#it’s cause the carrot has been dangling in front of him for so long

[scribeofmorpheus]

Veilguard Review: Doom Upon the World

Warnings: Spoilers for Veilguard, very political review (considers race, gender, religion and choice consequences centred around established Thedas).

Another long post: 4k words

In my first review (Love, Wisdom and Pride), I focused on the relationships most pivotal to Solas’ arc reaching resolution: Inquisitor and Mythal (though heavily Solavellan inspired, I tried to be aware of how the Inquisitor’s role as a rival/friend outside of romance was still considered as an important relationship in his story). This review, on the other hand, will focus on the worldstate and what we lost [x], as well as my speculations on which story beats/companions/advisors I feel should have been integrated into the story for a deeper emotional payoff for past Dragon Age players (and overall story cohesion).  

N.B: This review is definitely a critique of something I love, born from love, because—yes, I had expectations; yes, they were high; no, I don’t think that’s a problem; no, I do not hate the game we got, but I mourn for what the devs clearly were building towards with the last 3 games in the series, and from what we know from the internal struggles with Bioware under EA’s helm (as evidence from the development time, layoffs, staff’s disappointment, and the differences between the final game and the concept art) the only thing getting in the way of a truly epic game was corporate meddling and greed.

Spoilers below the cut.

Without further ado, the primary criticism I have is that Varric should not have been our advisor! I read a post somewhere that succinctly surmised the that Varric was chosen as our Advisor so that:

Solas would make an “irredeemable” mistake for all the Solas haters to use as an excuse to simply view him as an antagonist, simplifying the goal of the game to: stop the elf from bringing down the Veil.

Varric was used for marketing purposes rather than story depth choices; he’s popular, beloved and an easy carrot for the EA stick to dangle in front of loyal fans.

His writer has literally been trying to kill him off for the last 2 games! Varric was supposed to die in Inquisition! (lol)

I firmly believe he should have been holding the blight back in Kirkwall, and that his position as Viscount of Kirkwall should have affected the outcome of the blight spreading in the South!

Advisors in the North

Right off the bat, the two best choices for advisor, (excluding the Inquisitor out of favouritism) should have been Dorian and Morrigan.

Dorian: because we’re in the North, the Shadow Dragons are by far the more “grassroots organisation against imperial power” kind of organised body the Inquisition started out as. Since we don’t have a calling to fight against like the Wardens in Origins or a family to try and keep together in a city on the brink of implosion like Hawke, or a pseudo religious-political body to inspire Hope in the faithful like the Inquisitor, Valour, Love and Hope cannot be at the heart of this story. It has to be JUSTICE [x].

Justice for the culmination of Anders’ story; for Merril and everything she endured to repair the eluvian; for Fenris, the origin of his lyrium tattoos (which according to GhilDirthalen’s post, there was a plot point linked to elves whose lyrium bodies did not possess latent magical prowess) and the slaves in Tevinter; for the rebelling elves that should have formed factions as the Dread Wolf’s Agents like the Trespasser epilogue hinted at; for misunderstood spirits hurt by mages like Cole; for the ancient elves like Abelas; for the templars who saw the corruption in their ranks but had no way out because of lyrium addiction like Sampson; for those corrupted by red lyrium that was spreading throughout Thedas with no cause or cure; for the dwarves like Branka, obsessed with the answers held in the Anvil of the Void, or Harding, or Shaper Valta who saw a Titan and witnessed the death of the Legion of the Dead; for Sandal’s prophecy!; for the qunari oppressed by the Qun, turned talvashoth, searabas, hisraad like Bull! Justice for two decades worth of worldbuilding on the part of the writers and the devs who loved telling these stories.  

Morrigan: is self-explanatory to the story they were crafting between Solas and Mythal. And what would have been even better is if they actually just explained away the Well of Sorrows’ choice unaffecting the Inquisitor because Morrigan eventually had to assimilate the essence from the well to keep the Inquisitor from going mad—like the anchor had to be tempered by Solas in Trespasser. Easy as that!

The best part is that pitting Morrigan and Dorian as foils of each other further allows the game to have greater stakes and tension because Morrigan (changed by Mythal’s righteous anger and need for justice for what was done to her by the Evanuris) could champion making choices more detrimental to Thedas but ultimately in line with Solas’ plans. And Dorian could make choices that put the safety of Thedas’ citizens at the forefront by sacrificing headway in stopping Solas and his Agents from advancing with their plans!

Best yet, we could have had a hardened vs softened Dorian depending on whether you recruited him in Inquisition, and/or did his quest.

[Inquisitor concept art by Matt Rhodes]

Favouritism Bonus Round: The Inquisitor (or alternatively Morrigan) should have been the voice to champion Rook to seek out the wolf statues, and they should have been present when discussing the memories, as it would have given them more gravitas when uncovering the literal story of "Solas is Andrastian God creating the Veil" or "the Dalish Dread Wolf is being proven to be a saviour" or "Elves originally being spirits in the beginning", or "Titans were at war with the elves" beyond comments like: “Oh, Solas regrets this” or “They were doing it”. (This is the issue with having a “couch setting” for a “war room”—discussions feel less intellectual, factions don’t necessarily bring their own unique viewpoint into the interpretation of Solas’ decisions/Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain’s presence, etc.) Everyone is not digesting the material given like it’s a clue to stopping the world from ending but rather like gossip. With the Inquisitor, as either a friend to Solas, a rival or a romanced Lavellan, finally finding the Dread Wolf’s Achilles Heel after vowing to stop him would have rung true, closed the loop.

Sigh.

This is also why I feel the Inquisitor should have been the one in Varric’s place—like literally. I mean recovering from an injury after failing to catch up to Solas in ACT 1, possibly dispatched by Agents of Fen'Harel! Because they could then be forced to pass the mantle to hunt down Solas to “Rook”. Not dead. Or a blood magic illusion. Just, Inquisitor, wounded, making small talk, sometimes bringing up plot points from Inquisition—your Hawke on the battlements in DA:I or Alistair in the gardens with Morrigan and Keiran.

It would also make more sense for the Inquisitor to be able to use the eluvian to travel between Skyhold and the Lighthouse, allowing for believable absences during plot points where their lack of action inspite of their presence wouldn’t make sense. Not to mention more gut-wrenching if we heard about the South from Inky rather than reading 4 letters!

Previously, I stated how the Inquisitor’s presence needed more weight in the non-Solavellan endings! Some people’s Inquisitor befriended Solas, some hated him, either way, the Inquisitor should have been present for the final showdown beyond a passive observer! If the Inquisitor ended up being the last friend/former love that Solas destroys (in a bad worldstate end where you don’t collect Mythal’s essence), which then prompts Rook to fight him because Solas’ last tie to empathy failed to redeem him, that would have added so many layers! The Inquisitor falling is the last straw for Solas too, whether friend, lover or foe, he fought beside them, stopped Corypheus with them! The Inquisitor was partially his making of a hero; his first “good” mistake! It would then make sense for him to snap, choosing to be a villain in the hopes of being stopped because he can’t stop himself, he’s come too far! Rather than the ‘I am a God’ ending they gave us.

Agency of a “Rook” on an Empty Chess Set (Factions and Backstory)

Personally, from both a writing and a viewer’s perspective, I think our protagonist should have always been linked to the Shadow Dragons (and the factions choices shouldn’t have been incorporated. This is more because, framing one’s backstory as being a member of a faction—not a people with established political positions in Tevinter—siphons the narrative of personal stakes. Imagine being a mage who could have begun with higher approval in Tevinter but lower elsewhere, maybe they’d be saved from the Venatori’s thrall that was linked to Neve’s companion story—again linked to Ashur and the Dragons. Or an elf mage could begin a storyline like that of the city elf in da:o but focused on the Shadow Dragons’ tackling slavery’s presence in Tevinter. A Qunari origin could explore being a refugee aided by the Shadow Dragons as they flee the Qun because they don’t fit in the dogmatic religion. A warden could be a criminal in Tevinter, showing us what is considered ‘rules for criminality’ in a city that corrupt and extremist.

Overall, the factions don’t add much diversity to Rook’s background, backstory, dialogue tree or influence on the world state beyond a last name that doesn’t really matter. With a Shadow Dragons’ background, the very ethos of “Rook” would have been about overcoming oppression, and then the nickname makes sense too, a name to stay concealed, to keep loved ones safe while DAV’s protagonist battles politics, blood mages and blighted gods. It would have been even more meaningful if the nickname “Rook” paralleled “Dread Wolf”, in that it was bestowed by your origin-based backstory antagonist and then used as a call to freedom (we wouldn’t even need a cutscene, this could have been revealed in part of their banter/dialogue). This simple choice would have allowed us to focus on Treviso and the Antaam’s occupation and Tevinter and the Venatori’s rise to power on a more personal level. It would also place our Rook in a position to be a foil to Solas’ “do what is necessary for the greater good” vs “be better than those that came before” plot lines. Building off this, the hardened companion status between Neve and Lucanis should have formed a parallel, with one tilting towards understanding Solas’ extreme efforts to stop the Gods, whereas the non-hardened character should have taken the role of foil. Both of whom would add balance to the tension when discussing Solas’ memories or even in exploration banter during missions (one the “devil” on your shoulder, the other your “angel” depending on where Solas’ actions stand for you since Inquisition).

Finally, the Shadow Dragons' should have been linked to Dorian more directly, potentially created with backing/support from the Inquisition’s advisors/Inquisitor directly (since their default attire is the Shadow Dragon apparel).

Companions: Cole for Compassion; Briala for Rebellion and Revenge

Cole

In my review Love, Widsom and Pride, I briefly touched on the fact Cole (whether recruited, not recruited, kept spirit or changed human) was absolutely necessary as a companion. Because it doesn’t matter which version was present in the world (RIP the tapestry), every iteration of Cole works synergistically with appealing to Solas’ spirit side:

If he wasn’t recruited in Inquisition, he could simply have his default origins as a compassion spirit that ‘follows’ the greatest pain in the Fade that yearns to be healed, giving a compassionate viewpoint to Solas’ folly.

Recruited-to-the-Inquisition Spirit Cole could have a greater connection to Solas than even Varric, seeing as Cole was most likely a literal representation of Solas rewriting his own history of corruption by preventing a spirit from becoming something against its nature.

Human Cole would have a deeper connection to the world of Thedas, and could have been a great tool to prove how change was inevitable, not always a bad thing, and inevitably out of even Solas’ control. And he could still offer insight into Solas' mind via 'remnants' of the time he was more spirit.

Briala

What I enjoy about this companion head canon is that Briala is literally Solas’ direct parallel story-wise:

She’s in love with Celene, the ‘best’ choice for ruler in Orlais even though she burned Briala’s alienage. They share a great power imbalance, with Celene able to affect the fate of all elves in Orlais, yet is unwilling to free them, return the Dales, or concede power even though she claims to love Briala, too. Briala is a rebellion upstart, raised by Felassan for crying out loud. She controlled the eluvians and knew how to get around the crossroads, she has more of a bone to pick with Solas than any other NPC not close to the Inquisitor! (Celene and Mythal share many similarities as well, with Celene seen as the more benevolent of rules when compared to Gaspard the Warmonger; and if Gaspard is in power but controlled by Briala, her being dethroned from her seat of power by Agents of Fen’Harel when she lost access to the eluvians would have been a great story arc to explore).

Sidenote on DAV's Romance, Companions and Choice Consequence

Building off having either Cole or Briala as a companion, I do think it would have been nice to have them as non-romanceable too. Don’t get me wrong, I know it's great to have options, but I do feel making everyone “pansexual” wasn’t the right way to go for all the companions. It takes away character choice, personality, taste and individualism from the companions. Dorian’s story would not be nearly as impactful if he could have been romanced regardless of gender. Solas being unwilling to romance any race besides elf (though a direct correlation to the developers being afraid of the ‘evil bisexual’ trope that was popular in the 2010s) also adds to his story; where he’s reluctant to see the world as real, to accept non-elven people as having agency, because that would mean he wasn’t walking through a see of Tranquil, but instead, he was the Forgotten One out of time.

I also firmly believe that a possible reason Cole wasn’t a companion despite there being plans in place that he’d return (Trespasser epilogue slide, I remember you), is because I can 100% see an EA big-wig being like: “He’s unfuckable. Give us someone hot and brooding and slap a demon in them and you’ve got fuckable-Cole” and then we got Lucanis.

I like Lucanis. I’m not crazy about him, but I enjoy the Machiavllian family drama. Very Renaissance Medici story beats. I adore Mary Kirby as a writer, too, but I feel the introduction to the Crows of Antiva should have been Zevran’s mantle, or he should have at least haunted the narrative and missions related to the Crow factions (of which there should definitely have been factions within the Crows). Considering the fact I romanced Lucanis, I couldn’t shake the fact that a lot of his “acceptance for being bound to Spite” beats paralleled a Human Cole having been ‘cured’ from Compassion.

The romances seem less… memorable to me than past games. The importance of choice means you have to accept the story unfolding based on the consequences of your choices; and gender-locking at least one companion would show the cause and effect of beginner choice. Taash is actually written to prefer women over men, which is vital to their arc around gender dysphoria and being non-binary, they would have been a perfect candidate! I imagine their story would also be a great way to explore how being one race attempting to romance another could have a slower progression rate (again, because of Taash’s multi-cultural background, and their complex feelings at having been raised by a mother so tied to the Qun, them being cagier around a qunari Rook romance would also have added layers!) But with everyone available to be romanced, and having no initial repercussion for early game choices despite which character model would have bruises or cuts (Neve or Harding), genuinely roleplaying as Rook, and not as someone using Rook as a stand-in for ourselves, is more disconnected than previous games. This is why the romances feel off to me. Doing the romanceable companions’ storylines seem like I’m the one trying to date them, not Rook. Maybe it’s because Rook’s established personality is the direct repercussion of a sanitized worldstate!  

Foibles of being ‘Unproblematic’: A Sanitised World

The issue with trying to make a game that won’t touch on difficult topics, is that, when you make that game a sequel to a series that was literally built on the backs of tackling real world politics, it makes a lot of the world seem plastic. A poor imitation perhaps.

The World of Thedas book actually tells us that Thedas is a fantasy setting that uses the real world as its backdrop for conflict and world building. Andraste is Joan of Arc. Andrastian faith is Christianity founded by a woman. Orlais is the French bourgeois era. Fereldan is more Highlands/Celtics region if it never had a chance to expand because of the blight. Elves are the disenfranchised (and a direct parallel to popular elven cultures that were often portrayed as the pinnacle of advanced magic/civilisation). City elves live in alienages (literal ghettos). Dalish elves (native to the land) are being run out of their homes, the Orlesian’s are trying to claim the territory for their Empire, and their numbers are dwindling, their culture and language a poor imitation of what it had been, barely surviving colonialisation! Dwarves have a caste system that determines everyone’s future! Dagna had to leave her home! Harding grew up on the surface. Varric’s whole plot thread anchoring him in act 1 of DA2 is helping his brother discover Deep Roads riches so they can get their family’s title again.

And through all 3 games prior to Veilguard, we’re told the Ventaori are monsters, the Imperium is crueller to its elves/slaves than any place in the South! The best option beyond turning Feynriel tranquil in DA2 (one of the few Dream Walker mages) is to send him to Tevinter. What becomes of a half-Dalish mage in Tevinter? Neve, our first companion beside Harding, is determined to make Dock Town a place worth living! So, to walk into Veilguard and have no slavery storylines in a place called the fucking TEVINTER IMPERIUM (modelled after the fucking Roman Empire close to collapse) is so jarring. So unbelievable. What injustice is Neve battling? What woes has Dorian been dealing with in the Magisterium?

The closest we get to seeing the darkness that exists in the world (besides the hanging corpses lining the streets of Dock Town if you save Treviso, is the side quest where a father makes a deal with a demon to keep his child alive by sacrificing so many innocents).

And then there's Tevinter's "savage" neighbours, the Invading forces of the Qun! Frightening, right? But from the blasé manner the Qun's rigidity is discussed, it is framed as though anyone can simply up and leave the Qun if they so wished it, according to Taash’s mom. Yes, Taash is being hunted, and their mom is taken prisoner, but it was all in service to a tablet that discussed fire-breathing, not about returning to the Qun. Iron Bull being deemed hisraad holds less severity when the consequences of leaving a subjugating, dogmatic, religious-political society are simply... nothing. There's no anchor to Taash being raised in Rivain for safety reasons beyond keeping their fire-breathing secret. And what of all the elves that commit to the Qun? Why are there no elf converts among the Antaam? What about the fucked-up stuff the Dwarves of Kal-Sharok were doing before Veilguard? Kal-Sharok dwarves apparently were changed by the First Blight, and are supposed to have a ‘tainted’ appearance according to the World of Thedas concept art book. Why are they just... normal dudes in booby armour (lol)?

[Imshael! A demon/spirit of choice & Calpernia as potential companions is insanity>>!]

I possibly wouldn’t have these strong opinions if the games gave the companions more… just more ‘controversial’ stories with harder choices! Veilguard in a way feels like playing a game with child-lock on. Yes, what happens to Tevinter or Treviso looks awful when you see it, but the side-quests, companion stories, NPC dialogues and world around the ‘mise-en-scene’ don’t reflect this--it's like set dressing. The “I can’t believe the Venatori are evil” side comments by Rook in Tevinter when the Venatori takes over become whiny, child-like and “hopes and prayers” coded. Do something then, Rook. You are the hero of this story, are you not?

I am forever grateful that Lucanis is actually hardened and removed as a romance interest if you sacrifice Treviso (finally, good old dragon age consequences).

Now onto good criticism of our companions!

Companions: The Good, the Balanced and the Essential

Good: Neve and Davrin.

Neve is our eyes and heart to Dock Town, our humanising presence for the Tevinter Imperium. She is also written in a way that I find her to have the best agency as a non-romanced character than most.

Davrin is a breath of fresh air for the reputation of the Grey Wardens, he’s the genuine article. Him owning up to being young and foolhardy when he rejected the Dalish ways in search of adventure, only to be battle-hardened and then become more appreciative of the fact he was taught to live in harmony before he was exposed to the discord of the Deep Roads is such a good character growth moment.  

Balanced: Harding. Harding grows into a much more invaluable story piece when she unlocks the Stone Sense and uncovers her people’s history. It’s a rather short-sighted choice to have her be one of the Ultimate Sacrifice characters because what becomes of the story of the Stone? Who hears the song? Who will speak of the Titans to other dwarves if she is chosen to go on the final mission?

Essential: Antoine and Evka! No notes, they should have been conditional companions in a side quest! They’re fleshed out so well, and their relationship is real and built into their character, but it’s not all they are! Antoine is smart, hopeful and also tortured by the new blight. Evka is powerful, pragmatic and also caring.

The Red Herring that should have been: Bellara as an Agent of Fen’Harel! Her storyline would have worked with the concept of being found ‘suspicious’ by players if the Agents of Fen’Harel were an active group. A Veil Jumper in Arlathan whose brother got entabgled with a Forgotten One? Someone who is an outright believer in the elven pantheon? O, Bellara, the power you would have had as a possible double-agent in our midst, only for us to have been wrong in doubting her and having it be someone else! Race and position to power should have inforced so many story beats in this game, man!

Finally: Religion, Where?

I’m a little exhausted, so I’ll wrap this part a little quickly. Religion is paramount to understanding the decisions and states of mind of so many characters in Thedas. Leliana’s arc alone is one of the most intimate insights into Andrastian faith! The Inquisitor is literally responsible for appointing the Divine! The Divine can call for an Exalted March! The Black Divine is a huge plot point when discussing the differences between the Southern and Northern iterations of the Chant. Tevinter’s Old Gods (Archdemons) are blighted dragons linked to the Evanuris that whisper the will of their masters to humans. Archdemons are responsible for the Blight, our first “save the world kiddo” moment in da:o! So where is the disbelief in the streets that Elven Gods exist? Why is it always “Our Gods” are back? What about city elves who believe in the Chant of Light? Where is the Black Divine? Why is everyone okay remaining Andrastian when the fact Solas made the Veil is revealed? Where is the politics and religious civil war in the streets between NPCs?! Between companions? Why isn’t there a cultish, zealous group of extreme Andrastians following Solas around? Why isn’t there another version thinking of Solas and all elves as the second coming of Maferath? How are city elves fairing compared to Dalish elves at the reveal it’s their pantheon gunning to end the world? Again! RACE AND POLITICS MATTER! They always mattered in Thedas before, yet here they are anecdotal at best.

The Veil Should Have Come Down

It’s apparent to me, and numerous others, that Veilguard was stunted by its attempts to be an entry piece that wasn’t alienating to new players of the RPG game format, but it was also haunted deeply by it’s very EPIC tapestry mechanic (chocies mattered!). Ironically, Veilguard served to be a soft re-boot of the series. This, I think, was the grandest mistake. If they meant to reboot the series for future instalments, we should have fundamentally changed the physics and rules of Thedas completely to allow the next instalment to start from the literal ground up. By bringing down the Veil, we’d finally free the Titan’s, introduce the concept of Dwarves with magic, awaked the Forgotten Ones and maybe allow for new species/lore/concepts to shape the future. And to work around the tapestry, they could have simply set the next sequel 200 years later. Sent our heroes to rest. Ended with a new canvas.

It should have concluded with the very ending that was prophesied by Sandal in DA2:

“One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, the skies will open wide. When he rises everyone will see.”

Bonus: Anaris should have been a DLC boss with Fenris involved!

Why, you ask? Just this data-mined codex entry still present in the game:

Truth be told, like they did with Corypheus in the Origins DLC, I think they could very well bring him back as the big bad of DA5—which I think should have always been about fleshing out the war between the Titans / the Forgotten Ones / Evanuris!

Anaris and a waking Titan?! That would have been beyond amazing!

Which… again, is why the Veil should have COME DOWN!

P.S.: I know a lot of these criticisms seem like unhappy nitpicks, but I did enjoy Veilguard, I got an ending I could live with. BUT I am so angry by how many roadblocks are placed before game devs with a clear story in mind--as is obvious with the concept art book. Obvious threads were leading to Veilguard having always been the end of the Dragon AGE! We kill the last Archdemon! The last dragon linked to the Gods and the blight! The game developers have even alluded to having fought tooth and nail with EA's suits, but could only manage to give us the game we got. And I'm beyond grateful. But MAN does it hurt!

Remember to say thank you to the writers/artists/voice actors on their socials, they deserve a little love too.

Fin!

[my-shields-are-down]

Hello friend!

I am right there with you about rage posting for 48 hours afterwards. What they did was a huge slap in the face to the fans.

I also have to say I agree with you about not trusting Alexi he said oh they will not go backwards, oh we are moving their relationship forward to the next step. This is not moving their relationship forward our to the next step.

I took know they will not be together at the end of this season. Where I have to say we agree to disagree is that there is always still a chance slightly be it a small chance that they will get back together. It would be dumb for them not do it financially it would be stupid, ABC and the rookie would lose so much money because people would stop watching. There are so many fans that only watch for Chenford. Also it would be dumb because if you really isolate and piss off a fan base people will never want to watch anything you do ever again. The ratings have already fallen big time since last week.

You are right though Alexi has been very quiet. I think he knows what he did but he is to much of a coward to face the music. He is to scared to talk because he knows the wrath that will be thrown down on him.

I do think we might get a season 7 but if we do I see it being the last. I personally never had IG, Twitter, Tik Tok, cameos at all so I am glad I am not missing much. So I have missed out on the all posts from the actors etc...

I just want to hang on to that little bit of hope that they will get back together. I do. I can't imagine them with anyone else. They really do love each other. I know love is not enough. But I would like to think this can't be the end. I am still mad and will be for awhile. If they don't get back together then I am pretty sure that Chenford will be my last ship. I have dealt with enough break ups and make ups that I am worn and beaten down. Another reason why I think they will be together in the end is because this usually how the formula works. Be it not usually on the Rookie but it is they break up the beloved couple they go through crap and get back together. They know it brings in viewers and it works. I can't really think of a show where they broke up a couple and didn't put them back together in some way.

But I am one of those people who stops watching a show when .y favorite couple breaks up and I will not watch again until they get back together. I am not watching the rest of this season until the finale cause I want to see what Melissa and Eric teased about that will make Chenford fans happy. I have a feeling it will probably be something that worth it anyway. But we will see. I just want to believe that there is still a small amount of hope. If we get a season 7 and I feel that we are not getting them back I will call it quits on this show.

++++

Hello friend! 🌼

I don’t think they’ll be romantically back together at the end of the season, but likely will have some kind of conversation to clear the air and acknowledge they were not communicating effectively, that they both have issues to resolve within themselves, that it was wrong for Tim to not give Lucy a say… that kind of thing.

The show will likely get renewed.

If I’m still watching next fall, my hope is that any will they/won’t they moments are not dragged out and whatever decision they make in that singular moment is final. No hemming and hawing.

But of course - they are already dangling that carrot of hope that maybe one day they’ll circle back around to each other in front of us to keep us invested and sitting on the edge of our seats. Because Chenford is so important to the show and makes them money, they’ll drag it out as long as possible. And I’m not down with sitting through that extended remix of a dance again. ( I love extended remixes of New Wave music)

And I will leave the instant one of them dates someone else. I’m just not interested in watching more Chris and Ashley relationships. THAT aspect of their romance does not ever need to be repeated. But again, I can definitely see that happening again as well. I just won’t be around to watch it.

I still want Lucy’s cover to be blown on a UC opp. And I want Tim to suffer a bit from his demotion and to keep that softness that Lucy revealed in him and share it with everyone he loves.

Time to rest.

Andrea

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Hunt - a Malevolent fic

Catch it, she thought, exhaling.

Hunt it, she thought, inhaling.

Her shadow crossed the thing, and it went very still.

Now! she thought, and swung the noose.

Part of the Surrogate series.

AO3

-------

It was an ugly little thing.

A hand long, thin as a carrot, writhing like some kind of carrion worm, it was a strange black with mottled gray shadows. It had five legs with uneven, clever fingers, thin like string, perfect for wriggling into secret places, breaking locks, injecting infection.

The ugly thing scrabbled outside Arthur’s door, trying and failing to get through the many layered spells of protection and repulsion Hastur maintained there. Faroe eyed the intruder, breathing through her mouth to stay quiet, feeling her breath warm the sphere she’d warded around herself. 

How dare it go after her Arthur.

Her fist clenched. She wanted to kill it, to just lunge out and stomp it to death. Beside her, Nibbles shifted, similarly impatient. Dis placed one hand on each of her charges, on Nibble’s side, on Faroe’s back, and tapped her fingers twice in the wait signal.

The ugly thing climbed higher, trying a different spot. It had no chance of getting through. It wasn’t even truly sapient—an automated spell, seeking Arthur for who knew what—and would simply follow its pre-programmed orders until it was caught or faded in the light of dawn.

Nibbles made an unhappy sound, soft.

Their noises were covered thanks to Dis’ wards, but that wasn’t the point. This was not just hunting; this was training to hunt , and that meant being fucking quiet because there were beings out there who’d hear them no matter what spells they used.

Faroe made the shh sign at Nibbles, who dared to look bashful.

Dis nodded. She lightly tapped Faroe’s back thrice. Time to move.

Faroe crouched down, breathing deep and slow, absolutely silent on her soft leather soles. In her right hand, she held a small, dully glowing noose, a horrifying and tiny version of a hangman’s tool; in her left, a backup, she held her wooden knife.

Catch it, she thought, exhaling.

Hunt it, she thought, inhaling.

Her shadow crossed the thing, and it went very still.

Now! she thought, and swung the noose.

The creature was not alive, and had been given specific orders for being caught : it tried to run.

Faroe was practically ten (almost), and was ready. She slammed her wooden knife down in front of the thing, sending it scurrying (automatic) in the reverse direction, right at her little noose—which activated its spell, and it looped around the thing’s form, cinching so tightly it twisted that nasty, charcoal skin. She yanked the intruder off the floor.

It twisted wildly, but made no sound.

Dis tapped Nibbles three times.

Nibbles lunged, mouths open, and snagged the creature—not biting it in half, but holding it so it could not slip away.

Dis dissolved the spells around them. “Well done,” she said, approaching. 

“I want who sent this,” said Faroe in a low voice, rough.

“So do we all,” said Dis, tone flat. “Unfortunately, it probably has its signature hidden like the rest.”

“I want to check, anyway.”

“Sure. We can check. Come on. Good practice,” Dis said, and started down the hall.

Faroe jogged to keep up, sheathing her wooden knife, leaving the noose dangling around the creature’s waist.

Nibbles wanted to kill it so badly , but Faroe needed it alive, so. She satisfied herself by stomping on and popping the three better-spelled things that Faroe couldn’t see—all trying to get into Arthur’s room, too—and then trotted after her charge with a pleased skip in her step.

#

It wasn't carrying poison. It wasn't carrying a curse. It was designed to take, not give.

“Why do they keep going after Arthur?” Faroe murmured as they tossed the hideous thing into the crystal observation tank.

Dis secured the lid. “I have some ideas, but nothing sure. What I do know is him coming into the limelight like he has is a direct cause.”

“Correlation is not causation,” Faroe quoted at her, chin raised.

Dis’ lips twitched. Fuck, she liked this kid. “True. But in this case, I really think they’re linked.”

“Why?”

“Timing, first. Which can be coincidence, but here’s what we’ve observed: these things started after his reveal as host for… uh. Hastur’s spawn.” Dis cleared her throat. “They increased after the poisoning, and Hastur moved heaven and hell to save him.”

Faroe frowned. “What do they want?”

“One of these things will eventually have more instructions,” said Dis, waving her hands over several gems inset in the container’s base. “So far, we haven’t caught anything more complex than ‘gather sample,’ but we will in time.”

Faroe didn’t like in time . It always made her do what Dis thought of as her unhappy dance: foot to foot, shifting her weight, hands lightly clenched, as though preparing to leap at some eventual resolution and punch it in the nuts.

The container hummed.

Inside it, the horrible dark creature shuddered, shed its shadow-disguise, and went a strangely fleshy white, unpleasant and shiny. It whipped, undulating, unable to free itself.

Faroe had asked once if they felt pain.

Dis hadn’t known if they had or not. Then one had gotten loose and attacked Nibbles, trying (and failing) to burrow into her, between her wooden plates.

Faroe had gone dead pale, looked at Arthur’s door (behind which Arthur slept, unaware and vulnerable), and stopped caring whether or not these things could feel pain.

“Same as the others,” Dis murmured, studying the gems. “Signature completely erased. Whoever’s sending these is big, princess. Maybe equal to your dad.”

“Fuck,” Faroe whispered, then peeked to see if Dis heard.

Dis heard. And did not particularly care. “Looks like it’s hollow again.”

“For samples,” said Faroe.

“Yeah. Hate those teeth.”

Faroe shuddered. She didn’t like them either, and given the monsters she’d grown up around, that was saying something.

The creature’s teeth were sharp, needle-thin at their tips, widening shockingly to triangular bases as if designed to bite and scoop what they’d bitten. The thing was lined with these mouths, all over, asymmetrical.

Faroe was clearly still thinking. “But that doesn’t prove it’s connected to his reveal.”

Dis smiled. “Good. You’re right, it doesn’t.”

“So what convinced you?”

And this was the part Dis didn’t want to explain because it probably meant Hastur would have to get involved—and would be none too pleased the three of them had been sneaking around, playing assassin. “Did you set up the alarm wards the way I said in your room?”

Faroe looked caught. “Um. I’m going to?”

“I know Nibbles watches for you,” Dis said gently. “But in the end, your safety is always in your own hands. Set them up tonight.”

Faroe huffed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Nibbles huffed.

“I know, old girl,” said Dis, patting Nibbles’ wooden plates. “Nobody can protect her like you. But even you’re not omnipresent. Right?”

Another huff, this one more agreeable.

“You’ll have your answer tomorrow,” said Dis, and snapped her fingers in front of the gems.

The creature in the container froze, stiffened, and exploded into a puff of white dust.

#

The day went as planned, all signs normal. She caught Parker and Sunny sneaking back from a dip in the lake before dawn (and reminded herself it wasn’t her problem). Heard about minor incursions out in the field—reports of battles in the Dreamlands, scuffles over Hastur’s newly acquired properties. Picked up weird news about ghouls and some kind of underground excursion (she couldn’t get more information). Saw all manner of beings coming to Court who had no business being there, no business with Carcosa, no business with Hastur, but just wanted to see what was going on. 

Hastur was making waves, and Dis didn’t like it. “You’re not the damned head of security anymore,” she reminded herself, then kept reading stolen reports, anyway.

Lester bitched through his training.

Parker laughed when he got knocked down.

Faroe excelled (not that Dis let her know just how well she was doing, lest she slow her progress) at every exercise she was given.

And night came, and everyone went to bed, and Hastur left (which was the only reason they could all sneak around uncaught), and Dis met up with Faroe, prepared.

Very prepared.

Faroe looked spooked, and that was expected. “Another one,” she said. “Just like outside Arthur’s door. But this one… this one was outside mine.” She indicated the creature wriggling in Nibbles’ jaws.

“Correct,” said Dis. “Nibbles has been eating them and not telling you, which is great for safety, but… not great for learning much.”

Nibbles huffed.

“You did good,” Dis assured her, patting. “This is just a new thing, not condemnation of the old thing. You did good.”

Nibbles preened a little.

“So?” said Dis. “What have you found?”

Faroe was a little pale as she held up a fishbowl-like container, and Nibbles spat the invader into it. “They’re only at Arthur’s door and mine. This specific thing.”

“Yes,” said Dis. “And?”

Faroe swallowed. “Why would they want samples from me and him?”

“Work it out, princess,” said Dis. “You can do it.”

“Everybody knows what Arthur looks like now,” Faore said slowly. “Not just the dignitaries invited to the galas. Everybody. And everybody knows what I look like, too.”

“Good. Now, think broadly,” said Dis. “What are the circumstances of his revelation to court?”

“John,” said Faroe. “Whom… everybody thinks is my dad’s spawn.”

Gods, this kid was smart. Dis was proud of her. “Almost there.”

Faroe swallowed. “So that makes Arthur tied—however lightly—to two of my dad’s kids, one spawned, and one not. Though… though he’s never told anyone where I came from.” Faroe looked up. “Are they trying to hurt Arthur to get to him?”

“Close,” said Dis. “I think they’re trying to prove a connection between you.”

Faroe’s eyes popped. “You mean… that we’re related.”

“I overheard some rumors,” said Dis. “And rumors don’t usually mean shit; they grow wild, they interbreed, they’re nutso. But this one was that you were obviously Hastur’s spawn, too, just… made with someone, rather than, uh. Produced.”

“Agamogenesis,” said Faroe, distracted and completely unbothered by concepts she’d known all her life. “They want to know dad made me with Arthur. But why?”

“That, I don’t really know,” said Dis. “It’s not like that knowledge could really be used. Everybody already knows he’s got it bad for his ‘court composer,’ but Hastur would just smash whoever tried to blackmail him.”

Faroe bit her lower lip.

Dis waited.

“Do we need to tell dad?” said Faroe slowly.

“If I were still captain of security, I already would have,” said Dis. “But I’m not.”

And now the look Faroe gave was not that of a practically-ten-year-old. It was hard, firm, and a little grim. “So you’ll do as I order—tell or not tell.”

“Correct.”

Faroe took a deep breath and held it.

Nibbles bleated and bonked her lightly, a helpful nuzzle.

“Yeah,” whispered Faroe. “We’ve already gone too far to avoid getting in trouble over this. So. At this point, we might as well see it through.”

“To what end?”

Faroe frowned. “I don’t know yet.”

“I think, princess,” said Dis slowly, “you’ll need to figure that out soon. Whatever you choose to do here, if you make it decisive , an extension of your will as the daughter of the King in Yellow, Duchess of Ythill, it’ll alter how Hastur responds. You know. As lord of Carcosa, instead of just an overprotective father.”

That seemingly had never occurred to Faroe before. “Ooooh,” she said, eyes wide, lips pursed.

Dis hoped she hadn’t planted a terrible idea too early for Faroe to handle it.

“All right,” said Faroe quietly. “By tomorrow, I will have made my decision.” She sounded… grown. Like this decision mattered. Like she felt the weight of choices that affected more than just herself.

Dis nodded. “Good. Go on and take the night.”

“But we haven’t hunted yet,” Faroe whined, flipping right back into practically-ten.

“You have a big tangle to think through,” said Dis. “Tonight, that’s your practice. Connotations and all, you have to think through it.”

“Fine,” Faroe sighed. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Good night.”

Faroe closed her bedroom door, and Dis heard her feed the captured thing to Nibbles while complaining about tonight’s change of plans.

Dis laughed quietly to herself. Kids.

#

The day was normal. Parker sneaking back from the lake (again). Passive-aggressive foolishness from visitors, never quite loud enough to catch someone’s wrath. The cooks freaking out and getting into little panicky arguments before serving any food; Arthur and John arguing like an old married couple while writing ethereal music.

More talk of the ghouls doing something weird, but it was unsubstantiated and vague, so Dis just logged it away.

(“You’re not head of security,” she reminded herself.)

Normal.

Faroe said not one word to her father about their excursions. Not one word about what they’d found. That told Dis what the decision had been even before evening fell.

Dis checked. The wards in front of both Lester doors were still quite solid. Honestly, it worried her; whoever was sending these things had the patience and foresight not to send anything that might set off an alarm, but relied on a moment of distraction from their creator. That felt like strategy.

After dinner, after they all went to bed, after Hastur left (and after Dis caught Parker and Sunny sneaking out for an illicit dip in the Lake again ), Faroe was ready.

It turned out Dis had not predicted Faroe’s response, after all.

#

“I have come to my decision,” said Faroe upon opening her door, already in her role as daughter of a god and not child. “Here is the one we captured tonight.”

Dis eyed the hideous creature, writhing uselessly in its bowl, asymmetrical mouths chomping nothing. “And?”

“Do you have tracking spells that can’t be detected?” said Faroe.

Dis frowned. “To a certain level. Yes.” To most levels, but she couldn’t admit that, lest it lead to questions.

“Then I suggest we hunt the hunter,” said Faroe, and did something Dis was not at all prepared for. She handed the bowl to Nibbles, who held it via an enormous mouth created for the occasion. Then she opened the lid and put her hand in its place.

Oh, what the fuck— “Wait!” said Dis.

The creature leaped up, super quick, and bit.

Faroe did not wince or cry out.

It dropped back down and went nuts, trying to dig through the glass, mindlessly trying to take its bloody prize in one direction without any reasoning ability to consider the exit past Faroe’s hand.

“There,” said Faroe, healing the small bite. “Cast the tracker and let it go.”

“Faroe!” Dis’ tone was sharper than she liked, but what she wanted to do was curse the girl out (would have, if this had been a soldier under her), and socially, she couldn’t. “You better have a good explanation for this. That could have been venomous. At the least, some kind of infection—”

“It was already thoroughly disinfected before you arrived,” said Faroe, chin raised. “It’s an equivalent wound to a deep blister from an uneven spear handle. We’re fine.”

Dis stared. She sighed. “You’re sure about this. I don’t love the idea of giving this guy what he wants, whoever they are.”

“The only reason it doesn’t have samples of our blood, sweat, and some flesh already is they haven’t gone to the training grounds,” said Faroe.

Smart, smart girl. “That’s… a good point.”

“Also, Arthur has bled all over the palace, for one reason or another,” said Faroe. “Again—they should already have it, if they knew the inner workings of this place. They don’t. All they were able to discover was our bedrooms.”

“They can do a lot with blood, Faroe,” said Dis quietly. “Especially willingly given.”

Faroe hadn’t thought of that. She froze.

“You did well here,” said Dis. “I think you have the right idea. The thing I want to do is make sure it’s not your blood and flesh they get. I don’t care about the training grounds. Someone can be good at picking locks; it doesn’t mean you give up and leave the back door open.”

Faroe wrinkled her nose. Sighed. “You’re right.”

“You’re a smart kid,” said Dis. “The only advantage I have here is experience. This plan can still work—but not with this one. We have to take it out… and I think I know just whose blood to give them in your place.”

“All right,” said Faroe, still deflated, and fed the thing to Nibbles.

#

It was an ugly little thing. Long and wiry, slick and slimy, unevenly constructed and sufficient for one night’s use. It got lucky tonight (or so its owner assumed, and had been counting on), catching the princess as she opened her door to go for a walk for whatever human reason.

It got in one good bite and ran, disappearing (luckier still) before the goat-thing could catch it. Through the pipes, through the sewers, through places so warded and deadly that no living thing could manage, and indeed, it was already shaking and barely whole by the time it reached the portal outside Carcosa and far from Hastur’s purview.

The sample was tested.

“False. This is some adult human male, blond, suffused with non-Carcosan magic, willingly given,” complained the Mi-go checking it. “Not the girl’s.”

“What?” said Pers, leaning in.

“Impossible,” said Cthaeghya, flapping her wings in anger. “That design was perfect. It couldn’t mistake its target that badly.”

“False,” said the Mi-go.

Oryx laughed sharply. “I told you.”

Vorvadoss sighed. “So this was all for nothing, like I said.”

His twin sister rumbled, pleased, green flame licking all around her. “On the contrary,” Yaggdytha said. “This confirms it.”

“How?” snapped Vorvadoss.

“Because they are going to great lengths to hide it,” she said. “I’m sure now.”

“False. ‘Sure’ is not good enough,” said the Mi-go researcher. “Proof is all that matters.”

“Well, suit yourself,” said Yaggdytha. “Dick around all you want. I’m sending a request.”

“He’s gonna say no,” pointed out the weird guy no one could recall inviting, with his bizarrely humanoid and vaguely Egyptian style. “I mean, you won’t get a yes. He’s all possessive.”

“Truth,” said the Mi-go.

“Sure,” said Yaggdytha, still pretending (as they all did) that this “Black Pharaoh” Elder God (so he called himself) wasn’t unnerving. “But it’ll be the first offer of many, many, many. This is a big deal.”

“Truth,” admitted the Mi-go. 

Vorvadoss sighed. “Eventually, someone will offer enough that he’ll be willing to at least trade some fluids. It’s not like the human will miss them.”

“Truth,” said the Mi-go. “The human body equipped with testes produces approximately two to three hundred million spermatozoa a day. It won’t be missed.”

The “Black Pharaoh” cracked up rudely, and they all pretended he wasn’t there.

“Pity someone didn’t keep anything they got their tentacles on before,” Cthaeghya said snidely.

Pers sighed. “I said I’m sorry . How in fuck was I supposed to know he was some kind of superbreeder?”

“Truth,” said the Mi-go.

Yaggdytha rattled into the silence, a soothing sound. “I’ll send the first. We’ll just make it a regular request. I don’t feel the need for more proof.”

“Works for me,” said Vorvadoss, who always followed his twin sister’s lead.

“I am never going to live this down,” Pers muttered.

The “Black Pharaoh” cackled again (and no one looked his way), and then when nobody was looking, he disappeared.

Relief at his absence was more important than any concerns he might give the game away, and they all pretended he’d never been there at all.

#

Meanwhile, Larson proudly wore the bandage on his arm even though he could tell no one about its origin (and even though Dis had healed the wound).

We need it to lay a trap for the King’s enemy using the flesh of one rich in his power, she’d said, and why would she lie about that?

All these sacrifices were sure to pay out someday. He just had to wait.

They’d all see in time.

[emeraldcreeper]

I think I understand why majima is the way he is in kiwami now,,,,,,, Jesus Christ I presume it only goes further downhill for him now

[sugarakis-p2]

High stakes and blood ch 11

Art by Jin Woo Park

Rebel has been caught and bred by Mothman Shigaraki. She has a new dangerous family to look after while her old family needs her. She has to wheel and deal with monsters, who she has a shady past with, and Tomura holds the key to her happiness if he doesn’t kill her first.

Warning: Moth Shigaraki, cock sucking family fighting, cussing, mild violence

Shigaraki and Rebel go home.....what is waiting for them is interesting to say the least. We get to know who's Akuma's daddy is.

“Fuck yeah! Clan rumble! Welcome to the family, big bro Shigs!” Rusty beamed at him. Shigaraki laughed; he could get used to this.

Ch 10

Chapter 11: Blending

The Count is getting nervous.

It has been too long, in his opinion. He is tempted to find the little cunts, save Rebel. He hopes Shigaraki is dead, but if Shigaraki is injured, stomp his head in. His missing eye feels like it has a spike being driven into his brain. A thing he would not do for anyone else other than his Rebel or Lilith. Fucking Mothmen. They are at the height of odd, and his Rebel is into it? 

Like Lilith has said, all he has to do is wait. He's immortal. Shigaraki is a bug, a blip compared to what he will have. He is about ready to escape when the front door bursts open. Shigaraki carries Rebel in snarling and chittering.

“What the hell happened to my stupid slave?” Rebel shouts, hopping down and fussing over the Count. He’s not hating it, but he is deeply confused. 

“Rebel, sweetness, you smell like you have been living in the forest. How the fuck is that is even possible?” Cain asks. She smacks him, and he is even more confused. What the hell are they doing here? That is what he wanted to shout, but he didn't dare with her in his face.

“This entire time, you were supposed to be getting the metal and other shit together. You can just shut the fuck up about what we smell or look like. I would take your damn eye, but it looks like someone has beaten me to it,” she says, looking under his patch that oozed with puss. Rebels words were harsh, but he could see it didn’t have a real bite. In fact, she looked sad, which made his heart sing. Master Kai shuffles in, it's amazing seeing him this close to the entrance. A thing Cain once heard him refer to as the port of disease. He must really want Rebel.

“Sorry. You said I could punish him how I saw fit. I am pleased to see you are alive,” Master Kai shouts from the top of the stairs, "If you like, I can touch you both and make you perfect again.”

“Oh, I would like that. Before you do, Shigaraki and I have some exciting news. On this little impromptu honeymoon of sorts. We decided it would be beneficial to join the family,” Rebel says, coming near but not too much to make the Master uncomfortable.

“Oh, really?” He doesn’t care about the obvious lie. He wants those words bound in blood and Rebel was there dangling it like a carrot in front of him.

“Yes, please give the contract to Cain, and I will be signing. Shigaraki wishes to remain separate in case something were to happen. He can maintain full rights to our offspring. You know how some species are about children,” Rebel says with a smile and holding out her hand. Master Kai is quick. Grabbing her hand can cause momentary searing pain. He altered a little more than he should have.

"I am so pleased. There now you are sanitary and perfect again. Come. You must be hungry."

“Wow, that is amazing. You have such talented hands," she says, sultry walking alongside him, "We are starving."

Shigaraki shoves the Count towards them. Chattering at him in his own language.

“Make a fuss but not enough to prevent her from working. Be sure she gets that mirror and is near the top of the session line in this family.”

“What the fuck is going on?” the Count seethes.

“You’ll know when we want you to know, slave. You are lucky she has some unexplained fondness for you.”

“I was thinking the same about you,” he huffs as he trails Rebel. Shigaraki turns to the man named Chronos.

“I want all our assets gathered and ready to leave for my hive within the hour. No more stalling,” he hisses. Chronos bows and goes to make that happen. Chronos wants this predator out of the castle as soon as possible. He can feel the danger radiating off this one.

Shigaraki sits and waits for his mate. Lying his head back and resting his eyes. He wont let that freak touch him. He'll heal with magic far away fro here. His insane mate, who he can’t help but listen to. Her ideas are lengthy. They hurt his mind thinking of them. What doesn’t hurt is how she takes him in her mouth nearly every morning. It turns him into a pathetic mess, convinces him to go along with her insanity.

She had helped him bask in the moonlight. Nurtured him, let him suckle at her breasts like a babe, let him use her lap as a pillow. She braided and played with his hair.

“It’s gotten longer and paler. I love it like this. Let it grow out, please,” she begged. He said he would think about it, but the truth is he would give her anything if it would make her stay. She found moonlight flowers and created a crown for him to wear. Kissing his scars and sucking his lower lip. Rebel was downright kittenish when she was caring for him. She whispered sweet nothings and held him throughout the night.

He woke up to her sucking his cock.

"What are you doing," he hissed in pleasure. 

"Getting a warm dinner," she said with large innocent eyes. He watches as she takes as much of him into her mouth. Her warm, inviting mouth sucked and licked at his head, like a tentacle twisting, pulling chirps and whines from him. Creating sensations he had never felt before. His flesh was being painfully coaxed into giving his mate all his seed. He wanted to grab the back of her head but resisted. Her eyes were loving and trusting. They sank deep into his soul. He would not think it possible for them to be that large and dark. Two pools of cold bliss that he drank from, his heart raced for her. 

She used both her hands and slicked them with her spit. Rebel worked him until his head was thrown back and pleading pathetically.

"Ah-ah-ah, please more. Right there....no....wait...too sensitive...ah-ah-nngh," he panted. Toes curling, wings vibrating. All of him still hurt, and here she was loudly slurping and swallowing down his throbbing length. He had to yank her away from his knot, but she fought back to make lewd gulping sounds. Her tongue played with his tip, causing him to writhe and flop his wings on the dirt floor. She seized his knot and squeezed. He froze like a weak larva as he shot his pulsing load down her throat. He was only done when she said he was. Rebel sat up with a smacking of lips and an ahhh of satisfaction. 

"You have gotten sweeter, still salty. Tangy like a lemonade with a touch of salt. I wonder if all men taste like you. I will have to ask around," she giggled like a nasty little vixen. She accused him of blushing and teased him until he pulled her to him and nuzzled.  

Rebel told him how much she trusted him, and he didn’t need to bind his hands while they slept in the wild. She wanted him ready in case a predator attacked, but she had no idea how much what she was saying or how much it meant to him. He wasn't ready to tell her yet. He didn't want to remember anyhow.

This last run has shown him that he could not force his Rebel to stay if she didn’t want to. She was too well connected, and there were too many males from all sides unwilling to unhook themselves from her. She laughs because apparently there are more, some women too, she snorted. All the SmithHammers are very well connected. Her family had built many of the foundations of the human cities for an oath. He could not get her to elaborate, saying she was tired, and it came to that they were exempt from certain things. 

She was right when she whispered in his ear.

“Use it. They are fools and don’t understand my desires. You do. You are mine and will help me,” she had said, and Shigaraki did. Yes, he understood it. He could not drag himself from the sweet little liar. The way she deceived and manipulated those around her was an art he was coming to understand was easier than force.

He thinks this is how he can convince the SmithHammer clan. Not with cock sucking, of course. It was simple, really. Yes, all others are to be used, and if they don’t want to fall in line, then he will crush them. He feels Rebel is turning him into a more mature predator. On the way to the hive, no one spoke. The mirror was right there, and a couple of the new hive members were clearly there to spy. Which is fine. Rebel saw so many ways to use that it made her wet, and that’s all he really cared about at this moment.

“Ow! Fuck, you’re being too rough,” Cain whined. Rebel was cleaning out his eye socket with some stringent foul-smelling ointment. Shigaraki felt a tinge of jealously as she seemed genuinely worried for the Count. He had just learned that he liked to be pampered and sucked, and here Rebel was being kind to the biggest whore he’s ever had the misfortune to set eyes on.

“Such a baby. Hold still. You don’t want to be seeping puss all over the place when you see your husbands and wives,” she said, and Cain laughed.

“I’m going with you. I don’t trust I will get a nice living arrangement if I don’t. Plus, I’m not missing the introduction of Daddy SmithHammer to Tomura Shigaraki! That is a drama I will never get to witness again,” He laughed. Rebel was purposefully rough, and he winced but kept laughing.

“What is your father's name?” Shigaraki asked. From the back of the wagon jostling wagon that carried the covered mirror and a huge vampire named Rappa. Shigaraki looked up at the two of them and resisted yanking his mate straight down with him. Rebel looked at him and blushed.

“It’s Daddy,” she says quickly. Shigaraki is still injured, refusing to let Kai touch him. Rebel looks flawless, though. He is beyond aggravated that his mark is gone. This time he will make them life-bonded and ask in a way she won’t say no to. He is not good with what the humans call romance, but perhaps some of his new human family members can help. He hasn’t figured that part out yet, but he can make it happen.

“I understand that is what you call him, but what is his name?” Shigaraki asks.

“You didn’t tell him!” Cain laughs harder, and she smacks him.

“Shut up Cain,” She places his eye patch on and whispers to the Count.

“Tell me what?” Shigaraki growls. Cain’s laughter was rankling him. He should rip him apart, but Rebel is being maternal to him. He grabs her and yanks her down to him. She squeals as he holds her to him.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she snarks at him. He wraps four of his fingers around her neck. She freezes and narrows her eyes at him.

“I could never kill you; it would be killing myself. I can endure a lot of pain and suffering. I can not endure you lying and keeping secrets from me any longer. I thought we had built more between us,” his lip is trembling. He feels very emotional, and the thought she would still be moving away from him after all they had been through drives him mad. He can feel Cain tensing behind him.

Rebel didn’t look angry at him. She softened and caressed his jaw. She gently loosened his grip and gave him what he needed. Pulling the strains of hair away from his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything. I just …. My nature is to be a liar. I still have some issues too. Please, trust me, I will. Not here in front of the mirror,” she whimpers. Rebel snuggles into him and gives him the attention he needs. Stroking his fur until he rumbles with purrs.

“Needy,” Cain mumbles.

When they arrived, it was pure hell on earth. Shigaraki was considering decaying the whole hive and starting over again. He laid low in the wagon while Rebel dealt with the complaints. It was the least she could do, considering she had created this mess. 

“Cousin Izmel is going crazy. The moth people keep flying at the forge. If we move it further, Technically, we won’t be in this territory anymore,” Rusty shouts as the cousins empty the wagon. Five burley stout men, one as tall as Rappa. 

“If they didn’t smell like Shigaraki and have some note…hey, that one is not your baby!” Toga shouts at Mama SmithHammer, who immediately hands her a screeching hissing Akuma, who latches on to Rebel's chest like a vampire. 

“Ow! Fuck, did you really miss me,” Rebel coos to him. Ignoring the adults screaming. She rubs his back. Akuma kneads her breast purring. Cain is delighted.

“He doesn’t like any of the wet nurses! She threatens to stab them if they don’t look more like you. Do you have any idea how absurd that is?” Jenny shouted, pointing to Toga.

“They keep judging us!  And they don’t put out afterwards!”  Twice snarled.  

“That sounds like them,” Rebel sighs. Cain and Shigaraki are enthralled by breastfeeding and the shouting. It’s hard to focus.

“The one called Daddy has insisted I marry Toga,” Mr. Compress shouts, and Rebel finally responds.

“Are you the father? Really, Mister, you dirty dog!” Rebel giggles, and Toga turns bright red.

"You're not married?" Rusty asked and winked at her. Causing Twice and Compress to hiss at him.

“They want us to wear clothes,” Dabi adds. Rebel didn’t even notice he was there. She has so many questions for him. So much news for him.

“They eat everything and have been trying to enslave us,” Rusty rages.

“That one tried to kill me!” Spinner points at Jenny. The roar increased.

“Everyone shut the fuck up!” Shigaraki snarls. The crowd falls silent except for Daddy, who is humming and holding Hana.

“Reminds me so much of my Rebel,” he says with love in his eyes for Hana, “I’m ashamed of all of you. SmithHammers, Rebel is home, and this is not how we treat Rebel coming home.” He says sternly.

“I have the gin!” David shouts. Shigaraki ducks behind Rebel, buzzing with annoyance. She moved greedy Akuma to the other breast.

“What the hell is happening?” He hisses at the back of her head.

“Trust me, they are a lot easier to get along with when they are lit. Plus, look, everyone is getting along for the moment," David, a little one, was plying everyone gin. Everyone but the vampires that hung back quietly in the shadows. Children were drinking, and there were several of them. At least ten in all. Rebel sniffles. He nudges her with his head. 

"I am so happy right now. Look at them. It wasn't too long ago they had dirty faces and were on the brink of starvation. Come on, Dabi, help me down, please.” Dabi helps her, then helps Shigaraki, who is still battered, and hisses at Dabi in anger. It is unnatural to allow any part of his small flock to see weakness.

"I would like to thank my flock for watching out for my family and taking such good care of them. I am eternally grateful," Rebel announced. The flock buzzed with appreciation. They feed off of Rebel's praise.  

The female humans and other members fretted over him. Mr. Compress carried most of them to the hive. The blacksmith cousins stayed behind. 

"Set up the forge over in shadow under that lip of the hive. The flock won't be able to see it," she ordered the cousins. The families separated themselves to make things extra fun around the large table, and Shigaraki noticed Rebel’s family all carried hammers. He noticed because they had them out and staring at the vampires with intense hate. They were at least still willing to share the gin with the flock. 

Rebel seemed to be ignoring all of this and continued feeding the babies. She had his gloves on, and he allowed her to hold and feed Hana. Akuma had to be taken away because he wanted to kill the red baby. He seems to have become quite attached to Rebel. Daddy is holding the red baby, eyeing Shigaraki and Dabi with a hefty hammer within reach.

Dabi was low-key wooing Rebel, so he didn’t mind the man eyeing him. However, this could not stand.

“Mr.SmithHammer,” Shigaraki began. But Daddy interrupted him

“Call me Daddy,” He said.

“None of us want to do that. What the hell is his name?” Toga hissed.

“It is Daddy. All the firstborn males are named Daddy. Rusty is Daddy, Rusty is his nickname,” the Count guffawed. Dabi and Shigaraki looked at Rebel.

“It’s true. If I have a male, its name will be Daddy. It's tradition and a desired occupation for the firstborn male," Rebel says sternly.

“The fuck he will be,” Shigaraki hissed.

“Fine with me, precious," Dabi nudges. 

“Why the fuck does thou care?" Daddy asked, pointing his hammer at Dabi.

“Daddy," Rebel started.

“No! I will accept this one," he points his hammer at Shigaraki, "only because you foolishly gave birth out of wedlock. But you shall be wed by him, and we will lie about when that was to Hana."

“You’re not making my Rebel do shit," Shigaraki flared. Rebel placed a hand on his arm and shook her head.

“She’s our Rebel fuckwit!" one of the cousins shouted. There was a sudden outcry of grievances and racism Shigaraki was not prepared for. 

“You stirred shit on purpose, Count. This is pure silver, Monster!" Jenny threatens with her hammer. "Why the hell are the vampires here?" Jenny piped up louder than the rest.

“Because I don’t trust them to wander around alone and because Cain earned it," Rebel said. Shigaraki stiffened in concern at those words. What did Cain do that earned him anything but a lifetime of torture? 

“Oh, it’s Cain now? I wonder if you're fit to be the head of this family. Look at what you’ve surrounded us with," Jenny seethed, disgusted agreements followed her statement.

“Do you want to challenge me, Jenny?" Rebel asked with an edge of danger.

“Why the fuck are thee challenging her? Thou art still the head here," Daddy said.

“No, she isn’t because I’ll bash her fucking head in. Then yours, old man," Rusty said, placing his hammer on the table. Staring his younger sister down.

“No, I don’t. Just saying," Jenny says meekly. Casting her eyes away, and took another shot of gin.

“Shut the fuck up then. Your new big brother was speaking. Your new Master Cain. My mate. Daddy, please just listen," Rebel said gently to Daddy. 

“Daddy,” Shigaraki cringed, “New flock and old, we have brokered a deal with the Vampire that will be beneficial to all of us. They will provide metal and wood, so the humans can arm and house themselves. Rebel has been spreading the word that we feed our slaves and allow them to earn their freedom. Something I did not know until recently. We are about to have an army show up at our doorstep. Hardened men and women who were abandoned by the people who swore to protect them. This will help us as we go to war with the Order. We must remove the Queen vampire hugger to build the canal. However, once it is built, we will have fulfilled our contract with the sphinx and allow the vampire huggers to multiply again. They are damn delicious, an endless food source, while protecting our massive freshwater supply.

“What hast thou done? Your twin?" Daddy said low to Rebel. Rebel stiffens and looks as if she is about to cry. Shigaraki starts to erupt, but it's not needed. 

“I’m her twin! That is your fault, old man,” Rusty berates. Shigaraki is starting to like his new brother. 

“They are cursed, you know, that right? How is our legacy to live on?" A cousin says. Waving her hand towards the flock and vampires. 

“I had Cain help me broker a side deal. I have Master Kai working on a way to end that curse," Rebel says. Avoiding Shigaraki's harsh gaze. 

“Really! That is fantastic!" Twice shouts. There are chitters and warbles of excitement from the flock. 

“What did that cost us?" Shigaraki asks ominously. 

“More than I want to admit,” Rebel looks sorrowed, “The SmithHammer clan will be separated for a short time. Trust, when I say what we are doing, will leave our legacy much higher than any we could have had in Forestdale or any other land run by the Order," Rebel reassures. 

“But what of the human race?" The matriarch of the cousins asked.

“They lied to us! I didn’t want to believe it, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Come on, I have lived and dealt with monsters all my life, and I am still here. Our fear is what is holding humanity back. Humans will always be here. We will prevail. Cain, tell them. Tell them about the order and monsters," Rebel orders. Shigaraki assumed he would have to be convincing, but it turns out his little Rebel has always meant to be a queen. He plays with her hair. 

Cain tells them how Monsters the order is supposed to be protecting them from are being made for them. Rebel's family lost their mind. Calling them liars. 

"I can believe it. Most of my wet work was for the order. The whole damn religion is a lie! I've been saying our family has been sucking their cocks for too long already!" Rusty shouts over them. Rebel hands Shigaraki Hana and stands.

"But more importantly, they have been fucking with us. No one can fuck with us! They have taken my sister from me and warped her into something that is no longer a SmithHammer. We are SmithHammers! We built their fucking cities, and they spit on us. They have the nerve to go back on their word first. The oath was clear, we are exempt from the offering and prison. Yet our sister was taken, and our uncle sits in prison. With the help of the flock, the first thing we should do is break out Uncle Zee. Let me be clear, as Eldest of the eldest, it is a family decree. You are either with me or you are against me." The matriarch of the cousins hands her baby off to one of her other broods.

“Must be that dwarven blood. Things are about to get fun. Grab your child. In fact, you all should back up in case this gets bloody. You know their last name originates from a clan called the BoneBreakers," The Count chortles. Shigarkai knows one thing about the vampire, he always chooses the safest spot in the room. Rusty has yanked Daddy with red by Shigaraki. 

“You have shit to say, Cousin Sara?" Rebel invites while Rusty flips the handle of his hammer to Rebel and places his small shield next to it.

“You’re Uncle would be the first to tell you this is evil, wrong, and he will have no part of it," Sara says.

“You are married into us, but you never acted like a SmithHammer. You acted like a lackey of the Order," Rusty hissed at her. A few of the cousins ran off while the woman grabbed her shield and hammer.

“Shiggy, please don’t get involved. This has to be settled our way,” Rebel is so quick he barely has time to register what was happening. Rebel and the woman jumped on the table. Meeting in the middle with the clang and sparks of hammers. Rusty is quick as he places himself at an angle to protect the infants. His flock is confused, but the rest of them are treating this almost like a party.

Hana yawns and lazily looks to her mommy with bright red eyes, reaching out to catch the sparks.

“Fuck yeah! Clan rumble! Welcome to the family, big bro Shigs!” Rusty beamed at him.

Shigaraki laughed; he could get used to this.

Chapter 12

[hermannsthumb]

I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.

sure thing! i had fun with this one

----

"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."

Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.

"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."

Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"

"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."

Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"

When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.

"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."

Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.

"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.

"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"

"Huh?"

"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"

"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."

"Ah," Hermann says.

"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."

"And what did you say?" Hermann says.

"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."

This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.

But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.

Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.

"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."

"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.

Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.

Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.

"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."

"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.

"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."

"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."

He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.

Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.

"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.

Another grunt. Newt snorts.

"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."

"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."

"Make up?"

Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.

By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.

He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."

"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"

Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.

"Hmph," Hermann says.

Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."

"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

[violetnotez]

HC: Mineta being a Pervert to the Boys S/o

@dekulover555: Hey could I request something with kamanari/bakugo/deku/kirishima when minnetas being a pervert to a fem s/o and like touching her up even after she’s asked him to stop please and thankyouxx

In which case MIneta can jump off a cliff

Pairings: Kaminari x reader | Bakugo x reader | Deku x reader | Kirishima x reader

(RULES  | MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

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

Kamanari

Usually Kaminari is a pretty chill dude

Him and Mineta used to drool over girls all the time- including you

They had talked and made elaborate plans all the time to see if they could somehow get the girls to be shirtless or get to see them in their underwear- but none of their plans would ever work, they were more just like fantasies they would freak out over

When Kaminari started dating you, those talks kinda stopped- he had a girl now! He didn't need to talk about other girls- he had one he loved and cherished and who was already hot!

So Mineta had been pretty deprived of any type of NSFW talk (cause nobody else was willingly gonna deal with his horny ass)

One day, you were sparring with Bakugo in the gym, when his quirk accidentally lit your shirt on fire

You instantly shouted in surprise, ripping off your PE shirt before it could burn you

MIneta-Boob-Radar Activated

“What the hell Bakugo!” you stood there, your skin turning red from the heat so close to your skin

“Well- you should have dodged it dunce face!”

As Bakugo was red in the face trying not to make eye contact with you, Mineta literally latched onto your leg

“No wonder why Kaminari’s dating you- your chest is amazing!” 

You tried shaking him off, but his grip was too strong- he started making grabbing motions towards your chest and you felt your cheeks get warm with anger

“Get off you of me little purple freak!”

Kaminari had been working with Kirishima, not noticing your dilemma until Bakugo had stomped over to tell him what was happening

Kaminari never got angry easily, but the sight of Mineta trying to crawl up your body made him erupt with rage

You were clearly uncomfortable as you tried to cover up your exposed top portion with a clingy MIneta on you

“Please! One touch, thats all!”

“Get the hell off of me Mineta!’

Kaminari ran over to you, yanking Mineta off your leg as Kirishima and Bakugo followed

your in Bakusquad if your dating Denki, its ride together or die together with this group

“What the hell are you doing dude?!” Kaminari yelled at Mineta who literally had tears in his eyes

This grape is way too damn horny oml

You instantly ran to Kaminari, hugging yourself against him- he always made you feel safe

Mineta trudged off, knowing full well he wasnt getting anything more with Bakugo and Kirishima glaring daggers at him

You hugged Denki, a soft smile gracing his face

“You okay babe?” he asked as he pulled away from you slightly, looking at your face

“Yeah, Im fine- I just need a new shirt, that’s all.”

Thats when it fully registered to him that you didnt have a shirt on- he then noticed how your slighty bare chest felt pressed against his chest, and then he looked down- and oh crap he probably almost had a boner right then and there

“I-uh-um-yeah, that’d probably be best!” he would stutter and giggle, feeling his quirk go into overdrive

“But you do kinda look nice like this though…”

“Denki I swear to god I will kick you.”

Bakugo

Does Mineta want to die?

This boy is POSSESSIVE

AN ANIMAL

You are his girl, his s/o, his lover, his EVERYTHING

If anyone touches what is his he will MURDER them

He overreacts allottt

But this anger definitely comes in handy when you needed a certain pervy grape to get away from you

During a training session, you had the unfortunate fate of being paired with Mineta

It would have been fine, if only Mineta would stop drooling all over you like you were a piece of meat

“You ready, beautiful?” he’d ask before you started your training mission

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore his eyes practically undressing you as you walked past him

Mineta knows full damn well that by you being Bakugo’s s/o, he would get pummeled for so much as thinking such lewd thoughts about you

But he had been eyeing you for so long, and if Bakugo wasn’t around, he thought  he would be okay and not die if Bakugo wasnt near you

Oh how stupid that assumption was

As you two are walking, he just stares at your ass, keeping a few paces behind to watch it as you walk

“Can you not?” you ask, disgust in your voice

“What?” he asks as if he wasnt doing anything, “Im just walking.”

You fight the urge to kick him

You just sigh, turning around- it would be a long class period being paired with him for a training exercise, but you could manage

Of course this little purple idiot begins to start staring at your rear again

Anger and dread bubbles in your stomach- could he just not be like this for one second??

 You could easily pummel him into the ground- but you didnt want to waste your energy on somebody who didnt deserve to have your energy wasted on in the first place

So you continually took the anger that was caused by Mineta’s perverted staring

The icing on the cake though was when you felt a light squeeze on your rear, making you shoot around in shock

There he was, his hand in midair and this disgustingly blissful expression on his face

“Did you JUST-” you practically yelled out, rage and embarrassment making you begin to turn red

“I couldnt help it- it just looked so touchable-” he said, his hand about to touch you on your ass again

You took off in a run, Mineta making grabby hands behind you

You finally found Bakugo, who was paired with Yaomomo

“Katsuki!” you’d yell, running into his arms

He instantly noticed something was wrong- you were cuddled into his neck, giving a very pale looking Mineta a dirty look

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, his face harsh and serious

“He-he,” you gulped, the embarrasment rising, “he touch my, uh-”

Bakugo didnt need to hear anymore- he was concerned Mineta would do this, and now his fear became into reality

He internally kicked himself- he should have known Mineta would pull some pervy shit like that on you- he should have made sure you would have been okay

But that guilt quickly got overtaken by an incontrollable rage

“Did you just touch my girlfriend you fucking pervert?” he’d growl, his voice dangerously low

That meant shit was going down

Mineta gulped, his face paler than a sheet- Bakugo then grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dangling a terrified Mineta in the air

“Where?!”

“Huh?” Mineta asked in fear

“Where the hell did you touch her you idiot?!”

“Her-uh-her-butt-but-” Mineta sqeuaked out, trying to form some sort of excuse

Welp that when Bakugo saw black

You and Momo had to restrain Bakugo as he started going on a rampage, screaming all kinds of profanities

“You fuckng extra!! Im going to kill you! Shes my girl- you have no fucking right to touch her! Do that one more time and Ill blow you ass up! You hear me?! You so much as look at her and your ass will be seven feet under in your own ashes!”

Yeah- Whenever Mineta now sees you he walks the other way, and he hasnt bothered you since

Deku

Deku is very oblivious to Mineta’s harassment

Like- he can’t be that bad right???

*cough cough YES HE CAN

But if you tell him he will be the first to stomp over and give him a piece of his mind

If he sees it- oh he will be so UPSET

Mina has somehow rounded you up into one of her personal projects, in which she was creating an all girl dance

It was you, Momo, Toru, and Mina learning the choreography to a really upbeat girl group song

Tasty Carrots by Shou

You had finally learned all the choreography, now switching into outfits so Mina could put it into her social media

This girl def has a Tik Tok

Mina has put you all in little skater skirts, yours being high waisted, pleated, and reaching just barely reaching your mid thigh

Mina was squealing- “You all look so cute!!! We are TOTALLY going viral!”

Right as Mina started the music, and you began to do a few practice runs, Mineta and Kaminari walking past

Mineta had spotted you all from like a mile away

His literal wet dream- a bunch of girls dancing in little skirts

None of you notice though- you just continued with the choreography, attracting a little group on onlookers from the blaring music-including Midoriya

Mineta had pulled out his phone half way through and instantly started taking pics

At one part of the dance you have a tiny duet part with Mina where you bend down slightly

This perv instantly got right under you and took a whole ass pic

You heard a flash and look between your legs, seeing  the purple idiot

You screeched, your face red as you yanked your skirt down

Mina instantly started yelling at Mineta, trying to catch the little idiot while Kaminari tried to yank his phone away from him

Izuku was filled with raged-how dare he do that to you?!? He was about to give him a piece of your mind, but seeing your embarrassed face made him think otherwise

He ran over, wrapping you into a hug

You were feeling so dumb-you didn’t even notice the little group of onlookers forming, making you feel even more embarrassed

Midoriya then sees Mineta run past, and as if on instinct grabs him by the arm

Mineta squeaks, regret riding through his body-nobody has ever seen Midoriya look this mad

Izuku yanks Mineta’s phone out of his hand, quietly searching through his camera roll

He finds the picture and hi face turns a little red because geez you do look really hot-

He quickly (and permanently) deletes it, so Mineta can’t go into his recently deleted, and hands it back to him

“Don’t you ever, EVER do that again.” The threat seemed simple but the way Midoriya voice was full of ice and his eyes on fire made Mineta’s skin turn cold

Kirishima

sorry if this one seems longer than the rest!

It was the end of the year and Yaomomo had invited everyone to her house for a big summer celebration pool party!

Of course everyone was excited- Yaomomo was rich and her house was beautiful and massive! Also she was the best hostess anyone could imagine

Mineta was excited for another reason- he couldn’t wait to see all the girls in bathing suits of their own choice, not the dumb leotard-like ones the school made them wear

Secretly hoped they were as skimpy as possible

Momo had invited all the girls the night before to a massive sleepover- you all went shopping for new suits at a beach themed boutique

Of course it was super expensive, but the owners of the shop were friends of Yaomomo’s parents and gave you all a FAT discount

Everyone was super happy with their suits- yours was all red,  with a strappy red top, the bottom also matched in color and were slightly high waisted and showed off the sides of your thighs

The next morning you all spent time getting ready and helping Momo prepare to when everyone else came

Everyone started trickling in and greeting each other, getting snacks supplied by Momo and swimming or dancing to the “Top 50 Songs” playlist blasting outisde

You were in the kitchen getting some punch with Mina when Kirishima and Bakugo came in

Bakugo looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, while Kirihsima was just excited to find you and have some fun!

When Kirihsima saw you- his mouth dropped- you looked seriously stunning and he couldnt make his heart stop pounding so hard

Also your wearing red- he can try to act as chivalrous as he wants but he cant deny that red on you makes him go CRAZY inside

“Kirishima!” you yell happily when you see him, running over to give him a hug

He instantly twirls you around and tells you how pretty you look

You go outside and everyone begins to hang out, playing some games, swimming, dancing, or just plain mingling

Mineta is of course on a mission- he is just sitting in a really dark corner of the party pratically trying to memorize how all the girls look and drooling like a perv, concocting a plan in his twisted head of his

The moment he hears Uraraka yell- “Who wants to play volleyball- Boys vs Girls!” He instantly jumps up- now was time to get his plan in action

You and Kirishima join Uraraka, Izuku, Kaminari, Mina, Bakugo, and Tsuyu in the game

What you all didnt notice was Mineta, who was waiting patiently to pounce on one of the girls- he unfortunately chose you as his victim

When you wadded towards the end of the pool to try and save the ball, Mineta had reached over and pulled at one of the straps of your top, easily detangling it from your chest

You felt something loosen- and then horror rippled throughout your body

You qiuckly ducked under the water, only your eyes visible as your face was on fire

Mineta at first was cheering, your top tangled in his grubby hands, but then everyone started screaming at him, Mina throwing every threat she could think of while Uraraka tried to block you from sight and Froppy got you a towel

What really terrified Mineta was Kirishima- he was desperately trying to crawl out of the pool, all the boys trying to restrain him because he was literally going to KILL Mineta

Nobody had ever seen Kirishima that mad- even Bakugo

Mineta ran off, still holding onto your top as Tsuyu wrapped you in a towel

Kirishima ran over to you, wrapping you in a hug

“You okay? Im so sorry that happened! I’ll get your top back- I promise!”

And this boy did-of course after he calmed down- while Bakugo followed suit

As much as Bakugo hates to admit it, he does like you and you being his best friend’s girl, he protects you as much as Eijirou does

They both found where Mineta was hiding, Bakugo grabbing the little grape while Kirishima rambled on about “how unmanly that was” and how Mineta needed to “respect women and be more chivalrous”

Also may or may have not have told him that if he ever did anything like that again he wouldnt hestitate to teach him a lesson

After that little stunt, Yaomomo kicked him out of the party, all the girls breathing a sigh of relief

Kirishima came back, all the girls sitting around you and giving support-but once they saw Kiri they’d knew you’d be okay and gave you some privacy

This boy cuddled the crap out of you for the rest of the day and didnt wanna let go

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

Requests open| Matchups closed!

[comfortwriting]

Feels Like Flying - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 07: Is this seriously their idea of a good time?

About: After moving to London you land a job at a local pub, meeting the love of you life; Fred Weasley. One year into the relationship, you find out he’s a wizard and meet his family - they are all absolutely fascinated that you are a muggle - but you can’t help but feel left out of a world better than your own.

Warnings: Ten year age gap relationship, one paragraph of light smut.

Moving to London and getting hired at the worlds most boring pub to support your lifestyle as a University Student turned out to the best thing that ever happened to you, during a late shift, a tall ginger haired man walked in and asked for a drink - you were captivated by his smile, his voice, his everything. 

He would come in once a week, then twice, then so often you memorised his drink order and name, within the next few weeks the two of you went on a late night date and couldn’t get enough of one another. 

You knew that the ten year age gap between you would be hard at first, and would cause people to whisper and react strangely, but you didn’t care - Fred Weasley made you happier than anyone else ever had, when you were with him, you felt like you were flying. 

“I just don’t understand why I can’t meet your family already” you complained, closing your textbooks “we’ve been together a year, you live with me, Freddie.”

Fred chewed the inside of his lips and sighed “I know love, it’s just not the right time-”

You shook your head and turned around in your chair to face him “I know you’re a wizard.”

Fred’s jaw dropped, he stared at you as if you had grown another head “how-”

“It’s obvious, you talk about muggles - I’m one myself, I’ve seen you come home through the fire place, you’ve burst out of thin air in the bedroom after you’ve been out drinking with George, I’ve seen your wand, which is against Wizarding Law by the way.” 

Fred felt stupid and put his head in his hands, he finally looked at you, walking over and planting a kiss on your head “you never miss a beat, do you?” 

You shook your head “no, so when am I meeting them?” 

Fred paused for a moment, going through his work schedule “Friday, for dinner?”

Your excitement died down as soon as you sat down at the dinner table at the burrow, Fred’s father, Arthur stared at you like you were a pile of gold, mesmerised with every breath and move you made. 

“we’ve heard that some muggles can do magic, is that true?” Arthur beamed at you. 

you smiled “well, if the muggle in question comes from a family descended from wizards that possess no magic are able to use a wand in a semi-controlled fashion” you paused for a moment and frowned “but I’ve never tried, my family history has no trace of wizards.” 

“can you play wizards chess?” Ron butted in, mouth full of food, his wife Hermione scolding him about his table manners. 

“Thanks to technology we have automated chessboards - so yes, its wizards chess but the only difference is there's no magic, just electronics.” you replied, feeling more flustered. 

You had always been amazed by Fred’s magic whenever you saw it, you did everything you could learning about the wizarding world and it fascinated you - but you had never felt like you were missing out on anything, not until tonight. 

With each and everything question that swam your way, you felt more and more isolated, more insulted and worthless - you were living in a complete different world. You would never be able to fly on your own broom, you could never play Quidditch - yet they were all envious and fascinated by you; an ordinary person living an ordinary life.

Finally free from the interrogation, you walked over to help Molly wash up but she stopped you “go and watch the game of Quidditch, dear.” she smiled. 

You followed her orders and promised to help her after the game, walking out into the garden, George’s young children ran over to you, the smallest one stretching out her arms asking to be picked up. 

Lifting her into your arms you sat down and watched the large Weasley family play quidditch, all on their brooms, flying and having the time of their lives whilst you had to watch and entertain children - all you were good for being a muggle.

‘Is this seriously their idea of a good time?’ you thought to yourself, the jealousy brewing inside of you, feeling like a carrot of what you could have been was being dangled right in front of you, only for it to be snatched away as you reach out for it. 

You took your focus off the game and back on the kids, trying to swallow down your jealousy, but your boyfriend Fred could sense something was wrong. 

Once the game had come to a quick end, you fulfilled your promise to Molly and helped her washup, you could feel everyone’s eyes burning into your back, you could hear the ‘ooohs!’ and ‘look at that’ as that marvelled at you doing the most simple task in the world.

“My husband Arthur has an obsession with muggles, I hope he wasn’t overbearing dear.” Molly said softly, pulling you into a motherly hug. 

“Not at all” you replied quietly, feeling tears prick your eyes. 

Laying in Fred’s bed, the whole house fast asleep, you stared at his bedroom wall, tears running down your face and jumping onto the soft pillow. 

Fred still awake and spooning you heard the snuffles “what's wrong, love?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing” you replied, lying. 

Fred sighed and pulled you closer to him, his face nuzzling into your neck “please tell me, Y/N” he muttered softly.

You swallowed hard “I’m jealous, alright? you can fly on your broomstick, you can tell something to move and it will, you can make a mouse turn into a teacup - you can fly, Freddie.” your voice croaked.

Fred stayed silent for a moment, feeling guilty for bringing you into a world where you had no power - but an idea came into his brilliant mind. 

“get you dressing gown on” he chirped up, pulling away from you, he got out of bed as fast and as quiet as he could, shoving his feet into his slippers. 

You followed him, getting dressed and putting your matching slippers on, Fred took you downstairs and grabbed his broomstick, leading you out into the garden, the moonlight beaming down on you. 

Fred balanced the broom and mounted it, encouraging you to get on, you wrapped your arms around him, holding on for dear life as the broom lifted off the ground and rose up higher into the air, above the windows and the roof. 

“Enjoy my love” Fred called out against the wind.

Your heart filled with joy, you were flying - you could see the stars more clear than you ever had in your life, you could see the top of the trees and get a glimpse of sleeping birds and hooting owls, you could see everything dreams were made of. 

Landing by a small lake, the two of you got of the broom, you took a little longer to regain your balance. 

“Oh Freddie!” you squealed “that was incredible! to be able to mount your broom whenever you like and just fly like that - you’re lucky, I wouldn’t ever want to do anything else again, you can leave whenever you want and feel the wind brush against your face and through your hair-” you stopped to catch your breath “and the views! you’re so lucky!” 

Fred’s heart skipped a beat as you spoke, expressing your happiness out loud always reminded him of how much he truly loved you. He walked towards you and pulled you into his arms, his soft lips kissing yours, the two of you collapsing onto the grass.

Under the moon light you undressed out of your dressing gown, slippers and nighty, Fred got undressed and collapsed onto you. His soft lips grazing your skin, kissing you and nipping you teasing you all over.

Giving into his touch, you melted into him and became undone, your moans and his groans spilling out and into the lake, his length gliding inside and out of you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out and leaving you empty, hungry and desperate for his touch. 

Laying in the grass in Fred’s arms, he looked at your gorgeous face and smiled to himself “if I were to ask you to marry me, would you say yes?” 

You nodded your head “of course”

Fighting against the cold you got back into your pyjamas and turned around to see your boyfriend pulling flowers from their long stems and braiding them into a ring, remembering what Ginny he taught him when he was a teen. 

Getting down on one knee, he looked up into your eyes nervously “I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this but I know if one thing is for sure, I want to marry you Y/N. Despite being a wizard in a world of magic and being able to fly off into the sky - you’re the only one who has made me feel anything close to magic” he paused, taking hold of your hand “you make me...what we have feels like flying.”

Tears of happiness collected into your eyes, tiny pools of love and surprise. 

“Y/N...will you marry me?”

You smiled widely and nodded “yes, I will Freddie.” 

Pushing the floral ring onto your finger, Fred pulled you into his arms tighter than he ever had before. 

Tags: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @lucymfer

[blueinkphantom]

Thinking about who I wanna hurt today with angst...

/dsmp /roleplay (all names are characters)

Just one thought I have is, what would happen if Quackity just continued with the torture and didn’t trap Techno with Dream inside.

What if at some point Dream just completely breaks? He doesn’t move anymore. No sound comes from him. No reaction. Nothing. He’s just still, silent. Unresponsive as if there was no life in him. His eyes don’t move except for the occasional blink that keeps the eyes from drying. There’s no indication of life except for the slow and shaky rise and fall of his chest that comes with breathing and the blinking.

How would Quackity react to this Dream that might as well be dead? Does he keep on inflicting physical pain? Or would he stop, realizing it’s become completely pointless by now? Is he disturbed by what his actions caused in a person that was once full of life? He might try to get a reaction by new tactics. A potato dangling in front of Dream’s eyes. Later on a carrot, a beet, a cookie, a piece of cake. It doesn’t matter what he puts in the other’s line of sight. There’s no reaction. Nothing except the breathing and blinking. No light suddenly appearing at the sight of food that’s been kept from him. No fear at the sight of netherite weapons or shears. Nothing. No emotion sparks behind the eyes of the now unmasked man.

How would Sam react once he learns of this new... change? Will he think it’s another attention-seeking action? What will it take him to be convinced that Dream really is broken now? Who accepts it first? It looks similar to a few times when there was no visitor. Similar to many of the aftermaths of Quackity’s sessions. Times when Dream was also just lying on the floor. Except there were more sounds. More pained grunts as he tried to slowly get himself into a corner. Trying to reach the small space between chest and wall. The sounds that were missing now. The life was drained out, leaving something that might as well be a corpse. Both considered making the breathing body exactly that.

Would anyone else ever find out? Maybe Techno would somehow. After all, he might have planned to visit him anyway. If he was turned around and forbidden entry, would he force his way in? Once met with the still body of his rival, what will he do? There seems to be two options. The first, taking Dream out of this huge tool box and get him back if that was even possible. With the lack of any response, it seemed a bit unlikely. Which would leave the second option. Death by his rival seemed like a death with more honor than death by your enemy and torturer. Techno didn’t need his ally to tell him where these wounds came from or the dead-like state. It was obvious.

Will Bad ever visit again? Will Bad ever step foot into the prison as a guard as well as Ant? Once the crimson fully left their brain, is it possible that Bad remembers something he wanted to do and finally gets to it? Would Sam be able to stop Bad and Ant from figuring out anything? Maybe with some words about how dangerous Dream is but would that even work if both are allowed armour in the prison as guards? They might be the ones to tell the rest. After all, Sam didn’t so far and both doubted he would. Looking at the broken shell of his friend, would Bad know that there was more than the simple conditions Pandora’s Vault at fault for it? He might try to get Sam to tell him what happened. How much would he be informed of? What will he do with the knowledge and job at the prison?

How would Sapnap react once news reach him? Will he think that it’s even possible to break Dream to the point of a death-like state? The last time he saw him, Dream seemed so convinced that he will break out at some point. This Dream... this Dream doesn’t look like he want that. He went there himself. He needed to if he really wanted to believe the words of the others. But he still couldn’t truly wrap his head around. The body lying there had to be someone or something else but not Dream. But it was Dream, he just couldn’t truly accept it. How could one accept that they lost their friend once again but this time some other way? This time not to a spiraling into madness but to a state of utter lifelessness despite the small bit of life still noticeable in the breathing and blinking.

Would George learn of it? When Sapnap tells him, would he think it’s a dream first? After all, there’s no way Dream is actually gone. The denial is quite similar to other times. He still doesn’t go inside the prison. He prefers the Schrödinger state instead. As long as he doesn’t see Dream’s unmoving body, there’s still the possibility of it not being true. Dreams are not a place he can hide in anymore. XD seems to... he doesn’t know what word would fit. Calling for the god didn’t bring him to the mortal. When he slept, there were no dreams to be had. It was a bit unnerving. He tried to ignore it. Tried to sleep it away. There wasn’t anything entertaining. There wasn’t anything he wanted to see.

What would Wilbur do once he learns of the empty shell his hero is now? The poker face he had on when told of the news circulating was unreadable. Meanwhile his brain tried to register the words spoken to him. Dream. The man who resurrected him, who saved him from the gray of limbo, was shattered. The one that looked fine on that train station when coming to get him. But thinking back, that might have been an illusion based on memory. It was the spectral plane. No reason for actual appearances to transfer. More the last view one had of the person and the last Wilbur saw of Dream was the man standing above the country that was blown up. A Dream that was strong, undefeatable, unbeatable. The unmoving body that lays in the walls of void-dark stone was a mockery. Thinking about it more rational, it made sense. Everyone has a breaking point. Be it the one for craving death, the one for lashing out or the one for becoming truly numb. It was foolish to think Dream was different. But Dream was the villain. Only the middle should be possible for him, shouldn’t it?

Who would believe this to be truly Dream now? Who is gonna deny it and say it's just another manipulation tactic? Would anyone try to get Dream back? At least in a way that he reacts? A few might. Some might want to leave him like this. Some might want to take his last life.

How would everyone react?

W̴̨̜̃̏͒͑̇̓̐̆̄͘h̷̨͉͇̻̫̊̈̈́͗̒̄̊͌̾̕ä̸͓̩́̀̑͊̆͋t̴̜͖̞͇̬͇̝̬̰̏̈́̽͌̈͝ ̴̛̭̖̝̜̭̩̙͔̱͊͛̾̑̆͊̕w̸̍́͊͘͜o̴̰̥̟̳͎͂̀͘û̴̮̣͇̔l̵͎̼͎̾̔d̶̳̍̎ ̴̬͇̖̞̰̿͐̎̍͗̔͝Ẍ̸̡̬̠̻̱͑̃͂͒D̴͔̞̣̦̜̹̟̅͒ ̵͈̠̜͎͕͓̣͓̦͌̈̇̒͠d̶̡͇̳̭̃̽̔ǫ̶̡̺̎͌̃̐̔̅̑͂͛̕?̷͖̃̊̊͂͆̊́

[theropoda]

saw some discussion of majima's Mad Dog Persona©®™ on twitter and thought itd be nice to put down my thoughts on it somewhere. spoilers for y0 and y4, sorta. i get a little emo so this is kinda long and unnecessarily wordy

if you ask me it's all about control and being used. in 1985 he and saejima are used as pawns, small part of something so much bigger. they thought they knew what they were doing, what their purpose was but they didn't. they didn't know the truth of their actions and what they were really being used for. the truth itself is something i don't fucking understand tho lol, the plot of yakuza 4 is such convoluted nonsense and my least favorite of all the games so far because of it. idk what happened all i know is that they were both used

and he's used in the hole, cause god knows that his torturers weren't doing this shit out of just duty but for fun, blow off some steam and frustration by going into the hole and kicking the poor dude's teeth in.

and in the grand he's used, like a donkey with a carrot dangling in front of him, always being told oh, make a few million more and we'll let you back into the clan. and when he reaches that goal, it's a few million more, actually. of course no one's gonna let go of this cash cow.

and oh my God. the entirety of yakuza 0 he's used and he's used in the worst most heart wrenching way possible oh my fuck.

im coming to that part of this post where i lack the energy to articulate my thoughts both cause i simply am tired and because im being EMO!!!!!!! but that entire scene.

shimano revealing that he KNEW that he sent majima to kill makoto because he KNEW that he couldn't kill her, and would instead protect her.

it's not just "following my orders without realizing their true purpose" anymore. it's "going against what ive been told to protect who i love, thinking i was doing something right, only to be told i was following the plan." imagine thinking you were saving someone, only to be playing into the hands of the people who wanted to hurt that someone.

how heart shattering and humiliating that must've been??? to realize that your actions were not your own!!!!! and the words that really fucking hammer that shit in and made me lose my mind a little, "i know ya better than ya know your damn self."

not just his actions but his feelings too. i have my issues w majima and makoto's relationship but the idea that even something as intimate as their love and trust was just a stepping stone to a bigger goal, something like that just being used for shimano's reach for power, that shit hurts.

EVERYTHING about majima was used. predictable. i cannot imagine how it feels to be seen through like that. it must be so fucking dehumanizing, again the actions you thought were your own were not your own. you were just being used for something else bigger than you. feeling like a puppet.

that entire series of events is the crux of his mad dog persona for me, his breaking point. this persona has changed and developed over the years, shifting to fit new needs like a dinosaur (because dinosaurs were CRAZY successful and versatile, don't let anyone tell you otherwise, you'd fucking go extinct if a big ball of fire hit you too) but its foundations really lay here.

it's born out of the sickness of being used again and again. your body is used and your FEELINGS are used, all actions that you thought were your own were not your own. everything about you is calculated.

but you can't be used if you're unpredictable. if you're nuts. the mad dog persona evolved, imo, to save majima from being used. he shows the world a fake, exaggerated version of himself keeping his true self hidden so no one knows what he's thinking or what he'll do next. now he can't be controlled, he controls himself, and he's no longer afraid to do what he damn well pleases. no one's going to tell him what to do.

as i said before, this person changes over time as he meets kiryu and co, reunites with saejima, etc...but that's for another time i think.

BEFORE i end this post i should definitely say; i think people ignore lee and sagawa's role in inspiring him to live the way he does. it's always nishitani nishitani nishitani, which yeah he did but lee and sagawa were a big impact on him too and i love that. i could write a whole lot on sagawa and majima's relationship but i'll say that the fact that majima learned a lesson (tenacity, in particular) from his literal abuser and captor is part of his adaptability. this man has done horrible things to him yet he was still able to...learn something from him. he makes do with what he has, learns whatever tricks life can give him, even if it's through pain and torture at the hand of some piss drinker.

[kkeidawrites]

That Night

Chp. 3

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Another banquet was in full swing in the next couple of days that the moon goddess had first arrived and once more the same activities from before resurfaced. The sunrays of Asgard minimized to a light hue of yellows and purples, it would soon be night.

Gods and Goddesses, Dukes, Duchesses, Lord and Ladies alike littered the alabaster halls of the banquet hall. Each one dressed to impress, all colorcoded for the theme. How can anyone have so many parties every other day? It’s exhausting to say the least. Just imagine how much the servants had to prepare in such little time, it will amaze you.

This time the party was held in the gardens, overlooking Asgard’s lavish lands of green fields. Men and women rode horseback to play games, others included themselves in a fighting ring while everyone else lounged about and talked.

The food never disappoints and it seemed to never run low. Before your head would turn away from the lavish feast, it would automatically refill itself. Everything looked beautiful, the gold trim that surrounds the white pillars and green shrubbery elongated and twisted in beautiful vines around the pillars and added a bit to the dining tables as well.

For someone who has never been to Asgard and this was their first time they would be enthralled with the beauty of this place; the gold, the alabaster stone walls, the food, the style, the attire. It was like a dream come true. Except maybe a certain, moon goddess, who thought differently.

Mawu was bored. Stupid bored in fact. She was that bored that she had brought along Irawo to the banquet to keep her entertained. And let’s not forget the God of Mischief himself to keep her company as well. How delightful.

They stood at two different tables although it didn’t help the fact that Frigga used her powers to make sure that the tables were at least facing each other and with it she spelled the tables to only allow them to walk to and from their tables.

“Three hours you two,” she told the two as her fingers flexed to allow her magic to filter from her fingertips. “The spell will break once the hours are up, until then why don’t you both talk. Get to know one another.” She gave her charming smile and left the two beings.

“‘Get to know one another’.” Mawu mocked them scoffed in annoyance as she watched Irawo hop around on the table.

Mawu saw that there was no point in trying to break the All-Mother’s spell and occupied her time playing with Irawo; Loki in the meantime was doing everything in his ability to break his mother’s spell. From time to time you would see the illuminated green light of his spells.

Mawu feeds Irawo another carrot and the chunky rabbit munches it down, greedily and wiggles his nose in Mawu’s direction, happily waiting for the next carrot to be given to him and the goddess smiles.

“Sorry, Irawo. I don’t want you to pass out on me and go into a carrot coma,” Mawu teases and the rabbit stomps his foot.

“No more carrots right now, okay?” She watches as the rabbit begins to groom his head aggressively to show that he was unhappy. Mawu shakes her head and placed a hand under chin as she watched the festivities unfold.

She couldn’t believe that she had to stand in this one spot for the next, now two hours, and not be able to move anywhere. Mawu so desperately wanted to go horseback riding, and use swords against the opposing team. Hell, even the fighting ring looked appealing. It was much more entertaining than stand here and be bored.

“Damn it.” She hears Loki sigh out in frustration and looks to her right to see the green wearing God cross his arms and lean against the table in frustration.

“Having fun over there?” Mawu teases and Loki glares at her.

“I thought we agreed to only tolerate one another until you left Asgard.” Mawu rolls her eyes and turns back to Irawo.

“You spoke to me about it. I didn’t agree to ahem, tolerate you. As long you don’t bother me I won’t bother you.” Mawu tells him and Loki grits his teeth.

Irawo turns to Loki and wiggles his nose, sniffing the air and his gold eyes noticed the carrots on Loki’s plate. He squeaks and jumps from the table making Mawu gasp.

As he landed on the grass, Irawo uses his paws to groom his face once more then used his nose to snif around the area then pounces over to Loki’s table.

“Irawo! Come back!” Mawu calls to the black bunny, who promptly ignored her and began pawing at Loki’s leg to have him pick him up.

“Heh, little mongrel.” Loki reluctantly picks up the rabbit and placed him on the table where he quickly grabbed a carrot from his plate and proceeds to eat.

Mawu sighs heavily and moved over to Loki’s table to look down at the rabbit. She placed her hands on her hips and glared, disappointed at the bunny.

“I said, ‘no more carrots’.” Mawu said and watched as the rabbit takes a lettuce and eats that just as quickly as the carrot.

“You would refuse your pet food? How cruel of you, I thought you were the Goddess of Knowledge and Wisdom, shouldn’t you know that everyone has the chance to eat?” Loki says and Mawu frowns in annoyance.

“I am trying to limit him from eating so much, he had dinner less than an hour ago and the snacks I had was his snack. Breaking him of this, won’t allow him to limit what he eats.” Mawu says trying to pick up the rabbit but, Irawo squeals and moved over to Loki, the God of Mischief barks out a laugh in victory and Mawu glared at him.

Irawo snuggles his muzzle into the God’s hands and Mawu crosses her arms.

“Fine, stay here with him then.” Mawu pouts as she returns to her table and takes a sweet bun and begins to chomp on it, annoyance written all over her features.

Loki grins triumphantly and scratches under the rabbit’s chin to have his foot stomp in pleasure of the scratches.

“Well done, little hare.” He praises the furry creature. “Well done indeed.”

The next two hours went by excruciatingly slow and Mawu breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of restraint on her body lifted off of her.

Stretching her arms, Mawu sighed and looked to Loki’s table to see the trickster playing with Irawo. He dangled the silk rope that held his cape against his back, above Irawo as the rabbit hopped to try and grab it.

It would seem that she didn’t need to keep an eye on Irawo and Mawu hopped that Loki wouldn’t do anything to her little friend. Not sensing any ill intentions towards Irawo from Loki, Mawu made her way over to the stables where the horses were being tended to for tonight’s parties and approached a stablemate. She could see that all the horses were gone and prayed that at least one horse was still available.

“My lady we unfortunately do not have any available horses for you to use.” The young male stablemate told her and Mawu pouted a bit.

“I guess it can’t be helped-” The sound of neighing turned Mawu’s body to watch as two stablemates that could be strongmen in the circus back on Earth, hold the reigns of a large black unicorn. It tussled with the reigns it was bonded in and pulled on it to make the men stop pulling it.

The unicorn neighed in anger and stomped the ground to force the men to drag it. Mawu was amazed at how big it was and seemed drawned to the unicorn.

Mawu felt her feet move as she approached the mystical being. The stablemate watched her in perplexed fear and reached out to stop her.

“My Lady, you mustn’t approach him!” The stablemate stepped in front of her making Mawu stop and look down at the young man.

“That colt was bred by a demon horse and ever since it has been a struggle to keep it under control. It won’t let us come close to it and we have to use force in order to control it-”

“Him.”

“M-My Lady?”

Mawu glared at the young man.

“Do not call him, ‘it’ he is a strong horse and surely calling him out of his name does little to gain his trust.” Mawu says as she walks past the man and continues her travel to the two bigger men.

The one on the right holding the unicorn’s reigns turned to Mawu and fear lit up in his eyes as the Goddess continued to approach the horse, who reared back in effort to be released from his clutches.

“My Lady, please stand back! He’ll kill you!” He warned but Mawu stops and turns to the two men.

“Let him go.” Was all she said.

“But-But, My Lady-!”

“Let. Him. Go. Please.” Mawu says again, still watching the unicorn who began to huff out angry air from his large nostrils. His green and gold eyes glared at the goddess and stomped his upper left hoof in anger.

The two strongmen looked to one another and then released the reigns taking several steps back readying themselves for the horse to begin to buck and cause havoc around the stables.

The unicorn did indeed rear back on its hind legs and Mawu watched him intently, being mindful of his hooves. Once the horse returned to all fours, Mawu raised a hand out, her palm facing the horse who huffed out another angry snort.

Trotting around Mawu, the Goddess didn’t let up from her spot, her hand still out, waiting patiently. Her plan was to allow the unicorn to relax around her and let him come to her. Let him trust her in his own time.

As the unicorn calmed, he nods his head up and down, snorting the last of his anger out and trots over to Mawu. He sniffs the back of her head and then nibbles her neck, making the goddess stifle a giggle. He then moved to the left side of her face and sniffs her some more. All the while the three stablemates stared in disbelief. They have been trying to get close to the unicorn for the past two months and the moon goddess was able to allow him to get close to him in less than 30 minutes.

Mawu showed that she wasn’t a threat to the unicorn and her calming aura allowed the horse to calm him down.

The unicorn then nibbles on her raised hand then sniffs it. Taking a step back, the unicorn looks in the goddess’s eyes and sees that he was indeed not in danger and hesitantly allows his muzzle to press into her palm.

Mawu gently rubbed his muzzle then moved her other hand and scratched under his chin. The unicorn neighs in delight and moves his head closer to receive more scratches.

“What is his name?” Mawu asked her eyes still trained on the unicorn.

“H-He d-does not h-have a name.” The youngest stablemate says and the unicorn neighs softly.

“Hmm....how about Gbekele?” Mawu asked the horse who unexpectedly nodded his head, then nibbling her scratching hand.

“My-My Lady, do you p-plan on riding him?” The young man asks the goddess.

“He still does not trust me, I do not think he would let me ride him.” She says and grabs the unicorns reigns, leading him to a stall. As he approached the stable Gbekele began to trot in place, fear returning to his eyes as Mawu did her best to calm him down.

“Gbekele, please calm down,” she tells the beast but, it rears back in terror making Mawu release his reigns.

“Lady Mawu, stand back!” Her eyes cut to the left and she sees Thor and two more stablemates come rushing into the stables.

“No! Don’t come any closer!” She tells the men but, they seemed to not hear her as the four stablemates run past her and try and grab the reigns of the beast. Gbekele rears back and neighs in anger.

Mawu felt his aura become more and more confused and his anger rose tenfold.

“No, please! Don’t touch him!” She yells to the men who once again either ignored her or didn’t hear her. One man was able to grab the reigns and another grabbed the back of his bridle. The horse rears back in anger and begins bucking. The unicorn spins in a circle as he continues to buck and Mawu was unfortunately close enough to luckily miss the hooves of the horse, make her stumble on her feet and fall hitting her head on the large salt lick.

Mawu couldn’t open her eyes anymore and allowed unconsciousness to take her.

A few minutes prior to the accident...

With Loki

Growing tired of playing with the rabbit, Loki sighed and looked around the area at the many nobles. He was insanely bored and he honestly wondered where that little moon goddess went. Now that he thought about it, he never realized how beautiful she looked tonight. For someone who is undeniably insufferable, she was a beautiful woman. Loki twisted his fist under his lips and felt his cheeks flush.

Yes, he thought about her, and what of it? She was beautiful, headstrong, and she spoke of war games like a veteran. She was perfect. If anyone offered her hand in marriage she would make a great queen. He didn’t know what it was that kept making him follow wherever she went, but, he didn’t want to stop.

It was fun messing with her, and mess with her, he shall. He wasn’t named the God of Mischief for shits and giggles.

He saw she had went to the stables and decided to check there. Not wanting to leave the rabbit, he used his powers to make Irawo disappear and made his way to the stables.

As he grew closer to the stables, the sound of shouting and a horse grew louder. Something inside of Loki made him begin to feel a sense of worry in the pit of his stomach. Walking closer, a yelp of pain was heard and by the time Loki turned the corner to enter the stables his eyes widened at the scene unfolding before him.

A black unicorn was stomping his hooves in the hay based ground being held by the reins by three men and Thor and a younger man was helping up a smaller body up from the ground. Loki’s eyes looked where the body once was and his green irises noticed the blood on the salt lick and then his eyes traveled to the one person he has been looking for this evening. Mawu was cradled in his brother’s arms bleeding profusely from the head and Loki phased over to his brother’s side.

“What. Happened.” Loki gritted out as he glared at his brother.

“A stablemate came over while I was in the fighting ring and told me that Lady Mawu was in trouble. I wrangled a couple more stablemates and I saw that Lady Mawu was trying to tame the beast but, it reared back and made her hit her head on the salt lick.” Thor explains and Loki takes the goddess in his arms and gently turns her head to see the extent of damage. He then stands up, while carefully holding the goddess in his arms. Her head landed on his chest, her lips were close enough to his neck and he held in a gasp from the sensation.

“I will take her to the medical clinic,” his eyes turns to the slightly calm unicorn that huffs in Loki’s direction.

“Get rid of that beast. I don’t want to see it in any stables of Asgard.” Loki says and a green light allows the God to disappear from view.

Arriving at the medical clinic, Loki kicked the double doors and called for a physician. Not a second later, a woman in grey robes came rushing towards him and she saw the injured goddess in his arms.

“Place her here, your majesty.” She instructs, pointing to a cot and Loki carefully set Mawu down moving back to allow the physician to do her job.

Loki didn’t know what to do. How did this happen? Why did he allow this to happen? Loki moved the cloud of hair she possessed and held her cheek.

“Thankfully, her wound is not severe,” the physician says making Loki look up at her.

“I will have to monitor her for the rest of the night.” She continues and Loki nods.

“Keep me updated on her well-being.”

“Yes, your majesty.” She bows and Loki uses his powers to disappear.

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The God of Mischief slams the doors of his room open and stomps over to his bed, plopping down in anger. Why was he so angry? He didn’t even know. Or perhaps he did.

He was frustrated about seeing her that way, but, then again why did he care so much anyway? Running his hands through his inky locs, Loki sighed in irritation then used his powers to allow Irawo to reappear. The rabbit snuggles into the side of his thigh as soon as he was released then squeaks.

“Your mother is in the clinic,” he tells the rabbit and the creature tilts it head. “She was hurt. How she handled the situation was so reckless of her!” He ranted to the rabbit as the furry begins to groom his head.

“She should have realized that that beast was unruly and she goes and gets hurt anyway!” He continues as he stands up and begins pacing, ranting still.

“She’s such a insufferable, uncouth, bratty, disobliging...beautiful, caring, degnified woman.” Loki’s rant slowly turns and he returns to sitting on his bed sighing with his hands folded in his lap. Irawo squeaks and Loki casts a spell and hands the rabbit three carrots. It happily eats the treats and Loki grins wryly.

“At least you are a better listener than Thor, then again I wouldn’t go to him with my problems, he’s just as insufferable as the Goddess.” Irawo squeaks once more as if agreeing with the trickster.

“You’re right, he is much more unbearable. My mistake.” He scratches under the rabbits chin and then thinks about the well-being of the moon goddess. Hoping, praying she would be alright.

Something like this was unfamiliar for the God of Mischief but, perhaps it was finally melting his frozen heart.

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Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 2⬅️

Here’s Chapter 3 enjoy it! Like, comment, reblog and be sure to ask me anything in the inbox.

See you guys!

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

Chapters 3-5 of The Passed Out Princess

Pairing: My CMC (Uyu, Dan Byeol) x Suit Saeran See all chapters

Description: On days 7-9 of Ray’s route, the player is denied food as “Saeran” makes his presence first known. But, what if MC fell very ill under this method of torture due to a medical condition? Sadly, my custom MC, Uyu (full name Dan Byeol), would deal with exactly this dilemma.

Warnings and notes found in chapter 1-2

Without taking a second to assess the situation, he began his tantrum, entering the room without even a knock out of courtesy.

“Finally getting what you wanted and you’re laying down on the bed as if nothing matters! You should be grateful I even thought to check up on you!”

The door shut behind him with a slam.

“Well then? Up. Get up, toy. I didn’t come all the way out here to watch you sleep!”

Saeran made his way over to the bed, almost in a stomping manner.

Uyu let out a small groan, attempting to pick herself up to look him in the eyes, disobeying one of his direct orders on purpose even now. With some shifts, she made her way to sitting up at the edge of the bed close to him with a slouch in her posture. Moving about to face him signaled her forehead to throb again, causing her to instinctively lift her hand to touch it beneath her bangs, a wince escaping her mouth.

“Is that all you’ve got to show me how much I’m making you suffer? Tch. Pathetic! You suck. Take more lessons from Zen while you’re chatting with him so damn much. Maybe he can at least teach you to cry on command for me. Didn’t you take theater classes before or something?”

The tall man in black towered over her as he spoke, icy eyes glaring at her through marshmallow colored fringe which fell over them in his lean forward. His lips curled into a wicked grin before he broke the awkward silence again.

“Well then...what would you like to refer to this issue as? Tell me. You must have weaved quite the story in preparation for my arrival. Out with it!”

Uyu mustered up some strength to mutter out a little of what he needed to know, embarrassed having to explain herself and call for his help when he appeared to be nothing but cruel to her.

He had shouted at her. He had shoved her a little. He had pinned her against a wall and trapped her like a wolf hunting a small, doe eyed rabbit.

And now, here she was teaching him about one of her medical conditions. Needless to say, she wished it possible to pretend it all wasn’t happening.

“..I have chronic low blood sugar. If...my hunger goes unchecked…..it just drops...my blood sugar I mean... and I get sick….it’s undocumented as there’s not much else doctors can do other than tell me to eat..”

Oh the shame.

“Pfft-”

Saeran cackled, loudly, higher in pitch, his voice reaching a part of his lungs that made it almost wheezy.

“Seriously? I hate how your list of problems is so long a fool might have believed you. You’re so damn weak. Say... I wonder...should today’s playtime be me dangling food in front of your face, then? Come on. Let’s get you to stand first, hmm? Then I’ll fetch you something sucky...like raw carrots...and you’ll hop for me like a pet bunny in desperation. I’ll even be so kind as to help you to your feet. What do you say, princess? Would you like that? A gentlemanly hand extended to you from your master?”

He reached down, pulling her hand away from her forehead and clasping it in his right, intertwining her small fingers with his long and slender ones. She shivered at his touch, him being so much colder than she was, as if his hand had been resting in a freezer while apart from her.

“...No...Saeran I might throw up again-”

“Sure you will~”, he cooed, bringing his face to hers.

“Where is that vomit, by the way? Did you oh so conveniently make it to the toilet so it’s all flushed away and gone? Haha...it’s hard to play with a toy who won’t even stand…so up! I’ll help you now, giving you that sweetness you oh so crave. On the count of three! One...two…”

Uyu shook her head as she attempted to pull back away from him, but her hand was still trapped in his firm grip, growing stronger as she attempted to resist.

“Three!”

Saeran gave her a jerk forward, the pull almost sending her to hit the ground before she caught herself on his arm.

“Wow! She did it! She stands! See that wasn’t so har-”

Dan felt the blood seem to rush out of her brain and downwards in a waterfall motion as that hot and cold chill returned. Her legs teetered as she lost balance, falling before grasping at him, ending up in his arms entirely, Saeran trying to avoid being knocked over himself. She let out a “brrr” noise as she shuttered, so dizzy the room felt as if it were doing somersaults and tumbles as it tossed her limp body around.

“Toy? Toy! What the hell kind of a stunt...”

Saeran pulled her away from him to get a better look at her as her head rolled to the side feebly. He held the woman out by her shoulders in front of him as if she were a little rag doll he wanted to shake back and forth to somehow bring life back into her.

“Start speaking to me! It’s not funny! You can quit the act now…stop doing that…”

His tone grew softer as the sound of a stiffness in the back of his throat made itself known, gulping as if swallowing a ball. He spoke again through gritted teeth.

“Not funny….I’m getting angrier….pull yourself together, toy…”

And with a little jostle from him, her guts felt a sudden whirl before a solid drop as did her head, the color black with spirals seizing her sight as she could no longer sort of keep herself upright. Saeran let go of her shoulders, feeling her whole weight lean in on him, catching her before she could fall.

Dan had finally blacked out cold exactly at noon, leaving Saeran alone, drowning in a sea of his own panic.

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Saeran held her close to him for a minute out of shock, his captivating eyes wide, stunned and not wanting to witness what he was responsible for. With Uyu completely slumped into him, he maneuvered his arms around her to allow her frail unconscious body to lean backwards. He didn’t want to believe he caused her to actually pass out, supporting her with his left arm and gently caressing her soft cheek with the back of his right hand.

A part of him feared he had caused the unthinkable.

He spoke in a strained whisper.

“Princess…?”

Not to his surprise, he received no reply, not even the slightest sign that she was faking. He huffed gently as his bottom lip began to quiver...his underlying worry that she wasn’t indeed fooling him appeared now true. He pulled her close to his chest again, his heart hammering against her as he cursed under his breath, thoughts racing so fast he felt a headache of his own coming on.

“Shit….”

Saeran went down onto his knees, still cradling her as her head rested in the crook of his neck, scooching her so she was sitting on his lap. His heart hurt...it physically hurt...a crushing squeezing pain that made him want to rip it from his chest entirely. It felt as if a rose bush had wrapped its way around it, winding an elaborate cage of thorns which pierced through like a million needles; the prettiest rose wilted in his hands because he couldn’t give it basic sunlight and water. The rose which bloomed within Ray’s heart...unlike Ray, Saeran wasn’t a nurturing gardener. Screaming at a flower for not growing into what you wished it to become will do nothing. Or...was it that the flower had already blossomed as he tried to force it closed, back into becoming a bud? Either way, he could now feel the dryness of its shriveled petals as his first tear spilled down his hot cheek.

“You don’t seem so tough now…..aren’t you supposed to be able to handle what I throw at you?”

He pressed his face into her hair, the smell of her floral conditioner he once insulted overwhelming his senses.

With heavy shame and panic, the built up water in his tear ducts came trickling down in little glistening, frequent streams upon his pale face. He shook like a leaf in the wind.

“...I did it. I defeated you. Damn you. This was supposed to be better….feel better. I was promised this was what I wanted...but you made it too easy. I hate a lack of challenge...”

He lifted his head before scooping her up bridal style, carrying her to the princess bed to lay her down somewhere comfortable. Upon her back with her hair partially sprawled out behind her, her position resembled that of sleeping beauty, the one who cursed her to sleep as well as the one who could save her life sharing the same body. Saeran’s kiss could not wake her as the one who made her prick her finger on that spinning wheel, and her prince charming was gone, banished away as he could not stand the cruelties of the dark castle’s dungeons. Or at least, that’s how he felt; that he was acting as the Maleficent of this long tale.

He stared at her for a while, breathing rapidly as his chest puffed up and down, bewildered, seething and puzzled as to why this all hurt him so. His savior promised knocking Dan down was the way to go...after all, she corrupted Ray, disobeyed the savior and caused Ray to do the same, made Ray have to be cleansed...she was no good for him; a liar and a manipulator. That’s what his savior told him, and she was never wrong, was she?

He tried to take her state in again as he watched her, drinking up her lifelessness, pushing himself to feel positive about it. It was a good thing. This was a good thing. The savior might even congratulate him for this. He might even receive praise for doing the opposite as Ray had done, feeding her well put together meals despite not even having the time to sleep. Or, would the savior scold him for besting her too early? After all, she was still essential to bringing down the RFA, as useless as he made her seem to be.

“Yes, that’s it,” he thought. He HAS to make sure she’s ok so she can carry out her job. But why did it seem like so much more than that as he felt a soreness seeing her hurt? He put his hands in his hair, tugging at the white messy tufts by the roots as he audibly panted, feeling himself being sent into a frenzy of angry and confused alarm. He gasped and shook as his eyes glazed over and color drained from his complexion, internally feeling a tug a war between his yearnings and what he had been told. A few broken “ahs” and whimpers left his open mouth as Saeran stumbled backwards, bumping his heel on the bedside table with a thunk. His tears would not cease.

It felt as if no matter how he rationalized what had just happened, matching it to his savior’s wishes and words she whispered into his ears, he couldn’t find it within himself to feel successful or triumphant in any manner. He whipped himself around to avoid looking at the passed out princess, his gaze meeting a vase with fresh flowers left by Ray which she slept beside every night. This room was so full of her...so full of him...so full of them and their time spent together. With a loud crash, he knocked it over, the smashed bits aligning the floor as the water lay in a puddle, the flowers undamaged, surrounded by the mess.

He chewed skin off his lip, leaving it pinker and salty in taste. To avoid his savior’s disapproval, for acting so weak and for making Dan so ill, Saeran decided it was best to handle the entirety of the situation on his own. He licked away the bead of red hot blood, brimming from where he bit off skin before collecting himself to a degree to clean up what he had done.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for a while, analyzing his features and making certain his emotions were concealed. He needed to hide his trembles and sobs if he were to re-enter the halls, wearing the iron mask of the strongest believer.

—��———————————————————————————————-

Locking the door to keep Dan alone and safe, Saeran made his way around until he reached the place’s kitchen, keeping his head low to avoid the need to strike conversations or bark orders. The believers knew by now that his brisk walking and low hanging head meant no one was to disturb him, as he was probably doing something of importance for the savior. Same went for Ray, even. This made his trip rather quick and easy, even with the glances and stares he received in the halls. He paid no attention to the whispers which followed them.

“I’m hungry. Whip up something and make it fast. Doesn’t matter what as long as it’s got all the food groups and doesn’t taste like utter garbage.”

After Saeran commanded the Mint Eye chefs to get to work on a dish specially “for himself”, he pulled out his android phone to do a quick Google search on what might help with Uyu’s condition. From that he was able to piece together that candy and sugar can help provide immediate relief, for just a moment, as it would spike her blood sugars.

“Do we still have any candies around here? I want a few of those.”

“Yes Mr. Saeran sir...there are some mint candies and chocolates in the cabinet by your head…to the right. We got them recent-”

“No need to point it out and ramble. I know my way around the kitchen. Next time, just a simple yes unless I ask you to say more.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mint Eye was rather used to not seeing Saeran or Ray at meal times unless the savior requested him to attend and sit by her side, so to them, him taking his dinner to go was more normal.

He opened the white cupboard door, seeing numerous clear jars they’d set out on display during meal times. He shoved his hand into the chocolates first, taking it out empty then deciding to go for the mints, remembering “the little thing can’t have dairy.” Grabbing a solid handful of the sweet safe for her to eat, he shoved it all into the pockets of his dark suit, then leaning against the wall, eyeing the chefs at work.

As Saeran himself requested a meal, it was going to be elaborate and made by a whole team in an effort to please him, worry that a mistake could send them to be cleansed acting as a great motivator. Two people off to the right made small garlic potatoes while another two prepared a red wine sauce, to go with the steak a different believer was making. This did not include the last pair, which made stir fried vegetables, one cooking and one cutting.

The kitchen was quiet apart from the sounds of the sizzling, chopping, and stirring; Saeran swallowing saliva as his adam’s apple rolled up and then down, feeling the weight of the fear the room felt towards him. Many times, he saw that kitchens were depicted as being so loud and fun, full of life and chatter unlike this one. Saeran commanded authority and respect, yes, but none of these people would even dare say more than a yes sir no sir to him, let alone smile and act friendly. Would they even smile and talk if he wasn’t there? Or, was joy something this place had always lacked, him just now noticing because of the horribly confusing pit in his stomach at the moment? For the most part, he was on his own, the kindness he received from the savior being all he had to look forward to. And it was always enough for him, as the anxiety he provoked just being in the same room as the believers usually filled him with glee. But then...Ray found someone else who’d show him sweetness. A different kind of sweetness. One that would make his face hot to the touch and heart glow, as if he were under the bright blue sky getting a sunburn, sugary treats melting and dancing on his tongue with new flavors he just wasn’t used to. It was nerve racking and yet so energizing at the same time, something to look forward to as he snuck around to see Dan for so long. Saeran at least could say he found her words to be rather interesting, keeping him on his toes the brief time that they properly spoke together. And by brief...he meant three times. That dork passed out after they had only talked to each other three times.

He was used to the feeling of people trying to tear up his body and soul with their nails from the inside out...but not in the way she did. She at least spoke such honeyed words and phrases, sugar coated in such an unlike recipe as did the glaze which covered his savior’s. Even when telling him something harsh, Dan clarified that his best interest was always in her mind. Ray wished for more of this as he asked her to wreck his head outright. A foolish thing really. Or so Saeran was told.

“Umm...Mr. Saeran...your dish is ready.”

He picked up his stare from the floor to the believer now speaking to him as his train of thoughts were broken off. No matter how much of a display he tried to put on, his mind was somewhere else, somewhere it shouldn’t be. Thinking about someone it shouldn’t be.

“Yes, good. I’ll take the plate to my room as I’m very busy with my important work. Bring me some silverware and a napkin. And a water bottle. And cover the food so it stays warm.”

“Yes sir. For eternal paradise.”

“For eternal paradise..”

The kitchen staff said nothing to his face about the redness which surrounded his mint eyes and the tip of his nose, but behind his back was a different story.

Next chapters All chapters

[pheonixfire4015]

Elliot and Oliva- Something I felt I just needed to say....

No one may see or read this but I thought I would write it for myself, to get it out of my head, and in case someone out there is like me and reading this makes them feel less alone in their struggle. Over the years I watched SVU and related to it deeply due to the trauma I had experienced in life. After Chris left the show and I saw continuous trauma being done to Liv I just couldn’t continue watching. When I saw that Chris was returning, I came back. There was one scene that was really triggering for me- it was difficult. In order to explain why it was I need to give some background.

When I was young, I was placed into a foster home. Due to the trauma from my upbringing, I had never had an emotional connection to my own parents.  When I moved into the first foster home it was like a dream come true. I never imagined I would ever be lucky enough to get a second chance at being a part of a family. Every night I thanked God, because I knew how many kids are in foster care. They offered to adopt me and I so desperately wanted to be a part of them. I opened my heart up to the mom in a way I had never opened up to anyone before. So that mom bond I never had with by biological mom I developed with the foster mom. However, they didn’t realize that when a child has trauma there is a lot of things you have to work through. Sadly, the system does not prepare family’s enough for what it will be like. With most foster care kids you may run into kids with severe issues… some struggle to connect to others, some lash out in severe anger or bad behaviors, struggle developmentally, etc. The only issue I had was I was developmentally behind, I didn’t know how to communicate, and I had a lot of memories and experiences I had to work through. I was like an 80 year old in a kids body. I was a good kid. I didn’t have any friends and never once got into trouble. For years I got to experience family meals, movie nights, having someone tuck me in at night with hugs and kisses, I had someone to talk to, I was safe, I would be held and loved, they wanted to adopt me-  I was worth fighting for, ect. I began counseling. I worked hard because I wanted to show the family I would and could get better, that I would be healed. It was hard as hell but I did it. However, as time went on I noticed that the mom was pulling away and lashing out at me. As a kid I didn’t understand it at the time. So I tried harder. But no matter how hard I tried she just kept pulling away. She explained to the counselor that all I came with was too much and listening to past trauma made her feel helpless as she couldn’t fix that. She explained her kids were jealous and that her husband no longer wanted me there- as I was taking time away from him and their biological kids. Eventually they decided they didn’t want me apart of their family and no longer wanted me to live with them. I was then placed into a new family, a family I didn’t want to go to.

I cannot express in words how deeply that experience affected me- how badly it messed with my head. Going into adulthood I was so willfully unprepared for life. I was lost and alone.  In my upbringing there was physical and sexual abuse, I was surrounded by substance abuse, and my mom left when I was 11. I can honestly say that the harm and pain caused by that foster family choosing to leave far outweighed the pain my own parents caused me. I wanted to die. To finally feel like you belong, to be loved, and held, and safe and then have it pulled away. Its like dangling a carrot in front of a starving animal. The hole and void it left has never left me. It hurt so bad I felt I was physically dying. I am 38 now and I have gone through a lot of counseling. I have a different perspective now but to this day the hole, the wound they left remains. Due to health issues I don’t have kids and am not married. As protection for the most part I stick to myself. There are still triggers- places, smells, and sounds that bring things up so I do my best. I still live in the same town and have run into her in stores. It was like mourning the death of someone who is still alive. They went back to their normal lives leaving me with less than I had, and taking with them the part of my heart I gave them. It’s something I have learned I will have to live with for the rest of my life. And I will forever have to live with all the implications of what it means to have a family decide they now longer want you.

When Elliot was written off the show, seeing Liv go through that experience was so triggering for me. It was TV but real, so deeply real for me. I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t watch anymore. There was a scene in the reunion with Fin and Elliot. Fin states, “It took Liv a minute but she eventually moved on.”  People have no concept when you’re dealing with major trauma in your background and you let someone in and trust them, losing the one stolid support is earth shattering. Liv had never known family until Elliot came into her life.  So, the minute Fin said that line I said out loud, “Bullshit, she moved on.” I paused the episode and went for a walk.  The pain of Elliot leaving left a void in her she had just learned to live with. That didn’t mean that every day she didn’t hope he would choose to come back, that she didn’t ache for closure. When Liv said “Elliot, you were the most, single most important person in my life and you just disappeared.” I felt it all the way to my bones, I got it with every fiber of my being. Every day I hoped they would come back, realize they made a mistake, that they loved me, that I was worth fighting. Every day I hoped the mom would wake up and realize the mistake she made and reach out. Even to this day its there, so you just learn to cope with those feelings, always there under the surface. I dream about them, think about them, etc. It will never leave me.

Watching a fictional character get the chance to do and say what she needed for closure- knowing I probably never would, was hard. I understand this is a show and they have to keep viewers watching every week but I just hope they do this right. As they have no idea the people watching who have actually endured these traumas in real life. I long to see Oliva get the chance at some peace in her life, to experience family. I wrote a fic recently “Peace in the midst of the storm” because I just needed to write the full conversation I hope or wish Elliot and Olivia would have. I hope Elliot and Olivia end up together, I really do. I’d love to see both of them go into counseling, and finally work through shit instead of continuing to bury it as it festers. I’d love the end scene of SVU to be Liv sit in the backyard of her own small home with Elliot next to her, watching her son play. There’s enough evil and trauma and pain enough in this world. I just hope Dick Wolf does having Chris back justice! This show has been important for a lot of people who have endured hell in their lifetimes, but weirdly its healing to see some good coming to those who have struggled- namely Olivia- even if she isn’t real. If you are watching SVU and you are in the same boat as me. I pray all the blessings and peace for the remainder of your days! Heres to hoping we get a beautiful SVU and E/O outcome :). Thanks for hearing me out.

[elvenladysakura]

~Chaar Kadam~

04

Pawn

He is like sea. Ever changing, thousand storms hidden beneath sleek waves. Vast, deep, deadly yet calm and soothing - when he wants to be. Kuwar Veer Pratap Singh is a sea, that Amrit suddenly finds herself stranded in the middle. His deceptive calmness hides a trench beneath, depth of which none has ever tested. She doesn't want to tread these waters, but the choice is between diving and drowning. Isn't that the choice of every life?

Amrit paces the length of her room. Door locked and lights dimmed. The foolishness of her actions makes her inwardly cringe, who was she fooling with this pretence of sleep when with each step her deceptively elegant chains chime.

"Chun Chun Chun" He had said. "As long as I keep hearing their ring, my worries will cease."

Chun Chun Chun

The anklets chime now, mocking her as if they were an extension of the wicked man who had them made. Those anklets could not be undone, she recalled realizing that with a sneering Veer over looking her. She'd rather cut them off her feet -

The sharp knock scatters her thought. Amrit stops just as the door rattles.

"I know you are not sleeping," Veer's voice filters through the door. He doesn't sound very pleased. Good, Amrit thinks savagely. Let him stay awake all night, listening to his favorite Chun Chun!

"Amrit!"

She has the urge to stomp her feet and irritate him further, but Amrit knows how to choose her battles. Veer has that unassuming wickedness of a naughty child, who'd do the most unexpected thing to get his way. Instead she goes and unlocks the door.

"What?" Tonight, she doesn't have the patience to entertain his tantrums. Amrit had pleaded a headache to get out of the dinner debacle, in fear that it would turn somewhat similar to the breakfast drama just that morning. She was annoyed, hungry and on the top of it bound in elaborate gold chains of the kuwar's choosing. At least she had to have the privilege to snap at someone.

Veer raised his brows, looking down at her from his impressive height.

"Dinner kar lo, humare saath," he says. "It's all been set up in the room, we are not expected down at the table with everyone."

She makes a move to walk past him which he prevents with a hand on the door frame. His eyes are burning when they return her gaze.

"Keep me waiting, next time I'll break open the door." He bites out menacing words against her ear as if they were a soft caress. Looking over his shoulder Amrit notices the servants bowing out of the room, the dinner arranged in a corner. Veer steps away as soon as they shut the door and mentally shaking her head at his antics, Amrit goes to the table set up for the two of them.

"Bina khaye sone wale logon ko, ab badi jaldi hai khane mein," Veer taunts from behind. "Stop!" He says sharply. Unwillingly, Amrit turns to look at him, wondering what new play he has thought up now? Was he going to taunt her with food next? Dangle a paratha in front of her like a carrot in front of a donkey? Veer shakes a finger at her in silent no no. With long strides he joins her at the table and pulls out the chair for her.

"Ladies wait for their accompanying gentleman to pull out their chair," he says offering her the seat with an elaborate gesture.

"Why? Woh kudh nahi kar sakthe?" She asks sarcastically.

Veer pinches the bridge of his nose before pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"Yahi yahi problem hai tum ladkiyon ki! When someone is doing a good deed, can't you just keep back and let him do it? No, you want to show your nari shakti instead!"

Amrit plops down on the chair and looks up at him expectantly.

"What is all this Kuwar sahab?"

Veer takes his own seat and looks at her pointedly.

"Training," he elaborates. "Aaj se, we will have dinner here in the room. Just you and me. I will teach you Rani ma's table etiquette to it's last t.

"Etiquette doesn't end with a t." Amrit points out. "Kiyun? Are you embarrassed on my behalf? I did tell you Kuwar sahab, I'm not the right girl for you. Shukar hai aap ko samajh aaya, dher hi sahi!"

"Pooch nahi raha hoon madam, batha raha hoon," Veer tells her as he places a plate before her and starts piling it up with food. "I don't need your opinion on it. I'm telling you how it's going to happen. You will practice during dinner - I'll see your improvement during breakfast with everyone. It may be a pretence, but you are my wife out there. My other half so to speak. I'd rather at least one half is spared of Rani ma's criticism." He shakes his head at some dark thought and serves himself. "Between you and me, I'm the disappointment - you, you are supposed to be perfect, behetareen, unparalleled - such that, Rani ma could never find one who is your better. You are my victorious move against her, my trump card."

His eyes gleam with a madness that fills her insides with a chill. Amrit realizes that she is unwillingly made a pawn in this battle between mother and son. She had no choice but to keep moving forward and the man behind her - dictating her moves - she wasn't certain if he was sane.

"Hmm," Veer says self satisfied. "Shuroo kiya jaayein."

He was a relentless teacher. Amrit wonders how Rani Sahiba thinks less of this son of hers when he was as tenacious as she was.

"So, as we eat - we'll talk about Pakistani prisoners."

Amrit's fork slips. Veer corrects her grip on it again and raps on her knuckles with the back of his spoon.

"Dyaan kahaan hai tumhara?" He admonishes and cuts her savoury roll into small pieces himself. "You can't keep watching your cutlery as if you are performing a surgery on your food. There will be conversation around which you have to participate in -"

He plucked one piece on his fork and brought it to her mouth. "Learn to multitask."

Amrit swallows the bite just to shut him up.

"What about Pakistani prisoners?" She asks.

"There's a list of those who were recommended to be released under Rani ma's campaign scheme. Want to check and see if your aashiq is among them?"

He pulls out a file from nowhere and flips it open. The smile he gives at her eagerness to reach for it is condescending.

"I've heard dogs learn tricks better when they are given reward treats - aaj dekh bhi liya."

Amrit ignored the insult in favour of checking that precious document. It was the culmination of all her efforts. She won't let a petty insult ruin it. Veer watched her in silence for a moment as she reads through the file.

"What will you do when you get him out?" He muses aloud.

"Nothing. He knows how to live his life."

Veer chuckles darkly.

"You want me to believe you won't want to go to him? That you won't run away?"

"Do you play chess Kuwar sahab?"

"Why? You want to learn that next?" He retorts.

Amrit shakes her head. Returns to her food and manages - perfectly - to take a bite from her fork.

"The first rule of any battle is to trust your enemy to do the worst and your soldier to do the best. You have placed me on your side Kywar sahab, you have no choice but to believe I will do my best. If you doubt your own soldier - your opponent will benefit."

For a moment Veer says nothing, then his face breaks into a deceptively bright smile.

"Shukar hai," he says. Shukar hai aap ko samajh aaya, dher hi sahi!" He pays back in her own words, adding his signature sarcasm to it. "You are my soldier. Don't try to be my queen." He offers her another bite. "I've learned my lesson of trusting women. You are left with nothing if you depend on them. Rani ma. Anaita. Tum. All you women know is to disappoint. Ab aur nahi - now I decide the rules of this game."

"Kuwar sahab -"

She jumps at the sound of the door opening. In comes Rani Sahiba, her face a mask of indifference. Veer looks at her annoyedly.

"I'm having serious doubts about your manners Rani Ma," he greets. "Zara dimaag mein zoor daliyein, somewhere - someone might have taught you something about not entering rooms of newly married couples without knocking?"

To his credit Rani sahiba doesn't even flinch. Amrit feels her face burning. She looks away. Rani sahiba being Veer's mother has the nerve to smile.

"You didn't come for dinner. I wanted to talk. It cannot wait." She says pleasantly.

"Kahiyein," Veer mimics her pleasantness. "I'm sure you took the trouble to come all the way up to deliver some shok bhara samachaar!"

"Since you are insisting Veer that I give your wife," she throws a dark look at Amrit. "All due respect and status of a daughter in law of this royal family...I have arranged for that one ritual you missed to force upon us." She pauses for dramatic effect. "It cannot happen that a new daughter in law has joined the family and the newly married couple as you so eloquently put do not seek blessings from our kuldevi? I have arranged a kuldevi pooja for you and bahu. You should prepare to leave tomorrow."

The chill in her smile and the way Veer had suddenly gone very still tells Amrit all she needs to know about this upcoming veneration. The woman has her son's cruel streak, for her eyes flashes with victory at the ghost like pallor in Veer's face. Amrit has the urge to reach out and take his hand - a misplaced emotion that she quickly stomps on. This is the man who made her wear those anklets. She's not going to forget that.

"Kiyun, you have a problem Veer?" Rani sahiba asks sweetly.

"Nahi." Veer's voice is little too high, little too cherry. "Of cause I have no problem." He looks at his mother, his eyes reddening, his fists clenched. "So you'll be going with us too, won't you Rani Ma? Or do you have a problem?"

"Of cause. I - I will." Her voice falters and Veer's fist tightens.

"Of cause," he says. "Of cause."

He rises from the table abruptly.

"If you could finish me off in the process I'm sure you won't think twice to poison your own food. Aap kha lijiye Amrit, humari bhook mitt gayie."

Throwing those last words as if he was spitting out the said poison, Veer left Amrit staring up at the sweet yet cruel face of a supposedly benevolent woman.

**

[amydancepants-peralta]

Jake getting adventurous and sneaking a vibrator into Amys underwear and she has to sit through an interview as he toys with her

Ok so I tweaked this a little and this came out of nowhere but I really love the idea of this so ... find it under the cut! 🙊

He waits until she’s well into reciting the third paragraph of Subsection Eight before running his thumb over the button in his pocket, pressing once to keep the device at its lowest speed.  

To her credit, there is only the slightest falter in her voice, short enough to be considered a tickle in her throat by anyone other than him, and he takes great pleasure in knowing that while the tickle does exist, it is actually much further down.  

He keeps the vibration on low for the rest of her speech - subtle enough for Amy to be aware of its existence, not quite strong enough to gain anything more than heightened senses.  Alternates between the on and off button once her part is over, tampering the urge to smile as she keeps her gaze steadily focused on the boardroom in front of her, clearly refusing to break the facade that everything isn’t Completely Normal.   

Her hand lands with a quiet slap on his inner thigh fifteen minutes later as the vibrator begins moving steadily at full speed, and he’s pretty sure he’s got this win in the bag.  

It had all started out as an idle bet (admittedly, like a lot of their shenanagoogles do) - an attempt to make what had threatened to be a boring day into something far more interesting.  The dangling carrot of a glowing evaluation had led to Jake signing up for the next HR seminar - this one being held at another precinct downtown - and Amy, after such a stellar display of preparation at the nine-nine’s turn, had been invited back to show off her ‘impressively professional portfolio of knowledge on the topic’.

(He’s pretty sure that detail alone had turned Amy on before their bet had even started, but that was just an added benefit.)

The Lock-n-Play panty vibe was a relatively new addition to their repertoire - among the few items recently purchased from their preferred sex shop - but one that was quickly becoming their favourite, if only for it’s handy magnetic tabs that kept the vibe in place (because really, is there any universe where Amy Santiago isn’t a massive fan of a well-placed set of tabs?).  

She had been halfway through casually mentioning (read: straight-up bragging) her quoted professional manner as they got dressed this morning when the idea had come to Jake, the toy’s remote still sitting on his dresser from it’s weekend workout and catching his eye as he reached for his watch.  He hadn’t ever thought that she’d actually go through with it - which is on him, really, because his wife rarely steps down from a challenge - and mentioned it merely as a passing joke until he noticed the spark of interest in his wife’s eyes, and realised that there was a chance that this could actually happen.

The conversation was quick: their terms clear.  Amy would wear the vibe in her underwear, with Jake having sole possession of the remote.  He could activate it anytime he liked, as long as he adhered to the kill sign (three quick squeezes of his wrist) if actioned, and the only thing Amy had to do was not break her Professional Sergeant at a Seminar role.  If Jake won, he got to choose their movies for the next two weeks.  If victory went to Amy, he had to eat a salad for lunch every single day for a fortnight.

(There would also be the added benefit of nightly foot rubs, but given the baby that was currently growing in his wife’s uterus, nightly massages were kind of a given.)  

The stakes weren’t necessarily high, but both of them loved to win; and Jake would be straight-up lying if he didn’t admit that just the idea of his wife secretly being buzzed to climax in a boardroom full of strangers didn’t turn him on more than a little.  

From his position at the front of the room, Andrew The Presenter switches over to non-verbal communications, and for no reason other than sheer curiosity Jake switches the vibrator into it’s highest mode, biting the inside of his cheek as Amy’s shoulders jump in surprise.

It only takes a minute before she shifts forward in her chair, resting on her elbows before wriggling slightly in her seat; and to anybody that cared to pay attention to her and Jake’s position at the back of the room it would have looked like nothing more than a restless woman waking up her limbs.  But Jake knew better - knew that the tip of the vibe raised slightly, ergonomically designed to cup a woman’s clit in all the right ways - and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Amy was maximising the opportunity for pleasure while it lasted.  

He gives her another twenty seconds, waiting until the wriggling seems to have stopped before pressing the off button once again, not even pretending to ignore the exasperated look she throws him from over her shoulder.  He gives her a wink, to which she responds with a roll of her eyes, and he is always going to be in love with what they have together.  

She pulls him aside during the coffee break, leading him down an unfamiliar hallway into a stationery supply cupboard (her knowledge of its presence, he assumes instinctual); pulling him in for a hungry kiss as soon as she hears the lock click into place.  Their makeout session is hurried and passionate - the kind of teeth-gnashing, body-pawing kisses you give each other when you know there’s not enough time for what you really crave - and as they move to return back to the group he offers her the chance to call off the bet, no questions asked.  (The foot rubs after all, were already a given, and he’s pretty sure that stack of green stuff they put on top of nachos counted as a salad.)  But she stops in her tracks, eyes blazing as she presses a hand to his chest and gives her answer in no uncertain terms: 

Don’t you dare stop.

It’s the clear arousal in her voice that keeps Jake from activating the vibrator again for another forty minutes, waiting until a slideshow on Something Boring begins playing before sliding his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie, sliding his thumb casually over the power button and slowly working the vibe back up to it’s previous level.  

Her hand lands back on his upper thigh after another few minutes, the grip tightening slightly when he presses the button again, and he takes his hand out his hoodie, grabbing her wrist and moving it towards his own - a silent reminder that he’ll stop in an instant, if she only asked.  But she wriggles her hand out of his grasp, returning to the previous position, leaning back in her chair in what completely fails to be a casual pose.  Her fingers creep towards his inner thigh, a movement that undoubtedly brings his growing hard-on to her attention, and she leans forwards again to let out a shaky breath.   

The high level buzzing is quietly audible through her uniform now, perhaps more noticeable because his imagination wants it to be, and her ribs begin to expand and contract at a steady pace.  

Jake knows that if he keeps this up, Amy is absolutely going to climax - perhaps too far into the sensations the vibrations were giving to realise that she would be doing so in the middle of a seminar - but he also knows that his beautiful wife is not quiet when she comes.  It’s one of the many (many) things he loves about her; the clear display of unbridled passion that courses through her, the way her voice tends to shake a little as she calls out his name - or yes, or fuck, or a combination of the above.  

But she hasn’t given the signal, and there is a good portion of his blood that is most definitely not pumping through his brain anymore, and so he obeys the silent instruction, and keeps his finger on the increase button.

She excuses herself a few minutes later, standing quickly and offering an apologetic smile, pointing to her growing baby bump as the reason for nature calling.  Her boots tap quickly across the tiled floor as she exits, head ducked down low to convey the urgency of her steps (a movement that he is certain is not an act).  

He waits another couple of minutes before switching off the vibe, hoping the remote holds enough range; and his phone buzzes shortly after, the notification on his locked screen telling him that Babe ♥️ has just sent him an image.  And while he’s absolutely bursting at the seams to unlock and look, he also knows that it will most certainly lead to a wet patch on the front of his jeans, and there really is no coming back from that.

And so he trains his attention back to the Manual of Boredom in front of him, reading through various scenarios involving Employee A and Colleague D, all the while trying desperately to get his mind to focus on arithmetic … asparagus … Scully’s foot fungus … all the genuinely unsexy things in life.  His phone vibrates again, another text from his wife causing his mind to nearly implode, and time has somehow completely come to a standstill.  

Amy leans in to kiss his cheek when she returns, using the closeness of her position to whisper in his ear just how hard she’d just come, and Jake absolutely needs this seminar to end now - right now, please oh god, end now.  

It takes another hour before they have a lunch break - a solid hour of Jake running through a breakdown of all Transformers - Autobots, Dinobots and Decepticons inclusive - and when Amy finally stands, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the parking lot he follows willingly, by now completely unable to contain a gigantic smile from taking over his face.

She drives their car up to the very top of the garage, parking in an empty spot right at the edge of the otherwise abandoned section before sliding over the gears and settling onto his lap.  Her nimble fingers find the lever to the side, dropping the seat’s backing towards the rear, his zipper descending just as quickly.  

It doesn’t last long - both of them way too close to the edge for it to be anything but quick - but by the time they need to head back to the seminar it’s fairly safe to say that Jake no longer has a hangup about having sex in a car in a garage.  

She packs a salad for his lunch the following morning, pulling him in for a longer-than-normal kiss as he lets out a defeated sigh, and while Jake knows that while he technically lost the bet, they both got to have some pretty great orgasms yesterday and really, how could that ever be considered a loss?

(and when he receives an email a year later, reminding him of an upcoming refresher course on HR, he absolutely sets up a plan to raise the stakes for Sexy Seminar, version 2.0.)

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 4

The boys try to relax after meeting Dark, but Dapper is ticked off at Anti and there is still tension between Trickshot and Dok.

Tws for alcohol, images of dead bodies, and mentions of torture.

Part 4 - Dark's Memory

“Oh, but Dok, I’m tiredddddd.”

He draws it out like a kid who doesn’t want to do his chores, slipping down into the water until it reaches up to his chin, pouting against the waves of the pool. Dok grins at him and reaches out to snag his hand, leading him around in circles against the wall.

“Come on, my friend. Can’t be sitting around all day even if you’re tired.”

“Help me float?” asks Blue, getting up again and turning his back to Dok.

“Okay, if you want.”

He puts his hand against Blue’s back. Blue lies down against the water and lets Dok steady him, til he’s just resting on the surface of the water, drifting.

“No sleeping though,” says Dok, and Blue laughs. They both wear their shirts in the water. Dok itches at his chest. Through the kitchen window, you can see Trick cooking, and Red sits a few feet away from them, watching the forest and tap-tap-tapping his foot. Dok told him he should do something other than stand guard all day, but he hasn’t thought of anything yet.

pine-storm-season asked: Hello! How are you all doing?

Red looks up and smiles at you. “Aw, been better, but you know. It’s okay.”

He glances over at Dok and Blue. “Getting really worried about Blue after how he was acting last night, but sun comes up and he wakes up and seems okay again. A little nausea this morning. I asked him if he was pregnant. He said that would be more fun than this.”

Red grins and kicks his feet. “He’s grumpy about it, but I just hope he keeps trying to stay up. I don’t blame him for being unhappy. I think, um. He really needs more help than he’s getting. But I don’t know how to get him it. Which is frustrating. I’m not really in charge right now, but I’m still big brother. I’m supposed to be looking after them. And I can’t.”

He shrugs. “But I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep the monster away if I can.”

He still has that kitchen knife, sitting on the grass beside him. He itches at the bandaid on his broken nose.

“How are you?”

Anonymous asked: Whatcha cooking, trick? Breakfast?

“Lunch, technically!”

He stirs enthusiastically at a pan full of ground beef, tomatoes, carrots, onions, and peas. “Making kima. Trying to use the perishables first. So we don’t have to get hungry just cause all the food goes bad. The fridge is really full! Hey, do you know what prosciutto is? There’s a ton in there, but I don’t wanna give Dok ham.”

Anonymous asked: (Chill scenes are totally cool! And I love reading anything you write so it's awesome) But hey! Pool time sounds like it could be fun and/or relaxing. And it could be good for Blue's (or any of yalls) health. -Pink

“Just don’t tell Dap we’re outside,” sighs Blue, standing up and running his hands through his hair. After a few weeks since he shaved it down to white, it’s beginning to grow out again, just a little, and he savors the growing strands. “He won’t stop talking about that thing in our yard. He says he won’t come into the house’s territory, but he wanted us to spend all day hiding. But we figured it already knows we’re here.”

He shrugs and looks back at Dok just in time to get splashed in the face by a sweep of Dok’s arm through the water. He gasps and slaps the water in front of him, sending it spraying up into Dok’s face. He laughs and retreats, cutting water with his hands as he backs away.

“Ass,” gripes Blue, smiling as he follows after him.

Anonymous asked: where is dap, if you don't mind me asking? is he upstairs?

“No, he’s hiding from Anti,” says Dok. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Anti’s so pissed at him he only looked for him once,” adds Blue. “He found him in the top cupboard of the pantry behind the juice-boxes and tried to drag him back upstairs, but Dapper wouldn’t stop throwing a fit, and Anti got so irritated he left before - to quote Anti - he pulled him apart tooth by tooth. You might be able to find him on the cameras if you try since Anti’s stopped coming for him. I hope that he’ll come when Trick has lunch. He eats like a shrew. A dieting shrew.”

“I need to have him out here exercising too,” sighs Dok. “He never get out of his little room most of the time.”

Anonymous asked: It's basically fancy italian ham, so says Google. Maybe Noodle and the rest of you would like it but yeah not the best choice for dok

“Noodle! Come here, baby!”

Trick kisses for his cat til he comes and gets him a slice of prosciutto. Noodle is delighted.

“You’re getting so big,” says Trick, petting his back. He’s a very long cat and getting longer, leggy and thin, still golden as the day he was born.

Anonymous asked: Red maybe you should take up drawing or coloring, just something to do with your hands. I know you have a lot worrying you but maybe it will help you de-stress and focus? I find it helps me anyway. A hobby might be good for you right now

Red nods, considering it. Yeah. He stands up. Sits down again. Stands up. Sits down.

He puts his chin in his hand and sighs, kicking at the grass.

“I haven’t… I don’t really have hobbies, ha. Usually I’m the one with the money for the month, you know, so I have to be thinking about food and entertainment and shit in one handful of cash. And when I do get entertainment stuff, it’s for Dap cause he’s alone in his room, or sometimes for the twins if Dok’s having to cut people up or Trick’s depressed and they need something to take their minds off it. Cause that’s what it is, yeah? Entertainment, it’s a need. In those cases at least. And if it’s not a need I don’t get it. That’s the rule. That’s how you stop your brothers from starving.”

He stands up again, staring out at the forest. “But now I guess I can go draw if I want, and it won’t be wrong. Cause it would have been wrong, yeah? To buy paper and pencils for myself. Dapper would need them more or we would need shit to eat more. And now we’re in this nice place after Dap and I about starved in Colombia and I’m just supposed to act like this is our normal and to do whatever I want. I don’t know how to do whatever I want. And I don’t want… I don’t want Anti to pretend this is our normal. Cause it isn’t. I been hungry too many times to let him try to tell me that.”

He pauses, shrugging. “Sorry, I went off. I do want to go find something to do. I wish I had something to color, that sounds fun. I could go look for books or something with black and white pictures. And art shit. I don’t know if there’s any here.”

Anonymous asked: hey, dap? how are you doing?

For a second, there is no sign of him - or not of him moving, anyway. He seems to have shucked off everything he didn’t want to wear as he ran, his tight black dress shoes discarded in the hallway, his clean white dress shirt dangling off the coat hook. There are cuff-links waiting to be stepped on. He may or may not be wearing pants.

But in the office with the grand brown desk and the high, glass-covered shelf full of alcohol in progressively fancy bottles, a slight motion alerts you to an irritated, red-rimmed eye peering slowly out from the side of the desk to check on the beeping noise from the camera - and then, just as quickly, ducking out of sight again.

Anonymous asked: hello, dap! is something wrong?

Liquid sloshes. Dapper glances back at you again, his mouth miserably down-turned and his eyes angry. He hides away again for a few minutes. He’s sick of Anti looking at him all the time.

“I hate Dark,” he spits finally, adjusting a little so you can see him. He’s got a blanket on and all his stuffed animals arranged beneath it around his legs. His pencils are scattered beneath the desk, his sketchpad covered in meaningless circles of colors he can’t tell the difference between. He throws back a bottle of Jameson and drinks deep and hateful. “I hate Anti for bringing us here. I want him to go away!” He coughs as the whiskey burns.

Anonymous asked: Ah... why are your clothes on the floor Dap?

“I don’t want to wear all this stupid shit he puts me in,” he signs. “I don’t want to be cute and perfect, I’m not his perfect little pet thing, not his dog to dress up in a tutu, not cute all the time, sometimes I want to be a man, or I at least want him to know I’m a man, not treat me like a little boy. I only want to dress up when I want to dress up and I don’t want any more stupid little kid hoodies or dumb socks unless I pick the dumb socks. I, I, me!”

He shakes his head, distress creasing through his anger, and he drinks like he’s got something to prove, his face red with crying and alcohol.

“Stupid baby stuck in my fucking crib all day.”

He sobs and then strikes the side of the desk, gritting his teeth. “Stupid little boy never runs from his dad.”

Anonymous asked: anti's not here right now, though. do you want to go be with your brothers for the time being? anti isn't here to be able to do anything to any of you.

“He shouted at me all morning, he’s angry,” grouses Dapper, flicking his golden Christmas knife up and down in his hand. “He said he’ll tie me up upside down until the blood rushes back into my head and makes me stop acting stupid; I said if he tries to make me stay in that room again I’ll bite his ear off in his sleep; he slapped me til I cried.”

His ear is bruised purple on the right and there are nail marks around his wrists. He shivers and curls in on himself, bitter and tired, scratching at a hippo stuffie with textured fur.

“I don’t want to go where everybody’s staring at me, I don’t want to go where Dark can see me, I don’t want to…”

Anonymous asked: Huh boy. Would you mind some drinking buddies? We don't have booze but I can act like a conversational bartender that takes all your problems and sound then into advice. Can't guarantee it'll fix things but we're listening

“That was most of my rant unless you get me started again,” says Dapper wearily, slumping back against the desk so his head disappears and you just see his skinny chest and legs poking out. The thought of it is funny and you hear him giggle, flipping over on his side to hide his face in his blankets.

“I’m sad. Comfort me, Panchito.”

He draws his stuffed Peruvian bear to his mouth for a kiss. It’s hard to tell if that’s his dry sarcasm again or not. He might just be drunk.

“My heart hurts.”

Anonymous asked: How much did you drink so far? Not too much to be dangerous for you I hope

He huffs out a tired sigh and shows you the bottle. There’s more than half of it left.

“You’re going to babysit me too? Not eighteen yet? Just because I don’t age. I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t ask to watch everybody else get older around me while I still look so much younger. I didn’t ask for everybody to make me the baby. What’s wrong with being quiet and nice and cute sometimes? I still want my brother to respect me. I’m not little… I’m mute and I’m psychotic and I like being nice and wearing jumpers and sleeping with a bear. That doesn’t mean I’m not a grown-up. I am a grown-up and I’m clever and tough and I want things. I want to make choices. I’m not five. Not. And if I had got to make a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen to come back to be toyed with by somebody who hurt me.”

His face scrunches up like he might cry, but he doesn’t. He rubs at his ruddy cheeks.

“But I still never go away… so maybe I’m just all talk. Just his baby brother.”

He stares down at the gold of the alcohol.

Anonymous asked: okay, that's fair, dap. do you want us to ask one of them to come be with you here instead? it might make you feel better to have someone like blue with you instead of being alone.

“I don’t want to get scolded,” his hands confess. “I know I’m being stupid. No one else has to share my stupid with me. I know I’m being grouchy and negative and unhappy. I know. They don’t have to put up with me while I’m like this.”

He is very small beneath the largeness of the empty office.

“Even Anti doesn’t put up with me when I’m being a brat, and I’m supposed to be his. Everybody likes me better when I’m smiling and put together. He always just leaves and comes back when I’m too tired or when I’m done sulking. That’s what he thinks he can do this time, just wait for me to decide it’s not worth it. And I always do. I always let it go. Because I know he doesn’t care, so why fight about it? Things are worse when he’s mad at me. But he really hurt me yesterday. That’s worse than when he used to smack me around all the time, before I snapped and he realized how scared he used to make me.”

nikkilbook asked: Red, what if you go find Dap and ask him to draw with you? Let you keep each other company while you do something for you.

“Where he at, though?” asks Red, ducking into the house. “Dap?”

No answer from the wide halls. He trails through the house looking for him.

Anonymous asked: If you want to be mad, J, be mad! Be drunk! These are your decisions and your emotions so express them. We want you to be safe but if you trust your judgement to drink responsibly by yourself, go for it, my guy.

“Be mad, be drunk,” he repeats a little more enthusiastically. After a moment he lowers his bottle and sighs.

“I am not being responsible, though. You are right. I don’t want my brothers to think I’m trying to hurt myself again.”

He sets the bottle gently aside, at least for a few minutes.

Anonymous asked: i don't think they'll mind much, dap. anti cares more about control than love, but the others don't. everyone has unhappy days, especially people in bad situations. we don't have to ask, and they don't have to agree, but we'll ask if you think it would make you feel better, okay? we can ask them not to scold you or anything too.

“He is my heart,” says Dapper cryptically, holding his knees to his chest. “That’s the rope he makes me wear.”

He turns at the sound of someone calling for him. He puts his head against his knees, mouth pursed, but after a moment, he tells you, “They can come see me if they want. But they can go, too, if they want. I have never been there for any of them, truth be told. Not for a long time, anyway. And even then, wasn’t I always just the needy little victim…”

He’s spiraling, his eyes getting dark. He covers his face with his hands.

Anonymous asked: i think they'll be happy to see you, dap. red's looking for you, he wants to know how you're doing. do you want us tell him where you are?

“I think it would be okay. I don’t want him to be disappointed in me.”

He stares down at the floorboards.

“There was a while when Dok and Trick first broke when none of my brothers knew anything about me, just my name and that Anti loved me better than them. I couldn’t talk to them and I couldn’t see them, but I would hear them through the walls and pretend they loved me too. It was lonelier having them in the house than when it was just me and Anti. But even when I felt totally… just… unloved, even when he didn’t even know me, Red would sometimes buy presents for me and leave them outside my door. And it was like there was a little remnant of what we had that was still alive. Or like even if he didn’t even know me, he still would be my brother and look after me however he could.”

He blinks. “I’m rambling again. I am drunk. I don’t want him to have loved me better before he knew me than now, when he’s beginning to see who I am, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, you are one of the bravest, strongest, most downright terrifyingly intelligent men i have ever seen. And heck, im a grown up. I still sleep with my stuffed animals! And I color just to color and i eat candy for breakfast from time to time. I watch cartoons and i cry and I do all sorts of things. But im still an adult, and yes, you are too. You are strong, and you'll get through this. -Pink

“Yes, I’m terrifying,” agrees Dapper, nodding his head, determined to believe it. “I’ve killed, like, a lot of people.”

He pauses, touches his mouth, scrunches up his face in thought.

“I guess that is the opposite side of the spectrum. In terms of being taken seriously, I want to be somewhere between Strawberry Shortcake and unattended luggage in an American airport, thank you.”

nikkilbook asked: Room with a desk and alcohol, Red.

Red turns towards the right side of the house, shooting you a confused look at half of Dapper’s clothes scattered around the hallway. He pushes on and into the office, stopping short in the doorway.

Dapper stares back at him with wide eyes and a trembling frown, wiping at his face and clutching his bear to his stomach. The Jameson shudders on the floor nearby, drained by a couple glasses. Red blinks.

He sighs through his nose and then moves to sit down beside Dapper, squishing himself into the space beneath the desk at his side. Dapper sniffles and looks anywhere but Red’s eyes, downcast and humiliated.

“Okay,” says Red, making himself comfy. “Give me that.”

Dapper startles and turns to him. He glances between Red and the bottle, blinking.

“Yeah, come on!”

Dapper lets a sigh drift out of him, disappointed. He is just the little kid of the family. He turns the bottle over to his brother.

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Red. “No fucking drinking alone.”

He tilts the bottle back and drinks. Dapper laughs, turning towards him, clasping his hands together over his heart.

“Red,” he signs, giggling.

“Fuck, that burns!” spits Red, shaking his head and his hands. “That’s nasty!”

“Can’t handle it?” teases Dapper, scooting closer to him, delighted.

“Hey, I haven’t had a drink in a long time, okay?”

“Chug, chug, chug, chug - ”

“Don’t even start!”

Red and Dap laugh, huddled over the alcohol and the stuffies, squished together beneath the desk. Dapper clasps his hand through the blanket, leaning forward to set his head down against his shoulder.

Anonymous asked: How's the liquor Red? Bad? Well probably not since this was a rich dude's stash but the difference between expensive and cheap probably doesn't matter for someone's whose goal is to get drunk

“That is correct, for one,” coughs Red. “And also I know jack-shit about alcohol, unfortunately.”

“It’s good!” says Dapper. “It’s really good.”

“Babe, it’s nasty.”

Dapper laughs. “You can’t tell.”

“I can’t tell. All alcohol is disgusting. I mean I just - I don’t get the appeal. If it’s not like the fruity ones that actually taste nice? It’s nasty. I have never find an alcohol I want more than just, like, a nice orange soda.”

“Do you guys want lunch?” hollers Trick from the other side of the house.

Anonymous asked: Get one of ur brothers to bring the food up like a delivery boy lol

“Heyyyy,” hollers Red down the hallway. “Bring me food!”

“No,” shouts back Dok.

“What does he want?”

“Someone to bring him food.”

“No!”

“Blue, you’re supposed to be my twin!”

“I’m sick! You should be bringing food to me, if anything! Aw, look, Trick’s got me a plate already. That’s why he’s my favorite.”

“Hey!”

“All of you shut the fuck up!” shouts Anti.

Just to piss him off, Dapper stands up and sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling as loud as he can until Red leaps up and makes his stop, laughing and horrified at the same time. “You are one dumb, bold, black and white firecracker, little brother.”

“Guess that’s why we get along,” answers Dap.

Anonymous asked: damn, orange soda!! that is the best soda, you are an individual of refined taste, red. in terms of lunch, trick's making kima - Indian dish with veggies and beef, basically - it looks p good. are y'all gonna want any?

“I want kima. Come on, bud.”

“There’s the monster in the forest.”

“They’re not going to snatch you while I’m here, bud.”

“You don’t know that,” answers Dapper wearily, but he lets Red lead him towards the hall.

aether-mae asked: Y’all need to eat, and also drink some water or you’ll get hangovers. *paps both ur heads* stay safe kids

“Yes, we do,” agrees Red fondly, pulling him down the hall. “Come on, so. Hey! Whoa, man. How drunk are you?”

Dapper has crashed into his chest, blinking fast. “Dizzy,” he signs.

“You shouldn’t have had that much.”

“I didn’t!”

“Let’s just get you some food and water, okay? You’ll feel better.”

He leads him into the kitchen and then decides against sitting him down at the island, turning to leave him beside Blue on the couch. Dapper sways dizzily, rubbing at his head.

“Hey, my darling, what’s wrong?” asks Blue, reaching out for him. “Dok, come here.”

“He’s okay,” Red insists. “He just, uh. Got into the liquor!”

“Hey!” cries Dok, anger and alarm slicing through his face. “Hey, why! Why would you do that?”

“Dok, come on,” Red protests.

“No, don’t ‘come on’ me! Alcoholism runs in our family and he had a suicide attempt this month. Not to mention Haldol interacts with alcohol! You’ll be dizzy all day.”

Dapper shakes his head, staring up at Dok with big blue eyes. He didn’t know that.

“Don’t give the doctor puppy eyes! It’s stupid, Dap! You want to get to drinking everyday, huh? You want a fun hangover so someone has to look after you? You want to be drunk all the time and then I can’t get you to wake up and it’s four in the morning and I told you to stop, I told you not to have so much, I keep telling you - !”

“Dok!” Trick cuts him off.

Dok stops, closing his eyes.

Trick’s face is guilty and drawn in the kitchen. He turns heavily back to his cooking, dishing meat and veggies onto flatbread.

immabethehero asked: Ooh what are you having???

“We are having kima,” says Trick wearily. “It’s meat and vegatables with paprika and curry powder. You put it on flatbread.”

Everyone’s gone mostly quiet, Red shuffling his feet against the carpet. Blue lets his head fall against Dapper’s shoulder. “I’m taking a nap, good night.”

Dapper presses his head against Blue’s. Trick brushes his hand against Dok’s back as he passes his brother, still standing in the middle of the room, scowling down at the floor.

Anonymous asked: Liquor on an empty stomach leads to a nasty hangover. Go get yall some lunch! And drink some water too. Please and thank you!

“Yes, eat,” insists Dok with a sigh, taking a plate from Trick and giving it to Dapper. “So you’re not sick. Can’t be drinking without food. And water. I’ll get you a bottle if I can find one.”

He goes digging around for a water bottle in the kitchen while Trick passes out food. He slices up a huge white peach and gives everybody a sweet, thick slice as footsteps come down the stairs and Anti appears on the banister, staring moodily down at them. Red and black burns disappear into his shirt from his shoulders and neck, but he doesn’t flinch or whimper, just scowls.

Dapper is tense. Dok tries to ignore their brother as he brings him a water bottle clinking with ice, sitting cautiously down beside Blue and Dapper. Red hovers in front of them, folding his kima into a taco and taking a bite in a pretty good semblance of normality.

“It’s good, Trick.”

“Don’t have to sound surprised.”

“Thanks for cooking.”

“Course.”

immabethehero asked: You know what you should try? Red Lobster cheddar biscuits. They’re from America and they’re delicious!

Everyone glances at the camera. “Uh, yeah,” says Trick. “Those sound good. I’d have to have a way to look the recipe up. But I can make good biscuits. Better than KFC, seriously.”

“I think maybe Blue did actually fall asleep on me,” says Dapper uncertainly, trying not to move too much.

Red sits down beside his brother and props up the plate of kima on his twin’s thighs, just in case he spills, taking enthusiastic bites of his lunch. “You’ll let him stay with us again tonight, yeah, Anti? He’s so tired. You don’t want to wear a body like this right now anyway, right?”

Anti shrugs, his eyes flickering. He turns away, playing with his knife, glancing back up the stairs.

Anonymous asked: Laying it on a little thick there, Dok. I understand you're upset but you don't need to reprimand him in front of everyone, least of all Trick. Taking care of others mistakes that they knowingly make can be hard, but harsh words won't improve things.

Dok raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Trick sighs, shaking out his head.

“Let Dok have his reaction and Dok will let Dapper have his,” he says. “He already backed off. I don’t need to be coddled like I can’t handle the consequences of the choices I’ve made. But thank you.”

cest-mellow asked: you guys should have a pool party ! take your mind of all the stress, dark shouldnt come to your house territory anyway right..?

“Yes, right,” says Red, watching out of the corner of his eye as Anti decides to head back upstairs, stomping with every step. He’s gotten used to watching for Anti’s warning signs with his other siblings, but he has no idea how his brother will react to Dapper resisting like this. He’s never seen the two of them fight in front of the others, and he’s never seen Dapper quite this mad at him. Any of his other siblings could have lost fingers for the things Dapper’s done in the past twenty-four hours. Red shivers and shakes the thought off. “Yeah, Anti says Dark won’t come into the boundaries of the house, whatever that means. And if they show up in the yard again, I’ll fucking take a knife to them, swear by it!”

“Don’t talk like that,” mumbles Blue, rubbing at his eyes. “They’re not something you should mess with, I don’t think.”

“Well, I think we should go outside and sit around the pool, anyway,” says Red, reaching out to start tugging on pants legs - oh, Dapper is wearing slacks after all. Red grins up at his siblings. “Come on, come on! Need some sun!”

“We were just in Peru!”

“And still so pasty white!”

They end up sitting around the pool, Trick and Dok side-by-side at the far end, kicking their legs in the water and making sure the other eats enough while Dapper sinks down into the water like a tiger on the hunt, warm in the water. Red sits Blue down in the pool chairs at the side and they take a moment to look at each other, mimicking each other’s expressions as a game until Red makes a face so stupid Blue snorts with laughter and breaks character, sitting back in his chair, smiling in the sun.

aether-mae asked: Y’all keep an eye on Dap while he’s in the pool in case he’s still dizzy

“Good idea,” agrees Dok.

Dapper puts a hand to his forehead and faints dramatically, slumping back into the water. Red actually does leap up to his feet before Dapper surfaces again, grinning.

“Not funny, Dapper!”

“Dapper, that’s not funny!”

“Carver! Don’t!”

He giggles under the weight of their disapproval and they seem to roll their eyes at him as a collective, smiles flickering on their mouths.

Anonymous asked: Ah the facade of normality, so sweet yet so frail

Red and Blue glance over at you, eyebrows shooting up. Blue doesn’t seem to appreciate the message; Red looks a little unnerved.

“Don’t be weird,” grumbles Blue, turning back to his family.

“That’s my job,” says Red, kneading his hands together. “To make things feel normal when they’re not. Or safe when they’re not. Or okay when they’re not. I - ”

Blue puts a hand on his knee. “It was a weird message,��� he says, squeezing his knee. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

Red nods, turning his attention back to him.

“Hey, will you go get me more water?” asks Blue.

Red is happy to do so. He gets up, taking their cups with him.

It is then that your screen changes in a way it has never glitched, fizzled, or blacked out before.

Someone has taken an Illumination effect to your screens and turned the color all the way down, down, leaving everything monochrome and night-struck, casting them all into shadow. Blue sips at his water as Red returns and you see something smoky and liquid fill up the glass as he puts it against his mouth. In his chair, Red tilts slowly back, until his body is stiff and unmoving against the back of the chair. Dapper is not rising from the pool. Dok and Trick have fallen asleep against each other, and their faces, as you watch, grow more and more hollow. The skin tears on their grey cheeks and white bones glimmer in the dead light of the sun as the color of the pool darkens and darkens and darkens. Blood drips from Blue’s mouth as his eyes flicker and close.

“But you know the truth, don’t you?” comes a cold, drawling voice, deep enough to drown in. “It is just a face - sweet as honey. Frail as mortal bone.”

There is an echo to the voice, not layered like Anti’s, but repeating after it, sometimes changing the way they said it.

“Frail as mortal bone…” it whispers.

“I suppose he put you up to this. You always do whatever he tells you. Play any game he gives you. His loyal, naive little followers. But it doesn’t much matter,” shrugs Dark, flickering into view, blue and red, at the edge of the forest, standing on a cane. They do not appear to you the way they appeared to Anti. Gone is the rot, the decay, the death of them. They are upright and beautiful, with black eyes that glitter like the stomach of the night sky. Black hair curls neatly around their ears and eyes. They are dressed neater even than Dapper, a suit perfectly tailored along the fine curves of their strong body.

They look harmless, respectable, attractive. They are smiling at you.

“I like playing games, you see, with anyone other than him. He’s not here right now,” their voice drawls, low and whispered, as though to make you lean closer to your screen. “So I have a proposition for you, old friend.”

“I have a proposition for you, old friend,” spits the echo.

“It looks like you’ve been watching these poor pets a long time. Attached, are you? I can see glimpses, here and there… illness, torture, sickness in their minds… does it just kill you to watch them being hurt again and again, never getting away?”

“Never getting away? Trapped? Does it just kill you…”

“Bring one of them to me,” says Dark, smiling broadly at you. Their teeth are white like a snake’s. “Bring all of them to me, if you want. And I’ll be kind. I promise. They can rest a while. I have people who can give them anything they want.”

“Anything they want.”

“And no one will hurt them while they’re with me.”

“While they’re with us.”

“But if you don’t… I have more creative ways to bring them with me.”

They smile at you, dark eyes flashing. At the poolside, Red is on the ground, unmoving. Dok and Trick’s chests bleed as twins. Dapper seems to be glitching, thrashing with drowning one moment, still the next, thrashing, still, thrashing, still.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Dark whispers.

They wink. They disappear.

“Thank you, Gigi,” you hear faintly, and then it is all over.

Your screens are normal again. It is a sunny, beautiful day. The boys are unharmed, Dapper chasing a tiny frog around the side of the pool while Red and Blue split another peach and Dok and Trick splash water at each other, laughing. A bird calls, overhead. Everyone is fine.

pine-storm-season asked: Cameras went weird for a moment, was that just for us? It's probably not anything important, I'm just curious if you guys noticed anything about it too.

“Cameras went weird?”

Red turns to pick up a handheld, turning it in circles as he examines it.

“Looks fine,” says Blue.

“Yeah, I don’t know. We weren’t paying close attention, though.”

Anonymous asked: The boys might not have noticed that... "thing", but did Anti also see it?

Anti shoots you a look from his bed, where he’s sitting with about six computers surrounding him or perched on his lap. “I don’t know what the hell you assholes are talking about, but nothing happened in my systems. If something happened, it went through your end of the system, so sucks to be you if you have a virus other than me, but I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine. He looks pissed off and exhausted and unhappy. But that’s probably unrelated.

Anonymous asked: Uh Anti should you really just be going sucks to be us considering that the one who sort of appeared to us seems to be threatening your boys...

Anti stares at you for a moment. Then he bursts into laughter, incredulous. “Yeah, I reckon they fucking did! I was the one who invited them to play this game, you know that right? Fuck. Obviously they threatened them, I told them to try and goddamn kidnap them! Oh, goodness… sometimes I wonder about the lot of you.”

Anonymous asked: So what's your plan here then, Anti? Wouldn't you want to keep them safe from other stuff??

“I thought I explained. I never understand why humans don’t understand when I explain things. I don’t understand what they don’t understand.” He pounds on his keyboard as he types, frowning. “I told you this is someone I… trust. I mean, it’s Dark. They’re my… they wouldn’t hurt my pets. We’re just playing games, that’s all. Dark knows me. I know Dark.”

cest-mellow asked: why would you want dark to kidnap the boys, anti? what happens if they succeed?

“If they snag one of them, they can have Dap for a little while,” says Anti, grinning. “That was the deal we made in the forest. But if not, they’ll help me like I want them to. And that’s the thing, really - even if they do win, I bet they’ll still help me do what I want. Just might have to make up for it in… other ways.”

His smile only grows. He glances out the window like he’s waiting to see Dark again, swaying slightly on the bed.

Anonymous asked: Doesn't it worry you that they know about the cameras and can show us things that you can't see? You don't see that going sideways?

“Fucking Gigi! I’ll kill him! He got into my cameras?”

He leaps to his feet and stands at the window, peering out at the forest, beaming. “Fuck, I knew that little cheat would ask the others for help. Well, doesn’t matter. Gigi may be a force to be reckoned with, but I bet Red can out-hack him. I’ll get him a computer.”

Anti turns back to you, a fang poking out of his mouth. “Besides, I don’t care what they show you. There’s nothing you can do about any of this.”

bupine asked: what other ways, anti? hopefully not something like sacrificing another brother. trick wouldn't like that, would he?

Anti snorts. “Oh, fuck… no. You misunderstand. I meant… other things. But I assume some of you are minors, so I won’t go into detail.“

Anonymous asked: I volunteer Trick

Trick blinks, huddling down at Dok’s side. “Hey! What am I being volunteered for? Guys? Ha, Dok, they’re Hunger Games-ing me. You gotta be my Katniss.”

Dok doesn’t look back at him. His eyes are fixed on the doorway to Trick and Red’s room.

“Dok,” Trick insists, pushing at his shoulders. “Hey, the cameras are talking, you like that. Did you float away on me again?”

Dok shakes his head, turning back to his twin for a moment. “What? Oh, no. I’m here.”

“You’re jumpy all day,” whispers Trick, nuzzling his head down against his shoulder.

“It’s past eight,” says Dok. “Anti should have come to get Blue and Dapper and I. But he hasn’t.”

“He’s just having a hard couple days. Let him rest. It’s okay.”

Dok just stares at the door.

The night has come quietly. He is not the only one who’s tense. Red and Dapper are huddled on the windowsill signing and whispering, Blue laid sleepily across Red’s lap, though his keen blue eyes, at the sound of Trick and Dok speaking, turn and fix on you.

Anonymous asked: Blue, you doing okay?

Red and Dapper pause to look at their sibling and Blue sits up, waving their concern away. “Getting into bed,” he mumbles.

“Okay,” Red answers him, reaching out to pull his head in for a kiss.

Blue crawls into bed, carrying a handheld with him. His eyes shift around the room in warning.

“I thought Anti would come back and make us go upstairs with us, but he’s left us alone. That means he’s planning something. It’ll be worse than just dragging us up the stairs or knocking our heads against sinks until we stop fighting.”

He sighs, deep and hurting.

“I don’t know how to protect them from it. Any of them. Even if he doesn’t touch Trick, he gets his trauma secondhand from watching the rest of us get beat and then it’s all buried under this veneer of amnesia and fake love. Even if he doesn’t touch Dapper, he’ll shove him back into a headspace he hates and make him a slave again. Even if he doesn’t touch me, I have to feel him beneath the skin.”

He pulls a pillow to his chest for a hug, closing his eyes. He needs to calm down.

“I think I could almost convince Red to get them and go,” he whispers. “But there’s that thing in the forest…”

He shakes his head and sighs. His eyes flash open. He looks at you. “I promise Dok and I are working on things,” he whispers, so quiet you can barely hear him over the sound of Pot Noodle hopping up onto the bed and padding towards him to purr like a motorboat in his ears. “I promise…”

Anonymous asked: You're doing great, Blue. This is a really hard situation. You're doing incredibly well, okay? We're here to help, and you have your brothers with you too.

“Thank you,” he says. “That’s nice, really. I want to - I want you to have a better story to read. I think about that sometimes. I want you to see us happier. I want that.”

Dapper giggles in the windowsill and Blue looks up, some of the stress fading into warmth on his face. He and Red are huddled together over one of Dapper’s old sketchbooks, coloring together, the colored pencils you got him for Christmas scattered across the ledge. Blue hums a little, his foggy eyes seeming to clear, if only for a moment.

“Yeah, they’re here. They’re with me.”

Anonymous asked: dok, you good?

Dok is humming to himself, something you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him do. It is a discordant melody. His leg bounces in time with the beat. Trick doesn’t let himself look worried. He wraps his arms around Dok’s shoulders and pulls his body close. He expects Dok to go stiff and silent like he sometimes does. The best thing to do has always just been trying to bring him back down to earth.

“Yes, fine,” says Dok.

His face tightens with pain. Trick is hurting him from holding on too tight. But his twin doesn’t know he’s been beat, cut, and strung up by chain all within the last few nights, and he won’t let him know. He can’t. He can’t go upstairs again. He can’t stay upstairs again. There are spiders in the closet. There are spiders on his skin. He’s crying.

“I am right here,” says Trick, again and again, buried low against his shoulder, pushing you slightly away with his foot. “I am right here.”

“He’s going to come hurt me,” whimpers Dok, hiding against him. “Every night, I… I…”

“I think it’s ‘they,’ buddy,” Trick corrects him gently. “They won’t get you long as you’re in the house.”

Anonymous asked: Trick I know you mean well but I don't think anything you could say to Dok would make him feel better. Everything's a bit off but just... stay with him.

“That’s my job, to make him feel better,” whispers Trick, and something in his voice is wounded and aware. Something in his voice knows this is not wrong. “That’s my job…”

He leans back a little to look at him, but Dok just follows his body, chasing the side of his face with his own and pressing them back together like puzzle pieces stuck together in the box. Trick touches the back of his head.

“You are still a half a world away from me,” mourns Henrik, touching Trick’s wrist. “Wo ist mein zwilling?”

“Here,” protests Trick. “Hey, don’t say that, don’t, I… ich bin da. Always.”

Henrik thumbs at the pulse in his wrist.

Anonymous asked: trick, be gentle with him, okay? i don't think he wants to be squished right now. dok, you're gonna be okay. i know, it's scary and confusing and awful. but you're not in danger right now, bud. try to remember that, okay? you're not in danger right now.

Trick eases his grip around him, confused enough that he glances over to you for guidance. He strokes gently at his back. “It’s true. Not in danger.”

“Never feels that way anymore,” mumbles Dok. “Never.”

Trick bites down hard on his lip. He’s known Dok could probably use counseling for a long time, but it scares him every time he feels like he can hear Dok reading out of a DSM when he’s talking about himself. He scratches his fingers across his brother’s scalp.

“Tell me one thing I could do to make today better,” Trick urges him, trying to smile. “Yeah? If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong or what’s going on, you don’t have to. I’ll just be here. Tell me instead something that’ll make tonight better, okay? Cause we got just about everything we want in this big ol’ house. Right?”

A smile pulls at Dok’s tired lips.

“Yeah, there. Come on. What’s something that could make right now better?”

“I don’t know,” says Dok. “I don’t know, I… I’m sorry, I don’t have ideas.”

Anonymous asked: blue, and i suppose everyone, do you wanna know something funny? dark is anti's Complicated lover haha

Did I say that Blue was exhausted? Have you seen the dark bags beneath his eyes, the aching way he holds himself, the leaning of his body against the thin strength of the cane? Have you seen Blue’s fatigue in every line of his skin?

Suddenly, he is wide awake.

“No. Fucking. Way!” You hear him cry, and immediately he’s laughing so hard he shakes Noodle on his chest. “Holy shit, holy shit!”

“That’s horrible,” cries Red. “Hey, don’t even joke about that! That thing looked like a goddamn skeleton!”

“No way, no way!” howls Blue. “Nooooo, that’s too funny, holy shit! Are you kidding me? No, how does Anti even pretend to be anything’s ‘lover?’ Holy cow… oh, I don’t want to imagine the things I’m imagining, hahaha!”

Dapper rolls his eyes so hard they might get stuck back there and gags.

Anonymous asked: maybe a blanket, or a bit of food, dok? or should we see if there's something else you'd like?

“I could build you a fort,” says Trick, grinning. “With pillows and blankets.”

Dok smiles at him, entertained by his enthusiasm. He shakes his head.

“No? I could… wrap you up like a burrito. With Noodle on top.” He pulls his cat off the bed and presents him to Dok. “Do you want to be all wrapped up with your Uncle, Noodle Pot?”

Noodle meows, sniffing at Dok’s face. Dok closes his eyes, feeling his whiskers across his cheeks.

“I could feed you, yeah, all you want,” says Trick, touching his brother’s ribs, proud to feel a little weight on his body again. He hates the magicians for a lot of things, but at least they fed him well. “There’s brownie mix in the cupboard, you know. I been saving it.”

Dok tilts his head, biting on his lip. “That… might be good.”

“Yeah?”

Dok nods, smiling.

“Come with me,” says Trick, leading him to his feet. “You can curl up in the loveseat and I’ll make you brownies, okay?”

Dok loves him.

“Yes,” he says. “Okay.”

Anonymous asked: just gonna throw this out there but trick uh, anti hurts him. you could help him by keeping him away from anti, and not mentioning him. if you don't believe us, look at his bruises

“Red and Dap are getting along,” says Trick. “Look at them, oh-so-secret, bent over their little book together.”

He almost wants to make fun of them - usually, that makes Dok laugh - but he can’t. Not at that. It’s… nice. It’s good.

“Good for Dapper not to be alone,” murmurs Dok, sitting in the loveseat as promised, petting Noodle luxuriously. His brother’s cat squirms his way up his body and rests against his neck, purring warmly. “And he isn’t the only one getting on better with Red.”

Trick glances back at his twin almost guiltily, stirring brownie mix and eggs and milk together. “I… don’t want to be at odds with him, I decided. We fight, but we’re brothers too.”

He pauses, pouring the mix into a pan. “That’s… okay, right?”

“Why would it not be okay?” asks Dok, confused.

“I don’t know. I just want it to be okay that I - that I sometimes - that you’re not the only person I love.”

Dok stares at him from the chair.

“Like - I want you to know you’re still important, even if I have other people. It doesn’t mean I love you any less if I love somebody else.”

Trick’s cheek stings suddenly. He startles, reaching up to touch his face. He can almost feel the indent of fingers against his skin. He doesn’t know why. It disturbs him.

“Hey, dummkopf,” says Dok, and he turns to see his brother staring warmly back at him.

“Love’s not brownie mix,” Dok tells him, grinning. “It doesn’t thin out as you spread it.”

Trick grins back at him, huffing out a laugh and popping open the fridge. “So what you’re saying is it’s more of a viscous Jello of some kind?”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You started it.”

“I don’t know what it is, I just know it’s not caramel cluster brownie mix.”

Trick laughs.

Dok’s voice has gone soft and earnest by the time he speaks again.

“You do not belong to anyone, my brother,” he says. “Your heart doesn’t. It was meant to be free.”

“You could write poetry for Blue,” answers Trick, only barely teasing. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Dok repeats, with feeling.

“What bruises?”

“What?”

Trick’s voice has changed in an instant, flinty and trembling. Dok looks up from Noodle, confused. Trick is staring at the camera. Then his eyes flicker over to Dok, hard. “What bruises, Dok?”

Dok pulls their cat closer to his stomach, shaking his head. He turns his eyes away from his twin.

“Why do you keep getting bruises? Show me.”

“No,” says Dok. “Leave it alone, Trickshot.”

Anonymous asked: hey, trick? please leave it be for now. come back to that later, maybe, but i think it would be good for you two to just hang out with each other and be happy for a bit.

Trick’s eyes flash between you and Dok, advancing on his brother. For a moment, he considers it - you see it in the uncertainty that crosses through his face.

But Trick, though he often forgets his aggressor, is, in many ways, fighting just as hard as Blue and Dok are. And he knows something is wrong.

“This is scary,” he says, his voice cracking. “Don’t you get that?”

Dok laughs loud and broken. “Do I get that? Do I?”

“This is the first time in my life you’ve kept something from me,” Trick keeps on. “Someone’s hurting you - or you’re hurting yourself. And you won’t tell me about it.”

“I need you to trust me - ”

“No, I need you to trust me!”

“Well, I don’t!” screams Dok, loud enough to startle Noodle off his lap. Their cat streaks away, racing back towards their room. “I don’t! You think I’m fucking hypnotized when you’re the one whose head is messed up! You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you! I can’t count on you! I can’t trust you! Fuck, it’s like you’re not even my brother half the time!”

Trick’s mouth hangs open. His eyes aren’t even hurt - just horrified.

Dok hears himself breathing heavy. Hears the echo of the words like an afterimage on his tongue.

“I - I - ”

Trick can’t speak around his stammer. His hand flutters and comes to rest over his heart.

And then he regains himself again.

And he straightens up.

And he looks at Dok again, kneeling gently down beside him.

Dok feels his own eyes burn. He doesn’t even know why.

Trick touches the open palm of his hand and they breathe together, side-by-side.

Long minutes pass. Trick lets his anger and his hurt go.

Just like that. It doesn’t matter. He’s what matters. His zwilling.

When he pulls back the long sleeve of Dok’s torn coat and finds dark fingerprints in his wrist, Dok does not stop him. Trick rests his forehead against the bruises and grieves them.

“Just… tell me?”

Dok is threading his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t reply.

Anonymous asked: trick, please. i'm not gonna tell you what to do or not to do, but just,,, be aware? pushing dok on this will hurt both of you. like, emotionally. you're picking the scab on an infected wound here. do what you will, but think about what it is you want to do here

Trick sighs very long and very deep. He gives a shaken laugh. Doesn’t know why.

“Does someone know?” he whispers. “Someone who loves you?”

Dok nods.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Is it going to stop soon?”

Dok blinks and tears run down his cheeks. “I really hope so, my brother.”

Trick kisses his bruised wrist, resting his head against Dok’s lap.

“I want to take you to Singapore,” he says suddenly, curling his fingers around Dok’s. “I really think you would have liked it there. I thought about you every time I was happy. I could show you all the places I liked.”

“That would be fun,” says Dok. “I want to push you in the Lion fountain.”

“Ohhh, Dok,” says Trick, because what the fuck else is he meant to say? “Ohhh, Dok.”

He would like to give him worlds and worlds, but all he has are brownies.

Anonymous asked: dok, are you going to say? you don't have to though, love, it's an honest question.

“I just - I just want to see you trying to think for yourself again,” whispers Dok. “Please? It scares me when you don’t act like yourself. I think maybe, secretly, he’s suicidal or wanting to hurt himself again.”

“No, Dok, I feel good,” protests Trick, clutching at him. “I promise, I promise! I would tell you, I promise.”

“But there are these moments where you’re not okay. I keep seeing them! Like suddenly you’re freaking out and you need to break in half.”

“It’s just - I don’t know why that happens, but it never lasts long, bro, it never does.”

“I’m scared you’d get angry at me if I told you the truth,” admits Dok in a croak. “I’m scared I would see just how much you’re really not yourself. That maybe I would think you aren’t going to be yourself again.”

“Hey, stop,” answers Trick. “Look, that… don’t, that fucking stings. Don’t say shit like that. Like I’m losing you. Hey, it’s not fair. I’m trying to be a good brother.”

“I’m sorry.”

Trick rubs at his reddened face, sniffling as he gets up to check the brownies.

Dok turns away. “I think you already know who did this anyway,” he adds, so soft you’re not sure Trick hears it. “But it’s too terrible for you to admit.”

Whether or not he did, Trick doesn’t turn around. He is getting the brownies out of the oven. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t.

Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe.

“I think you already know,” repeats Dok, even quieter. “I think you do.”

Anonymous asked: hey, dok? you and trick and your other brothers will be okay. i know it might be hard to believe that, but don't lose hope, okay? you're gonna be okay. things will get better. i promise.

“Every time I look at him I think, over and over again, ‘I have to get him out of here, I have to get him out of here, I have to get him out of here,’“ says Dok in a hush. “It’s the worst part of the torture. I have to get him out of here. He doesn’t even know.”

He digs his fingernails into his palms and closes his eyes, trying to find his strength again, his hope, like you said.

“I don’t want to be tortured anymore,” he says, his voice creasing. “Things have to get better. I’m scared all the time. But we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here. You promised, yeah? You promise…”

Anonymous asked: Hows the coloring coming guys?-Pink

“Good,” says Red cheerfully, bonking his head against Dapper’s as a sign of affection. Unfortunately, Dapper is not familiar with this form of affection, and he reels back like a startled cat, nearly falling off the windowsill. Red doesn’t notice. “Dap said I could color his old drawings since he never uses color. And I was like, bro, I don’t want to ruin your drawings! They’re yours! But he says he can hardly tell the difference and he doesn’t mind.”

“I have dozens of sketch books,” says Dapper. “These old ones aren’t even that good.”

“Hey, don’t be a dumb-ass,” protests Red, genuinely affronted on his behalf. “They’re really good!”

He holds up a black and white hummingbird. Color is seeping into its feathers, starting at the breast. Red is not particularly neat in his coloring, but his colors have an organization of their own to them, like he’s giving motion to the body of the bird.

“They’re all good!”

Red begins flipping through pages. A bear with its teeth showing. A city in Japan through a small window. Anti. A raccoon, a pinata, a half-dozen clocks, a dark figure with swept-back hair.

Red blinks.

Red stops.

Red stares.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, that’s the Darkness.”

He stares up at Dapper. Dapper stares down at the floor, mouth twisted.

Eyes scared.

“Dapper? What’s going on?”

Anonymous asked: dap, do you feel like saying? it's okay if you don't, this is an extremely stressful situation and i think red will understand.

“Red, Anti won’t listen,” signs Dapper rapidly. “He doesn’t understand. For once, it’s not his fault, but he doesn’t.”

“If he won’t listen to you, that is his fault,” answers Red humorlessly, and you hear a little of his twin’s bitterness in his mouth.

“Be that as it may. You and me and - well, Max - ”

“Max,” repeats Red, for no reason at all.

“We’re the only ones who know about what I did!”

Red sighs, trying to think. “Slow down, slow down. You’re talking about… when you snapped?”

Dapper’s eyes are wide, soaking in moonlight. He nods once. “Do you remember?”

pine-storm-season asked: Could you elaborate, please, Dap? I don't think we really know what happened. You don't have to, though.

“We talked about it. How our old master forgot.”

Red’s eyebrows raise. “Right… Max said he went to see that guy, J - ”

Dapper shoves his hands over Red’s mouth, eyes wide. He pauses for a second before drawing away, making sure Red gets the message.

“Right,” says Red, flushed. “Guess that isn’t a safe name to say.”

“Our old master forgot us,” says Dapper. “Our creator. Even though he made us. When Anti got his hands on him, I was psychotic and I was scared for him. I snapped - and created a whole separate timeline from the correct one.”

“Right,” says Red. “Like a timeline where we shouldn’t even exist. Where none of us happened, so Anti can never hurt him. That’s why the cameras said there should be videos of us on that Youtube channel, but there aren’t. Because this is a different timeline.”

“Yes.”

“Dap, we better pray Anti is asleep.”

“He’ll just think we’re losing it if he hears us talking like this. But that’s the timeline we’re in now, Red - one where it’s like we never even existed.”

Red pauses, picking at his lip. “So no one would know we exist.”

“Right.”

“Even people we used to know, people we know we had connections with… to them, it’s like we never existed.”

“Right!” cries Dapper. “That’s what you have to remember me saying, or the rest doesn’t make sense. I snapped the timeline. That’s why our old creator doesn’t remember us. That’s why no one remembers us. Like we talked about at the motel in Colombia. Okay? So listen: I broke the timeline trying to protect our creator and I spliced different pieces together. Now, it’s like no one created us at all, like we just came to be. So no one remembers us at all, even if we think they should. Understand?”

Red laughs. “But, Dap, that’s not true!”

Dapper blinks, drawing back from him. “How do you mean?”

“People do remember us,” Red insists. And then, softer: “Max remembers me.”

Dapper looks away, thinking. He rubs at his mustache. Red can almost see his little brother’s brain whirring away like the inside of a computer.

“But… the old master doesn’t remember us.”

“Well, that’s not really true either,” says Red, making Dapper’s head snap up. “Remember? The way he reacted to Max coming to his door wasn’t normal. He didn’t act like Max was crazy. Max said he kept saying our names. Over and over and over.”

“Like he was trying to remember,” says Dapper uncertainly.

“Yeah.”

“Like, even though the timelines snapped…”

“There’s still some people who remember us. Even though it’s like we didn’t exist.”

“Why would they do that?”

Red shrugs, looking down at his hands, fidgeting. “Dap, I - when I found Max, it wasn’t like he was… new. I mean, I forgot everything about him, yeah. But it was still like… like he was a piece of me.”

Dapper looks down at his hands.

“Maybe,” he says after a moment. “Maybe it’s possible, that even though I broke the timeline and made it like we just popped into existence instead of being created… maybe there were some people who were so much a part of us, and us so much a part of them, that I couldn’t just take us away from them.”

“And they remember,” agrees Red softly. “Like we’re trying to remember. Like… girls who smell like cigarettes. Like Trick said. She’s a part of him no matter what happens and what Anti takes or what timelines you shift. Some things - some things don’t get erased. Not even by powerful magic. Some people are too important to forget even if you did snap the timeline.”

Dapper pulls at his beard, silenced by the realization. Red turns his head, peering out the window, where the great darkness of the forest waits, looking back at him.

“So the question is… was Anti important enough to Dark for them to remember him?”

Dapper curls his hands together over his heart, closing his eyes.

“And what will they do to us if they don’t?”