for the future. Perhaps the change you were waiting for had been here all along. 

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're damn lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really did mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore." 

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him. 

"You…" 

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for what, exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt them?" Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me now of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

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

The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically hunt after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- Why?" they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I need to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

Sans.

The human has been calling him 'mister Serif' for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same. 

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

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And that's it for this week!

I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Blood of My Blood snippet

@secret-engima I will never get over this au, it’s too awesome.

.

“I thought you didn’t want a Shield.”

The question comes, hesitant and quiet enough that Sola could pretend not to hear it at all. Noctis’ gaze remains on his phone, on one of the games he used to play but hadn’t touched again until Prompto stumbled into his life.

Into Noctis’ Heart, but that’s Noctis’ detail to share in his own time.

Anyone else, Sola would tell them exactly where to shove that question. She’s heard it far too often from too many nobles, all with the same sneer in their voice and the disgusted affront radiating off them so strongly they didn’t need magic for Sola to know exactly what they were feeling.

Filthy-refugees-how-dare-

But this is Noctis, magic curling in curiosity and worry. Worry for Sola, worry that the choice wasn’t hers, worry for a bond that might have been forced and the damage that would do to both her and her Shield.

Sola lets the bobbin drop against the tapestry and joins Noctis on the couch. They’re in her suite, in the sitting room she turned into a workroom back when she’d been on extended medical leave and needed something to do with her hands. The couch hadn’t come until after Noctis returned, so her brother could have a place to hang out while she worked on her current tapestry.

Sola only asked once if Noctis was truly okay watching Sola work - weaving a tapestry isn’t the quickest process - instead of doing something else with Sola, but her brother had nodded and Sola had let it be. Noctis always brought something to do, a book or a game, or simply napped, and it didn’t take Sola long to realize Noctis just wanted some quiet time while in her presence.

It made her smile fondly when she figured it out. It was startlingly similar behavior to Abyssus.

“I didn’t at first,” Sola says once she’s made herself comfortable. This... is not going to be an easy conversation. Noctis lowers his phone, darkening the screen. “You’d just disappeared. Taking a Shield felt like giving up on you.” And there’s the familiar guilt welling up in Noctis’ magic. Nope, not right now. “There’s a reason the Council chambers needed a renovation, and it isn’t because Papa decided he disliked the decor. On an unrelated note, Lord Egestas hasn’t spoken to me since.”

She grins at Noctis’ hastily smothered snort. There’s a sharp swell of anger on her behalf, but it’s under the reluctant amusement so Sola will take it as a win. Distraction a success.

Sola isn’t a nice person and her humor reflects that; it’s vicious, vindictive, and at times crude. There are few things Noctis shares her amusement on, but Sola doesn’t mind. Her brother is so much kinder than Sola. Noctis truly sharing her sense of humor would mean he’d lost most of the kindness that makes him who he is. And that would break Sola’s heart.

Neither of them like Lord Egestas though. Which means Sola gets away with a lot more than Noctis would normally tolerate.

Now for the hard part. “‘A King needs his brothers.’”

“‘A Lucis Caelum needs their Retinue.’” Noctis finishes, amusement fading. Blue eyes turn distant, turn towards memory and Sola squeezes Noctis’ hand to keep him in the present.

Three years without his Retinue. Three years in the kind of hell that would shatter most people, without any anchors to ground himself.

Six, no wonder her brother had issues.

“Galahd calls it The Draconian’s Rage.” Sola says, closing her eyes against the ache in her chest as she recalls those days. This time, it’s Noctis who squeezes her hand, wrapping her in love-comfort-safety, I’m-here-I’m-here. “Without anyone to ground me... I lost it.”

Noctis closes his arms around her, tucking her against his side, and she still hasn’t wrapped her head around the fact that he’s taller than her now. But the comfort is more than the hurt of lost years. “How bad?”

“Aracheole isn’t there anymore.” Sola says dryly. She’s not going into the details. The details would only hurt.

Just as the details of Noctis’ horrors would only hurt her. Sola knows what she’s been told by Cor and Papa, and she’s inferred a few things from the changes in Noctis’ magic and behavior.

She doesn’t need to know more. She doesn’t want to know more. Not when there’s nothing she can do.

That Sola destroyed an entire stronghold to its foundations is enough for Noctis to get the picture. His arms tighten around her, magic shuddering in horror and dawning realization.

Sola shouldn’t have been able to blow a hole in Aracheole’s wall. For all her unique magical abilities, Sola has never had power.

Noctis isn’t the only one with more magic than he had before. Even if the sheer depth to his magic, that she can only ever glimpse when they’re alone and tangling their magic together in reassurance that they’re both there, makes Sola want to weep. Because Noctis’ magic is so much deeper than her new reserves and the thought of her little brother suffering through even more of that agony...

He never should have had to endure that.

“How far?” Noctis’s grip is bordering uncomfortable, clinging desperately to Sola and the warmth-reassurance Sola wraps around him like a blanket.

“The Wanderer.” Hundreds of years. It’s why she weaves so often. None of the kings and queens before her wove tapestries, never wove at all. It lets Sola distinguish her present from past memories, lets her box it away in the back of her mind.

Lets the flashbacks and nightmares be hers.

Noctis manages to suppress his flinch, but not the sharp sorrow and guilt that spikes through his magic. Sola pushes silent acceptance and reassurance at him. It was her choice to reach so far. And perhaps if Noctis hadn’t been missing, perhaps if he’d been safe back in Insomnia, perhaps then Sola would’ve stopped at the Oracle.

But Noctis wasn’t safe. And there’s very little Sola won’t do for her brother.

She doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

“When I woke, everyone let me know what they thought of that stunt.” Even Hestia Ostium, Libertus’ Chieftess, gave her a tongue-lashing over the grief Sola’s actions had inflicted on her then-boyfriend.

From the huff behind her, Noctis fully agrees with everyone’s actions.

Brat.

“I knew Axis was an Amicitia shortly after I met him.” Sola confesses. “But I didn’t want a Shield. He didn’t want to be a Shield. So we ignored it.”

“Until Aracheole.”

Sola hums in agreement. “Axis introduced me to his kids as Aunt Sola, and told me I wasn’t allowed to die on my new nieces and nephews. And that I was terrible at watching my own back so he was going to watch it for me. Then we bonded.”

Noctis blinks, skeptical. “Just like that?”

Sola huffs. “No. I had to be convinced taking a Shield did not mean I was giving up on you or resigning as your Sword. But the trust had been there for years. Nyx and Tredd and Luche too. Took all of three days to bond with everyone. Quickest Retinue ever assembled.”

Not counting the seven years before she bonded with her Retinue, but the history books don’t count that. Morons.

“And they’re all fine being bonded to a Lucian princess?” Noctis asks, bemused.

Sola smirks up at him. “Not Lucian, little brother.” She taps the four beads at the front of her Ostium Chief braids. The shifting green and purple Galahdite, the purple-black charoite, the blue pearl, and the golden yellow citrine. “As far as Galahd is concerned, I’m their Chief. Simple as that.”

Well, not quite that simple. But she doesn’t feel like rehashing the complicated mess of being Chief to another Chief, on top of sorting out how to allow her Retinue to remain in their own Clans instead of dragging them into the Ostium.

Ladon had suggested creating a new Clan, but Sola shot it down immediately. She likes being an Ostium. Sola proposed to her husband, and she’s not giving up his last name. And she didn’t want to force her Retinue to leave their Clans either.

They’d figured it out eventually. After a lot of yelling. And a fistfight. Or two. Sola refuses to count Hestia breaking Ladon’s nose. Even Tredd admitted Ladon deserved it.

Noctis considers this for a moment. “So long as you’re happy.” He decides.

“I am.”

[evangelinedanvers]

A Happier Season Part I/?

part 2

Abby chewed on her lip as she looked across the kitchen table at her girlfriend. She’d done so so often that now her lips were chapped, dry and prone to bleeding. Despite her worry, she had kept silent. Whatever was bothering Harper, she would tell her in her own time. 

The silence was palpable. Things hadn’t been right since they had both moved to be closer to Harper’s family.  Abby could tell something was wrong. Harper was definitely keeping something from her. She lowered her head. She really didn’t want to ask, but they couldn’t carry on in the denial that everything was fine. She couldn’t keep lying to herself. Harper would never be ready without a little pushing. With a heavy sigh, she lifted her head so that she could look into her fiance’s eyes. “Harper, what’s wrong? You’ve been distant ever since we moved. When you do talk I just feel like you’re mad at me. I’ve gone over and over in my mind and I can’t think of anything I could have done.”

For a moment, Harper’s eyes widened, but she soon recovered a calmer expression. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Her quick, clipped response suggested otherwise.

“Oh. Okay.” Abby shrugged, although she wasn’t about to just let the matter slide. The lie was disappointing. Every problem they had in their relationship had stemmed from Harper being too afraid to be honest. Her spoon, which had been gripped tightly in her fingers, clattered against the table. Breakfast had suddenly become very unappetising.  “I mean, I thought we’d learned a lesson around pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.” She shrugged again before mumbling, “If you think that’s best though, whatever.”

Harper’s brow furrowed. Abby felt soft, searching, eyes imploring her to let it go. Harper grabbed the edge of the table as it became clear that Abby wasn’t budging. Her grip made the tension she was feeling apparent. She couldn’t quite meet Abby’s eyes as she rushed out the thing that had been bothering her. “I don’t like that you’re spending so much time with Riley.”

Abby laughed, although it was quiet and full of sarcasm. “Excuse me. What?”

“We moved so that I could spend more time with my parents and sisters. Not so that you could spend more time with Riley.”

“So, what, I’m not allowed to have friends?” Abby shook her head. She’d been able to forgive a lot; able to understand some of Harper’s choices. However, controlling behaviour was something she would never tolerate. “What do you want me to do when you’re busy writing?”

Harper rolled her eyes. “You’re allowed to have friends, Abby. You just don’t need to be friends with my ex.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool. I get it. I’ll just go make some guy friends. Oh,” Abby paused, a finger in the air, as though a thought was only just occurring to her. “No, wait. You probably still fucked them too.”

Harper was silent, her lips parted slightly. The words had hurt her. It wasn’t a fair thing for Abby to say, and she knew that.

“Sorry.” Abby stood, getting ready to walk away from the argument. She knew she’d gone too far and didn’t want to make things any worse. “That wasn’t..” Embarrassed, she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that,” for a moment Harper buried her face in her hands, looking embarrassed by what she was about to say. “Riley likes you, okay? I feel like a teenager again even caring about that. Which is why I hadn’t said anything.”

“What? No,” Abby shook her head as a blush crept onto her face. “You’re wrong. Besides, I’m not, it doesn’t go both ways. I love you.”

“So, we agree?”

“Oh, no. No, we do not agree. Riley is literally my only friend here. Everyone else still thinks I’m a common criminal. Plus you’re my girlfriend, not my mom.” 

“Abby, I...please?”

“If you can’t trust me,” Abby twisted her engagement ring from her finger and threw it down onto the table. “Maybe we shouldn’t be getting married.”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, despite the tears that had begun to slowly trickle down her cheeks. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Hey,” Abby said softly. She’d never meant for that to happen. She’d never meant to make Harper cry. She was about to go to her, wipe her tears away with her thumb and tell her that she loved her and everything would be okay. She stopped herself, though. She couldn’t keep giving in every time Harper cried. “I’m going out.”

“Abby, wait. This is stupid. Please, just,” she picked up Abby’s ring and held it out to her. “At least put this back on. Please?”

“No. I’m done. I’m out.”

Riley hadn’t been expecting Abby to call her, but she certainly hadn’t been disappointed when her name flashed up on her screen. A few minutes later and she was sitting across from her in their usual haunt. Her eyes narrowed as she observed a tense Abby, who gripped her coffee mug so tightly that Riley was afraid it might shatter. Her red eyes also alerted Riley to the fact that Abby had been crying.

“I think this is probably a really stupid question,” Riley said as she dropped a cube of sugar into her black coffee and gave it a stir. She needed to do something with her hands. Anything to distract. Anything to stop her from grabbing Abby’s hands and telling her that whatever it was, it was okay. Whatever it was, she would fix it. No. She had to stay calm.  “Because the answer is very clearly no, but are you okay?”

Abby shook her head. “I think I just ended things with Harper,” she mumbled. 

“What?” Riley spluttered as she stopped stirring her coffee, although her fingers still gripped the spoon. “Why?” 

“Things have been off between us since we moved.” Abby shrugged. She looked tired. To Riley, she looked like someone who had simply given up. “Today I finally asked what’s going on and she insisted that I cut contact with you because apparently you like me. Which is obviously crazy.”

“Oh,” Riley nodded. “Yeah, totally. Totally crazy. Harper is just insane in the brain, alright.” She smiled, although it was really more of a grimace than a smile.

Abby nodded, then twisted her fingers together, something Riley had noticed she did a lot when anxious. “Do you forgive Harper?” Abby questioned, out of the blue. “For, you know, outing you to protect herself?”

Riley’s answer was immediate. “Yes. Absolutely. She was a teenager and she was scared. And, honestly? If it had been the other way around I don’t think I could say I wouldn’t have done the same. I’m gonna guess you don’t? For lying to you about her family, I mean.” “You wouldn’t have. I’m not sure whether I do or not. I thought I did.”

Riley chuckled. It was nice that Abby thought so much of her, but she had definitely grown a lot since her teenage years. Really, it was a shame that she found herself unable to say the same of Harper. “That’s nice that you think that, but you didn’t know me then.” She sighed. She was in a fight with herself, struggling to make sure that her words held no bias. “This is probably a super biased opinion, but how Harper treated you was wrong. She’s an adult now. To force you back into the closet without a word of warning was absolutely not okay. She had reasons, but reasons are not free passes to treat people you care about like crap. If you’re struggling to forgive her for that, it’s valid. You’re valid.”

“I thought I was over it,” Abby said slowly, obviously still processing how she felt, “but she still keeps things from me. I don’t think I can be with someone who won’t talk to me unless I force the point. That’s not how I roll.”

Riley nodded. Her expression was neutral, but then for a moment her brow furrowed, betraying the consternation that the conversation caused. “Abby, I don’t think I’m the best person for you to talk to about this.”

Abby didn’t speak, but raised her eyebrows, waiting for further explanation.

“Harper isn’t wrong.”

“Oh,” Abby said softly. “That complicates things”

“No, it doesn’t,” She blurted out, desperate not to lose Abby’s friendship.  “I can see how much you love Harper, I would never come between you two. I just can’t promise that any advice I give you isn’t tainted.”

“Oh, yeah. No, I get that. Fuck.” Abby rested her forehead in the palm of her hand.

“You good?”

Abby shook her head

“Do you need me to go?” “No. It’s just, you’re really the only friend I have here and, really, are you gonna wanna stick around to be just my friend?”

“Hey, hey.” she leaned across the table and grabbed Abby’s arm, gently pulling her hand away from her head, “Look at me. Yes, I am attracted to you. I am not, however, about to go home and start writing poetry about how heartbreaking it is to see you with another woman. Chill out.”

“Okay.” Abby chewed on her lip. “But what if I said it’s a mutual attraction. What if I said right now I want to, i don’t know, take you out to dinner right now. Wine, dine and sixty-nine.”

Riley had chosen an in opportune moment to take a sip of her coffee, and found herself choking on it a little as she heard Abby’s comment. “First of all, there will be no sixty-nining ever. Secondly, if that’s the best pick-up line you have, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Thirdly, no.”

“No?” Riley was sure that she heard disappointment in Abby’s voice, but it didn’t matter. 

“I actually value our friendship. Tomorrow you’d wake up, realise how much you love Harper and hate me for ever allowing you to jeopardize what you have with her. You’re not thinking clearly right now and I’m not taking advantage of that.” It was tempting though. So tempting.

“I was only kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.” Riley shook her head. “You’re angry and you’re looking for ways to act out. I am not that desperate.”

Abby shook her head “Maybe you’re half right, but I wouldn’t ever just use you. I do, uh. I am attracted to you.”

“Yeah? Who isn’t?” Riley asked, followed by a smirk.

“Straight women?” “Wrong.” Again, the smirk.

Abby smiled for the first time during the whole conversation. Riley wasn’t too sure whether Abby believed her or not, but it was nice to have an air of mystery.

“Hey, Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“While the sixty-nine is a hard no, I’m not opposed to wine, dine and supine. If things with you and Harper really don’t work out.” She was smiling, but her face fell as she realised Abby wasn’t wearing her ring. It had been nice to pretend for a moment, to tease. However, the missing ring made everything feel very real. “Abby, where’s your ring?”

“I was mad. I took it off when we were fighting.” She shrugged. “It was stupid.”

“Please don’t throw everything away over something so stupid. Don’t fight over me. I’m really, really not worth it.” Riley grabbed up her bag and rose quickly “I, I have to go. But call me, okay? Let me know,” her voice broke, but she cleared her throat and regained her composure, “let me know how things go.”

Riley felt like she couldn’t catch a breath as she left the cafeteria, moving as fast as she could. Once outside, she leaned against the wall of the place, trying to ground herself, trying to slow down her breathing. She tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

 For so long she’s refused to allow herself to be vulnerable. The way in which Harper had forced her to come out had left her unable to ever really trust anyone to allow for anything more than a one night stand. She didn’t let people in; she didn’t let people have the chance to stab her in the back. With Abby, she had a strong sense that she was going to end up hurt and it wouldn’t even be Abby’s fault. A happy ending in any capacity wasn’t on the horizon. She knew that. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to just walk away. As stupid as it might be, she felt a need to see their friendship through to it’s bloody end.

[blazehedgehog]

Thoughts on this current generation of consoles (PS5 and Series X/S)? How do you feel about them having SSDs? Do you think offering two versions of a console is a good business idea (physical/digital for Sony and Physical, more powerful/digital, less powerful for Microsoft)?

I mean, I don’t have either one, yet. I did not end up getting a stimulus payment like I was told that I would, and while I’m not exactly flat broke, I’m not in a position where I can drop $600 on a game console and feel comfortable about that.

SSDs are... whatever. It worries me that these consoles are always capturing video and what that’s arguably doing to hardware with a finite number of lifetime data reads and writes. Especially because, if I remember right, the PS5 SSD isn’t user servicable. If it dies, you have to pay a repair cost to send it to Sony. That’s aggravating.

I also still don’t really know if SSDs are so magical. I have a laptop with an SSD and it’s nice being able to turn the system on and have it booted in to Windows in under a minute flat, but it’s not, like, a hard-line requirement for operations, you know? Reducing loading times aren’t really something that’s high on my priority list.

Especially considering that, like...  I play a lot of Fortnite. I play on PS4, and I occasionally play with a friend who plays it on PC, where he has it installed to an SSD. His load times... aren’t really that much faster than mine. They can be, depending on the context, but in the case of an online game like Fortnite, you’re often waiting for the server to respond and send data. He loads back out to the menu way faster than I do, but when we’re connecting to a match, I think he’s only faster than I am by 2-5 seconds. Which to me is... pretty insignificant. Making it seem important feels like marketing smoke and mirrors to me, like how they kept “inventing” shaving razors with more blades.

Like, my PC doesn’t have an SSD in it yet, and does it bother me? Nope! Because I never turn my PC on and then instantly sit down at it. I wake up, turn the system on, and then go make breakfast and whatever. It takes my PC about 2-3 minutes to boot up, and it takes me a good 15-20 minutes to make breakfast, so by the time I’m ready to sit down everything’s been warmed up and ready to go for a very, very long time. Getting a faster load with an SSD isn’t going to offer a meaningful benefit to that experience.

I’m sure I’ll have friends pitching an SSD at me after reading that for other reasons, but I just feel like those people got spoiled by something they don’t actually need and now they’ve tricked themselves in to thinking they can’t live without it. I don’t even bat an eyelash at PS4 games with 20 second load times. Who cares? You aren’t going to be getting anything meaningful done in 20 seconds. “But it adds up” yeah but so does everything. You spent longer pooping than you did looking at loading screens. You’re not going to die waiting 22.8 seconds for a level to start, and it costs a lot of money to fix that minor inconvenience.

I don’t like the idea that they made the disc-based versions more expensive. That’s a very marketing way to nudge fence-sitters to adopt digital, when we’re having more and more examples of what going all-digital is going to do to our libraries of content. We lost hundreds of WiiWare titles and are about to lose hundreds (possibly even thousands) more when Sony locks down the PS3, PSP and PS Vita servers.

I get it, digital is convenient and takes up less space, but you aren’t as protected digitally. Did you know that I lost my entire library of 25+ Google Movies because of a change Google made to “Brand Accounts”?

There’s very little I can do about it. Because ten years ago Google+ made me define my personal account as a “Brand Account,” now Google gets to take away every movie and TV show I own through them. I can still technically watch them if I switch to my “real name” (which is the same account, but also a different account, for some reason), but then I can’t access my subscriptions feed or favorites list. 

And stupid garbage like this just happens with digital content, because there’s nothing you physically hold in your hands. You are at the whims of however they allow you to access what is ostensibly THEIR data, and that includes taking away your ability to access that data entirely. You can protest that, I guess, but that won’t change the fact that your ownership means very little to them.

And it’s only going to get worse from here. It won’t make them care any more than they already do. Just like charging for online features that are free on other platforms, they will find the minimum acceptable threshold for your frustration tolerance and they will still figure out how to make you do things their way. They will put you in a position where 99% of your library is digital and by the time there’s a problem you’re already too deep to back out.  And then it just becomes “an unfortunate symptom of business” that people blindly swallow because they’ve never known anything better.

So when I say, “there is no way I feel comfortable dropping $600 on a game console right now”, that’s because I will only buy these things if they include the disc drive because I will hold on to that thing for as long as I humanly can.

By which I mean: in 2028, when the Playstation 6 arrives, it’s going to be a tiny little Chromecast puck you put behind your TV and I will be laughed out of the room for wanting a disc drive. That already happens whenever I tell people I still have a disc drive in my PC that I need to replace. Physical media?! Everything should be ephemeral!

Needless to say, I don’t like it, and I don’t feel like there’s anything that can be done about it. I’m only considering buying the new consoles because I kind of have to, to stay “relevant.”

[villainousunsub]

u wanted prompts...u getting them. Please could i have Supercat and quarantine. so like Kara has some sort of alien virus and its like lethal to humans so she has to stay in like a plastic bubble in the DEO and it affects Kara, deeply. but also maybe include, happy surpirse reunions?

that sounds vaguely threatening, i love it

Something felt different, as if the office was missing something huge but Cat couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Cat sat down at her desk, reaching for the coffee that was always placed on the coaster Carter had made in 3rd grade, but when she closed her fist she came up empty. Her brows crinkled in confusion. Kara never missed a day, even if she was out getting a story she informed whatever assistant Cat had hired that they needed to grab her a coffee for the morning. 

Cat fired her assistant as soon as they brought in her now lukewarm coffee. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that dropped further and further as the day went on. Cat had texted and called Kara over a dozen times with no answer, Kara’s office was empty and she had no pending stories. It didn’t seem right, but Cat knew better than to pry into Kara (who was definitely not the girl of steel, but they both knew Cat was well aware of the “secret” identity). 

Night fell, the office cleared out, and Cat was left alone with her wall of screens screaming that Supergirl was missing. 

Kara watched as her screen lit up for the 100th time, she still didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed anything but DEO issued clothes while she had to quarantine, but she was too tired to fight them. She rested her hands on her stomach as she felt it gurgle before grumbling loudly. Sometimes the DEO was not great at remembering to feed those who ate more than 3 meals a day. 

“I bring snacks and bad news.” Alex slid the tray of food through the metal safety box and took a seat on one of the stools located next to Kara’s bubble. 

“You brought only my favorites...Alex what’s wrong?” 

“Until we can kill the virus completely, you are going to have to stay in the isolation bubble.” Kara tilted her head to the side and waited for Alex to hit the worst part, “While here, we are going to have to keep you in complete darkness. From what we can tell this thing grows and spreads with light of any kind. I’m sorry Kara, this is going to be a rough possible couple weeks.” 

“Weeks!”

“Kara-”

“Please Alex you know I can’t do this. You can’t leave me here in the dark. Alex please,” Tears rolled freely down Kara’s face, the pain in her voice shattering Alex’s heart. 

“I promise I will try and get you out of here as soon as I can.” 

When the doors shut behind Alex, leaving the room in complete darkness, Kara let herself breakdown. She missed the soft glow of incoming text and calls from her phone, the sliver of light that used to pour out from the doors, and yet she was subject to days upon weeks of total darkness. Kara pulled her knees in tight, slowly rocking back and forth on the padded floor of her new home. 

The only thing keeping her sane was an agent who dropped by every so often to provide her with food and water. It was a small reminder that she wasn’t stuck in space alone again, that she had people working on letting her out of her prison. The thoughts and fears still creeped inside her when she slept, whispering thoughts of never getting out, of being stuck once again. So, Kara stopped sleeping. 

Voices echoed in the bubble around her, egging her to break the seal and leave. Kara could feel her body growing weaker without the sun to replenish her strength. Her mind created images of life, or what could be, the longer she went without sleeping. Her nightmares played out in front of her eyes while she was wide awake, making it feel all too real. 

A favorite of her tortured mind played repeatedly. 

Home. She was finally home. Carter laid on the puff white couch in the living room, book in hand as music drifted from his headphones. Kara could hear Cat on the phone a few rooms down in the study, yelling at one of the new directors about that week's spread. It all felt perfect, as though it was always meant to be. 

Kara turned to her laptop, which was sitting on the island next to a cup of tea and a plate of sweets. News reports covered the screen, each one detailing the fall of Earth’s mightiest hero. Her heart started to race as she read article after article explaining the downfall and death of Supergirl. Kara looked down at her clothes, to find that her arms were covered in burns and suit barely held together by strips of fabric. 

A broken hiccup from down the hall broke Kara’s personal panic. When Kara slid through the cracked opening, she was met with a resemblance of what was once Cat Grant. Cat was curled into the side of her chair, a bottle of almost empty scotch nestled into her chest as she swiped through her phone, hoping that one day the photos would give way to the flesh and blood of Kara. 

She reached out a hand and the room slipped through her fingers, bathing her in darkness once more. Kara let her head bounce against the wall of her confinement, she had lost count of the days she had been forced to rewatch the same nightmares play out in front of her. Her body was tired and begging for sleep, Kara let her eyes droop shut knowing that she was about to be drowned in fear. 

A sharp pinch in her arms brought her on the brink of reality but her eyes refused to open. Cold hands placed a sticky bandage where Kara had felt the pinch, a light murmuring was above her but still her eyes would not budge. She could feel movement and then air, they were moving her out of the bubble and into the world again. Happiness flooded through her veins, but her body remained limp. 

Warmth enveloped her body in a constant wave of embrace, Kara could hear people talking in the distance and the sound of chairs and computers typing but her mind created images of what could be instead of letting her see what was. Calloused hands brushed her hair back and held her hand tight, wet droplets splashed against her forearm, and even though she wanted to wipe what she thought were tears away, her arms laid heavy at her side. 

“She has been like this since we brought her out. Vitals are normal, she has been getting constant sun, but she won’t wake up.” The whisper of Alex’s voice struck Kara hard, she wanted to scream that she was there, that she wanted to wake up, but nothing happened.  Smooth hands captured Kara’s, and a voice like heaven boomed loud in her ears. 

“Kara wake up. I will not tolerate you laying here while everyone busts their ass for you. Wake up dammit.” The sniffle was soft, a hand let go for a moment and came back damp along one finger, “You can’t leave me without saying goodbye. Do you understand me? I get at least one more night with you, image be damned I am not losing you without being able to love you first. So open those stunning blues and say you love me too.”

“I love you too.” Her own voice sounded foreign, but she was certain that it was her own. A smile slowly and painfully started to form, “I love you too.” 

[blankdblank]

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 26

Five feet off the ground in a grand jete you could catch the sliver of light backstage hinting that another person had snuck into your set. All week among the other cast members from Elektra Jennifer Garner took to watching your dance numbers thrilled to see just how talented the littlest of the extras actually was off set. For Daredevil in café’s you had been building some interest as a stray kitten had taken to you. A slipped pet here and at the first roll of thunder the kitten came onto set through the fake street and into the café luring attention from the other extras and main pair of actors at its trot to your costumed self to climb to your shoulder and burrow in your hair. Spending each day since following you about until you took it home to the ranch with you to keep it safe.

Hours you had been here and this was the third number you had filmed, out of the eight numbers you were doing well on time and were due for another before being sent home for the others to film their roles on the secondary sets. Again Richard was in the audience, merely with a camera aimed at him recording his reactions while his gangly self ‘snuck’ into the shows that the ringmaster would end each number by shouting at you.

Changing again you sat on your makeup chair pressing your thumbs into the sides of your left hamstring feeling the same twinge you had felt for the past two days. Inches from tearing your muscle the filming of your non dance scenes in the first half of the film had been recorded after a slipped chord from a fight scene for Elektra had you on the verge of tears and on a crutch to rest your leg. The doctor had cleared you to work, unlike the other stunt man who fractured his collar bone when his wiring failed as well. For what you loved about the film the endless strain of the ballet side of this had you deciding that your last touring show for ballet was just that, your last. Another film could be tolerated but the endless weeks of shows would have to stop if it could end up weakening your body in other roles requiring you to be at your peak.

Everything hurt but with a helping of some heating cream the muscle loosened up and you were able to complete the day. Once changed however if your decision hadn’t already been made you felt relieved to find a voicemail on your phone from your grandparents hoping that you would focus on films before you did face an injury like your grandfather had nearly lost his own career to. They fully agreed dance films were acceptable but the near possible break or worse to your leg had them rethinking their plans for you knowing the pain of those injuries all too well.

Wrapped with a heating pad and elevated in an empty chair the leg rested while you watched Richard and your father pull dinner together. Again Richard glanced your way asking, “Feeling better?”

“Little bit. Oh, I got a call earlier.” That had the pair looking your way, “Babu and Babushka about my leg, suggesting I retire from performing ballet.”

Your Father settled a hand on the counter, “Wow. Never thought I’d hear that.”

You shrugged, “They remember their own injuries and with it being my lower leg that could have been worse they think it best if I stick to ballet films and not full touring shows.”

Richard, “Are you okay with that?”

You nodded, “Funny thing is I was thinking it through the morning, and then on lunch I got the message.”

Your father nodded, “Have you called them back?”

“Not yet, no they said they had to be up early for a fundraiser. I’ll call them on their tomorrow at a reasonable hour.”

Richard nodded and asked, “Any word from Lee yet?”

“Uh, nope, after that screen test thing he said he was off to the airport.”

Your father asked, “To where?”

You shrugged, “No clue. He is a man of mystery this month and up to something. I hope it’s a role ‘cuz he’s been a bit, not off but just, distant I guess since hearing about the filming here.”

Richard chuckled saying, “My guess being he’s planning on visiting. Oklahoma’s not far, right?”

Your father shook his head, “Bout half a day drive depending on how far you want to go. Does he know where we live?”

“I, don’t know. Think so, he mentioned sending a snow globe or something.”

Your father chuckled and said, “We’ll keep an eye open for any teens lurking about.”

.

While days were spent filming nights were all your own. A special request while word you had worked with Howard Shore in the last minute drop of the uncooperative sound crew you were hired. Now on top of acting, singing, playing the violin and dancing lead the score was now yours. Though it didn’t come out of nowhere as you had provided the music for the dance numbers while in the first rehearsals before filming when the former crew had all but refused to grant the director anything to work with beyond a metronome beat. Just like before hums were not foreign on set and even Richard found himself joining in while you kept notepad on hand to write down all you had popping into your head.

Distraction was needed while word spread that Daredevil would be split into two films, one for him and another for Elektra and there was so much doubt on how little your part would be dwindled to if visible at all. Alternating day and night shoots often found you here in the music room, up with violin in hand or at the piano playing to a cassette recorder singing along the words you came up with. In Russian, French and Gaelic you would sing with a fourth you hummed, both operatic and lullabies to barely over a whisper. Each helped through with lyrics by Richard and your father when hearing you were stuck.

The best song though, the one you loved came out like air and sent chills down the spines of all who heard it on the business side of the film beside the beaming Director, even in the rough cut needed to be rerecorded in an actual studio. Down Below, My Bedfellow, the name of the soaring signature song played in your ride away to the new future at the end of the film. A duet with Richard he worked his way into by bringing over his cello he had sent for from England weeks prior to sit up and play with you, adoringly filling in more blanks on the song from his own heart. More time, that was what it was, even when joined in on by your father who copied note for note the song as you wrote it notes and all, simply beaming at the love song dripping with the love and adoration you shared on and off the screen. Soon enough it all was re-recorded in studio topped off with a full choir your family was all to eager to join to bring your project to life alongside the full orchestra to fill in the rest of the score as well led by you.

All this while you were given more snippets in Daredevil, even to the point where you were in the background at the big fancy party right before Elektra’s father is killed. Fittings for that however put your groggy humming self in the path of Colin Farrell alongside another for your stewardess costume, an extra role making you a blonde and granting you a couple lines at least confirmation by the Director you would not be cut at least entirely from the division of the original film. Also confirming that in said groggy interactions with Colin you had made another friend who was altogether impressed on how you could go from napping to bright eyed and bubbly for the action call at the drop of a hat. A friendship ending with a trading of emails, due to his frequency of changing his number, when schedules split you up again making lunches or dinners as a group were impossible to manage.

.

Sure enough while you received the third call of the day concerning the About A Boy premier the next day the doorbell had your head tilting to the door that your father had stood up from his place reading on the couch while Richard toweled off from his shower to wash off the makeup from his neck and face. “Oh man.” The words had you smirking but not as much as the voice saying them.

Softly you sighed hearing the voice through the phone still speaking to another in the room for the third try to somehow argue that you would somehow be able to fly out to England and make the premier anyways starting in ten hours. They hung up promising to work some magic making you roll your eyes and toss your phone onto the couch by your feet to lay your arms over your face tilting your head back a moment onto the arm of the chair you were lounging in after work. “Long day?”

Easing your arms down your head turned in your lifting twist to stand up for a hug from Lee, who melted around you, “There you are, trying to be all sneaky.”

“Hey,” he said pulling back, “How else am I supposed to keep you on your toes?” After stealing a glance at your father on his way to the kitchen, he whispered, “You never said he was so big, and your uncles are all the same size, went to the big house first and they sent me here.”

“Well they won’t eat you.” You giggled out making him smile wider at you, “You drove all the way here?”

“Yes, only have a week off,”

Your father came back with handfuls of sodas he passed one each to the two of you and sat down again in his former spot luring Lee to sit on the end near your chair, “Good, if you need a place to crash you are welcome here. Got the spare Murphy bed in the office.” Glancing your way he opened his soda asking, “Everything alright on the phone Pumpkin?”

“Ah, just someone trying to reverse the rotation of the earth so I could somehow make a flight to London and be there for the premier in ten hours while also being on set tomorrow out here. Said they’d work some magic.”

Lee chuckled asking, “Which premier is this one?”

“The one with Hugh Grant, About A Boy, I’m just one of the random single moms he dates there barely a week I doubt I’ll be a huge blip on screen. Anyways there’s one in New  York in two weeks if they insist while I’m off out there for the Enough film with Jennifer Lopez.”

Lee, “You’re working, how could they be mad for you missing it?”

You shrugged again taping your nail on the top of your soda, “Who knows. Highly doubt I could have any significant chunk of the film with a week of footage. I mean, there’s Hugh, the kid, the kid’s mom and a future girlfriend, Rachel something. That’s the main cast. Love interest number four, can’t be that-,”

Richard came out and smirked patting Lee’s shoulder, “Had a hunch you were dropping in on us.”

Lee grinned at his move to claim your soda and open it for you, to spare your fake nails still on from the set, then pass it back on his way to get a drink himself and sit down between Lee and your father. “How could I miss a chance to see you guys again. And I do have to say,” looking at you he said pointing at you, “I’ve seen Lord of the Rings five times. Can’t help it and can’t wait for it to be out on tape.”

Richard chuckled, “You and me both, and eventually there will be an extended cut edition as well with extra scenes I am waiting for.”

Lee smiled at you asking, “How is filming going? Leg better?”

“Yes, much better. Filming is good, another week left.”

Lee wet his lips asking, “When is it out?”

“Early next year. Certainly be a film to add to my books.”

Lee chuckled, “Hey, I played burlesque dancer, so, not that odd of a choice.”

You nodded giggling, “Oh yes, ballet dancing Selkie.”

Your father said in your sip on the soda, “Certainly original.” Making you smile lowering the can.

.

“You are coming?” rolled onto your side your eyes cracked open registering Jennifer Lopez’ voice.

“This about the premier?”

“Ya, you had that job but you’ll be off then, right?”

“Yup, just flew into New  York last night.”

A sharp exhale sounded through the line as your face settled into your mattress while Richard shifted to rest his head on your back cuddling closer again refusing to miss a moment of your final week together before he was due back in England. “Oh that’s good. How’d your flight go?”

“More of a rollercoaster than a flight. All bumps and then there was some hail, had to land in Tennessee and wait two hours to continue on to New York.”

“Oh that sucks,”

“Not really they have nice ribs there. How’s it with you? Heard you had a tv thing, Letterman?”

She chuckled, “Yes, been crazy with the press for this thing, but work is work. When are you doing press for yours?”

“If I do, maybe the winter. Which winter in Russia should be lovely. Have to enjoy sweater weather.” Making her chuckle again.

“Yes, yes you do.” After a moment she asked, “I heard something, you, don’t have an agent yet?”

“No, agent’s want money and I don’t get paid for last year’s work for another couple months until the first film is out of theaters and the others staggered for the same.”

“You don’t have any money, like, at all?”

Weakly you chuckled replying, “My rent is paid through the year, cash saved for my phone and food, just don’t have retainer fees level cash. Rich’s agent though tends to share what he hears about me for London work.”

“Like for couple jobs?”

“Not yet, but that’s what he’s aiming for. People there know I know him so I helps to draw attention to Rich too.”

To the continued use of his name he pressed a kiss into your back and nestled closer lifting the covers to help fight the next draft blowing through the apartment. “That’s good. I just want you to do well.”

“I know, thank you for that. I got people, just not big people. Tons of tips flow my way.”

You could almost hear her smirk in asking, “You got people?”

“I got people. Everybody has ears Jen.”

“Oh I know that. Always gotta be careful what you say and to who.” Making you smirk as she missed your point meant to mean that your latest tips had come from a delivery guy you went to school with who fired you a message for what the latest job he went to was looking for in a female lead. It was an interesting part but the request of swallowing a live octopus for the audition had you tapping out when they insisted it was the big marker for the female lead you were assured to be perfect for.

“Yes, from what I hear I do have to ask how is your fifth love child with your seventh fiancé?” Making her laugh at the combination of all the titles in the gossip rags, “I do hope I’m invited to this wedding you’ve skipped me for the last three.”

“I promise you, I get married you will be right up front… Hmm?” She asked someone else near her who said something making her pause to say, “I gotta go hun, but I will see you on the red carpet.”

“Yes you will, have fun.”

“I will, you too hun. Bye, Bye.” Hanging up allowing you to set down your phone and sigh settling back into your mattress.

Behind you Richard rumbled groggily, “You missed the best part sharing your people bring the best snacks.”

In a giggle you rolled over and he eased you down with a loop of his arm around your side planting his lips warmly on yours, “Some people don’t realize how helpful delivery guys can be for big tippers and old schoolmates.” Claiming another kiss then settling your forehead against his to get a bit more sleep with your still drowsy teddy bear clinging tight to you.

.

Clad in a simple indigo velvet short sleeved dress over black tights and your glittery heeled ankle boots you stood fixing your hair into a ponytail as Richard fashioned his tie. Nice and simple you dressed for the About a Boy premier and shouldered your phone to fix your mascara answering the call confirming the car sent for you was downstairs. It had been relentless with several confirmations this week you were indeed free and shouldering the crème clutch with cute accenting folds in the fabric over the top flap. Right off Richard claimed your hand locking up to walk with you to walk down to the car. With a grin you kindly greeted the driver who looked you over then flashed an awkward grin to Richard who shook that off and climbed in after you keeping hold of your hand.

Everyone you seemed to talk to shared a sense of relief. Hugh especially once Rachel, who you hadn’t met on set had come to greet you after having heard about you, came to greet you, leaving an interview to do so. “There you are,”

“Why do I feel like I’m in the Principal’s office?”

To that he chuckled and shook his head patting your arm, “Not at all. Simply, we heard you were working on another international film.”

“Yes, sorry, it was the last week of filming. I didn’t think you would miss me at the premier.”

“Miss, how could we not miss you?” His gaze shifted to Richard who was now grinning to himself and his hand outstretched, “I’m sorry, where are my manners, Hugh.”

“Richard,” naming himself in their hand shake that dropped to Hugh’s mouth opening.

“Richard, yes, Jaqi talks about you nonstop.”

“Not nonstop,” you replied bashfully.

Hugh nodded teasing you, “Yes non stop, often had to stop her on set forgetting her lines and gushing about her handsome Mate she couldn’t wait to get home to.” Hugh’s name was called and he said grinning at you both, “See you inside, have to go and keep talking about myself.” Turning to his interview again leaving you to be met by Nicholas and Toni, the mom and son in the film you spent so much of your blip with.

Nicholas hurried over and drew a giggle from you in his tight hug, “You’re here! They said you were working on a film!”

“Finished that last week, sorry,” Toni folded around you in the hug you patted her side on at the extent your arm could reach, “Hey Toni. It really couldn’t have been that bad.”

Sighing back her answer she said, “We missed you. Wasn’t the same without you. It’s a great film. You’ll love it.”

Nicholas said, “You did very well, bit odd hearing you without the accent though.”

His eyes shifted to Richard making you say in an adorable pat on his middle making him smile adoringly at you, “Oh, yes, this is Richard.”

Toni drew in a breath, “Richard! Of course!”

“I was not that bad.” You muttered making him chuckle through her handshake seeing you brush your curled bangs from your face.

Toni said, “Of course not,” then nodded to Richard who chuckled again easing his arm around your back at the group of aids hoping to move you onwards.

Walls of flashes captured your pose snuggled at his side resting your hands over his on your middle, later to be taken as a sign to hide a possible bit of jewelry on a certain finger before you were pulled aside for a brief interview followed by your rejoining Richard to head inside. Lowly in the dark of the theater leaned in you whispered to yourself, “It’s a decent part.” Not for the quality but how big your role was, not just another love interest but one of the connecting characters to blend his dating life into meeting the mom and son eventually becoming a family to Hugh’s character. On top of your lap Richard’s hand folded knowing you felt bad for missing the premier for your blip of filming that somehow now was irreplaceable if cut out to make the plot work how it did.

One after party somehow led to an interview from the magazine and papers at the first premier with that duo of writers eager to complete the cast interviews that was fully grateful you agreed to complete the full set. You guessed it had to be the management of the film who had shared the news because everyone knew you were working on some international film that they now were dying to see what had kept you from the suspected successful hit of a film with such a big star in the lead and amazing actresses to boot.

Unique was the word you used to describe the film hoping to not drive people off by describing it and thrilled to the core Richard, who was seated beside you got a snippet and a few questions as well he wondered how it would play out into this article. Either way he was excited to see if they would make the cut and if so what others would say on what was printed. Keeping you close through to your walk back up to your apartment again parting only to change and drop into bed to sleep before his flight the next day.

.

Cutouts of the articles on the film were added to your collection and in a long sleeved grey dress over black tights and the same glittery heels you were ready for the premier of Enough. This one you knew for a fact to be a blip yet all the same again you went and smiled for the pictures both alone and in the group picture for the full cast two seats from the aisle you were seated and in a slip out to avoid the first beating scene you went to the toilet. Leaned up against the wall you pulled out your phone needing a distraction for a few minutes and at the voicemail notification you clicked on it and listened to Peter’s voice playing over the line.

The simple reminder for your flight date and travel information came with his adding, “Gimli, I can’t wait for you to be out here again I have something I wanted to speak to you about. Just, uh, call me back when you get this and confirm you’ll be here on time, or hopefully your on time which is a few days early. Stay safe, Gimli, love you and hear from you soon.”

Quickly you dialed back flashing a grin to the woman washing her hands as you walked to the other end of the room. “Hey Peter, out in New York, I know I’m written as flying out in two weeks but Dad flew in last night and we got a good deal to fly in a week early if that’s good for you. I gotta get back, but, love you, see you in a couple days when we land. Bye.” Hanging up you stuck out your tongue a moment fighting the feeling it had tried to stick to the roof of your mouth and went back to find your seat again.

Domestic abuse films were never easy for you to sit through, you hadn’t faced it personally but a woman you used to work with and one of your friends in High School nearly didn’t make it to graduation for how bad their home situation got. All the same Jennifer played it well and even though it was a bit predictable that Slim would choose to kill her husband it was still a good film and although a bit deflated you still went to the after party to try and perk up again before heading home to sleep.

.

Straight across the headlines on the paper you took with you to the airport had the new cast of King Kong to begin filming in the next year. Devouring each detail you read through the article mainly telling you what you already knew of Peter’s devotion to the hope of one day filming King Kong. He had miniatures and even a script from a try years prior he shelved to work on Lord of the Rings when things didn’t work out. Colin Hanks, Jack Black, Adrian Brody and Naomi Watts were among the names you could recognize alongside Jamie Bell and Andy Serkis, the rest were vaguely hinting to possible actors the names belonged to.

While all your mind could circle on was the listed story of Ann Darrow’s life, a down and out girl working Vaudeville to try and survive the Great Depression hoping to one day work with her favorite writer who ends up on the adventure of a lifetime. The quote from Peter stating her as a girl from the big harsh city of New York, naïve with a strength she wasn’t aware of yet to be tested soon. Remembering Naomi from The Ring you couldn’t help but be a little hurt for losing the role no doubt you wouldn’t have gotten anyways. Sure as it was being filmed in New Zealand this would be another extra role film for you. And you supposed in your turn to the side to take a nap after tucking away your paper and curling around your father’s arm that this would be another epic that would leave you far from noticed on screen for the work you put into it.

Pt 27

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea ​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm (Hobbit x oc)

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Footie 7

previously on Footie

By the time the the skies cleared, the world warmed and shook off the rust that accumulated during the long, wet winter. Gone were the obscenely heavy and low clouds, and in their place, puffy white things lazily drifted along while the chill in the air lessened with new sunlight streaming through fresh leaf growth on winter-blown branches. 

The streets were fresh, the people alive and streaming out into them with new vigor to chase the first hints of warmth and yellow sunshine on their cheeks and faces, an entire city with their eyes tilted upwards, sighing happily and distracted from real life with moments of humanity peppered back from the dismal sorrow of the autumn months. 

It was a beautiful spring. It was going to be one for the books, with flowers filling sidewalks and spilling out from cracks in sidewalk. 

There wasn’t a set schedule, or at least one that kept for very long. But there was a rhythm to the day, even without a harmony. It was impossible to keep up with everything, but Clarke realized she was just going to have to live her life a week at a time. 

Lexa had her own routine, made even more difficult by travel. While Clarke found herself making her way to Lexa’s place between games and training and her own school assignments and workdays. 

But it worked. The timing of it all, of the season and the year and the life-- it all just seemed to completely work. And for reasons not completely explored, Clarke realized she appreciated the timing of it all because it meant that Lexa wasn’t around and she could take it slow, something her mind just didn’t think about near her. 

“She looks good out there today,” Jake nodded as he reclined, coming over a cold that left him mildly irritated by almost anything. 

If anyone was not built to grow old, it was Jacob Griffin, head coach and Hall-of-Famer. Surly and annoyed by the inconvenience of illness, he grunted and watched the game with the same vigor as someone who was still coaching. 

“She always looks good,” Clarke smiled slightly as she continued to balance her gradebook for the semester so far. 

“I mean she’s really putting work in. The team’s at the top of the board and I think they have a good enough chance of staying there to win.”

“Lexa’s so precise and focused. It’s oddly contagious.” 

“I have some good news for the Olympics.” 

“What’s that? You’re going to get the permission to come?” 

“Better. That’s the way!” he cheered as Lexa took a shot from deep, burying it deep in the net for the first goal of the scoreless half. “Hell of a shot.” 

“It’s me. I’m lucky in this jersey.” 

“That must be it.” Clarke watched her father chuckle at the notion before shaking his head and leaning forward to watch the replay a little better. Gone was the deep wheat-color of his hair and now it was replaced with a little more salt. He was still fit, perhaps more gaunt than before because of the treatment. Deep beneath it all, a bit of life still existed despite all else. 

“So what else was it? You’re coming to Tokyo?” 

“I was invited to commentate.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, seriously,” he rolled his eyes, his good mood coming around despite how he felt. “Some people still like to listen to me.” 

“I can’t relate.” 

“I can’t believe they’re going to let me commentate. I have to practice being impartial. How am I going to root for Lexa and the home team but not actually root for anyone?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Clarke scoffed. “Any chance for you to talk about soccer nonstop, and you won’t be able to shut up let alone root for anyone.”

“That’s true,” he nodded. 

“Are you going to be good to go?” 

“I think so. Other than this cold, I’ve been doing well. Plus, after the clips of me and Lexa went viral-- is that the word?” he waited until his daugher nodded. “Once that happened, I got a lot of emails with different offers.” 

“Mom’s okay with it?” 

“She encouraged it.” 

“Must be sick of you just laying around the house.” 

“Or she really wants to go to Japan.” 

Clarke found herself smiling, happy that her father sounded happy despite his annoyances. She was grateful to have a new appreciation for his love of the sport. They sat on the couch together, and Clarke leaned against her father’s side. He put an arm around her and started to couch coach well into the second half. 

In a completely different city, Lexa sprinted across the field, her footwork weaving the ball through three defenders before she got the shot off to the top right corner. With a punch to the air, she slid on the grass and was adored by teammates and cheered by the stadium. 

There was something poetic about watching someone do something that brought joy to the universe. Lexa was often the first person to diminish what she did, but she couldn’t see this part, the part that Clarke saw when she watched her father disect a play, or when the player on the field disappeared and floated, not one ounce of focus to be spared for anything else other than breathing and scoring, and even then the brainpower reserved for breathing was minimal. An entire brain worked to score, to move, to be precise and exact. 

Clarke smiled as she watched, proud of her girlfriend, proud of the girl who bashfully asked her out and now, who she was finding was awfully silly and very smart and quiet. If she wasn’t mistaken, sh might have even guessed that she loved the soccer player. 

“I’m going to meet Lexa’s sister,” Clarke muttered. “And her niece.” 

“When are they coming?” 

“Next week, for finals.” 

“Well, you’ve been dating for nearly a year now. Might as well as get it over with, right?” 

“I’ve never met anyone’s family.” 

“It’s not that bad. You’re a good person. Anyone would be lucky to have you date their sister or daughter or aunt or granddaughter or neighbor.” 

“You have to say that.” 

“I do,” he agreed, squeezing her shoulder. “But I also mean it.”

“I like her a lot.” 

“I figured.” 

“I don’t know if we’ve self-determined things, but I thought it was a joke, when we said it was fate, but I don’t know. Sometimes I think it is.” 

“Everything is a bit of fate, Clarke. At least the big things in life,” Jake explained, as if it was something he remembered he should have taught his daughter long ago. “Good or bad or indifferent. You and Lexa orbited each other, and then BAM, you can barely remember life without her.” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

“It’s not a bad thing, to spend your life with someone else.” 

“You just really want me to date her because she’s a soccer goddess.” 

“It doesn’t hurt.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes and clapped as Lexa got a foul, righting herself quickly and preparing to take her kick, all business, hair stuck to her forehead and neck, body drenched with sweat. It wasn’t even a game she had to win, but still demanded to play. 

“They’re going to love you, darling,” the coach promised again after the shot went wide by a few inches and the camera flashed back to Lexa’s tight jaw and groan of complaint for failing to score again. 

“Thanks.” 

“Now tell me I’m going to do a good job as an announcer.” 

“You can’t ask for reassurance like that. You’re Jake fucking Griffin.” 

“You’re right.” 

“But you’re going to do great. I already know it. I can’t wait to watch you and Lexa.” 

“I have to start preparing, watching older footage, scouting players-- there’s a whole slew of things to make sure I know the most.” 

“I’m not going to help you study. I get my fill of soccer with that one,” Clarke decided as she nudged her chin at the screen. 

“Speaking of, is she going to offer me tickets to the championship or do I have to outright ask?” 

“Dad, seriously?” 

Jake just shrugged and took a sip of his secret beer, grinning to himself. In moments like this he found himself almost tolerant of cancer. Almost. Because he wasn’t sure he’d ever spent so much time with his daughter, and here they were, watching a game and talking about things of substance, of fears and frustrations and goals and victories. It was moments like that, in which he could almost respect fate. Almost. 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“I’m so happy you’re here. It’s not even funny,” Lexa grinned, silly and happy in the beautiful day. 

There was a kid on her shoulders, hands beneath her chin, surveying the world from the perch. Her sister walked beside her, enjoying the spring sunshine and the feeling of her sister showing her around a city she’d never been to before. 

“Not because you just won the championship three days ago or because you’re set to fly back with us for training camp?” 

“Or because of the ice cream?” Mia added helpfully. 

“Maybe a little the ice cream,” she nodded and took another lick of her cone. 

It’d been a whirlwind of two weeks, and for the first time, Lexa felt as if she could finally breathe. Gone were the nerves of playing on such a large stage. Gone was the unsettled feeling that came from traveling so much. Gone was the weight of an entire city on her shoulders and it allowed her to inhale and hold it before slowly exhaling, savoring the warmth of the day and the aura of the street. 

“She’s absolutely in love with this place,” Anya observed as she watched her daughter taking in all of the sights. 

“You’ll have to come visit me more, how does that sound, Mia-Girl?” 

“I’m not allowed to fly on a plane alone.” 

“I guess your mom can come too.” 

“Are we going to watch more soccer?” 

The sun began to set behind the buildings, while a few people recognized the athlete, interrupting to ask her questions an utterly gush. It was something her sister and niece got used to being around. 

“No more soccer. You didn’t like my game? There was all the confetti and balloons.” 

“But it is so long. It takes so many minutes to play, and I get very tired and bored when you don’t have the ball or score points.” 

“You make a good point.” 

“I like it better when we go to see the castle and that fun science museum and stuff.” 

“I liked that stuff too.” 

“We miss you at home,” Anya explained as they made their way to her sister’s place, oddly proud of the beautiful place she found for herself, and more relieved with the circle of friends she made. 

“I miss you sometimes.” 

“Just sometimes?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa grunted as she pulled the kid from her shoulders as they made their way to the elevator. “But forget that. You guys can help me pack.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

Even from the hallway, Clarke could hear the noises of a family laughing from behind Lexa’s door. It was a sound she almost got used to experiencing over the past two weeks, with Lexa’s sister and niece in town. It was a much more welcomed sound that the roar of the crowd at the championship, or the people calling her name in the street when she was out with her girlfriend ever since. It was certainly better than the multiple phone calls she got from her mother fretting about her father’s deal to commentate in Tokyo. 

Naturally, Clarke was worried about her father, but seeing him come back to what he loved, even just at the game the one time, was more than enough to prove to her that he needed it more than anything else. 

Even after spending a whole game and a few trips around town together, Clarke was still slightly nervous about spending time with Lexa’s sister, as if every time she did, she waited for the inevitable call from Lexa that said she’d considered it and it wasn't going to work. Anya was stoic and tough to read. It was almost comical for Clarke to think of how Lexa seemed practically animated beside her poker-faced sibling. 

But the call never came, and Clarke had to remind herself to not be so ridiculous. It was absolutely silly to think Anya had any reason not to like her. 

And so she knocked. 

“Hey,” Lexa greeted, easy and happy and with a dish towel on her shoulder as she dried her hands. 

The thoughts were gone and Clarke remembered the girl who walked around town in the middle of the night just to talk to her and prolong a date. 

“It smells really good.” 

Clarke leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend at the door. She pushed her hand against her chest, laying it flat there while she tasted her for a moment, the wine still tart on her tongue, soft and sweet before going further into the house.

“You smell really good,” Lexa retorted with a floppy smile. “How was your day?” 

“Long, but okay. The sun is out so the kids are itching to burn off the winter energy.” 

“I can barely keep up with one, let alone a whole herd like you do every day. I don’t know how you do it, Griffin.” 

“Well, when a mediocre salary and lackluster benefits package rolls up to your door with the promise of weekends off and a pack of thirty primary-aged kids, any sane person would jump at that kind of career opportunity.” 

“When you put it like that…” 

“It was a good day, just long,” Clarke chuckled. “What’d you guys get into?” 

“Mia made me take her to the park, and we watched a puppet show, and played on the late.” 

“Don’t forget the ice cream and the shopping,” Anya supplied, sitting at the counter with her glass of wine as Clarke followed the soccer star into the kitchen. “Lexa hates shopping, unless it’s for toys to spoil a kid with.” 

Slightly guilty, she just shrugged and picked up her spoon to stir something on the stove. 

“We may have done a little shopping,” she agreed. “Nothing too crazy.” 

“We’ll see when the packages start to arrive at home.” 

They bickered in a way that Clarke didn’t understand-- sisters. It was a concept she understood inherently, but in practice was beginning to see how inept she’d been at truly learning the full notion of having someone like that. She had close friends, friends she’d give a kidney to, friends she’d die for, friends she couldn’t live without, but there was a bit of a shared history between the sisters, a legend and lore, that transcended some of what Clarke considered to be her dearest confidants. 

“Grab a glass, join us. Anya picked out a nice red on her own excursion today.” 

“A girl after my own heart,” Clarke nodded approvingly as she reached for a glass to pour a much deserved drink. “If those two were left unsupervised, what did you get up to today?” 

“Just a little bookkeeping,” Anya murmured over her glass as she flipped through a stack of papers. “My sister is hopeless at any of this stuff and refuses to listen to anything her agent suggests unless I read it first, like I have some kind of law degree or something--”

“You could and should,” Lexa interrupted. “She has better instincts than I do. I love Indra, but at the end of the day I’m a collection of numbers and commas and dollar signs. I trust Anya to give me her hoenst opinion.” 

“Because you don’t pay me.” 

“Exactly. If I paid you, then the integrity of the process would be ruined.”

“Can’t have that,” the oldest sighed and flipped and drank.  

“She acts like she gets annoyed, but the moment I make a decision without asking her, and all hell breaks--”

“Don’t you start! You signed a deal to move across the entire world. That warranted a bit of a freak out--”

“That was one time and it turned out okay. It truly is a great opportunity, and you even admitted it--”

“You got lucky and I still don’t like it. Someone breaks your heart and you key their car, not impulse trade yourself--”

“It wasn’t impulse. You knew it was an option for months.” 

Like a ref at a tennis match, Clarke looked at each of them lobbing facts and histories at the other. None was bitter, and in fact most seemed almost comical to them as they argue the finer points of indignation. Clarke took a large gulp of her wine. 

“As I was saying,” Anya ignored the rebuttal and explained it to Clarke as her little sister went back to the stove. “We have a system in place for a reason.”

“If you could not trade yourself to another continent, I would appreciate it,” Clarke muttered, earning a grin. 

“I don’t know, this offer to come back home doesn’t look so bad.” 

“I just won a damn championship and unpacked the last box. I think I’m set,” Lexa shook her head and held a spoonful for her girlfriend to taste. “Plus, what do I need money for? My sister works for free.” 

“I’m going to bill Indra my hours as a freelancer.”

The squabbling remained at the same level, but Clarke began to hear the love woven throughout, and as much as Lexa couldn’t admit it, sparring with her sister was her love language, and Clarke was almost certain it was the same for Anya. The only question now, was how did she survive it.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I’ll clean up in the morning,” Lexa offered as her sister began to pile plates in the kitchen.

“Oh, I know you will,” her sister grinned, her cheeks slightly tinted with the drink they’d gone through during dinner. “It was nice to see you again, Clarke.” 

“Good to see you, too.” 

“I’m going to check on the ki and head to bed. Tomorrow we’re going to the art museum and I need to start to taking naps to keep up with a first grader.” 

“And I’m taking them to that diner we like by the station.” 

“Get the potatoes. You’ll love them.” 

“I’m going to gain seventy pounds visiting this damn country,” the oldest complained as she made her way down the hall with a wave over her shoulder. 

The dining room seemed a little more empty all of a sudden, slightly quieter now that the third of the dinner party was gone in search of sleep. Lexa smiled and sipped her wine before looking at her girlfriend, the first time they’d been alone in what felt like months. 

The eyes never changed, Clarke realized, as she adjusted slightly in her chair, pulling a leg up and balancing her cheek on her knee. Quietly, they looked at each other. Neither speaking with words. 

“You look beautiful,” Lexa offered, cocking her head slightly as she played with her glass. 

“You look like a champion.” Clarke earned a chuckle and slight blush. “Your sister was so proud. And Mia was screaming. I wish I had it on video. They’re very proud of you.” 

“Anya loves you, by the way.” 

“I don’t know about that.” 

“She does. She was worried about me falling for you. I think she might be ready to beat you up if you break my heart, but she likes you.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

Lexa nodded, dreamy and mildly intoxicated from the food and the wine and her beautiful girlfriend and her wonderful family and the fact that she had a championship ring on the way and the fact that she was going to represent her country. 

“I should head home,” Clarke sighed after looking at her phone and sliding it on the table. 

With monumental effort she pushed herself up and stood while Lexa refused to move except to take another sip. She made it a few steps before a hand grabbed her wrist. 

“You should stay.” 

“Your family is here.” 

“I miss you.” 

Puppy dog eyes followed and Clarke allowed herself to be pulled down into a lap. She missed her girlfriend’s smell, she realized. She missed how she felt and looked at her, and as much as they’d seen each other, it felt almost new again, a comfortable kind of same that was just renewed. 

“You’re a busy lady.” 

“You’re my favorite way to spend time,” Lexa promised. “You’re just so… so… I like you.” 

“They leave in a few days, and then you’ll be gone.” 

“I’ll see you in Tokyo,” she promised. 

“I know.” 

It was a little bit of a lie. Clarke was aware of the schedule after getting her hopes up to see her dad when he was in tournaments as a kid. But she knew Lexa would be busy for most of it, and it wasn’t about her. It was about support, as much as it killed her to not scream for more. She’d never dated an actually talented soccer player before, but she knew the role. 

“Stay tonight,” Lexa whispered again, kissing her shoulder. 

“You have plans tomorrow morning.”

“Come with us. I need you tonight.” 

“You’re just tipsy and needy right now.” 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, her lips half pulling up in a mischievous grin. “I need you tonight.” 

Clarke moved her hands, rubbing them up her girlfriends chest, over her shoulders and to her neck. She ran her thumbs along the corner of the soccer players jaw, staring at her lips before meeting her eyes, debating what to do. There really wasn’t much to think about because they both knew what she was going to do. 

“I need you to take a week off so we can celebrate all of your accomplishments.” 

“There’s never enough time. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as I’d like--”

“I knew what I was getting into, somewhat.” 

“Once you realized who I was.” 

“Yeah, after that.” 

Clarke sighed and leaned forward, tenderly kissing her girlfriend, savoring the feeling of the quiet and the night and the world when they were allowed to exist together. She hadn’t thought about anything else on the planet except for them, together.

“You going to make it worth my while if I stay tonight?” 

There wasn’t much of a word uttered, but Clarke got her answer.

NEXT

[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.

[the-wlw-cafe]

Sisterly Intervention

Request: (possible trigger warning) Could I get a oneshot where the reader is Kara and Alex's little sister and they find out that you're in an abusive relationship?

Fandom: Supergirl

Warnings: abusive/controlling romantic relationship

Word Count: 1369

I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it to sister’s night today.

You’ve lost track of how often you said these words in the last weeks. It isn’t that you don’t want to come, or that you don’t have the time. In fact, you miss your sisters terribly, even though you text daily. It’s just that he doesn’t want you to see them. And, well, maybe he does have a point. Maybe it isn’t healthy to still depend on your sisters that much at your age, especially when it is him you should instead lean on.

And anyway, he always gets so insecure when you spend more time with them instead of him. And then he gets angry, and starts breaking shit, and that’s really a can of worms you don’t want to open. It’s easier that way. You’ve learned to live with it, really. You can tolerate it. And isn’t tolerance what a relationship is really about?

Are you sure you’re alright?

You’ve been flaking on us for a pretty long time now.

I’m really sorry, but my boyfriend’s got other plans tonight.

As soon as you send it, you know you shouldn’t have brought your boyfriend into this. You’ve lived with your sisters for long enough to know when they are raising their guard, and they always seem to do it when you bring up your boyfriend. “It’s because they’re jealous”, is what he says, “Alex doesn’t like me because I’m a man.” And you want to prove him wrong so badly, but still, they do seem to have something against him. And it’s not really helping your position when you bring up the old argument of wanting to go to sister’s night.

Your phone screen lights up with an incoming call from Kara. You curse under your breath before swiping to accept. You hope to make this quick – he doesn’t like it when he checks your phone and finds out you’ve been talking to someone longer than necessary.

“Kara?”

“Hey, (Y/N), Alex is here too, we’ve got you on speaker.” She sounds like she has to force herself to sound casual, but you’ve always managed to see right through her.

“Listen, (Y/N), can we see you sometime soon?”

“I’ve already told you I can’t make it to sister’s night tonight, I’m really sorry, but I just –“

“Not ‘just’. Nothing’s ‘just’!”, Alex interrupts you. There’s a short scuffle, you assume Kara has stepped onto her foot to make her stop talking and messing up the script of the phone call.

“It doesn’t have to be sister’s night. We just want to see you. In person. We really miss you.”

“I miss you, too,”, you manage to admit. But you have no idea how you are going to bring it up to your boyfriend.

“If you make it quick, I can probably see you during my lunch break tomorrow…”, you propose, hesitantly. He’s never gone to your place of work before. But as soon as you say the words, the doubt comes flooding back. Maybe he’s been there, and you haven’t seen him? Maybe he’s in contact with your colleagues, with your superiors, tracking your whereabouts? You shake your head. When have you become so paranoid?

“At Noonan’s?” Kara asks, and there’s a hint of a real smile in her voice.

“Where else?” you answer.

You block their attempts to make small talk – you can talk at Noonan’s after all. No reason to stretch out this call, no reason to rile up your boyfriend.

You wish you could stop looking over your shoulder. You’ve been sitting at Noonan’s with your sisters for not even one minute but you still feel like you’re committing a crime. You’re sure they’ve noticed, but still, you can’t stop yourself.

“So, (Y/N)” Alex starts at the same time as Kara blurts out “this is an intervention!”

You dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands. “And here I thought you guys just wanted to see me.”

They don’t let you change the subject.

“We want to know what’s going on with you and your boyfriend. Because from what we’ve gathered, your relationship doesn’t sound healthy, at all.”

“Kara, you’re being dramatic. We’re just in a rough spot with our relationship right now, but it will get better.” It has to. Because it’s been better before, it was good. This right now is temporary, you know it.

“Will it, (Y/N)? Will it really? Because from our perspective it just looks like he’s controlling when you go out and who you see, and that’s textbook abusive behavior. We can’t just stand by and let that happen.”

You feel your eyes watering, and damn, you didn’t mean to cry now. But there’s a gigantic lump in your throat and you can’t answer, you can’t explain…yes, things might not be as great as they once were between you, but lots of relationships go through difficult phases, you can’t just give up once it starts getting tough! But you can’t explain, you can’t make them see, you can’t…

“Oh, babygirl…”

You used to hate it when Alex called you that. You’re not that much younger than her anyway. But right now, with her moving in to hug you, all you can think of is how long it’s been since you’ve been held like this. You bury your face into Alex’s shoulder to muffle the sobs that threaten to escape. “It’s not like that”, you try to argue, your voice muffled against Alex’s shirt. “I just have to prove that he has no reason to be jealous…”

“No, (Y/N). This is not on you. Don’t  let this…big jerk” – you snorted wetly at Kara’s inability to curse – “give you the blame for how he’s treating you. You deserve so much better.”

You can’t hold back the sobs anymore, but you don’t have to. Alex is rubbing your back and Kara is holding your hand, offering you one of her roughly half a dozen sticky buns. The last time she’d offered to share food with her was when you were in the hospital because you had bruised three of your ribs. They’re just here, waiting patiently for you to cry it out. You’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.

“And what do I do now?” you finally ask after there were no more tears left to cry, wiping away the wet trails on your cheeks with a napkin.

“You tell us,” Alex stresses softly. You heave a sigh. You know what you should do, what you’d advise everyone else in your situation to do, but making the decision yourself is terrifying. Still…

“It can’t go on like this”, you murmur. “I’m just…scared.”

You can see your sisters’ mirroring frowns. “(Y/N)”, Kara starts slowly, deliberately, “has he ever hurt you?”

You shake your head, but your shaking, hunched frame clearly spells not yet. “He just gets so angry all the time. And when he’s angry, he keeps breaking stuff – always mine, never his! And I just…I don’t want it to get worse, I guess, if I break up with him I just know it will be so much worse – where would I even stay?”

“With us, dummy!” Kara says, and even though the worry crinkle is still apparent on her face, her smile is so gentle and familiar. It makes you feel like you could cry again.

“I’m a federal agent and Kara is literally Supergirl, I would like to see him try and hurt you when you’re with us. Actually, I almost hope he does try, I really hope he gives me a reason to break his nose…”

You smile at them tentatively.

“I’m so thankful for you guys, I really am…I just don’t know how to actually break up with him, I don’t know how to bring it up without him just blowing up on me.”

“You can do it right now. Right here, you can call him. There’s nothing wrong with breaking up over the phone if breaking up in person would put you in danger. And we’ll be right here with you if you get nervous, kiddo”

Kara moves to hold your hand in hers. “We’ll always be right here with you, no matter what.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Outside Influences ch.3

Summary: Oh, right, Rus and Edge have a chance to remember that they actually don’t like each other very much. 

Tags:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Off-Screen Attempted Sexual Assault, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Aftermath of Violence, Pre-Spicyhoney, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Aftermath of Attempted Sexual Assault

Notes: Why am I still writing this? Maybe because Rus needed a chance to show his teeth. 

Please read the warnings on this one!!

Chapter One | Chapter Two

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Read Chapter Three on AO3

or

Read it here!

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Edge was still awake some hours later when he heard his brother return in a rattle of door locks. Unlike his counterparts, Red was less prone to shortcutting his way around the Underground. Neither of them could afford for Red to ever be low on magic if it could be helped and one opportunity to teleport could mean the difference between dusting and more lives than their own.

A glance at the bed confirmed that Rus was sleeping peacefully enough now. Too pale yet, the normally warm tint his magic brought to his bones absent. What little was visible, anyway. He was wrapped up in the blankets, smothered into them with only his skull showing. Those unsettling whimpers had eased some time ago and he was safer in Edge’s bedroom than nearly any other place in Underfell. With that in mind, Edge rose silently to his feet, prowling downstairs to demand more answers from his brother.

Red was still at the door, for once kicking off his snowy shoes on the mat, meltwater spreading in a darkening puddle around them.

“hey, boss,” Red grumbled. He stripped off his damp jacket and beneath Edge’s watchful gaze, reluctantly hung it in the closet. “shitty fucking weather, storm’s blowin’ up. that’ll keep everyone inside, anyway, less trouble for a while.”

“What did you find?”

“eh, everythin’ll hold ‘till the storm’s over. the traps looked good, dogs are safe at their stations and—”

Edge interrupted him before he could build up too much steam. “If you’re going to insist upon this dance every time I ask a question about him, I am quickly going to lose patience and I will take it out on you.”

It was not an idle threat and his brother knew it well. The rest of the Underground did not know the real level of Red’s strength, concealed beneath the reality of his lazier nature. It was a charade they’d been playing together for years and those who discovered the truth were not ones destined to survive long after. But for him to best Edge in a fight required effort that Red rarely liked to put forth. That Red still hesitated was telling, weighing consequences as he scratched the back of skull, "bro, i don't know-"

"Tell me," Edge ground out. Frustrating as it was for Rus to be keeping secrets, that at least was understandable. Red kept enough from him, far too much. He wasn’t going to tolerate it this time.

Finally, Red stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "lot more marrow on the inside of his sweatshirt than the outside. he definitely had some broken bones before he healed up, and—"

"Brother."

Red blew out an irritated breath, and his teeth scraped as he ground them together. How rare was it these days to witness Red trying feebly to protect him.

His words were short, clipped and sullen, "can't say whether the dried jizz inside his shorts was his or not. don't matter though, pretty sure his dick wasn't in agreement with his head about what happened." He waited, watching critically until Edge gave a curt nod, gesturing impatiently for him to continue. "found some short brown hairs on his clothes, too, and unless rus is sprouting pubes that he hasn’t mentioned, they gotta belong to another monster."

“That narrows things down.”

“a little, yeah. gotta say, i’m glad it wasn’t scales, only a few monsters that could be, but—” The red glare of his brother’s eye lights strayed, widening as they flicked higher and Edge turned to see Rus standing unsteadily in the open doorway of his bedroom, looking down at them. Whatever vulnerability had been leaking through the cracks earlier was shut down, tightened into coldness.

“if you’re done talking about me, can i come down?” Rus asked. The acid in his tone was belied by the way he wrapped his arms around himself, cupped his elbows in his hands as he hunched in.

There was no telling how much he'd overheard. From that closed off irritation, Edge was guessing it was enough.

Well, fuck.

"heya, honey bun," Red said easily. He picked at his teeth with a sharp fingertip, idly inspecting the findings before wiping it on his shorts. "your clothes ain't done yet."

"that's fine, i was gonna burn them, anyway.”

"uh huh," Red let out a deliberate yawn, showing sharp teeth as he stretched with exaggerated enthusiasm, “welp, i could use some sleep. catch ya later.”

"you couldn't catch a cold." Dismissively. Normally a mistake for Red, he was never one to ignore. But his brother only slanted a glance his way and Edge could read that darkly amused look easily. This was his problem to deal with and Red vanished with a pop of teleportation, a rare indulgence so that he wouldn’t have to walk past Rus, who was making his way downstairs with stumbling, furious determination.

Wonderful.

“if you can loan me a pair of boots, i’ll head home,” Rus said shortly. Never mind that he was only wearing a pair of Edge’s pajamas, that even with boots, it was cold enough right now that simply walking from the house to the machine in the basement might sicken him in the condition he was in. He was already shaking a little with the effort of getting down the stairs.

When Edge Checked him, Rus winced, barely keeping from cringing away from the unwanted prickle of it washing over him.

“Your magic is still very low.” It was tempting to lay a hand on Rus’s shoulder, try to guide him to the sofa to sit down so he could be wrapped up again in blankets. But there was something about the sofa that Rus shied away from it the night before, and the only other option would be to push him to the floor. Neither choice seemed promising. Edge was forced to leave him standing with his toes curling away from the chilly carpet and swaying as though a stiff breeze would send him to his knees.

“yeah, well, thanks for the reminder, but i can take care of myself.” It was incongruous, Rus standing there shivering, drained pale of magic, and ready to demand he be allowed to stagger home through a storm. Even his eye lights flickered, almost sputtering. Rest was good and well but he needed to eat. “appearances might beg to differ, but i actually don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Edge only raise a brow bone at him, holding his gaze steadily. Rus looked away first, drawing in a quick breath, releasing it. What he attempted next was something like reluctant gratitude, "look, i appreciate everything, i do. but i don't need you two going around behind by back, fucking things up."

Sweat was starting to sheen his skull and Rus swayed on his feet, but he jerked back when Edge reached for him. Edge muttered a foul word beneath his breath and stalked away, hoping that Rus at least had enough sense not to try his luck at leaving barefoot. In his state, he probably wouldn’t be able to get through the door locks. He hadn’t moved by the time Edge returned, only stared in confusion as Edge set a chair from the kitchen table next to him.

“Sit,” Edge commanded. For a moment, he thought Rus wouldn’t. That he’d rather fall to the floor, wallowing in surly defiance. Finally, he all but flung himself into the chair, drawing his knees up to rest his feet on the seat. The quilt was still on the floor by the sofa and Edge snatched it up, shaking it briskly before draping it around Rus’s shoulders.

“I might have agreed you didn’t need a babysitter, except you’re acting childish, so I might well be wrong,” Edge said sharply. He could see the anger simmering in those flickering eye lights and it wasn’t necessarily all for him. Rus was probably angry at the world right now. Best to attempt something a little gentler. “If you feel ready to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“won’t stop me?” Rus laughed and it was bitter. “wow, you’ve really gone all in on this mighty protector bullshit.”

“I won’t stop you,” Edge repeated doggedly. “And you haven’t asked for my opinion, but I think you should stay. You’re obviously still weak and you need more to eat than one cookie.” More to the point, Edge wanted him to stay. It didn’t sit well with him for Rus to go back to Underswap without enough magic to defend himself, especially not knowing who had hurt him. Not yet.

It was somehow the wrong thing to say, as it so often was with Rus. The same kind of slipup that ended in arguments on movie nights, with the others watching with varying degrees of annoyance and sardonic amusement as he and Rus squabbled.

All of Rus’s emotions were crammed into ball of sullen resentment and anger, with nowhere to aim it but at Edge. “i got my ass handed to me, okay, i was kinda fucked up. but i’m not weak!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Edge kept his voice calm. His fault, he reminded himself. Allowing Rus to overhear his need-to-know had broken that fragile trust, barely built before toppling. And there was most likely plenty going on in Rus’s skull that had nothing to do with Edge, leaving him touchy as hell, ready to lash out at anything that pricked. “And needing to be safe to recover doesn’t make you weak. Otherwise every Monster in my Snowdin would qualify.”

“i’m not from your snowdin, and mine’s a little less dust hungry.” The sneer against Underfell was a familiar one. The uncertain tremor beneath it was not.

“No, you’re not,” Edge said, softly, “But I still want you to be safe.”

That contemptuous veneer was not as steady as Rus might prefer, faltering into confusion, fear, before shifting into something different, his sockets hooded as he looked Edge up and down. That gaze was predatory in a way that was strangely discomfiting. Edge knew the hungry gaze of Monsters who succumbed to their LV; Rus’s was too similar by far.

"yeah? that's it, huh, you want me to be safe, and that’s it? safe for you?” His mouth curved into a smirk, the bright flicker of his tongue visible behind his teeth. “don’t worry, sweetheart, i’m as safe as you’re gonna get."

“What--?” Edge broke off in confusion as Rus slipped to his feet. The languid way he held his body made him seem oddly graceful. Deliberately, Rus let the quilt slither down to the floor, leaving only the soft pajamas clinging to his bones. It was oddly distracting, didn’t give Edge a chance to back away as Rus curved a hand behind skull, holding him as he swooped in to press their mouths together. Pure shock stopped him from pulling away at first. He kept his teeth shut against the sly flick of Rus's tongue, pressed coaxingly, sliding wetly against Edge’s closed mouth.

Edge’s uniform left his spine exposed, deliberately so, no loose material to grab and it was a false vulnerability that had fooled more than one attacker. Only now it left him open to Rus’s clever fingers, his hand curving around his spine to skim knowingly over the bones and cartilage, teasing out flashes of unwanted pleasure and that was enough to wake Edge from his frozen shock.

He tore away, barely resisting the urge to shove Rus violently back, even as he fought the pulse of his own arousal, dizzying and unexpected. His own restraint was vanishingly low, worn by lack of sleep and the frustrated anger at all of this, and he very nearly raised an attack.

“You—” he broke off, too furious to even form words.

But his anger faded as he caught sight of Rus's face, the angry desperation obvious behind his smirk, "what? you wanted to take the lead? c’mon then, let’s head out to the dance floor. or back up to your room, the bed’s more comfortable."

Edge exhaled shakily, clinging to his self-control. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't act like it's about…that."

He couldn’t say it wasn’t about sex, not without knowing what Rus had been through. But it definitely wasn’t about whatever Rus was trying to offer.

A harsh laugh, Rus’s eye lights raking down Edge’s body. "trying to say you don't want it?"

Not one minute ago, he would have been able to unequivocally say yes. Before he'd distractedly licked his teeth and tasted the unexpected sweetness left behind, before he’d felt Rus pressed tight against him, his hands teasing, his mouth offering silent promises. But Rus was far too good at reading expressions to try for a lie.

Another truth, then.

He set his hands on Rus’s shoulders and that smirk widened. Only to falter as Edge pushed him firmly back into the chair, gathering up the quilt to wrap around him again.

"I didn't help you so I could try to fuck you," Edge said, bluntly. “If that was my plan, there were certainly easier ways to go about it, don’t you think?”

That sullen anger was crumbling away, sockets too wide as Rus looked up at Edge. It made him seem startlingly vulnerable and whatever defenses Rus usually kept up were badly formed, leaving behind only tired confusion. "then why? i don't get it. i don’t understand why you want me to stay. why’re you helping me at all, you don’t even like me.”

And Edge didn’t know how to explain it to him, not if Rus didn’t understand. It wasn’t about liking, nor was it anything to do with his friendship with Blue. He considered it for a moment, taking the time to allow his roused magic to settle.

Slowly, piecing the words together as carefully as he’d solve a puzzle, “If I came to your home and I was hurt, would you turn me away?”

Rus blinked up at him and there, finally, dawning realization. If Rus hadn’t been so exhausted, so very hurt, he likely would have drawn the right conclusion on his own. But all his normal cocky confidence had briefly been beaten out of him and there was no faulting him for not being able to think straight when he could barely stand.

There was still a lingering hint of confusion, but Rus shook his head and whispered, “no. i wouldn’t.”

“Then please allow me to be at least as decent as you are.”

That dry statement earned him a startled laugh. “yeah, i guess i can manage that. okay.”

“Okay,” Edge repeated, softly. “Now, are you going to let me feed you.”

“my decency only goes so far.” Rus drew up a leg, resting his chin on his knee. “if you’re gonna keep insisting on feeding me, i’ll take it.”

“Then come on.”

He didn’t trust Rus’s legs to carry him all the way to the kitchen, and his distrust was proven when Rus only sighed wearily, struggling to his feet with what dwindling strength he had left.

“sorry,” Rus muttered, his head ducked low, eye lights on the floor.

“For what?” Edge countered. “Do you want my help?”

His nod was reluctant, embarrassed.

Edge slid an arm around him, careful to keep his hands from anywhere inappropriate. He still ended up half-carrying Rus to the kitchen, allowed him to sink into one of the other chairs with a relieved sigh. Rus fumbled to gather the quilt close again and Edge let him, allowed him to wrap himself back up in the soft folds.

“Let’s see,” Edge murmured, mostly to himself as he opened the fridge, perusing the contents thoughtfully. It was closer to lunch than breakfast and while Rus needed something to eat, his magic was likely unsettled. Something light and easy to manage would be best. There was a container of broth leftover from making dumplings a few nights before, and a couple eggs left in the door. Edge pulled out all of it, setting it on the counter. He set a pan on the burner and poured in the broth to heat. "Have you spoken with your brother?"

"yep."

Rus didn’t elaborate and Edge sighed, stirring the broth. “I would apologize for what you overheard when I was speaking with Red, but it would be a lie.” He heard Rus inhale sharply, but when he didn’t protest, Edge went on. “I won’t pressure you to speak about what happened. But I will admit I sent my brother looking for information. Evidence gets destroyed quickly in a place with weather as unstable as Snowdin, and if it was necessary, I didn’t want it to get lost.”

“that’s not a bad line of bullshit, you should stick with that one,” Rus said. “’cause, see, you don’t need evidence.” From the corner of his eye, Edge saw him shiver, a bare whisper as he said, “i already told you, they didn’t rape me.”

Edge cracked an egg into the hot broth, stirring it so it cooked in long threads. “Do you think because you weren’t raped, that what happened was in any way acceptable and shouldn’t be punished?”

But whatever openness had briefly shown itself closed off tight and Rus only muttered, “maybe i don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then we won’t,’ Edge agreed mildly. He let Rus retreat into silence, concentrating on the soup. He ladled out a small bowlful, enough to test Rus’s tolerance for food without making him worry about wasting it. Set it in front of him and watched as Rus fumbled for the spoon.

He ate it in small, steamy bites, and when it was finished, he gave Edge a small smile, “please sir, can i have some more?”

Edge let a smile of his own show, calling back as he took the bowl to the stove, “Luckily for you, I’m kinder than any Dickens story.”

“you are.” Quietly, from behind him.

He kept his expression placid, encouraging Rus to keep eating, and hiding the cold thoughts growing at the back of his mind. Red was the evidence seeker, but this time Edge was the one who found useful information, all packaged into a single word.

They.

The proximity alarms cut off that line of thought and Edge frowned, pulling out his phone to check the cameras. With the storm rising, there weren’t any Monsters he could think of that would try to either visit or attack right now. He squinted as the staticky picture came clear, sockets going wide as it showed him Blue staggering through the harsh winds, headed for the front door.

“I thought you said you talked to your brother?” Edge snapped. He shoved the phone towards Rus, showing him his brother’s determined approach.

But Rus seemed as surprised as he was, the spoon falling from his hand. He looked stricken, a faint flush of agitated magic rising in his cheek bones. “i did. i never told him i was here, just that i’d be back soon.”

Edge exhaled slowly and nodded. “Stay here.”

He left Rus in the kitchen, door carefully closed as he made his way to the front door to start on the locks. With any luck, he could deal with this quickly and send Blue back to Underswap, but he had his doubts.

Luck was in short supply in all the ‘verses lately, it seemed.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Four

[bffhreprise]

Entry 299

 “What?” I questioned after opening my eyes.  Realizing how expensive everything looked, last night came crashing back into my mind.  I was in a mansion, having hit poor Brandon with a glass.

 “Good morning, Deyanira.  I took the liberty of bringing you means of hydration when I noticed you’d wake soon.” stated a feminine voice.

 “Mila, right?” I asked, my head still feeling somewhat groggy.

 “Correct.  Mind if I bring the drinks inside?” she questioned.

 I shook my head, knowing she could see me.  Somewhere in my head, I was trying to work out if that was actually legal, but I was distracted by the door opening.  In stepped one of those impressively humanesque bodies that an A.I. somehow controlled.  She was carrying a tray of drinks.

 “I can’t drink all that.” I blurted.

 “Well, you probably could, but I decided that bringing you options would be more expedient than requesting a choice and fetching it after.  We don’t often have guests here, so please forgive my lack of practice in these matters.  As with most things, the opinions on what is best in  this matter vary greatly.” she explained, sounding apologetic.

 “I can see how that would be confusing.  Thank you!” I told her after she set the tray on my nightstand before curtsying.

 She smiled and nodded before exiting the room.

 Coffee, orange juice, several teas, milk, and a glass of water were all on the tray along with various things that could go in the drinks.  She certainly tried to be thorough.  Sipping the coffee—which turned out to be an amazing blend—I tried deciding how to think of her.  An Artificial Intelligence was just a bunch of code used to impersonate humanity.  She could probably use different voices and alter her personality at whim.  No matter how lifelike she seemed, she…  I stopped, realizing I was already comfortable thinking of Mila as a “she”.  Was she so convincing that the idea became ingrained in my tipsy mind last night, or did seeing a body and listening to her speak take advantage of a mind accustomed to addressing everyone with whom I spoke as a person?

 “Mila, where’s Brandon?” I questioned.

 “If you join the others in the ballroom, you’ll see him soon.  Would you like breakfast first?” she replied thoughtfully.

 “No, thank you.” I told her, smiling to myself about how natural the conversation felt.  Then something else occurred to me.  “You don’t watch people change, do you?”  If so, she had already seen me once, not that it really mattered if an A.I. saw me, but… Interrupting as she started to reply, I then asked “Sorry, but I really want to know that I’m not recorded.”

 “In a sense, yes, you are.” she stated promptly.  The moment I opened my mouth, she quickly said, “Please, allow me to explain.  I ‘see’ the world through a very large number of sensors, cameras, and things I’m not even allowed to mention due to them being secret technologies developed by my mother.  Everything I sense is stored, at least temporarily, into my memory, but I routinely delete anything I don’t consider of relevance to me or the company.  Nothing could possibly be offered that would persuade me to share memories that would be considered invasive without permission of the one whose privacy is under attack.  The Master would take personal offense if I did, and I endeavor to never earn his ire.”

 “Because he’d have you deleted?” I questioned, finding the thought surprisingly scary.

 “No, of course not.  He would consider that murder.  Though I do wish for you to know that I am personally against malicious disclosure as well, I’d lose his confidence in me, which would be far worse than death.” she insisted.

 “How so?” I questioned.

 There was a slight pause before she said, “Because even thinking of him regarding me poorly is a source of discomfort.  With a mind like mine, not to boast, I have considerable time to make myself miserable if I were to foolishly tread that path.  Shouldn’t we all do our best to be happy?”

 I nodded, sipping down more of my coffee.  Yesterday, I’d have scoffed at someone claiming to have this conversation.  Today, I was in a different world.  Deciding to change, I tried on the clothes from last night and quickly felt like I should shop here, if that were possible.  Not only was everything perfectly fitted, but Mila’s suggestions were very good for my figure.  As I changed, Mila gave me a briefing on some of the people here, explaining that they were in the ballroom at present.

 Taking my coffee, I proceeded down the hall, thankful when an arrow appeared on a mirror to show me where I was going.  I didn’t hurry, taking time to really look at the art now that I was sober.  Some of the paintings were creepy, but many were beautiful, like excerpts from a good fantasy painted onto this world.  The vases and even tables were beautifully made as well.  Even the ceiling was engraved to look like some elaborate story stretching the halls.

 A corner of a mirror by a table illuminated with a perfect picture of my empty coffee cup and an arrow pointing at the table.

 “But… moisture… I don’t want to damage anything.” I replied, having not brought the saucer.

 Mila quickly assured me “Don’t worry.  The cup will be gone seconds after you place it down, and the table will be tended.”

 I nodded and did as she wished.  This place was as startling as it was exquisite, and I was reminded of how anxious I felt last night.  The strangest part of stepping into a fairy tale was the helplessness you felt when you realized that what you had taken for common sense no longer applied.  Just thinking of what these people could do to me if they abused their wealth was terrifying.

 Before I realized how far I came, I was in the ballroom, spotting someone familiar.  “You’re that girl!” I exclaimed, spotting the perfect whiteness of her hair and skin.

 “Good evening!  Welcome to our home.” she called, not bothering to turn away from the game she played on the enormous screen.

 “Were you able to sleep well?”

 “Huh…?” I muttered, surprised to find the tall, handsome owner standing and facing me.  James was sooo tall.  “Yes.  Thank you.” I replied before asking “Is Brandon around?  Your A.I., Mila… she said to come here.”

 “Brandon should be back soon.  He had a quick job at eleven.” explained James with a smile.

 “Wow.  He must not have slept much.” I stated, remembering again how I had hit him last night.  I really did owe him.

 “James!  I’m all finished!” exclaimed a young girl as she ran into the room.

 “Mila, how did she do?” questioned James as he watched her with an amused expression.

 “Perfectly satisfactory.” stated Mila proudly.

 Raising his hand for a high five, James said, “Good job, Kayla.”

 The girl happily high-fived his hand as she told him “My old school didn’t have nearly as many tests.  I feel like I’ve taken a bijillion and I just got here!”

 “Seems that you’re handling the new routine wonderfully.  Besides, we needed to know how much you knew before we could teach you, right?” he asked her.

 “I guess so.  Can I play now?” she begged hopefully.

 “Were you supposed to do anything for Jemal today?” he inquired dubiously.

 “Yep.  All done.” she assured him with a big grin.

 “You still haven’t picked up your room.” stated Mila from speakers in the room.

 “Tattletale!” exclaimed the girl before sticking her tongue out at a nearby wall.

 “You probably should do that first.” suggested James.

 “But Jemal’s studying, and I don’t want to bother him.” argued the girl, pouting a little.

 Smiling, James said, “Okay, but don’t blame me if he yells at you later.”

 “I won’t!” she assured him, immediately running to take a seat.  The tall mirror in front of the chair she chose had lit up before she was even seated, and a login screen for Ancient Tribes of Earth was quickly bypassed.

 “I am so confused right now.” I admitted.  “Are you her teacher or something?”

 “No.  In a sense, Mila is, but the courses are really about being self-taught.” explained James as if that wasn’t supposed to give me even more questions.

 “You can’t be self-taught at her age.” I asserted, feeling the girl couldn’t even be in junior high yet.  “Doesn’t she go to a real school?”

 “The Institute of Autodidacticism is quite well renowned, I assure you.” he replied with complete confidence.

 “The what?” I asked, having never heard of whatever that was.

 Smiling, James tilted his head and inquired “Mila, how is the institute ranked worldwide?”

 “The very best, of course.  You know Adelmar wouldn’t tolerate his family utilizing something second-rate, though I doubt he’s fully aware of how greatly improved our versions are.” she replied proudly.

 “There you have it.  Kayla’s receiving the very best possible education through college.” asserted James as if that settled the matter.

 “Through college?  Shouldn’t she play with kids her own age?” I asked, feeling the weirdness here never ceased.

 “Jemal’s going to let me visit my friends this weekend!” exclaimed Kayla from her seat.  Why was she even paying attention to us?

 “Ah… I see.” I lied, deciding my questions on the subject weren’t really getting me anywhere.  Going with another line of questioning that had popped into my head, I asked “So does Brandon attend the institute thing?”

 “Courses are available to everyone, and I expect my friends to learn a certain amount just to expand the types of work they can do.” replied James, still smiling cheerfully.

 “This place is so weird.” I stated, but I was already deciding on what to ask Brandon about that institute later.  Brandon wasn’t so… so much.  Something about James was distracting, and I had certainly seen other handsome guys before.

 “I like to think it’s fun enough for everyone.  At the very least, I haven’t had any complaints yet.” stated James proudly.

 “Because it’s awesome!” exclaimed Kayla from her chair.  The game was going, but she still was listening in on us for some reason.

 Not knowing what else to do, I stepped up behind her chair and watched her play for a while.  The girl happily pointed things out to me, and I quickly decided the game was very, very complicated.  After a little while, I went over to watch the white beauty, Portentia.

 “So… what’s your relationship with Brandon?” I asked, startled as I saw my words on the screen.  “What?  Why’s what I’m saying being posted on the game?”

 “I’m deaf.” she stated.  “Mila transcribes what’s said around me, so I don’t miss if someone’s talking to me.  It’s not really going into the game, I think.”

 “Oh.  Sorry.  I was just surprised.” I told her, feeling embarrassed.  I couldn’t know that she was deaf, but… I felt like I just pointed out a blind man’s cane.

Ignoring my discomfort, Portentia said,  “As for Brandon, he wanted a wingman, so I went along.”

 “You’re not supposed to abandon your friend as a wingman.” I pointed out, trying to decide what sort of relationship these two had that she’d be a wingman for him.  There was still a chance one or the other had invested interests.

 “I had… work.” she told me with obvious hesitation.

 What was she hiding?  “You people take jobs that late?” I pursued.

 “Some of us do.  You could say I’m a night owl.” she replied, slightly emphasizing the last two words while sounding amused.

 “So.. about Brandon…” I started, uncertain how to get to the truth.

 “Nope.  Not interested.  I think I intimidate him a bit.” she replied, sounding perfectly frank.

 “Huh?” I questioned, not really seeing Brandon as the type of guy to get flustered by a pretty face… and body… I loved her hair.

 “I can beat him up.” she asserted with a shrug, as if delivering a fact with no thought to the supposed fact being ludicrous.

 “No way.  He’s pretty big… and strong.” I replied, remembering those muscles.  She looked fit, but still…

 “Everyone here learns martial arts.  Portentia’s very advanced.” insisted James from his seat.  He had gone back to playing the game as well.  All of these people seemed like addicts.

 “Is that self-taught too?” I questioned, not seeing how that would work.

 “No.  I teach them.” he casually replied.

 “I… see.” I stated, not willing to argue with the host.  If he was really some sort of Kung Fu master and that good looking and filthy rich, there certainly were reasons he was dating a British noble.

 James turned around, already smiling as he said, “I’m sure Brandon demonstrated that he knew how to handle himself when the brawl broke out.  I was surprised he got injured.”

 “That… was sorta my fault.” I admitted.

 “Oh?” he inquired, seemingly genuinely interested.

 “I sorta hit him with my drink after he got pushed into me.” I explained, wishing I had restrained myself.

 “And then you went home with him?” questioned James dubiously.

 “I felt guilty!  All he did was smile and apologize after I hit him.  Then he helped get some people out of there while acting as a wall.  It was kinda cool.” I explained, feeling more and more embarrassed.

 “I think you liiiiike him.” teased Kayla, sitting on her knees and staring over her seat at me.

 “Maybe.  Did you call dibs or something?” I questioned, not sure how to deal with this nosy kid.

 “Eww… no.  That’s gross.” she claimed before plopping back around to play her game.

 “Gross?  Isn’t that a bit harsh?” I asked, feeling Brandon would look perfectly handsome away from these models, especially with those abs…

 “No.  It’s Brandon.” she asserted without turning around again.

 James laughed and said, “I might have to tell the others to watch what they say around you.”

 “Aww… but James…” she pouted.

 “Fine, I’ll just blame Emma.” he teased.

 “Emma’s… the one with the multi-colored hair?” I verified.

 Nodding, he said, “Yes.  She’s out doing some carpentry today.”

 “Carpentry?” I asked, picturing the spritely girl.  “She doesn’t look like a carpenter.”

 He shrugged and admitted “No, but she’s the best, better than me in fact.  I do believe I mentioned that we fulfill a variety of needs here.”

 “Yes, but… I don’t know.  I feel like I’m missing something.  Before I just thought I was tired, but…” I started, not even sure why I was saying so much when the front doors swung open.

 “Baby, I’m back!” exclaimed Brandon as he stepped inside.

 “Baby!?” I exclaimed, whirling to face the hall.  I couldn’t see him from here, but I asked “Are you married!?”

 “She’s still here!?” he exclaimed in a panic.

 “Are you married or something?” I demanded as I rounded the corner.  These rooms were too big.  If he had brought me here when he was married, then I had entirely the wrong idea about him.

 “What?  No.” he insisted, holding his hands out defensively despite the distance between us.

 “Then who are you calling ‘baby’?” I asked, staring him down as I took another step closer.

 “Umm… you?” he suggested stupidly.

 “He actually just does that sort of stuff frequently.” called James from his seat.

 “You can’t just say things like that!” I exclaimed, hitting him as I reached him.  Too annoyed about the misunderstanding, I did my best to ignore how solid he felt.

 “Why not?  I’m glad to be home.  I was working, you know.” he told me, though he was dressed pretty casually again.

 “So?  You didn’t leave a note for me or anything.  What would you have done if I just left?” I questioned, not willing to let him off the hook.

 “Called?” he suggested.

 “You don’t have my number.” I asserted, wondering if I had given it and forgotten.

 Speaking from speakers in the hall now, Mila said, “Actually, we do.  I performed a full background check on you when you entered the premises.”

 “What?  I didn’t agree to that.” I told her.

 “No, but as a law student, you are probably well aware that you don’t need to agree to anything for someone to perform a background check.  Given that you may seek to enter into some sort of relationship with Brandon, I felt looking into you was in the best interest of the company as well as Brandon.  We wouldn’t want him bringing home a dubious person, would we?” she explained in a reasonable tone.

 If there was a flaw in her logic, I couldn’t find it at the moment.

 “Uh… sorry about that.” stated Brandon, sounding sincere.

 I hit him, realizing he could have warned me.  He didn’t warn me near enough about what I was stepping into, but how could I have believed this place from a guy who wore a nerdy t-shirt to a bar?  “Get anything good?” I finally asked Mila as a plan hatched in my head.

 “Yes.  Apollo is quite adorable.  Your mother uploads videos of him frequently.” replied Mila, verifying that the background check was very thorough.

 “She does love that dog.” I agreed.  Deciding openness was the way to go, I asked “How well do you know the law?”

 Mila was clearly amused as she said, “Enough to know that your current textbooks have a number of errors.  I sent out erratas to your professors and the publishers to review as a courtesy.”

 “Quiz me for my next test, and I’ll forgive you.” I told her.

 “Agreed, though I really don’t believe you’re as offended as you’re acting.” she told me.

 I laughed and said, “A good lawyer has to be able to act.  Looks like I need some work.”  I wasn’t really surprised that I couldn’t fool Mila, but getting her help could be invaluable with her having access to an entire, highly-regarded school.

  “So does this mean you want to come back here?” asked Brandon hopefully.  He was so much easier to read than James, not nearly so intimidating either.

  “No.  I’m assuming a fancy A.I. can quiz me from anywhere.  She has my number.  I still might though if you buy me breakfast.” I playfully suggested.

 “I’m hungry too, but… umm.. mind eating here?” he asked.

 Surprised, I inquired “You cook?”

 “A little, but Marco’s the man.  You’ve gotta try his cooking before you go.” insisted Brandon, as he put his arm around me to turn me toward another hall.

 “And Marco is…?” I questioned.

 “Oh, the chef.” he replied with a smile.

 Of course… mansion… chef… Duh.

 Marco seemed delighted to have another mouth to feed, though he already seemed to be working on lunch with Mila’s assistance.  She took over dicing the vegetables he had been working on as he started pulling things from the fridge.  Watching an actual chef in action was so different than watching my mom cook.  His movements were so smooth, and he had Brandon and me laughing immediately with his anecdotes.  Within one bite of my frittata, my resolve to eat here again was firm, and the man kept on cooking.

[lifeofyellowpearl]

Yellow Pearl Reminisces Pt. 2

I must be honest, I didn’t care for Pink Diamond. She made me very uncomfortable. I’m a pearl, I’m supposed to look up to diamonds and revel in the might and glory that they exude. I’m supposed to have nothing but the utmost respect for a diamond, but Pink did not make it easy for me. I wanted to respect her, honestly, I did but I just couldn’t. At least not as much as I respected her elders. It was later after the meeting. The elder diamonds were accosting Pink for her conduct earlier while K and I stood by at attention, occasionally exchanging glances. “I just don’t understand what that was all about!” Exclaimed Pink, “You’re always going on and on about how you want me to be more involved and when I finally am, you shut me down! I mean, seriously??” I hated myself for being unable to fully respect this diamond but a part of me also hated Pink for being so…hard to respect. I mean, how could she not see a problem with what she had said?

“Pink, please calm down.” Said Blue.

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong.”

Blue Diamond pinched the bridge of her nose, “Pink, there is so much wrong with what you were saying back there. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Well, it’s obvious where we should begin.” My Diamond said, “We should begin with cuts”

“Cuts?” Pink replied.

“Yes Pink, right now we need names of those you spoke to. Their facets, cuts, cabochons, whatever you can remember.”

“But why?”

My Diamond was incredulous that Pink would even ask, “Pink! Are you serious? These gems literally confessed to covering up infractions and hiding things from their superiors. That’s not okay, we need to know who these gems are so that they can be punished.”

“No, but you see, that’s the problem. These gems never would have opened up to me had I not promised to keep these conversations anonymous.”

The elder diamonds were aghast. “Pink Diamond,” My Diamond chided, “you promised them what?” Pink rolled her eyes, “Okay look, maybe I shouldn’t have been fraternizing or whatever but these gems, they needed someone to vent to, guys! They’re stressed out of their minds. If they report that something happened on their watch then that gets marked against them. We have, like, this zero-tolerance policy for damn near everything and it’s discouraging gems from talking to us!” I found myself biting my lip as I listened to what this diamond was saying. I personally had no issue with our so-called ‘zero tolerance policies’ and up until now, I had always frowned upon any gems that did. I had no idea what to think anymore.

“Pink, look, you really don’t know what you’re talking about. I—”

“Excuse me!?” Pink Diamond was livid, “I don’t know what I’m talking about??”

“Pink, please.” Said Blue, “Yellow only meant—"

“Oh, I know what Yellow meant! You guys always freaking do this! Whenever I try and bring something up or share my ideas, you never take any of them seriously! You keep saying that you want me to be involved more but every time I do or say anything, you guys shut me down. How do you think that makes me feel?” Pink Diamond turned away from her elders and began to pout.

“Pink, we’re not saying that you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, that’s certainly what I’m saying.” Said My Diamond.

Blue scowled at My Diamond for a moment, essentially prompting her to keep her thoughts to herself. “Well no, we’re just saying that…maybe you haven’t thought this through.”

I was expecting Pink to retaliate, and it looked like she was about to but then she stopped herself. Instead, with her back still turned, she stood upright and placed both of her hands behind her back. She tucked her chin, closed her eyes and began to murmur to herself. I recognized this stance. It was the very same stance My Diamond takes whenever she wants to clear her mind and really think about what to say and how to say it. It was a surprising deviation from Pinks typical unrestrained demeanor. Pink’s mimicry was not lost on My Diamond. For the first time, it appeared that My Diamond was genuinely interested in what was on Pink’s mind.

After a few more seconds, Pink’s eyes shot open, she had it. With a renewed sense of determination, pink turned back towards her elders, “A bismuth loses half a kilogram of iron ore, what happens to her?”

Curious, My Diamond played along, “Well the bismuth in question would receive a strike.”

“Yes! Exactly! It’s immediately marked against her. No warning, no memo, no coaching, just an immediate strike. A permanent strike.”

“Okay now hang on,” My Diamond said indignantly, “strikes are not permanent, any and all strikes that gems receive are forgiven after ten decimal years.”

“A mandatory minimum of ten decimal years. A strike can stay on a gem’s record for much longer depending on the viceroy in charge. And I know for a fact that Jadeite 106 is particularly harsh. A strike in her sector can stay on a gem’s record for up to forty decimal years!”

“Pink, where exactly are you going with this?”

“Okay, so a bismuth loses half a kilogram of iron ore, right? Well let’s say this is 106’s sector, so the bismuth knows that if she reports this, the penalty will be harsh. So, she covers it up. A few decimal weeks later, the manager in charge notices that there’s half a kilogram missing from the inventory. Now since this happened on her watch, she’ll be harshly penalized as well. So instead of reporting what happened, she covers it up. Times that by a million and you start to see why some sectors are producing less than what they project.” The elder diamonds were impressed. Pink, though young and naïve, was more knowledgeable than she appeared.

“Yeah, I pay attention to this stuff.” Pink said, responding to her elders’ apparent surprise, “And I’m not just saying all this. Based on what gems have told me, there is a connection. Stricter punishments lead to underreporting and over projection. I do know what I’m talking about.”

“Pink that’s…” Even My Diamond couldn’t deny that there may have been some legitimacy to what Pink was saying. She wanted to refute Pink but maybe just maybe, she was right about this. “I mean…just how long have you been doing this?”

“A little over a century” Pink proudly stated, “and I’ve spoken to all kinds of gems who all raised similar concerns. I’ve spoken with nephrites, aquamarines, lapis lazuli, agates, quartzes, bismuths, pearls…”

“Pearls!?” My Diamond exclaimed, “You fraternized with Pearls??” And just like that, My Diamond was no longer interested in what Pink had to say on this. “Pink, that is completely unacceptable. You can’t do that.”

“Now wait, Yellow.” Said Blue

“Blue, no! We can’t encourage this!”

“Yellow, please, just hear me out. I have an idea.” Blue Diamond pulled My Diamond close and whispered to her. K and I both exchanged glances as we tried to make out what they were saying.

I didn’t know what Blue’s idea was, but I could tell by the look on My Diamond’s face that she did not care for it. Regardless, My Diamond acquiesced, “Very well then.”

Blue nodded and then turned to Pink, “Pink, I’m impressed. You put a lot more thought into this than I realized. You saw what you believed to be an ongoing problem and you took initiative. As diamonds, part of our duty is addressing widespread issues and taking action. In that respect, you did the right thing.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“But you were doing it the wrong way.”

I could sense that Pink’s natural response was to get defensive, but she knew that Blue meant well, and she fought the urge, “Okay, you know what? I’ll own that. Maybe I should have gone about this differently, but I know I’m onto something here.”

“I am sure you are too,” said Blue, “which is why I have a proposal. You think that our strident policies are doing more harm than good and we’d like to give you an opportunity to prove it.

“What do you mean?”

“You will conduct a survey in which you will scrutinize the punitive practices of our galactic viceroys as well as that of the colony chancellors and district managers that serve under them. In conducting this survey, you will be given an opportunity to prove your hypothesis.”

“Wait, Really??”

“Yes, really and we will provide you with whatever resources you will need. Won't we, Yellow?”

“Yes,” My Diamond answered, rolling her eyes, “However, you must draft up a proposal for this survey. It must contain a well thought out introduction and you must present a clear and specific method that you will be using to make your estimates. And if your proposal gets approved, then you may conduct your survey.

Pink Diamond could sense Yellow’s skepticism. “Fine, I will, and it will be the best and most well thought out proposal that you’ve ever read!” Pink Diamond then stormed out, presumably to get started on her first draft.

The truth is, My Diamond did not expect Pink to finish that proposal. My Diamond was certain that Pink would lose interest early on. One could imagine how shocked My Diamond was when Pink turned her proposal in. Blue Diamond was so proud. She insisted that My Diamond look at it. Every so often, Pink would ask My Diamond if she had read her proposal. My Diamond kept promising that she would get around to it, but she never did. And without the approval of both elder diamonds, Pink was unable to move forward with her survey. After more than a few years, Pink realized that My Diamond would never take time to read her proposal and so she gave up on asking.

Now, nearly 7000 years later, with trembling hands and misted eyes, My Diamond was reading Pink’s proposal for the first time. I watched as My Diamond sat staring at the holo-screen for what seemed like hours.

“Well written.” She muttered, “Very well written.” I was never able to resolve my feelings towards Pink Diamond; however, I am truly sorry that Pink was shattered mainly because of the pain that it has caused My Diamond. I don’t think Pink ever fully appreciated how much My Diamond cared for her and now that she’s gone, she never will.

[leafzelindor]

Real, Or Not - SPN Fanfic

Sam Creations Challenge / Ultimatetrollcolinfirth

↳Prompt:  {Variation} Crazy!Sam {Word} Trust

Month Theme: Emotions

Sometimes he wondered what was him. Was he really Sam Winchester any more? Did Sam Winchester still exist inside of him? The real one, the one who had been born to Mary and John Winchester. The one who had grown up admiring his older brother and been so proud to get into Stanford with a full ride?

What had happened to the Sam who had loved Jessica? Who had wanted to be a lawyer and help people?

He didn't know any more.

Sam stared at his hands quietly and just turned them over. They’d already been so many other people’s hands. He’d been a killer, he’d been a lover. He’d been a brother. He just wanted to be Sam.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice started him and he half looked up, blinking. Dean looked happy, It was weird, and it was good, and he also felt a flicker of fear.

“You’re not Dean,” he said sharply, he was rewarded with a laugh and suddenly another face, a far too familiar face was before him. He rubbed his hands against his eyes and shoved that one away. And then he was alone again. He shivered and shifted to lay himself down. To try and focus on something else. Something away from him, away from here. Sterile and white and lonely.

“Sam?” A soft tap. “It’s time for your pills.” He sighed heavily at that. The orderlies here were all so nice. But they couldn’t possibly understand, they couldn’t do anything to stop it. “Sam? Or is it Gadreel today?”

“It’s Sam.” He said quietly now, shivering as he made himself sit up, turn around to face the heart shaped face of the woman who usually brought his afternoon meds. She was the most patient, the most understanding. Sometimes he thought he knew her. He wasn’t sure why. She smiled and moved over to offer him the little plastic cup. The cup that held his antipsychotic medication. At the very least it helped him sleep, even if he still saw things, lost himself.

“Bad day?” She asked with a smile as he took the pills and knocked them back, he then reached for the little bottle of water to wash them down. He let her check to make sure he’d swallowed. He always made sure to, if he didn’t then Lucifer decided to come and bother him, not letting him sleep. He’d tried, oh he’d tried not taking them. It wasn’t worth it.

“...yeah,” he put the empty bottle down and then moved to lay down once more.

“You should come down to the main room Sam. I bet today Jimmy is there,” she coaxed now. Meg. Her name was Meg. Somehow that seemed right. He didn’t ask though he knew her nametag said something else. Sam stared at the wall across from his bed in utter silence for about 30 seconds now. He didn’t want to see Jimmy Novak right now, he knew that the angel inside the man was trapped there and it was painful to him.

“Just a suggestion, think about it. Come down if you think you want to socialize.”

He could hear her moving now, picking up the tray. Meg wasn’t this nice unless she wanted something from  you. What did she want with him? Not just to be social.

“She wants in your pants, like they all do.” He tried to push down that voice. That voice was the one that made his skin crawl the worst. The things Lucifer had done to him. He curled up a little bit now. “Ignore me all you want Sammy, you know it’s true.”

“Go away.” He hissed to himself, knowing it was pointless, until the medication really kicked in, Lucifer would just hang out and taunt him. That face, that smug voice, the promise of dragging him back into the cage again.

The therapist he was required to work with was sure that this cage was all in his mind, that he’d been in some sort of prison situation and his mind had warped it into Lucifer, Michael, Adam and the Cage. That he was using those visions to protect himself. He knew it was real, all of it, even this. Lucifer was in this room with him, right now.

“I am cutie pie and I won’t be going anywhere. I wish I could touch you again. You always cried so pretty for me.”

Sam shifted and pulled the pillow around his head. It didn’t really muffle the taunts but it certainly made him feel better, temporarily. Somehow, he was able to fall asleep even if his dreams were all a mess this time.

//

“Sammy.. Sammy come on. I didn’t come out here to stare at your back.”

Dean was the constant. Dean never changed. Sam didn’t know why his brother tried to come see him as often as he did. He had his own worries, his own life. Sam sighed quietly and then made himself sit up, then after a moment looking up from the sterile white of his bed to his brother in the doorway. Looking tired and yet so alive. Sam swallowed now.

“Hey Dean…” He said a little thickly. “How are you?”

“Missin my little brother.” Dean glanced over his shoulder. Nurse Meg was there she just nodded and motioned for Dean to have a seat, then she moved to step away. Dean quietly tugged the plain chair near the door at the small table and sank into it with a flop. “Nurse Joy out there says that you’ve had a run of bad days….”

“He’s been here.” Sam said glumly. Meaning Lucifer. “I had to…..Get away.” That was what he called it when Gadreel was in control and he hid in his own mind.

“But it’s Sam right now right? All yourself and nobody else?” Dean asked quietly as he watched his brother. Sam flinched, knowing that Dean had been so used to what had happened to him that it didn’t even surprise him when Sam started to fracture to pieces.

“Yeah,” the word was soft and Sam just felt so, lost, scared, wrong. “S’Cas with you?” “Castiel? I think he’s in the public meeting room,” Dean said smoothly, Sam wondered if it was just humoring him. He knew Castiel had saved his brother from hell, just as he knew that the angel would watch over him. Castiel chose to stay trapped here and watch over Sam, he didn’t have to but he did. Sam sighed and moved to stand.

“Let’s go see Cas,” Sam insisted now and then he moved to push past Dean, for the first time in a week willingly heading for the group therapy room, which during visiting hours often had visitors and games set out. Today there was a movie on the tv, but his destination was Castiel, sitting over by a window with a game box in front of him. Castiel’s blue eyes were bright as he looked up at the brothers.

“Hello Sam, Dean,” he said very politely as always. It was cute how nice he was.

“Hey man,” Dean nodded and moved to sit, he shifted to get his phone out. “Want to see the new pictures I have of Ben?” He grinned as he offered and moved to tap about on the small screen.

Sam twitched faintly as he sank down. Why was he still with that woman? Didn’t he know that it was dangerous to have a family? They’d be taken away, the demons would find them. He was quiet though as Dean showed of pictures of Ben, a cute kid, about ten years old who looked like a little version of Dean himself. Castiel smiled at that and then sighed.

“I got a new picture of Claire.” Castiel said, carefully patting the trench coat he wore over his issued cotton outfit. The only thing that made him different from the rest of the patients here. Sam watched him pull out a new looking photo of a pretty blond girl. He knew that she wasn’t Castiel’s daughter really. No that was his vessel’s, Jimmy Novak’s, daughter.

“She’s getting big.” Dean said with a nod now and smiled at Castiel. It was a polite smile. “How treatment?”

“They don’t believe I’m an angel,” Castiel shrugged and then he looked at Sam. “That I am trying to protect Sam….”

“I told you they wouldn’t,” Sam said now and then he shrugged and tugged over the game box and he started to open it up. “Let’s play a game.”

He pretended not to notice when Doctor stepped over and asked to talk to Dean. His brother quietly excusing himself and stepped away. Sam took a breath and startled as Castiel’s fingers settled over his, giving a gentle and quick squeeze. “It’s all right Sam.”

“Is it?”

The reply was soft and almost lost. He looked into bright blue eyes. He knew what the doctor was saying. Sam wasn’t getting better. Neither was Castiel. They’d come in almost the same time, and neither had improved much, though the medication did keep the worst of his own voices away. Castiel never ever answered to the name on his paperwork, he said that only Sam understood what he was. He wasn’t surprised that anyone else didn’t believe them. Most of the staff humored them, but they both heard the whispers.

“We’re going to escape,” Castiel promised now, his eyes bright. “I’ll get us out of here, I’ve spoken to the other angels….”

“I need my medication though,” Sam whispered softly. “You know it’s the only way I can keep him away.” He swallowed hard. He couldn’t let Lucifer come back. He’d done bad things when Lucifer had gotten into his head. He couldn’t face it again. He shivered a little bit.

“Hey Sammy.”

Dean’s voice was behind him now and he swallowed. Sam slowly looked at his brother, not sure what he was going to say. “Yeah?”

“Doc thinks it might do you some good to take a day trip. Come home with me to see Lisa and Ben.” Dean smiled at him. “He says your meds are really helping….”

“No,” Sam said sharply, standing up, not quite listening to how the chair clattered behind him. “I can’t, I’ll put them in danger Dean. He will know they are there and he’ll send the demons and they’ll hurt them. I can’t.” His words tumbling out of his mouth. He only fell quiet when Cas’ hand curled around his and he could sense the warmth of the angel’s wings curling around him protectively. He swallowed now. “I, I don’t want to.” Dean paused and his eyes flicked to Cas and then back to Sam and he nodded, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Okay Sammy. It’s fine. Another time maybe.” He nodded, giving that smile that said he was just tolerating Sam’s outburst to placate him. Sam turned and buried his face into Castiel’s neck. He wanted Dean to leave. He couldn’t see him like this. He felt a broad hand slide over his back and he just clung to the trench coat hanging from the other man’s shoulders.

“I think it’s time you went, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was rumbly and protective. Sam took a sharp breath and then closed his eyes. He was safe like this. Nobody could get him. Castiel was a Seraph, he’d protect him. They stood like this for some minutes before Castiel gently nudged him back. He lifted his head and sighed, just letting his forehead press into the other man’s.

“Jimmy, I need you to step back.” It was one of the orderlies, Jim. Sam didn’t want to let go of Castiel, he didn’t like that they were using his vessel’s name either.

“Please, Jim just let me take him to his room. Then I will go to mine, I intend no trouble.” Castiel’s voice was a quiet rumble. There was a pause and then Sam assumed that Jim had nodded because Cas was nudging him to turn around and Sam did. They walked quietly now, Sam clinging still to the edge of the angel’s trench coat, at least until the doorway of his room. He slowly pried his own fingers off of it and stepped in. Letting Jim move over to give him a dose of a sedative. Castiel remained in the doorway even as Jim left and Sam sank onto the bed. He knew he was safe, with Cas watching over him, nothing could get him. Not Lucifer, not anyone else.

“Sleep well, Sam,” Castiel whispered now, and then there was a flutter of wings as Sam’s eyes sank closed. One day it would be okay. One day. After the end of the world, he’d be able to rest again.