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#no matter how their reunion goes…. I’ll be dead on the floor
teehee-vibes · 5 months
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Thinking of Chip and Arlin today…
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blackbat05 · 3 years
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Day by Day
Shangqi x Reader 
A/N: My love for this man has hit an all time high so let me capitalize on it while I still can! If you read everything, I sincerely thank you for doing so!!! And holy cow 2 fics in 2 days have I gone back into my prime days? 
Genre: PG-13
Notes: As the title mentioned, I’ll probably set it some time after endgame. You could see it as a prequel to my first post! Reader is a social worker and she’s just dealing with all the mess that the snap bought back. The reader’s name as Jen Lee. I also apologize in advance for the potentially long fic. 
***
‘Excuse me, I’m looking for my child? Her name’s Wang Yiman and she’s seven.’ Another frazzled-looking parent fought her way to the front of the receptionist, approaching the helpless intern who looked like she was going to be on the verge of tears if another request came in. 
‘I got this,’ a hand calmly reassured the young intern as she beckoned the relief parent. ‘Mrs Wang? My name is Jen Lee and I’m the social worker here.’ I offered my hand for the anxious mother. ‘Oh thank god! Is Yiman ok? She must have been so scared!’ I slowed to a stop outside the room at the end of the corridor, gently sitting her down. 
‘Yiman has been a very brave girl Mrs Wang, but I will not lie to you. The sudden disappearance of their parents has traumatized a lot of kids. We’ve managed to explain to them what was going on but they will need a lot of support.’ I gave a glance over Mrs Wang’s shoulder, nodding to my colleague, Tammy who was holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails and a floral dress. 
妈妈! mā ma (mommy!)
The young girl ran into her mother’s open arms, allowing the floodgates to open from both ends. I turn to Tammy as we shared a silent agreement to leave the area. ‘That’s the last one for the day,’ Tammy unceremoniously plops herself onto the chair, letting out a groan. ‘Thanks for your hard work Jen.’ 
‘Right back at you.’ I entered the last bit of paperwork before uploading Yiman’s case file onto the portal. Yiman’s reunion with her parents meant the Children and Youth Centre were halfway in getting every displaced child back to their parents. Looking at the dingy television that was hung on the walls at the waiting room, despite not being able to hear anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was apparently in a stand-off against Wanda Maximoff? Reported rumors that Sam Wilson didn’t want anything to do with the shield? It’s been a crazy few weeks but that was utter- 
‘Bullshit! If anything it’s the government. They must have psyched him into giving up the shield.’ My chair swiveled to face Tammy who returned a nonchalant shrug. ‘What? You know I’m right. Doesn’t matter if half the world’s gone or our universe gets split into two - they’re the true evil here. I’m still struggling to find a place after I found a couple making out in my apartment! And you know what the global repatriation council told me? We’re only dealing with urgent cases right now. Well I say f-’
The incessant ringing of the bell interrupted our conversation, replacing Tammy’s tirade into a cheeky grin. ‘Look who’s here!’ 
Shangqi stands behind the counter, dressed in his usual red varsity jacket and jeans, holding bags of what I could only make out as takeout from the Chinese restaurant that was run by a friendly Singaporean couple. ‘Did I interrupt something?’ He scratches his head nervously. ‘Nope, in fact you just saved me from Tammy’s monologue, any further and she’ll explicitly tell me what she saw in her apartment when she got dusted back that day,’ I shivered in mock fear. ‘Still haunts me up till today.’ Tammy meets us by the door, bag in her hand. 
‘I thought you were staying? We got fried dumplings and 泡饭  pào fàn (poached rice).’ 
‘Last minute duty - A parent called, gotta run! Enjoy your dinner date.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, much to our embarrassment. ‘What? It’s not...’ Shangqi stutters, trying to form intelligible sentences. ‘Get out before I throw a fried dumpling at your face Tammy!’ She winks at me, before darting out of the door. Once my nosy colleague was out, I turn towards a red-faced Shangqi. ‘I’m so sorry... just don’t mind her.’ 
‘Huh?’ The man was knocked out of his stupor. ‘Oh yeah... sure,’ in an attempt to forget everything that had just happened, he opened the packets of fried dumplings. ‘Ready for war?’ 
‘I was born ready.’ 
Thirty-five minutes later, all that was left were the remnants of fried dumplings and three empty containers. 
‘This should be illegal,’ I patted my stomach in satisfaction to his amusement. ‘Laugh at yourself! You lost track of how many dumplings you had and ended up taking my share!’ 
Raising his hands in defeat, Shangqi starts to clear the table up. ‘So how’s the center? Everything alright?’ I nodded numbly. 
The past five years had been a blur. Hazy, even. All I remembered was a kid running into the office telling me that half of the staff disappeared during a school holiday program that we were running with a dozen other kids. Parents who survived the snap rushed to our center, demanding to see their children. We couldn’t give them any answer as we too, were equally perplexed. Maybe the only thing that made sense was Shangqi and Katy bursting into the center to help us with the chaos. 
Coming back from what could be the 1000th phone call, I got a glimpse in the children’s playroom where the five years old kids were at, treating myself to an amusing sight. They all had red cloths draped around their neck, each holding a stick that was from the abandoned prop box. Katy wasn’t spared to as she was wearing her own red cloth that seemed a few sizes to small for her. Not that she didn’t seem to mind. 
‘Alright my warriors! Chargeeeeee!!!!!!’ 
In unison, little pairs of feet pattered across the room towards their ‘enemy’, a cardboard cutout of a monstrous creature who was really just Shangqi in disguise. 
‘RAWR! I’ll eat anyone who stands in my way!’ He stands up, mimicking a dinosaur that was about to trample an entire city. I decided that the paperwork could wait, standing near the door to watch an Oscar-worthy performance. With great effort and bravery from the kids, they finally managed to take down 5 foot 10 worth of muscle. 
‘Again! Again!’ 
I chuckled upon seeing Shangqi on the floor, about to drift off into wonderland. It was time for me to step in. ‘Alright kids that’s enough for today! Dinner’s here.’  As the kids dispersed with the help of Katy, it was just the two of us left to clear up the mess. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. I honestly can’t think of what would happen if you guys didn’t come to help.’ 
Perhaps my body language was screaming ‘I’m dead tired, please just knock me out’ as Shangqi takes a cloth from me, folding it back into the box. ‘It’s what we would have done, this place, it means a lot to us - to me.’ 
A small knock on the door diverts our attention away from the trash. Little Yiman stands at the door, as she stares at the both of us with big round eyes. 
‘Yiman, it’s late, what are you doing here?’ I squat down to her eye level. The little girl beams, ‘ 妈妈 said that I could give this to you!’ She passes me a juice box together with a handmade card with colorful scribbles. Maybe I was carrying too much on my shoulders, as I suddenly felt a boulder lifted off me. ‘Thank you,’ I smile at her sweetly, ‘I love apple juice.’ Happy with the response, she runs to Shangqi. ‘Shangqi 哥哥 gē ge (brother)!’ 
He breaks out into a smile, opening his arms wide. Yiman nuzzles her head into his shoulder before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles from his sudden attack of tickles. ‘Are you hear to help Miss Jen?’ I took the trash from his hands, giving him some time with the girl. 
‘Yes I am. Miss Jen needs some help so I’m here today!’ 
‘Are you her boyfriend?’ 
Shangqi freezes on the spot. He had undergone what could be the toughest training by his father, fought the greatest assassins in the world and here he was - stumped by a question from a seven year old. ‘Well... I’m her close friend since when we were very young,’ Yiman looks at him expectantly. ‘She helped me when I was in trouble so I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’ 
‘Like how Ningning helped me when I injured my knee?’ 
‘Yeah... something like that.’ He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful to escape his first crisis. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was telling himself the truth. 
‘Yiman! Your mother’s here!’ The little girl gives him one last hug before running to the waiting room. Shangqi takes a moment to recollect himself. ‘Here I am thinking that you finally managed to have some stamina while interacting with young children, maybe I was wrong.’ I teased as I sat beside him. 
‘Har har, hilarious.’ He tosses me a straw for our peach teas, as we were greeted by the amazing night view of San Francisco. ‘Enough about me, you good though?’ Looks like he didn’t forget the conversation that was cut off earlier. My mind goes back to a few minutes earlier, eavesdropping on the conversation.
‘I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’
Life has been so unpredictable, I don’t even want to think too far into the future. With appearances from more superpowered beings, I don’t know what’s real anymore.
‘Yeah. To be honest, it’s been so crazy and overwhelming but I’ll get through it. I have you don’t I?’ Giving him a wink, I slowly sipped on the sweetness of the tea, savoring the pearls. He pauses for a moment, nodding thoughtfully. 
Life isn’t the same as it was before. But maybe, just maybe... if I had Shangqi, I’ll take each day on one at a time. Day by day. 
[END]
A/N: Hoho! I literally spent the whole afternoon writing because I just had to get this idea out and also because work was pretty slow today. I have no idea what is up with my first two fics hinting at unrequited love? I guess I got inspired by Shangqi’s and Katy’s platonic relationship because I thought it was so well written but I also love Shangqi so I guess is a compromise kinda thing. Again, do like and comment if you wish! Really thankful that y’all have been so kind to me so far! 
Perhaps I’ll try my hand at shorter ones like headcannons before this girl exhausts herself out and I don’t want to do that because I believe I have more to show! 
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Gn!reader comforting dante after a nightmare please?
Can you say: 'angst?' 😅 I hope you enjoy
(Cw just in case: angst, emotional distress, dmc 1 trauma)
Things have been...uneasy for Dante since his last job. 
He wouldn't talk about it, which wasn't exactly new to you, but ever since you and Lady returned to Capulet after a job that yourselves took that had you out of the area for a few weeks and you came back to the shop to find evidence the the place had been sacked and everything from the dusty busted up couch to the old desk that had been sitting in the same spot for a decade tossed around and broken, pieces scattered across the shop also not to mention there looked to be a fire at some point with how there were now charred marks on the floor and walls. When asked by Lady what the hell had happened his answer was simple, cold and dead: "Job." 
After you guys worked to clean the place up, as if you could physically feel the tension growing and growing from the man as he sat there on the only unbroken piece of furniture in the whole office, his chair, staring dead silent at the picture of his mother nicely propped next to him on the ground. The subject was quickly dropped.
It wasn't long before Dante's attitude came back to him, with his shiny new desk he could prop his feet onto and new array of furniture that you convinced Lady to go help you buy with your cut of the money from your job together filled his shop, things felt like they went back to how they were before. You and Lady were taking in the jobs that came in while Dante declared himself on 'vacation' that mainly consisted of him sitting at his desk with a magazine over his eyes - not that you minded, you just appreciated he was actually taking time to rest, but it wasn't long before what truly happened on that last job needed to be addressed again. 
You were in the kitchen making a cup of coffee while looking through the mail, going through all the normal things you expect to see when getting the mail; bills, sales ads, and even more bills. However one important thing you do see and one you've been seeing for quite some time now was postcards addressing Dante. Now in all your time you've known the son of Sparda you have never once gotten postcards from anyone and they were all signed with a woman's name you did not recognize; Trish. Now you never really read what neatly scrawled onto the back out of respect for privacy, but you trusted your boyfriend and every time they came in you politely gave them to him for he looked them over and put them in a drawer in his desk. 
You take a sip of your might of coffee before gathering up the postcard and bills into your hand and aim to drop them off at Dante's desk so he can look them over when he wakes up from his scheduled magazine nap of the day. A loud hellish crackle throughout the air and slam onto wooden flooring makes you drop the papers in your hands instead of the relative easy pace you usually take to come out from the kitchen and into the office you're quickly up to arms grabbing your gun from the kitchen table and ready to fire at any demonic threat the moment you bash through the door but instead your met with Dante in devil trigger on the floor fallen out of his chair, desperately clutching at his face. You waste no time running over and dropping to the ground next to him. 
"You alright?" 
You go in to touch him only for clawed fingers to push you away, taking you back a little but you shake off and apologize. He shakes his head as he finally does speak, his voice distorted but you can still hear the human shakiness in it. 
"No, I'm good. Just a dream - just a dream." The way he spoke sounded more like he was telling himself that more than he was reassuring you. 
He closes his eyes and quickly fazes out of his demon form, the human one flashing before you. Now you can see the sweat drenching his face that causes his hair to stick to his forehead. 
Now you've had deal with Dante having nightmares before, the ones about his mother and brother and how he blames himself for...everything that happened to them, main one you've heard from him is if he had just let Vergil read that damn book instead of bugging him to play that they might still all be together today. 
Words swell in your throat as you watch him go get himself back up, white hair slipping over to curtain your view of his eyes as he stood to his feet and plumped onto his desk. Your eyes sadden as you watch him as he wipes a gloved hand over his face to clean off of the sweat clinging to his flesh until it's all visibly gone but soon he stills and keeps his face covered leather clad talons digging into his own temples until there's a point you swear you can see blood - his whole then body seems to just…lax. In such a still stone fashion as it becomes unnerving to watch. 
It's a few moments of heavy tension filled silence before either of you speak again but when it does it's actually Dante to be the one to speak, the statue unstones as he just seems to light with life with the exact moment the mask of facade slips on. 
"You hungry? Because I'm starving and you know what they say? You're not you when you're hungry or some bullshit right? I'll get us a pizza." 
How he turns and picks up the phone like it was just like it was any other conversation and nothing even happened is heartbreaking. He goes to press in Fredi's number that he knows by heart but is immediately stopped by you as you jump up and slam your hand on top of his and crash the phone back into the receiver, your voice cuts out any bullshit that the son of Sparda could have possibly pull out of his ass as you look him directly into his eyes and call him out by his name, your tone soft yet abrupt and bluntly straightforward. He wasn't going to bluff out and run away from this, no matter how much he wanted to you wouldn't let him. 
You stand right in front of him, in between his legs and making direct eye contact with him, Dante shutters out a breath as his churning gut begins to shake his core less and less as he focuses on the touch on his hand, how warm yours is as it comfortably squeezes his and makes him more aware of himself. Had he really been shaking this entire time? 
Your expression softens the more and more that you look at him until eventually he lets you snake an arm that isn't holding his hand around him and just feel as he seems to just melt against you. 
The two of you say that way for a while, he buries his face into your neck/chest and lets you comb and pet your fingers through his hair. You collect your thoughts before pushing him back slightly and raise his chin up to meet your gaze. 
"You don't have to talk about it, Dante. But I'm not letting you just pretend like everything's fine when both you and I know clearly that isn't the case. Bottling in all those complex feelings isn't good for anyone, even, and especially for someone as strong as you who's been through so damn much for far too long. Just...hold onto me, okay? For as long as you want, anything you need. And if you do want to talk about it-" Your voice carries off. "-I'll always be here to listen."
He takes in your word, conflicted. His eyes flickered over to stare at the wooden flooring and you can actually see him go through and argue with his own thoughts before he looks back to you, opening his mouth with an airy pause before letting out a sigh. 
He tells you everything, in full detail, everything about his last job. 
From Mundus' resurrection plan on Mallet Island, to answering a few of your earlier questions about that woman from the postcards - Trish a demon Mundus made in identical image of Dante's mother, the trails he faced all over the island leading him into hell itself to defeat Mundus, and most notably, his reunion with his brother after almost ten years - who from what you understood was barely a shadow of his former arrogant self; corrupt, brainwashed, broken. How he fought him, he killed him with his own hands. How maybe none of this would've happened if he just let him read that damn book or if he just had grabbed and yanked his ass and stopped his descent into the further depths of hell, what turned him into...who he fought. 
It's hard to listen to him as he spills out every single unheld back dark thought of his, but you let him finish no matter how much it hurts or terrifies you, you let him finish until he's out of words and practically sobbing into your arms, then you only hold onto him tighter. 
He looks visibly tired by the time he recollects himself, he apologizes for it but you shake your head and hold the sides of his face and remain quiet only pressing a soft kiss to his lips before telling him how much you love him and how proud you are that he managed to tell you what he did. Talking through it is the first step to healing and all. He hums as he rests his head onto you and holds you close, succumbing to the feeling in his chest and closing his eyes for just for a little while, even though he knows he shouldn't sleep just sitting at his desk with you just standing there with how long you've been like this your feet are most like tired, but he absorbs every little touch you make as he slowly lulls away.
This was was from over, both he and you knew that, wounds and events are still fresh in his mind and it would still be a few years until he goes through the worst of it (*cough cough* there's still dmc 2 era to go through *cough cough*) but even when he's through his worse - but Dante's glad that he can feel at least a small bit of solace in the comfort in your arms. 
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alyssadeliv · 3 years
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The Forgotten One
First      Previous
Chapter 10
Chosen One. 
Marianne Al Ghul. 
Mari. 
Pixie.
The Lily of the Desert. 
Marinette Dupain. 
Ladybug. 
The Great Guardian.
And now she would eventually become Marianne Wayne. 
She had had multiple names and lived for what felt like a hundred lives, all very different, but all of them with one thing in common. Damian. 
From the moment he was born until her first death, she lived for him. Always there to aid and protect him at all costs. At all costs. She lived for him. The only time she had something for herself, it was taken from her. So she wasn't good with owning things. Her whole life nothing was truly hers. Damian was the League’s. The Miraculous were the Order’s. She was divided between two organizations. Never truly belonging to one or the other. She ached to belong, so it was very important that she proved herself to her father. She knew she was never enough for her mother, she was indeed the second option. Useful enough to not be discarded, but not the heir she most desired.
So now. Standing in front of her Father, having imagined this moment her whole life, she had to admit, she was scared. Would he reject her too? Would she be enough?
“Father… This is Marianne, your daughter.” Damian presents her. She doesn't know how to act so she stays in place, awaiting instructions or directions, but still getting the time to analyze the man in front of her.
He was taller than she imagined, but intimidating with his Batman attire just as she had pictured. He looked at her in a cautious way, as if at any moment she would combust into flames. She kept her eye on him, looking for some sort of sign on how to act. It took some time but eventually, his expression turned to a mesmerized one. 
“You look like my mother…” He whispered, reaching to her with his right hand but never touching her. His face in awe. “How… I-”
He turned his head to Damian as if he could explain more. In his face a lost and anxious expression. She could see that her little brother wanted to comfort their father, but didn't know how. So he stayed at her side, hoping that his presence was enough. Clearly, it wasn’t.
“I need to think'' And with that he turns and walks out of the cave, never even sparing a glance back. The only thing that can be heard are his footsteps, and when those are gone, an awkward silence installs.
Only then does Marianne let go of the air she didn’t even know she was holding. With not even a nod of his head father had dismissed her. He was similar to Mother after all. Only ever interaction with her if needed, just to make sure she was still alive. She could deal with that, she knew what to expect. That actually calms her more than it should. The uncertainty was still there, but at least she knew that deep down he could care for her in the future as her mother did. 
“Daeh Washanuh” She tells her brother when she sees his indignant face. Her father needed time, she understood that, so for now she would let him be. 
She still felt a bit weak, having spent all her energy between fighting her brother and mending her injured body. Damian must have seen said exhaustion because he instantly went to her side, to support her. With her body pressed against his side, and a strong arm crossing her waist holding her she admired how much he had grown. He was taller than her now. Stronger too. Gone was the 10 year old that followed her around. In his place was a slight better version of that person. She gives him a reassuring smile, trying to transmit her gratitude and appreciation without words, the same way she would do before they were separated. She could only hope they still understood each other after years of no contact.
Damian chooses that instant to start introducing the others. The redhead in the wheelchair looks at her with interest, as if trying to solve a puzzle. She doesn't seem to be judging her like the guy in the red leather jacket with a shocked expression is, so she counted that as a win. The dark haired teen that she knocked out a few days ago looks like he’s seen better days, and by the dark spots under his eyes and the large cup of what she assumed to be coffee in his hand, he was an insomniac, like her. The two still wearing their full costumes start to remove their masks, the one in blue has a calm expression, but the other is still very much shocked.
“Habibti... This is Richard Grayson, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Jason-”
“Todd.” She smiles. “Long time no see.” 
How could she ever forget those blue eyes that hunted her dreams. He was a big part of her past, and she would always be able to spot him in a crowd. 
She can almost remember the first time she met him. At only 13 she was tasked with training this overemotional 16-year-old. Let’s just say their relationship wasn’t good at the beginning. He carried too much anger inside of him to allow him to listen to what she was trying to teach him. He was hot-headed and stubborn, and most of the time she just wanted to throw her dagger at him to see him bleed. But after some time they got close. Closer than they should. 
At that time Grandfather had intensified Damian’s training so she wasn’t able to see him much, instead, she found herself around Jason a lot. They confided in each other. She gave pieces of herself to him that she never gave anyone else, only for him to be ripped from her life as punishment. 
Last she heard her mother had dealt with him. She assumed she had killed him. But seeing him in front of her, healthy and very much alive was a relief. She had mourned him for a long time, but the joy she feels in knowing he was alive was immense.
“Pixie!” Jason speaks for the first time, by now he already got up from his seat, and is now standing in front of her. Different from her Father's reaction, he seems to need to touch her, to guarantee that she is real and truly there. Confused about how she knew his older adopted sibling, Damian backs away from his sister, too stunned to properly comprehend what was happening. She now was using Jason as support, feeling the heat of his body next to her’s, just proving that he was really there.
Pixie was a nickname he gave her when they first met after he discovered she could do magic. At the time she did not understand the reference, not having grown up with fairytales, but after he patiently explained to her about fairies she could see where he was coming from. Small and Magic. That was enough to describe her. And secretly she was pleased to have a nickname especially made for her. “I told you we would see each other again…” He says with a smug smirk on his face. Caressing her cheek with his hand. Oh, how she missed that look on his face. 
“Am I the only one that’s freaking out with this scene in front of us?” The spell is broken by the voice of the blue hero. Richard. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. She knew a bit about him, when she was younger a part of her training was inspired by his stunts on the field. “How the hell do you know her, Jaybird? Bruce’s secret love child?” 
He still holds her, more for support than anything else. It’s been a long time since they’ve been together, but their friendship hopefully still remains. She takes him not letting her go, as a sign that she wasn’t the only one affected by this unexpected reunion. When she first arrived at Gotham she knew she would inevitably meet her extended family when she finally sought her brother. And yes, it came to no surprise that Jason Todd was once her father’s ward. But remember that she did believe him to be dead. And if that was truly the case she would carry her secrets to her grave. But apparently, it was time to come clean to her brother. Her relation with Jason was the one thing she ever kept from Damian. And she could see from the look on his face that he was very confused.
She detaches herself from Jason and tries to reach her little brother, but the day's activity finally takes a toll on her body and she trips and almost collapses on the floor if not for the two that come to her rescue. Jason being the one closer to her catches most of her weight, but Damian has both her hands into his own.
“I'm fine…” She tries, but by the look on both their faces, they don’t believe her one bit.
“Dick, why don't we leave the rest of the interrogation for tomorrow? When Bruce can participate.” Barbara speaks for the first time. She pushes herself away from the table and starts making her way out of the cave in her wheelchair. It seems that her words have power, because with only a grunt and a side glance and he leaves as well. Sometime between her father leaving and Jason making himself known Timothy fell asleep, face down on the table in what could only be described as an uncomfortable position.
If she wasn’t so exhausted she would have questioned how easily Damian’s family accepted to wait until tomorrow for answers. If it was her she would want them as soon as possible. No matter what.
“Come, I’ll show you to my room” Damian removes her from Jason’s arms and starts directing her through the same path all the others took out of the cave. Tomorrow she would come back and admire all the technology and weapons the Bat Cave provided, but for now, she was content in being almost carried to a comfy bed. After almost a month of chasing Gabriel Agreste around the globe and mostly sleeping when she could, wherever she could,  just the thought of sleeping in an actual mattress brought her immense joy. “I promise to not ask questions today, but I need an explanation for the display of affection you gave Todd downstairs.” His tone is stern and she knows he meant that. 
"Deal." He nods, accepting my answer.
We walk through a long corridor for quite some time, but eventually, we stop in front of a door. Damian opens it and carries me to the bed. He sits me in his bed and goes to his wardrobe. While he does that she admires the size of his room, which is big, just as it was in the League, but here she can see bits of his personality. Photos on the wall, drawings on the tables. She is happy that he gets to explore his part of himself. When he comes backs he hands a change of clothes to her, and without saying anything he makes his way to what Marianne assumes is an adjacent bathroom. Leaving her room to change alone. He gave her a black long-sleeved shirt and black pajama bottoms that were definitely too small to git him now, and she can only question as to why he has it still.
She removes her attire and changes into the offered clothes, but not before inspecting the place where there was supposed to be a wound. She was healed, as expected, but her dried blood still clings to her abdomen. By now Damian finally comes back, wearing an outfit similar to hers and carrying a damp towel.
“I thought you would want to clean yourself of the blood.” He hands her the towel. She in return gives him a sincere smile, accepting the offered object and immediately removing all traces of blood from her body. 
While she did that, he sat on the other side of the bed, removing some pillows and getting under the covers. Marianne leaves the towel on the floor beside the bed and carefully puts one knife on the bedside table and her dagger under her pillow. Old habits die hard after all.
Damian observes her with a nostalgic look on his face but otherwise remains silent. He turns the light off by the switch near his bed and the bedroom immediately gets dark, the only source of light coming through the closed windows. As she gets under the covers she feels his body getting closer to hers. And she can’t help but smile again, remembering how many times they did this exact same thing during their childhood without their mother knowing. Or at least they thought she didn't know, not knowing she merely allowed them this simple thing.
“Aishtaqt lak ya 'akhi” She repeats the same words she said to him when they were on the rooftop earlier that night.
Her only answer is his hand finding hers and giving it a squeeze.
Final chapter of part one! Do you like the stoy so far? After a lot of messages from you guys I decided to continue with a part 2 of this story. Still haven’t decided how long it would be, probably about 10 more chapters but who nows. Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter, its was finals week at my university and you know how it is. 
Let’s hope I get more time to write! Thank you all fot the support do far! You are all amazing!
It curently 3 am so sorry if there’s any mistakes!
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bluejayblueskies · 3 years
Text
the before, the after, the in-between
Chapter Six: mixed reunions Words: 4.2k
Relationships: Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin, Daisy & Basira Tags: Post-Canon, Scottish Safehouse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mute Jon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Work Summary:
There was no knife, no blood, and Jon was not dead. And when he heard a strangled noise from beside him and looked over to see Martin standing in the doorway of the safehouse, flung open and letting in the frigid bite of near-winter and sunlight, there was sunlight, he felt such a dizzying, intense wave of relief that he could hardly breathe around it.
Then, he opened his mouth to say Martin’s name, and nothing came out, and all of the relief fell away in an instant.
.
Jon wakes up in the safehouse in October of 2018, alive and well but without the Eye and without his voice. In the days that follow, he finds himself confronted with a world that has reset itself in space and in time, a version of himself that is no longer the Archivist, and the fact that death during the end of the world had not been so permanent as it had seemed.
Chapter Summary:
Basira seems happy to see you, Jon writes.
Daisy exhales slowly. “Yeah. She does.”
Jon waits for her to elaborate. When she doesn’t, he sighs, taps his pen on the paper a few times, and writes, And is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Daisy stares at the page a long while. Just when Jon thinks she’s not going to answer him at all, she says, “It’s… good. Just odd. Feels… like she shouldn’t be.”
Read on Ao3 (link in source)
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven
Or read below:
(cw for mentions of gun and knife violence, mentions of death/murder, mentions of blood)
Stars are just beginning to fill the sky when there comes a knock at the door—two crisp taps, unhurried, but with a heavy insistence that has Martin standing from the couch quickly, mumbling, “I’ll get it,” and crossing the room while Daisy and Jon watch from where they’re still sat on the couch.
“Hel—oh, yes, come in,” Martin says as he opens the door and Basira immediately pushes past, her eyes scanning the room in front of her with a firm intensity. “Nice to see you too,” he mutters as Basira’s eyes find Daisy, and a wide-eyed expression crosses her face so quickly Jon can’t pin down what it’s meant to be.
“Daisy,” Basira says, and then she’s across the room and standing in front of Daisy, hand halfway outstretched towards her. “It’s… it’s really you?”
Daisy’s hand twitches where it’s clasped in Jon’s. He gives it a subtle, reassuring squeeze. “It’s really me,” she says quietly.
Basira’s eyes scan Daisy’s face, the outline of her body, as if searching for imperfections. After a moment, her eyes find Daisy’s again and she nods, as if confirming something for herself. “Right,” she says, retracting her hand and dropping it to her side. Next to him, Jon can feel Daisy tense slightly, though her face remains carefully calm. Basira takes in a deep breath, lets it out, then steps forward and wraps her arms around Daisy’s shoulders, bending down at an awkward angle to do so.
Daisy goes rigid for a moment before softening. Her hand slips out of Jon’s as she tentatively returns the hug, her hands ghosting across Basira’s shoulder blades and her fingers tracing the hem of Basira’s hijab. Basira exhales again sharply, gripping Daisy a little tighter as she does so, and says, “I thought you were gone.” Her voice is even, but there’s a layer of desperation underneath it that makes it sound choked at the edges. Jon suddenly feels very out of place, and he tries to subtly shift towards the other end of the couch to give them space.
“I was,” Daisy says, voice muffled by the fabric of Basira’s hijab. “But now I’m not.”
Basira laughs a bit unsteadily. “Right,” she says again. “I… I wondered if you were back. Didn’t want to think about it too hard, though. Just in case.”
Daisy is quiet for a moment. Then, so quietly Jon almost doesn’t hear, she says, “I’m sorry, Basira.”
Basira grips her tightly for a moment more, then pulls back so she can study Daisy’s face. “Don’t be. You didn’t force me to do anything. I made you a promise, and I kept it. That’s just how it was.” She exhales slowly. “Besides, none of that matters now. You’re back, and that’s a good thing. God knows there’s enough that’s wrong in the world right now.”
Daisy sits very still, a strange sort of tension keeping her rigid. “You’re… not angry?”
Basira frowns. “No. It was hard, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t you, Daisy. You were trying to be better, before, but you did what you had to, and so did I. It’s just how it was; no point in being upset about it.”
Daisy looks down at a point just beneath Basira’s eyes. “Yeah. No point,” she echoes. After a moment, she says, “You’ve been… okay, then?”
Basira’s lips purse. “I’ve been managing. Finding my own way. Dealing with…” She waves her hand in the air, an encompassing gesture, and Jon doesn’t miss the way her eyes flick over to him. He’s not particularly fond of it, though he fights back the scowl. “It’s been a mess.”
“You said it’s been bad,” Martin says, coming up behind the couch with four mugs of tea carefully balanced in his hands. He passes the first one to Jon with a thin-lipped smile, then to Daisy and Basira in turn. “What does that mean?”
Basira sighs and blows across the surface of her tea in an attempt to cool it. “Well, after you… reset the world? Which we’re going to have a long conversation about, by the way.” She looks pointedly at Jon, who looks pointedly back and takes a sip of his tea to hide his glower. He’s still a bit irritated about the whole… group decision situation. Maybe more than a bit. “I woke up in the Institute, still sitting at the same bloody desk I’d been working at when everything went to hell. I knew something was off straight away, because that feeling of being watched? It just wasn’t there. Didn’t matter how, didn’t matter why—it just wasn’t. So I assumed that the plan worked and the Fears were gone, but I didn’t know yet that we’d been thrown back in time or whatever. Got up and started looking around, trying to figure out where Georgie and Melanie went. Yeah, it was weird that everything looked the same, but I’d seen weirder.”
Basira takes a long sip of her tea. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon sees Daisy shift, setting her still-full mug on the side table and tapping her fingers on her thigh in a rhythmic pattern. He thinks, for a moment, about reaching out, but instead, he just curls his fingers tighter around his own mug. “The place was pretty empty,” Basira says finally. “Before the change, the blood and stuff was all cleaned up about a week after that last attack on the Institute, and then it was just me and a few others. Rosie, a couple of people from Artefact Storage. The people who’d survived and who weren’t smart enough to just… stay away. Rosie was still at her desk. She looked like she’d seen… well. She looked like she’d seen what the rest of us had seen. And…”
Basira exhales slowly, and for the first time, she looks… hesitant. Like she’s not sure she should continue. After a moment, Martin says, “And what, Basira?”
Basira looks down into her tea, her jaw set. “And him. Elias. Jonah. Whatever. Just… sitting behind his desk when I opened the door to his office. Like nothing had even fucking happened.”
A shock of something simultaneously icy cold and red-hot laces up Jon’s spine, and he nearly drops his mug. He looks at Basira with wide eyes, even as he thinks that it makes sense, of course it makes sense, everyone who died while the world was wrong came back, of course he would too, why would it be any different. He remembers the sensation of the knife tearing its way through Jonah’s throat, the heat of the blood as it had dripped down his hands and wrists, tries to juxtapose the image of Jonah lying dead on the Panopticon floor with the image of him sitting alive and well and breathing behind his desk once again, and feels sick. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until the exhalation rips its way harshly out of his throat like it’s been punched out of him. He barely feels Daisy’s hand as it wraps around his, barely feels it as she takes the mug of tea from him and settles it on the floor so it won’t spill. He registers the brush of another hand against his arm, and he hears Martin’s voice from beside him, saying with concern, “Jon? Breathe, love. It’s all right, just breathe.” Then, to Basira: “Christ. He’s alive?”
“Was alive,” Basira corrects, and just like that, all of the air crashes back into Jon’s lungs and he takes a deep, rattling breath, his eyes focusing on her face as it twists into something that might be called a smile if one were being generous with the definition. “I… I didn’t really think. Just pulled my gun and pointed it at him. No Eye, no contract. No reason not to kill him. I wasn’t planning to shoot him, not really, but then he started rambling about- about apotheosis and failure and second chances, trying to convince me that there was no need to be hasty, that we could work something out. Called me Detective again. Just the same slimy bullshit, but without all the bravado and without the collateral.” Basira sighs and looks up from her tea, glancing at Jon with something unreadable on her face. “Melanie was pissed that I didn’t let her stab him.”
Jon makes a choked noise that he thinks, after a moment, might be a laugh. It’s devoid of any amusement, though, and might be bordering on hysterical. Beside him, Martin says quietly, “Shit. Well, uh. That’s… that’s good, at least?”
Basira grimaces. “Sure. It’s great that the bastard’s dead—again, I guess, assuming that you did kill him before everything went back to normal—but things are still a disaster back in London. I’ve been trying to keep them from tearing down the whole Institute, though don’t ask me why I even care about the place after all this. People are angry.” Basira taps her fingers on her thigh in thought. “It’s… probably for the best that you guys ended up out here, actually. Things haven’t been good for the people in charge of domains. They got ahold of Simon Fairchild, and it… it wasn’t pretty. There’s been some chatter about leniency towards the less actively malicious former avatars—I think that came up after they found Callum, actually, which… yeah, that’s a whole thing—but…”
Basira shrugs. But people wouldn’t be so forgiving towards the person who ended the world, Jon thinks with a wry, twisting feeling in his stomach. He fiddles with the notebook where it sits on his lap, but he doesn’t open it. After a moment, Basira continues, “So that’s the state of things, basically. Even though everything’s technically fixed, there’s still a lot of damage, and Georgie, Melanie, and I have been handling it as best we can. Though I think Melanie’s of the opinion that we should just let the entire Institute burn. She’s probably right, but…” Basira shrugs. “It’s just a building full of scary stories now. Might be able to make some use out of it.”
“Right,” Martin says with a sigh. “That’s… a lot.”
“Yeah,” Basira says, sounding weary. “It’s… it’s nice to have a break. To just appreciate the fact that everything’s better now, you know?”
Better for us, Jon thinks bitterly, and he can feel the edges of his mouth twitching into a scowl that he forcibly represses. He doesn’t think pointing out that they’ve condemned an infinity of other worlds to suffering for their own peace of mind would be beneficial, given they’ve already driven that argument into the ground and then some. Besides, he thinks as he rubs his thumb over the spine of the notebook, that would require him to open the notebook and writing it down, and Basira doesn’t know about his voice yet. He’s too tired to hear whatever surface-level pity she might be able to conjure up for him.
“I’ve missed you, Daisy,” Basira says, an increased vigor in her voice as she turns to face Daisy. She looks like she wants to reach a hand out towards her, but she doesn’t. “It’s been… hard. Being alone with all of this. I’ve had Melanie and Georgie, but I… I could use my partner.”
Daisy stares at her for a long moment. When she speaks, her voice is slightly more hoarse than usual. “You want me to come back to London with you.”
Basira nods, a slight frown forming on her face. “Do you… not want to?”
Daisy is quiet for a long moment. Her eyes stare down at the floor, focusing on nothing at all. “I don’t know,” she says finally, the words tense and choked, like the honesty of them pains her. “I… I need to think.”
Basira watches her for a few seconds, something stiff and rigid on her face. “All right,” she says at length, a touch of surprise and resignation lacing her voice. “That’s fine. I can’t stay past tomorrow, though—I have to get back and deal with what’s going on back in London. If you don’t want to…” Basira’s mouth flattens into a line. “It’s fine. I’ll understand.”
“It’s not—” Daisy cuts off with a frustrated noise, almost a growl. “I just need to think.”
“All right,” Basira says again, more placating this time. “I… won’t rush you.”
It’s quiet in the room for a long moment. Finally, as if at a loss for anything else to say and falling back on instinct, Martin offers a tentative, “Would… anybody like something to eat? You’ve been traveling all day, Basira, I don’t know if you’re… er, hungry or not.”
Basira stares at Daisy a moment more. Then, she sighs and says, “Sure, why not.”
“Great!” Martin says, sounding relieved. “Let me just… I’ll see what we’ve got that’s quick.”
He stands, and Basira stands in tandem with him. “I’ll help,” she says. “I’ve got some… things I want to talk to you about. And then after we eat, we’re going to discuss…” She gestures in the general vicinity of Jon and Martin. “Everything.”
Jon curls in on himself slightly. Martin just sighs and says, “Come on, then.” They disappear into the kitchen, and then Jon is left with Daisy on the couch, the faint clatter of cupboards opening and dishes rattling settling into the background.
Now that they’re alone, Jon reaches over and bumps his hand against Daisy’s, a silent question. When she turns her hand over, he takes it in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing firmly. With his other hand, he awkwardly flips the notebook open, ignoring Daisy’s sound of amusement as he clumsily takes his pen in hand and balances the notebook at the same time, and writes, Are you okay?
Daisy pauses for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah,” she says simply.
Jon waits for her to elaborate. When it becomes clear that she’s not going to, he writes, Basira seems happy to see you.
Daisy exhales slowly. “Yeah. She does.”
Again, Jon waits for her to elaborate. When she doesn’t, he sighs, taps his pen on the paper a few times, and writes, And is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Daisy stares at the page a long while. Just when Jon thinks she’s not going to answer him at all, she says, “It’s… good. Just odd. Feels… like she shouldn’t be.”
Jon raises an eyebrow and gives her hand another gentle squeeze. After a moment, Daisy continues, “Even after the coffin, there had been this… weight, between us. I knew she was glad I was back, but I could also tell she was disappointed. She tried to hide it but, heh, she’s always been easy to read for me. She wanted the person I was before, and I knew that, deep down, she was frustrated that I wasn’t that person anymore. I was never… angry with her about it. I understood. Basira’s practical, always likes to have the upper hand. And me choosing to ignore the Hunt… it wasn’t practical. Not for her. She was happy to see me, but she also wished it was a different me. It just… feels weird that it’s not the same now. I’m different, and Basira doesn’t like different. She doesn’t like change.”
There’s been a lot of change lately, Jon writes. Then, while Daisy’s reading his words, he continues, She went through a lot after you were gone. With everything that’s happened, the world the way it is, I
Jon pauses, and Daisy waits as he taps the pen on the paper, leaving little half-formed dots of ink where it makes contact. After a moment, he sighs and finishes, I think she’s just glad that you’re back. Whatever version of yourself that may be.
Daisy looks towards the kitchen. There’s the gentle murmur of voices, too quiet to make out any words above the sound of things sizzling in pots and pans. “Maybe. I… don’t know.” There’s a pause, and then she says, quieter, “Maybe she’s just glad that I’m not a monster anymore.”
When Jon goes to write, she squeezes the hand of his she’s still holding tighter, shaking her head. “Don’t. It’s… complicated.” She’s quiet for a long moment, looking away from Jon and focusing on the faint light streaming in from the kitchen. “The parts of me that she valued the most,” she says at length, “the ones that made me a good partner, that made me strong—they were all that was left by the time she found me after the change. They were all Hunt. And I knew when she looked at me, when she pointed her gun at me, that she saw me. Not the Hunt, not some… monster. Me. But I don’t… know if she believes that it was really me.”
Daisy grimaces, like she’s not happy with the words. Carefully, giving Daisy time to stop him if she wants, Jon writes, You don’t know if she accepts that all the worst parts of yourself are still yours.
Daisy is quiet for a moment. “Something like that,” she says finally. “She… she said it wasn’t me. That the person she hunted through the apocalypse wasn’t me. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell her that it was. That it is. It feels like…” Daisy blows out a breath. “Basira’s good at compartmentalizing. It makes her a good partner, a good… hunter. But if I go with her to London, and she just… puts everything that happened during the change behind us, I don’t think things are going to last.” Daisy huffs out a laugh. “She’s stubborn. I like that about her. Can also make things… difficult.”
Jon laughs through his nose and writes, Yeah, Martin’s like that too sometimes. He hesitates, then continues, So what do you want to do?
Daisy studies his face for a moment. “What do you want me to do?” At his look of surprise, she continues, “I can see it on your face. You have an opinion, so just… spit it out. Write it down. Whatever.”
Jon scowls. I do not, he begins to write, before his hand stills, leaving the sentence incomplete. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and scratches the words out with a bit more force than is strictly necessary. Next to them, he writes in thick, dark lines, I want you to stay. Then, quickly after: But you should go with Basira.
Daisy reads the words and hums. “Why?”
Because she’s your partner, Jon writes, irritation and a strange sort of sadness mixing in him and twisting his lips into a grimace, and because she needs
“I meant,” Daisy says, bumping her knee against Jon’s to cut him off, “why do you want me to stay?”
Jon blinks at her, surprised. He looks down at the paper, holds the pen tightly for a moment, and then writes in careful, neat letters, Because I like you. Does there have to be another reason?
Daisy hums and, after a moment, shakes her head. “No. I guess not.” She bumps her knee against Jon’s again, a bit firmer this time. “Thanks. But you’re wrong, you know. About Basira.” Daisy looks at the kitchen again, where the sizzling has stopped and there’s the faint clattering of dishes. “She doesn’t need me. She’d be fine without me. Always has been.” She sighs. “And so would you.”
Jon nods and squeezes her hand. I know, he writes.
Daisy sighs again, leans her head back against the couch. “I think,” she says after a moment, “that… I have to do what’s right for me. Not me and Basira, just… just me.”
Jon is about to ask what that entails when Martin’s voice floats over from the kitchen, telling them that the food’s ready. Daisy doesn’t say anything more as she stands, snorting softly as her maintained grip on Jon’s hand pulls him to his feet as well, and together, they head into the kitchen.
The first half of the meal is spent in relative quiet. Basira keeps shooting looks at Martin, who returns her gaze with something firm and unyielding. Jon shifts in his chair and nibbles on his cheese toastie, trying very hard not to grab his pen and start tapping it on the table just to fill the tense, awkward silence between them all. Finally, Basira finishes her sandwich, looks at Martin again, sighs, and says, “Martin filled me in on what happened.” Then, at Martin’s glare: “What? I’m not talking about it. I’m just… acknowledging it.”
“Good,” Martin says, pinching his toastie just a bit too firmly between his fingers. “Because there’s not much to talk about. Which is why we agreed not to talk about it.”
Irritation washes over Jon, and he tries to squash it down. He can’t help the way his knee starts bouncing under the table though, and he takes a sullen bite of his toastie. Not much to talk about. Sure. For a moment, he entertains the thought of dropping the sandwich unceremoniously, grabbing his notebook, and scribbling out, Thanks for asking for my input before telling Basira your version of events and saying that there’s nothing to talk about, but he pushes the thought away and takes another, bigger bite to distract himself. It’s fine. Martin’s… Martin’s right, it’s not the time.
(He’s still upset that he didn’t even get the slightest say in the matter. It’s fine.)
Rationally, Jon knows that Martin is just trying to avoid what would probably turn out to be a long, spiraling, extremely upsetting conversation-turned-argument. Irrationally, he wants to push the words we’ve condemned a thousand realities to hell; are you happy now? into Basira’s face and watch her try to defend herself. Was it worth it? he wants to ask. Was it fucking worth it, just so you can have your happy ending?
He doesn’t ask. He knows what her answer will be, and he doesn’t want to hear it right now.
It’s fine.
“So,” Basira says, not so much breaking through his thoughts as driving a battering ram through them, “the Fears are gone. For good. And they took your voice with them.”
“Basira,” Martin hisses.
“Just making sure I’ve got all of my bases covered,” Basira says defensively.
Jon glares at his plate. He sets his sandwich down, suddenly no longer hungry. He takes a deep breath, looks up at Basira, and nods. His fingers itch towards his notebook; he keeps them still.
“Hm.” Basira taps a single finger on the edge of her plate. “That… that makes sense, I guess. What with Annabelle’s whole… thing.”
Jon’s stomach squeezes. Throat tight, he nods again, looking away. His eyes land on Daisy, who’s sitting beside him and watching Basira with something unreadable on her face. Her toastie is sitting on her plate in front of her, completely untouched. Then, stiffly, as if preparing herself for a difficult truth, Daisy says, “I... know a little bit of BSL. Picked it up back when I was still a PC. It’s not much, but… it’s something.”
Basira looks at Daisy, her finger stilling on the side of her plate. When she speaks again, it’s quiet, and she doesn’t sound surprised. “You’re not coming with me, then.”
“Sorry,” Daisy says roughly. “Just… need a bit of time. Soon, I promise, just…”
“… just not now,” Basira finishes. “It’s… all right. I understand. Honestly, with things the way that they are out there right now, it… it might be for the best. Just until things settle down.”
“Yeah.” Daisy picks at the edge of her toastie. “You’ll… be safe, though?”
Basira takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out, her lips settle into a smile, thin and bordering on humorless but still warm in its own way. “Always am.”
Daisy laughs a little, just an exhalation of air through her nose. “Right.”
It becomes clear that none of them plan to eat more, so Martin and Jon clear the plates and stack them in the sink while Daisy and Basira sit at the table. Basira says some things to Daisy in hushed tones, and Daisy responds under her breath, and Jon takes wet dishes from Martin and wipes them down with a towel and stares out the window into the darkened sky and focuses on the sensation of cloth under his fingertips so he doesn’t lose himself in the inky black swirling thoughts that are threatening to drag him down.
“Hey,” Martin says quietly by his side, letting their fingers brush as he hands him another dish. “You all right?”
No is probably the honest answer. Jon is sure that Martin can see it on his face even as he nods and busies himself drying the plate in his hands. To his eternal gratitude, Martin doesn’t push, even as his mouth flattens and he continues scrubbing the dishes in the sink with careful, methodical motions. Jon is sure that, at some point, something will crack and Martin will push. Push until it all breaks and shatters and crumbles into a million tiny, sharp pieces. But for now, Jon dries dishes and scratches his thoughts into the back pages of his notebook where they’ve begun to pile up into messy tangles of words and emotions and focuses on the fact that, when Basira leaves in the morning, Daisy will still be here.
That, for now, he thinks, will have to be enough.
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glacecakes · 4 years
Text
Hellfire, Dark Fire
Rapunzel pardons Varian from his crimes in the eyes of the law, but not the eyes of the people. The people decide to take action.
Alternate title: I roast Varian at 300 degrees for 30 minutes
The google doc for this is titled Toasty Marshmallow lmao I have. so many jokes for this. I dropped my varian in the fire! He's golden brown! I left the oven on! Just gotta flip him over and wait another ten minutes! Chestnuts on an open pyre! The list goes on. Anyway yea I set Varian on fire enjoy
“Varian of Old Corona, you are here on the following charges.”
This was a familiar scenario.
“Theft of Royal property, blackmail, destruction of Royal property, kidnapping, treason…”
Isn’t there some sort of rule about being tried for the same crimes twice? It felt illegal. He looked over to his right, where the princess gave him an awkward smile.
“Escaping prison, sedition, assault, chemical warfare…”
“Ok I’m pretty sure that’s not a crime you can charge me with.”
Nigel raised an eyebrow from his scroll, standing between the thrones that Varian helped bring down. The throne room was a mess, debris and alchemy remnants clinging to every surface, begging to be taken care of. But there were more pressing matters at this exact moment. Like, deciding what to do with the child responsible for all this.
“The point remains,” Nigel said, rolling up his scroll and slamming into the palm of his hand. “You have a lot to make up for, young man. Half of these crimes warrant the death penalty.” Varian winced at that. Right. Last time Arianna had just barely managed to convince the King not to impale his head on a spike, and while neither ruler actually remembered his crimes, he wouldn’t put it past Nigel to carry out the deed in their place.
“Buuuuuut,” Rapunzel butt in, ever the optimist. “You are sorry for what you did, and you helped us stop the Saporians from destroying Corona!” Her smile felt like a blazing sun, warming him to the core with how it shone in his direction. “And I think it’s fair to say the second round of crimes were more by association than actually carrying them out.”
Varian shook his head. “Actually, I uh, I was the one who thought up the escape plan.”
“Varian.”
“Right, sorry, not helping.” He coughed, trying to hide his red face.
“So,” She said, acting as if the interruption never happened. Her footsteps barely made a sound on plush carpet as she padded up to Nigel and plucked the scroll from his hands. It tore with a satisfying chhhhh . “I think we can toss out these charges. Varian, you are officially pardoned of all crimes towards Corona. You’re free to go home.”
He beamed. Home… he hadn’t actually been home since the battle in Old Corona, and even then, it hadn’t felt like home since the blizzard. Home was with his dad and Ruddiger, sitting by the fireplace and reading while dad finished making dinner. After over a year of being without it… going home sounded like a dream come true.
“Your highness!” Nigel gasped, scandalized, snapping Varian out of his trance. “I can’t in good confidence let you do this!” He pointed to Varian. “That boy is a menace we would be better off without!”
Rapunzel’s eyebrows turned up, distress coloring her features. With the king and queen currently out of commission, she was acting regent, and she did not work well with Nigel, not like the way her father did. “Nigel, that’s a bit harsh. And we need him. He’s going to be working in the castle to try and restore my parent’s memories.”
“And the damage to the castle? The people hurt in the mines?” The advisor pressed, and Varian shrunk with every word. Guilt clawed at his insides, dragging him down to the earth as he lowered his head.
Rapunzel winced. “I-I… he can help rebuild…?” She tried weakly. “I’m not sure what you want from me…”
“He wants me to pay, Rapunzel,” Varian whispered. He didn’t blame the man, not at all. When the Saporians had been in charge, he’d made Nigel’s life a living hell, a petty revenge for how Nigel accused him of attacking Rapunzel. It was no shock to him that while Rapunzel may forgive him, not everyone does. But still… it hurt to have someone talk about you like you’re a monster.
After a moment of glancing back and forth between them, Rapunzel sighed. “I guess that’s fair… Varian, maybe you can come back in a few days to help with castle repairs?”
Of course she’d side with him. Of course she’d let the advisor undermine her authority. A familiar anger was quickly building, but he quickly stomped it down. Getting angry sounded exhausting, and it wasn’t an unreasonable request. It was perfectly fine, he should be grateful she wasn’t burning him at the stake. “That sounds great, princess.”
She led him out of the castle, a warm hand in his. He had yet to buy new gloves after she’d accidentally melted the old ones. “I’m sorry,” She said in a rush. “I know you just want to move on, and I want to too, but-”
“It’s ok, Rapunzel, really. It’s the least I can do.” He offered her a half smile. “Maybe then people won’t hate me so much.”
“People don’t hate you!” She shook her head, gripping his hand a little tighter. Perhaps a little too tight, but he wasn’t going to say anything. “I certainly don’t. How could anyone hate you? You’re like an angry kitten.” Her other hand pinched at his cheek. He laughed, high and bright, and it brought a smile to the princess’s face. It was strange how fast they went from despising one another to a comfortable friendship. But he was starved for positive companionship, and something told him she was too. Judging by how she was doing this sort of thing to everyone, it had something to do with Cassandra’s mysterious absence. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. It felt less like an attempt to rush making up, and more like… picking up where they left off before the blizzard.
It definitely helped that the source of their fighting, the amber, had been dealt with.
“People definitely hate me,” he laughed. It died when he saw how distraught Rapunzel appeared.
“But…” she whispered, clenching a fist over her heart. “You nearly died trying to save Corona. Everyone knows that, right? Right,” She smiled weakly. “Yea, no one hates you, Varian. I pro-” Her voice cut off abruptly. “No one hates you. You have nothing to worry about.” She said with an air of finality. This was not up for debate, how could anyone hate him when the people he most affected didn’t?
“Rapunzel…” Varian sighed. He… wanted to dispute it. To say that no, people definitely hate him, that he didn’t want her to brush it off. But the anxiety in her eyes kept him quiet. He’d just been pardoned, after all… “Ok, if you say so,” he wanted to trust her most of all. Maybe she’d protect him. “I’ll see you next week?”
“Sounds good! Get some rest, you earned it.” With a quick hug, they parted ways with a promise the next reunion would be more positive.
How wrong they would be.
-
“Rapunzel?” Varian called, stepping into the grand foyer. A week had passed, granting Varian the most relaxing staycation in his life. It was just him and his dad and Ruddiger, cleaning up the farm after a year of disuse, making up for lost time. It didn’t feel right to be away from his dad after everything; what if something happened while he was gone? What if the rocks reared their ugly head and destroyed what he didn’t deserve? But then Rapunzel had sent him new clothes and he remembered his promise, so here he was.
A soft breeze pushed him forward, citrus and lavender wafting through clean corridors. His head swerved to and fro, taking it all in, until he bumped into a maid. Freshly cleaned clothes spilled from her hands and onto the floor.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” He rushed, leaning down to help pick up the clothes. “I-I can-”
“Save it.” He lifted his head to a furious face staring down at him. The maid placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t want any help from you.”
So she was one of those types. That was to be expected, of course, yet still it stung. Varian gulped, but slowly leaned back so she could collect what she dropped. “If I were you, I’d turn right around and crawl back to your dad.” She hissed, furiously swiping up clothes.
“I’m supposed to help the princess,” He argued.
“You should be dead for your crimes .”
Varian narrowed his eyes. “Is… is that a threat?”
“What are you gonna do about it?” She taunted. If it was, he’d… he’d… no, he wouldn’t do anything to her. A few months ago, he would’ve threatened her right back, or let Andrew and the other Saporians at her, but now he was powerless. Still a part of his mind longed for justice, for her to beg for his forgiveness. Remnant from his villain stint, he figured.
A heavy sigh forced his shoulders to slump. “Nothing,” he grumbled. With a satisfied “hmph!” The maid stalked off, leaving him alone on the floor.
“Varian?”
He blinked up, meeting the concerned eyes of the princess. “Are you ok? What happened?” She offered a hand which he greedily took. Her warmth pressed into his arm, spiralling down into his chest. It takes some effort, but she’s able to lift him off the floor and set him by her side.
“Uh, well…” He gazed down the hall and bit his lip. “Just someone who wasn’t happy with me.”
For a moment, the princess doesn’t understand, a question hanging off her lips. But it clicked fast and she gasped. “Did she hurt you!?” Nimble fingers brush against his cheek, checking it for bruises.
“No! Not yet at least,” he joked, but it didn’t land well, judging by her face. He coughed. “She just said I should be paying for my crimes. You know, standard death threat.”
“No...” Rapunzel’s eyes fell to the floor. Her toes curled as she bounced in place for a moment. “I doubt she meant anything by it. Or rather, I don’t think she’ll follow through.”
In all honesty, he wasn’t so sure about that. The hatred in her eyes, the way she spat at him… But he wanted to trust Rapunzel. She lived in the castle after all, and she likely knew the maids. Surely if one of them were dangerous she’d know… right?
Then again, she hadn’t predicted Cassandra’s betrayal…
“You sure?” He asked.
“Yup!”
His thoughts vanished when the princess’s warm hand near burned, guiding him down sunlit halls with a shaky smile. If she wasn’t too worried, why should he be?
According to Eugene, it was long past sundown when they stopped for the day.
They hadn’t meant to work for so long, but between Rapunzel’s love of painting and Varian’s love of engineering, it was easy to get lost in their project. The hallway they were rebuilding was nearly finished, and honestly looking a lot better than before the damage. Stars already hung in the sky as the alchemist stepped outside. He took a breath of fresh air, before exhaling loudly.
To think he went a year without it.
Corona was oddly quiet, even for this time of night. All the lights were off, not even a candle shone in a single windowsill. Was there a city blackout? Were people mourning? It wasn’t uncommon for blackout nights, in which everyone turned off the lights and went stargazing, but all the lampposts were lit… so was everyone just… not home? Then where were they?
His question was answered as he approached the main square.
The crowd was massive , nearly five dozen in total, full of faces he did and didn’t recognize. Some were carrying candles and torches, others had spears. They all stood in a circle, and in the center was a massive stake, the base of which was shrouded by wood. How odd, maybe there was a festival going on?
He gently tapped someone’s shoulder, and they jumped. “Hi, excuse me,” Varian said. “What’s going on?”
The figure turned around, torch in hand illuminating their face, and Varian paled.
Nigel.
The advisor’s face morphed into a scowl just at the sight of him. “Ah. So the mutt finally appears.” His voice is booming, catching the attention of all in the square.
Varian backed away slightly, confused. “Who, me? What’s going on?” It was a little insulting to be called a mutt , were they referring to how neither of his parents were born in Corona? That was the only explanation Varian could think of, otherwise it was just a dehumanizing insult… oh.
Oh no.
The torches. The angry expressions. The large spike. It all made sense.
He took a shaky step back, eyes darting to and fro as terror clawed at his throat. It climbed up and up, until it spilled out of his mouth. “Rapunzel…” he whispered. “Rapunzel!” His feet scrambled underneath him, dirt flying while boots struggled for purchase.
He’s only able to make it a few meters before an “Oh no you don’t!” rang through the air, and his path is blocked by a mountain of a man. He couldn’t recognize him, or really anyone else in the dim lighting, but as his feet finally gave out under him, adrenaline went into overdrive, allowing him to skid underneath the man’s legs.
He darted into a nearby alleyway, now grateful for the cover of night and his naturally small figure as he ducked behind a can.
Cries of anger and frustration lingered in the air on top of his heavy breathing. “Split up!” “He couldn’t have gone far!” “We’ve been waiting for this!”
Slowly but surely, the voices finally died down, and Varian let out a shaky sob of relief. Only to hear the scuffling of feet, and then he’s face to face with the maid from before.
For a moment, neither spoke.
“Please,” Varian whispered. “Don’t do this.”
Her face twisted into a cruel grin. “I found him!” She yelled, and Varian let out a wail in protest.
He had to get out of here, he had to get to the castle, find Rapunzel! She’d protect him! She couldn’t possibly know about this, right? Surely she had to see all this from her castle and come out to investigate, right?
She didn’t last time, his traitorous mind whispered. She didn’t save you last time.
“Quiet you,” the maid snapped, teeth barred as she snarled down at him. The wolfish grin only grew as she fished something out of her pocket. “You know, I have a dog at home, I’m sure this’ll work on you, too,” her prize glinted in the moonlight; a muzzle.
“Fitting for a beast, hm?” Varian scrambled back, his spine colliding painfully with the alley’s wall. He held up his arms in a brace, trying desperately to keep her away from his face, but soon the woman was joined by her pack. A man yanked on his arm, sending him pitching forward, only for his face to be grabbed, cheeks squished and held firmly in place. Varian screwed his eyes shut, flailing wildly, but it was no use. With one hand held captive and his center of balance askew, he could only whimper as the muzzle was strapped into place.
No, no no! This couldn’t be happening! Rapunzel said she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him! He flinched, trying in vain to squirm away from the multiple hands moving him, but it was for naught. The hand on his arm was stronger than steel, no matter what Varian did, it wouldn’t budge. The streets were filled with jeers and taunts, screams of anger and hatred. People yanked him around, jolting him with each stumble.
“MONSTER!”
“This is what you get!”
“My father nearly died for you!”
“To hell where he belongs!”
A heavy object slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. He sobbed, curling up into a ball to shield himself, the sounds overwhelming and all encompassing.
Suddenly, sharp nails dug into his scalp. They tugged, forcing his head up until he met the eyes of an infuriated Nigel. “Get up, dog,” he snarled, yanking on raven hair so hard fistfuls came tumbling out when he let go. Varian shrieked behind the muzzle, tears spilling over as the pushing and pulling resumed anew, currents of writhing bodies washing him towards the pyre. He grasped the muzzle, fingers dipping into the spaces between bars in an attempt to pry it off, but with only one hand it was easier said than done.
The towering pyre loomed over him, obscuring the moon from view and obscuring Nigel’s face as he stood on the platform. “Varian of Old Corona, you are here on the following charges!”
No. God please, no.
“Theft of Royal property, blackmail, destruction of Royal property, kidnapping, treason…”
He thrashed violently, kicking the man holding him in place over and over, but the man simply hissed and gripped tighter and tighter until the circulation was cut off in that arm.
“Escaping prison, sedition, assault, chemical warfare… and the murder of Quirin of Old Corona.” Varian’s blood ran cold, freezing him in place for a moment. But a moment was all that was needed. His legs fumbled underneath him as the man dragged him up to the pyre. He threw Varian at it, twisting his arm so it was now behind his back. The maid from before grabbed his other arm, pulling it behind along with a rope.
“The sentence is death.” The advisor’s voice cut through him. “You will be burned at the stake until you are dead.”
“Please,” he begged, muffled through the muzzle. “Don’t do this.” He’d paid for his crimes! He spent a year in prison, abused by guards and cellmates alike, groomed into a conspiracy he never wanted any part in, and indoctrinated into a cult that threatened death if you left. Hadn’t he paid enough? Hadn’t he suffered enough?
It's not enough until you endure the same amount of pain and agony I have!
Nigel dropped his torch into the kindling. It lit immediately.
First, Varian smelled it. Cedar and pine wafted into his nose, normally reserved for his home, curled up by his dad as they recounted the events of the day, or, on rare nights, stories about his mother.
Then he heard it. The crackling of logs, the cries of the people slowly drowned out by the roar at his feet. Once his lullaby, or his savior during the worst blizzard of the century, now his undoing, its thunder akin to horse hoofbeats, an army coming to kill him for kidnapping the queen.
Next: heat, oppressive, choking, overwhelming. It caused his eyes to water, only for flames to lick his tears away. They evaporated, steam joining the smoke that rose to the sky, a beacon of his suffering.
Finally, as the fire reaches his feet, pain. He clenched his teeth and turned to the sky, attempting to somehow escape, but the ropes on his wrists kept him grounded. Hopefully they’ll burn before he does, and he could escape…
The pain built, travelling up his legs and climbing higher and higher, until the flames had engulfed him entirely. His tongue was coated in ash, coughing turning to screaming in mere seconds.
“DADDY! PUNZEL! HELP ME!” He shrieked, likely music to the mob’s ears. The smoke entered his open mouth, suffocating him. His lungs were probably turning black, he thought morbidly, wheezing for breath in an attempt to lessen the pain, but with each inhale his vision swam more and more. Black and red were all he could see, no doubt a sign of what was to come when he went to hell…
Yellow…
Yellow interspersed with the red and black, and then suddenly there’s more, and more, until it shone like the sun, completely surrounding him.
It was the last thing he saw before he slumped over.
-
Rapunzel heard it before she saw it.
After bidding Eugene goodnight, she’d begun the nightly routine of brushing out her hair. It took a lot longer without Cass to help, so she spent the hour or so staring out her window. Planning, thinking, watching. Normally she hummed to herself during the process, but not tonight. Tonight, she was deep in thought about a certain alchemist.
He’d been a massive help that day, and even fun to be around. Not that he wasn’t normally fun! Well, when he wasn’t a villain. Which he wasn’t anymore! It was strange to consider him a dear friend, yet it felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. If Varian could be brought back, so could Cass, after all.
Sounds and screams from Corona shocked her back into reality.
It sounded like a large group of people, rather than just one in danger, she noted, eyes scanning the island. Like a moth to a flame, her eyes were pulled to the source fairly quickly. There, in the town square, a bright light. Rapunzel squinted, unable to make out the source at first, but the longer she looked, the more her eyes adjusted, it looked like… a bonfire?
“Wonder what they’re burning,” She mused, holding out her hand as Pascal tossed over her telescope. She peered in, focusing on the center of the fire. Maybe they were cooking? A block party? It made no sense…
The telescope came into focus. And in the center was a young human.
“Is that…”
A spark of blue.
“ VARIAN !”
There was no time to leave the castle properly. Golden hair fell down the tower’s wall, bringing its owner close in a ball for the landing. She didn’t stop to catch her breath, instead barrelling down cobbled roads, following the trail of smoke. Each puff of breath she took was one Varian was without, and it spurred her to run faster.
She thundered into the courtyard with all the fury of a thousand suns, burning just as bright, if not brighter than the crime in front of her. It only intensified when she saw her advisor watching on with a content smile.
“NIGEL!”
The way his smile immediately faded delighted her.
“P-princess…!” He held up his arms placatingly, stepping in front of her as if to hide the pyre currently lighting her friend on fire. “I can explain…!”
“Later,” she growled, pushing him aside. The heat curled her toes, forming a wall normally impenetrable. But she had unbreakable hair, hair that once failed to help Varian, but wouldn’t fail again.
Rapunzel leaped into the fire, hair curling up underneath her feet and preventing burns. Through the smoke and sun, Varian’s slumped form was barely visible. His eyes fluttered weakly, cheeks coated in soot that fell off with each cough.
“Oh Varian…” She breathed, reaching out to grasp at his face, ignoring the pain in her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Golden hair glowed brighter, balling closer and closer as she approached the pyre until it squeezed .
The ball parted to reveal Rapunzel hugging Varian tight. She pulled back, taking in his sorry state, and gasped in horror.
Through shakes her hands made quick work of the ropes, before grasping the muzzle that had burned a mark where it had been pressed. She ripped it off in one, anger-fueled tug. A silent Varian fell into her arms, and she readjusted until he laid against her chest.
The crowd fell silent. In their eyes, their princess, the knight in shining armor, had been the one to defeat the monster once. It was their job to finish it off once and for all, and keep their world safe.
But to her, as she readjusted a small boy in her arms, his breaths weak against her neck, she just saw a sea of monsters.
Like a bolt from the blue, quick as she arrived, the princess vanished, hair trailing behind her as she ran.
-
For Varian, days blurred together, swimming together in a sea of haze of time and random moments.
Blink, an unfamiliar man was rubbing salve over his arm. Blink, Eugene regarded him with sorrowful eyes as he read a book. Blink, Dad yelled at Rapunzel, the words too fuzzy to make out.
Blink. He was alone.
Sun filtered through the window and bathed the world in golden orange as dusk approached once more.
He couldn’t find the strength to do much else besides stare up at the ceiling and take inventory of his body.
Clink, clink, a soft bell chimed, and he rolled his head to see where it was coming from: Rapunzel was carrying a tray of food into the room with a crestfallen expression. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him awake.
“Varian!” She gasped, nearly dropping the tray as she rushed to his bedside. “You’re awake!”
“Uh… yea…?” He mumbled, confused. “Did I fall asleep while we were working?”
Her face fell.
“Or… oh no, did I hit my head? God, I must’ve seen blood and passed out, or something stupid…” He laughed awkwardly, but each idea only deepened the frown on her face. Her lip wobbled, and suddenly Varian found himself drowning in blonde hair as Rapunzel launched herself at him.
“I’m so so so so sorry!” She sobbed, form shaking. “I should’ve done something about that threat! I should’ve trusted you when you said people hated you! I should’ve… should’ve…” Words trailed off into sobs and she burrowed deeper in his hair.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok…?” Varian mumbled, bringing up his arms to hug her back, maybe stroke her hair… but…
Only one hand responded.
He pulled back to stare at his hands.
Hand.
Hand.
One of his hands was gone, replaced by a stump.
Fire, fire everywhere, pain and agony and the jeers of others...
When did breathing become so hard?
His uninjured hand gripped his hair and he choked, tears streaming down his face. “I… Rapunzel… He… they… I…”
“It’s ok,” she whispered, wiping away tears of her own. “Let it out. I’m so sorry.”
He threw himself into her lap, shuddering sobs of his own. He almost died. Maybe he did die. He’s missing a hand! He needed those! How was he supposed to do alchemy without it? By some small mercy it was his non dominant hand, but the point remained.
For what seemed like hours he poured his soul into Rapunzel’s lap. The only sounds were his hacked sobs and her soft humming.
Finally, when there were no more tears to cry, he mumbled, “It’s not your fault.” Because it wasn’t. Even if she had taken the threat seriously, what would’ve come from it? Firing the maid? Maybe? It certainly wouldn’t have stopped the angry mob. They had been planning this, no doubt with help from Nigel, the bastard.
“You don't need to comfort me right now. Still,” she hummed. “If you want... If you make a blueprint... we'll pay for you to get a prosthetic. It's the least I can do. Your dad and mine are talking about what to do with Nigel. He’ll be taking you home in a bit, when you’re fully recovered.”
Home sounded nice…
But when he looked up, and he saw his savior, the woman who was wronged by him so, and yet saved his life twice over now…
“I think I’m home right now.”
Her smile was like fresh rain after a forest fire.
47 notes · View notes
jcmorrigan · 4 years
Note
more Blakeworther headcanons!! i want you to go ham with em too!! :D
Go ham, huh? So...I probably went the opposite direction of what you wanted or expected. But I just read “Our Coffin Is a Twin-Sized Bed” (Blakeworth fic, REALLY ANGSTY) and I loved it but it also made me very depressed. Anyway, it put the idea of CHARACTER DEATH in my head, and so I’m like...what if you took Vincent, Victor, and Albert, and you have an AU where each one of them dies, and how would the other two react?
Except I want to have my cake and eat it too. That prompt on its own is a bit...disheartening. So I had to treat myself by saying that each time, the death was actually a fakeout, and whoever “died” turns up just fine later. Which made for extra reunion headcanons!
Get ready for: the one where each one of them “dies” and the other two grieve in their own special way, only for the “dead” to have been fine the whole time
VINCENT
·      They were setting up bombs in a facility owned by Myers, hoping to bring down one of the bigwigs – possibly Monseiur M himself – in the explosion. Albert and Victor finished their rounds, then came back outside to wait for Vincent. Vincent radioed that he was almost finished – and then the whole building went up in smoke.
·      It took Victor and Albert a few minutes to process what had happened. He…he had to have gotten out, right? There’s no way Vincent would die on this mission.
·      But he doesn’t show up.
·      Watching the conflagration, agape and wide-eyed, Victor and Albert reach out to draw each other closer, hoping it just isn’t what it looks like.
·      Eventually, there are sirens, and they have to escape back to the mansion.
·      Albert finds the nearest piece of furniture he can sit on, sinks down, and starts sobbing. It doesn’t help that this is HIS house they’re living in, this is HIS chair Albert’s crying on, and he’s not even here.
·      I’m not actually sure if Victor’s eyes have tear ducts, but he is similarly distraught. He sits down beside Albert, trying to reassure him, “We’ll be okay. He’d want us to keep going. We’ll…we’ll be fine…”
·      His voice cracks. He can’t deal with this. Now he’s holding onto Albert not only for the sake of comforting him but of getting comforted.
·      They rattle around Vincent’s house for the next few days, utterly depressed. Everywhere they go, every corner they turn, they’re reminded of the spaces where he’s not.
·      Albert is caught talking to himself – and berating himself in a bad imitation of Vincent in order to simulate their arguments. Victor can only listen for so long before he’s too emotional and has to leave.
·      “You promised me you wouldn’t do this,” Victor says as he kneads a bedsheet between his fingers.
·      Eventually, the two of them hold a small service. They construct Vincent a grave out back in the yard. Each says a few words –
·      Victor: “I still don’t regret it. Not a day.”
·      Albert: “If you think I wanted to win our rivalry this way…you were wrong. I’d give anything to have you back.”
·      When behind them they suddenly hear “If I’d’ve known you two would get this morose, I wouldn’t have bothered to plant those explosives in the first place.”
·      They turn around, and…he’s here. Vincent’s here, looking quite grumpy.
·      “I thought it would be fairly obvious that I wasn’t dead. You two really went all out on this?”
·      Albert: “You’re not an exact replica with Vincent’s memories, are you? Actually, I have no problem if you’re an exact replica with Vincent’s memories.”
·      Victor and Albert run to him, embrace him tightly. Vincent’s rolling his eyes because these idiots got themselves worked up for nothing – but he’s lying if he says he isn’t really, really touched by how much they missed him. He’ll have to be careful not to make them worry in the future.
 VICTOR
·      Assassins have the mansion surrounded. Victor urges Albert and Vincent to go on ahead without him. He’ll catch up. But first he has to buy them time.
·      Albert and Vincent head to a motel three towns over – only to hear that the mansion was cleared out, then raided by authorities, and after the cyborgs were put down, no living people remained in the house.
·      “No,” Vincent says. “He’s fine. He’s FINE.” And he won’t hear otherwise.
·      Not even after a week.
·      Albert is starting to grieve, but Vincent keeps yelling at him, “STOP! HE ISN’T GONE! YOU’RE BEING AN IDIOT!”
·      Vincent is angrier than Albert has ever seen him in his whole life. The more days go by that Victor hasn’t turned up, the edgier Vincent’s mood gets.
·      Albert has to lock himself in the bathroom if he wants to cry it out.
·      But he also knows enough about psychology that he knows Vincent has to be dying inside. “Vincent, you need to talk about what happened.”
·      “You’re not even a real psychologist. Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
·      At one point, it gets so bad that Vincent locks Albert out of the motel room and refuses to let him in, no matter how much noise he makes.
·      That’s when the notes start showing up. The door’s definitely locked, but Vincent finds notes around the motel room that definitely weren’t there a moment ago.
·      “I love you. ~AK” “I’m worried about you! ~AK” “Vincent, talk to me. ~AK” “I know many fates worse than death. Do you want to push me that far? ~AK” “Please, Vincent, I need you. ~AK” “Fine. Die alone. ~AK” “I take back my last note. Don’t die alone. I love you. ~AK”
·      So eventually Vincent lets him back in, and Albert suggests, one final time, to have Vincent sit through a legitimate therapy session. No Dream Eaters, no tricks, no shell game. And Vincent agrees.
·      Vincent lies down on the bed. Albert sits on a chair beside him and starts asking questions – about Victor, about the memories they had, about what Victor means to them both.
·      Vincent slowly recalls their entire history – laughing, crying, smiling. And by the end of it, he’s outright sobbing.
·      “How can someone who was such a big part of our lives be gone, Albert?”
·      And in a historical first, Albert actually lies down on the bed to cuddle Vincent, stroke his hair, and tell him “I miss him too. So much. It’s okay. Just cry.”
·      Eventually, they get a message from Winston, saying he has some important information and “cargo” to trade to them if they meet at a rendez-vous point. So they agree. Albert and Vincent head to the alley around midnight to find Winston and…a man in a black hood.
·      He throws back the hood. It’s Victor, whose metal eyes are twinkling. “Miss me?”
·      All of Vincent’s psychological work is undone; he just says “I knew you weren’t dead.” Albert, on the other hand, TACKLES Victor at unprecedented speed and pins him to the street.
·      Once Albert lets him go, Victor goes up to Vincent, and the two of them hold each other’s gaze. They kiss, briefly. That’s all they need to put closure on this.
 ALBERT
·      He doesn’t come home from a walk one night. Instead, a Dream Eater shows up and hands Vincent and Victor a letter.
·      “My beloved Victor and my frustratingly wonderful Vincent, if you are receiving this letter, it means you are not likely to see me again in this lifetime. I have run afoul of enemy forces, and, well, I’ll finally get to see what murder looks like from the other side. I want to thank you for the laughter and tears you both have given me, and for the good times and the bad. I hope you’ll remember me fondly, or at least as a memorable nuisance. With all of my love, goodbye. -Dr. Albert Gerald Krueger”
·      This is a joke, right? Victor’s convinced it’s a joke, and Vincent insists this is exactly the kind of prank Albert would find funny…
·      Until a month passes and he hasn’t come back.
·      Vincent takes a stance: “We never needed him. It was always just you and me from the start, Victor. We can return to our roots. He was always just an extra.”
·      Victor: “I know you don’t want to admit you miss him, but that was heartless, Vincent.”
·      The two of them end up fighting, sleeping on opposite sides of the mansion for days.
·      Victor tries to drink the pain away. (It happens in all three of these scenarios, actually, but this one’s plot-relevant)
·      One night, he wakes up at three and decides he’s not drunk enough. So he shuffles down to the bar and…there’s Vincent? Already drinking?
·      Victor decides to bite; “What’s all this for?”
·      Vincent turns to Victor, and Victor can now see he’s been crying for a while. “I can’t keep this up much longer, Victor. The two of us were happy before he broke in…why can’t I be happy? Why do I still miss him so much? Why can’t I just function?”
·      Ah. Now Victor knows it is definitely about Vincent not wanting to admit he misses Albert or even liked him. Because here’s Vincent just distraught without Albert.
·      Victor sits down by Vincent. Pours himself a drink. “We can’t erase him, but we can dull the memories for a night.”
·      It’s a miracle they don’t die of alcohol poisoning that night. They toast Albert’s memory, and at one point, Victor, a little out of his mind already, just poured a whole bottle of brandy on the floor in his honor.
·      Then, a couple days later, they’re trying to figure out how they’re going to break this to Taylor. They’ve avoided Taylor for so long so they didn’t have to bring this up.
·      There’s a knock on the door. Vincent gets up with trepidation, gun in hand because he’s not sure who it’ll be. Victor follows, ready to throw down.
·      The door swings open…
·      Albert: “I apologize. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” And he’s smiling like he’s just a couple hours late, not a whole month and change in which the other two thought he was dead. “What did I miss?”
·      There’s a silence as Victor and Vincent gape. Then Victor breaks into a wide smile; “Alb – “
·      Vincent DECKS ALBERT IN THE FACE.
·      Albert, on the ground, says “I deserved that.”
·      Vincent: “How could you do that to me? How could you tear me apart? How could you make me so empty inside over someone like YOU? How could you make it hurt so badly to love you?”
·      He’s getting rather emotional, a tear or two falling, and Albert realizes that Vincent actually…missed him. And the immense potential for blackmail this will bring.
·      Victor steps forward to help him up off the ground. Pulls Albert into a too-tight hug in the process. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
·      Then they head inside because Albert kinda needs an ice pack for the eye Vincent hit now.
33 notes · View notes
wtnrscap · 4 years
Text
Never Enough
Pairings- Steve Rogers x Reader, slight Bucky Barnes x Reader towards the end, platonic Tony Stark x Reader, platonic Natasha Romanoff x Reader.
Summary-  Steve Rogers has been forced to adjust to 21st-century life. Y/N has been by his side every step of the way. But in recent weeks, it feels as though she’s living in the shadow of a certain British Agent. She realises she’s fighting a losing battle. A choice will have to be made. But it isn’t up to her. It has, and always will be, the Captain’s choice.
Warnings- Winter Soldier, Civil War, Infinity War, Endgame references. Mentions of previous sexy times, brief smut and fluff. Swearing and angst. 
A/N- Italics are the past. Bold is lyrics. Inspired by ‘Never Enough’ by Loren Allred from The Greatest Showman. I’ve always wondered how a lover of Steve would deal with him still being in love with Peggy, how that would affect their relationship and what would happen to them in Endgame. I wanna explore that, so feeling like this is gonna be quite long. I won’t even hint at the ending.
I am gonna say that while writing this, I am crying. Like, ugly crying. Steve and Bucky’s goodbye is so freaking emotional. Okay, I’m okay. Enjoy!
Word Count- 3.2K
Masterlist
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The sunlight filtered through the silent room, highlighting her tears. Today was the day. Today was the day that Steve Rogers had to make the biggest choice of his life.
-
“Steve!”
The scream echoed around the battleground and the blonde turned his head, unclipping his helmet, his heart pounding painfully. 
A woman stood a few metres away, her face dirted, her Y/E/C eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
For a few moments, the pair stared at each other. Steve’s helmet clattered to the ground and she was running, her hair flying out behind her before she jumped, her legs wrapping around his waist, his hands in her hair and their lips joined in a passionate embrace. When she finally pulled back, she giggled, allowing herself to get lost in his blue eyes. Steve nuzzled into her neck, panting slightly, “You’re okay... You’re back... We’re okay... We’re going to be okay...”
-
Y/N wiped the tears and took a deep, shaky breath. Since their reunion, Steve had told her absolutely everything. 
The aftermath of the snap, Thanos destroying the stones, Thor killing Thanos, 5 years, Scott’s return, time travel, time heist, the new snap and, finally, the moments leading up to the final battle.
She’d figured it out in seconds. He didn’t need to say it. 
Y/N sighed, standing and walking over to the window where she could see Steve talking to Bruce as they set up the time machine. In the morning light, Steve looked beautiful, his blond hair smoothed over and a mug between his lips. Y/N wondered if he’d always been this beautiful...
-
“Captain Rogers? Are you here?” Y/N dropped her keys into the bowl by Steve’s front door and walked into the living room to a strange sight. Pillows and duvets were bunched in a mess on the floor and the mound was moving slightly. Y/N moved forwards slowly, “Captain Rogers...?”
“How many more times? Call me Steve!” Steve’s head popped up through the blankets, his blonde hair messed up and blue eyes wide with mock anger. She almost had to coo at cute he looked.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Steve stood up and brushed off his trousers, “I found a list that had 100 things you have to do before you get too old and I’m working my way through it. Pillow fort was one of them.”
“I hate to break it to you Captain, but I think you’re a bit too old...” Y/N giggled. Steve pouted, “What will it take for you to call me Steve? Now help me! I feel like you’re better at this than me!”
“As your tutor, trying to get you to experience things you’ve missed out on, I will help you. Not because I’m a big kid,” she shrugged out of coat and picked up some pillows. Steve frowns, “It’s not that I’ve never made a pillow fort... It’s just I can’t remember how to. And need new memories, I’ve decided, fresh, happy memories.”
“Well, Steve, I’ll be perfectly happy to help you make new memories.”
Steve blushed slightly as he realised she hadn’t called him Captain and picked up a pillow, “Pillow fight!”
-
Y/N felt a hand rest on her shoulder and jumped when she saw Bucky standing behind her, “Are you okay?”
She nodded her head, “Yeah, I think so... Do you know?”
“Do I know what?”
“What Steve’s planning. As his best friend, have you figured it out?”
Bucky brushed a strand of hair out of his face and refused to look at her in the eyes, “I... I have an inkling of what he’s about to do...”
Y/N sighed and turned away from the window, another tear trickling down her face, “I was never enough...”
“What?”
“You know, it was you who brought us together. I’d been helping Steve to fit into the 21st century and I liked him, but on Nick Fury’s orders, I couldn’t... be with him. That day, back in 2014, when you saved his life... I realised I couldn’t lose him without him knowing how I felt...”
Bucky smiled weakly, “Glad to be of assistance, doll.”
-
“Is he okay?” Y/N pushed past Sam, forcing her way into Steve’s hospital room to see his smirking face. Without thinking, she dived onto him, making him gasp in pain, “Careful, careful! Y/N it’s good to see you too!”
A punch to his arm made him gasp again, “What was that for?”
“You’re an idiot Steve Rogers. When I saw you fall... My heart was in my mouth, I was so scared!”
“I’m sorry for scaring you... But I’m okay... I promise...”
“How did you survive? You should have drowned!”
“I don’t know... Steve suddenly looked thoughtful and Y/N grabbed his wrist tightly forcing him to look her eyes, “What?”
“Fuck Nick Fury and his stupid rules!” Y/N pressed her lips to Steve’s and his eyes widened before he kissed her back. When he pulled back, he was blushing, “What was that?”
“You almost died Steve! I can’t lose you... I just can’t... I love you...”
Steve flushes, “I love you too... I can’t believe that I’m asking you after everything we’ve... Be mine!”
“Yes, Steve! Thousand times yes!”
-
The air by lake seems clearer, and Y/N takes a deep breath, savouring her last sane moments. She knows she should spend them with him, but right now she can’t even look at him without a dull pain shooting through her heart. The last 24 hours have helped her to see every beautiful second with Steve, but at the same time, she has seen every flaw and every fight.
-
Steve gasped, rolling of Y/N and wiping a sheen of sweat of his forehead, “That was... amazing!”
Y/N nodded her head and pulled the duvet up to her chin, “It was certainly something else.”
Steve turned his head, his brows furrowing, “It wasn’t good for you? I love you, I tried to show you how much I-”
“Best sex I’ve ever had, Stevie...” she interrupted, standing up. Steve grabs her wrist, “Where are you going?”
“I’ve worked up an appetite after that.”
(20 minutes later)
Natasha sipped at her coffee, “Clearly Steve can please you. Has he got the golden dick?”
Y/N laughed bitterly, “Gave me an orgasm and that’s all I can say about it.”
“That bad?”
Unshed tears fill Y/N’s eyes and Natasha frowned, wrapping her arms around her, “What’s wrong? Tell me.”
“I love him, Tasha, so much, so goddamn much but I’m not enough! These hands could hold the world and it’ll never be enough!”
“What do you mean?”
“As he finished inside me, he called me Peggy! Every time we’re alone, he talks about how amazing Peggy is, how much he loved her, how much he misses her. I can’t compete!” she wept and Natasha’s gripped tightened on Y/N’s shoulder. Standing quickly, Natasha left the room, her eyes narrowed in a death stare.
-
Y/N almost had to laugh at how wrong things went after that. She had supported him at Peggy’s funeral, and then fought with him in Germany. Things came to a head in the Quinjet, on the way to Siberia.
-
“I KNOW YOU’RE STRUGGLING STEVE, I KNOW IT’S HARD FOR YOU BUT LOOK AT ME! I’M IN FRONT OF YOU! I’M RIGHT HERE! PEGGY’S DEAD! SHE’S GONE!” Y/N screamed, her emotions getting the better of her. The Quinjet was on autopilot and Bucky was trying his best to pretend he couldn’t hear the argument.
“SHE WAS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, Y/N! YOU NEED TO RESPECT THAT!” Steve yelled back. Y/N rolled her eyes, “I HAVE RESPECTED THAT SINCE YOU WERE PULLED OUT OF THE ICE! BUT I AM YOUR GIRLFRIEND! OR AM I JUST A TOY, ON THE SIDE TILL YOU FIND A WAY BACK TO HER?”
“I-”
“I don’t wanna break up with you Stevie...” Y/N lowered her voice, “And I don’t think you wanna break up with me. This stuff with Bucky is important, and with you fighting Tony, we’re going to need each other more than ever. What’s happening now, with the Avengers, is the end. This is the end of the Avengers.”
Steve paled and pulled Y/N close, kissing her temple, “I’m sorry.”
“Me too...”
-
“It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. He was and always has been blinded. I wanted to slap him sometimes...”
Y/N turns her head and sees Tony and Natasha, staring back her. They look younger and happier. Natasha reaches out her hand and Y/N tries to take it, but her hand goes through Natasha’s. Tears spill down her cheeks, “I need you, Tasha. I need you, Tony... I can’t do this on my own.”
“You don’t really have a choice in the matter. We’re gone, dead, and soon... Capiscle will be too,” Tony responds with a sad smile, “But we’re here to tell you that we may be gone... but we’re in your heart. You are not alone.”
“I am so alone...”
“No. You were not alone on Titan, I was with you, and I was with you when you came back...” Tony took a step forward. Natasha scrunched up her eyes, “I’ve been with you since 2012. I have given you advice, gossiped with you and now I’m here, reminding you that I’m not gone...”
“Thank you, both of you... Tasha, for being the best friend any girl could ask for, and Tony for always looking out for me. I was so scared on Titan. Natasha, I wished we could have said goodbye to each other...”
“This is goodbye.”
“Tony... “
“I heard you... as I was dying... I heard your words. I died unafraid.”
Tony and Natasha take a step back, “Don’t forget us, Y/N. We love you...”
“I love you too. I love you so much...”
-
“Tony...? Tony, what’s happening?” Y/N stumbled into Tony’s arm as the man weeps for Peter. He caught her and she fell to the ground, her mouth whispering, “Tell Steve... Tell him I’m sorry... He’ll understand...”
“Where is he? Why weren’t you with him?” asked Tony desperately. Tears filled Y/N’s beautiful eyes, “We argued... We were on a break... I can’t tell you where he is because I don’t know. The last time I saw him... I tried to get away, so far away and ended up in New York... I’m scared Tony...”
“I know... I’m right here... don’t let go of my hand...”
“Why did you forgive me? For what happened in Germany?”
“Thanos is a too bigger threat for silly fights.”
“They were your parents...” Y/N’s eyes began to dull, her skin flaking away. Tony gulped, “They’re were my past, you are my future...”
“Not much future here... Tell... Tell Steve... Tell Steve I love him...” Y/N turned her head to the side, her skin disappearing, gone from Tony’s hands as he whispered, “He knows...”
(1 Month Later)
“Tony... I need you to focus...” Steve addressed Tony carefully. Tony snapped his head around to look at Steve, “And I needed you, as in past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy! You know what I need?”
Tony turned around to face everybody, “I need a shave and a burger, not a bowl of soup. And I believe I remember telling all of you, alive and otherwise, that we needed a suit of armour around the world, whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-”
“But that didn’t work out, did it?!” snapped Steve angrily. Tony jabbed a finger in Steve’s chest, “I said we’d lose, you said we’d ‘do that together, too.’ Guess what, Cap, we lost, and you weren’t there. But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We’re the ‘Avengers’, not the ‘Pre-vengers’-”
“Take it easy, Tony...” Rhodey muttered. Tony ignored him, “I’ve got nothing for ya, Cap. No coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero, zip, nada. No trust,” Tony ripped the RT from his chest and pushed it into Steve’s hand, “Here. Take this. You find him, you put this on, and hide...”
Weakly, Tony dropped to his knees, “I’m fine! Cap... When I say I have nothing, I mean it... You haven’t even asked about her and you know I was with her. She was right about you. You don’t love her in the way she loves you. She was never enough for you.”
Steve’s hands slipped and he stared at Tony hard, “Don’t talk to me like you understand what was going on.”
“She told me everything. As she dusted away, she said you were taking a break. I know she always felt like she was living in Peggy’s shadow. And she was right. Wanna know her last words?”
Steve was walking away but stopped in his tracks. Tony smirked, “I thought so. Her last words were this, exactly, ‘Tell Steve I love him’. I said he knows. But I don’t think you do.”
Steve stormed out of the room, the distant sound of smashing floating into the room.
-
“Y/N? It’s time...” Bucky’s voice sounded in her ear and a wave of nausea swept over her.
The time machine had been set up and Steve was talking to Bruce. Sam approached Steve, “You look a little nervous going by yourself. Ask nicely, I’ll go with you.”
“You’re a good man, Sam. But this one’s on me.”
With a small nod, Bucky leaves Y/N’s side and smiles sadly at Steve. Steve doesn’t break eye contact with him, “Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back, okay?”
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you...” mutters Bucky. Steve grins and Bucky pulls him into a long, sorrowful hug, “Gonna miss you, buddy...”
“It’s going to be okay, Bucky...” replies Steve, trying to sound confident. 
Y/N’s eyes hadn’t left the ground. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t-
“Y/N? Look at me, please. I don’t wanna leave like this.”
She didn’t look at him, “You should just go. Make it easier for both of us. I know your choice and I know what you’ve chosen.”
Steve shakes his head and places his finger under her chin, forcing her to look up, “You don’t know because I don’t know. I still haven’t made my mind up.”
“Yes, you have.”
“Last night-”
“Last night was the worst sex we’ve ever had. I’m telling you, Steve Rogers, you’ve made your mind up. And as much as I hate it, you deserve to be with someone who can make you happy. That person is not me.”
A hand cups her cheek, “You’ve made me so happy. You’ve spent 10 years thinking you weren’t enough, and you were. You were more than enough. You were too much for me. I didn’t deserve you.”
“Steve, please... Please... Just go...” begs Y/N, her eyes watering again. Steve leans forward, pressing a bittersweet kiss to her mouth. It’s hot and cold, black and white. It’s goodbye.
When she pulls away, Steve’s heart breaks a little more. It’s goodbye.
Sam turns to Bruce, “How long’s this gonna take?”
“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds. Ready, Cap? You’re good to go. Meet you right back here, okay?”
You bet!” Steve calls back, glancing at Bucky, then at Y/N, who’s walking away. Steve’s heart breaks a little more and looks at Bucky again, mouthing, “Look after her...”
Bucky nods his head.
“Going Quantum in three, two, one.”
Steve disappears and Bruce’s voice rings out to where Y/N is now standing stock still, “Aaand, returning in five... four... three... two... one-”
Silence. Nothing happens.
Y/N pales as panic erupts.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know! He blew past our timestamp. He should be here.”
“Get him back!”
“I’m trying!”
“GET HIM THE HELL BACK-”
“I’M TRYING!!”
Y/N’s knees buckle and she lands in the mud, crawling into a fetal position as the truth hits her. Bucky’s voice calls out, “Y/N!”
He’s with her seconds as she cries into the ground, his arms around her tightly as he picks her up bridal style. She wriggles into her chest as Sam’s hushed voice echoes around the lake, “What the hell?”
Both Bucky and Y/N look up to see Sam holding Steve’s shield, “It was just left here. With this note.”
“Read it!” cries Bucky. Sam gulps, “’ Sam. Right now, you’re probably feeling a little confused. I knew I had a choice when I went back. I could stay in the past with Peggy or come back. If I stayed with Peggy, there’d be no Captain America in the future. So this is for you. A brilliant man once told me that I must remain a good man and not a perfect soldier. You are a good man. I know you will always try your best, which is why it’s going to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to give you it in person, but I still have important choices to make. I wish you, and Bucky, and Y/N the very best. And who knows, maybe one day, we will meet again. Because it’s been a long, long time.’“
Sam looks up in awe and Bucky smiles, “Good on you Birdbrain. Now I have to help Y/N clean up.”
Sam nods his head as Bucky walks away, Y/N in his arms. He knows the world is changing, and with Steve gone, it’s up to him, and Sam, and Y/N. The world still needs protecting. But first, they have to heal. They have to rest. 
-
I wanted to leave this ending open to specualtion as to what Steve does. However, I have written an ending for those who want some closure.
- Bonus Scene - 
He peers out from behind the trees and watches as Bucky carries Y/N away. He doesn’t know why he didn’t reveal himself but he knows he’s made the right decision with Sam. He thinks he made the right choice coming back. 
One look at Peggy and Steve realises he made a massive mistake. All those years making Y/N feel worthless because he was still in love with Peggy and now he doesn’t want her. He just wants Y/N.
He’d written the note before he left the 40s and then accidentally blew past the time stamp. To top things off, he missed the landing point. Fallen into some mud behind a tree and barely had time to dump the shield and note in a place where Sam would find it.
When he saw Y/N on the floor, seemingly having a panic attack, his heart had shattered. He’d almost ran out to her, but Bucky got there first. Then he felt rooted to the spot. What if Bucky could offer more than he could? What if Bucky was better than him? 
He’d spent years making Y/N feel like she was never enough and now fear crept in. What if she didn’t want him?
Steve realised he had to hide, and see if Y/N liked Bucky better. If she did... 
He’d leave. Not to the past, or the future. But somewhere desolate. Somewhere quiet and alone.
Alone. 
Y/N had always said she was born alone and she’d die alone. 
But she was never alone.
Steve had been born with someone and had always assumed he die with someone. 
For the first time ever, he was alone. He had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
For the first time ever, Steve was genuinely terrified.
He had nowhere to go.
Tony was right. They’d lost. He’d lost. And he’d had to lose it on his own.
146 notes · View notes
threehousesaddict · 4 years
Text
Blue Lion Boys Tea Headcanon pt.2
Anonymous asked:
“ Ooooo I’d love to see the “Lavender Blend” one! “
ooo the angsty prompt... is it okay if I write these like they thought they were dead this whole time... imma do it. Let me know if you want anyone other than the blue lion boys!! Here’s the link to the prompt list !! This is a continuation from my x reader head canons btw
no specific spoilers but fair warning!!
Lavender Blend
- What would the reunion after 5 years be like with them?
Dedue ~
man is at a lack of words, like normal, but the tension is different between the two of you
Dedue always thought he was used to losing the people around him but that was still not the case
after losing you, all of those old wounds opened up and left him feeling completely vulnerable but after realizing he could feel that immense pain again, he put up a wall between him and the world, more than ever
seeing you again was so overwhelming he was brought to his knees
you run to him and hold him to you as close as you can, holding onto each other until the pain drifts away
Felix ~
when he sees you, you see him smile for the first time in 5 years, but it’s not a smile you have ever wanted to see
when he found out about your disappearance, he got over it quickly, or tried to make it seem that way to everyone but his words contained more venom than normal
he slowly walks up to you with his head bowed, trying to hide his smile and says,
 “ I swear to the goddess if you tried to die for dignity, I’ll kill you, “ 
you lightly punch him in the arm when he grabs your hand out of the air and repeats himself but this time with tears in his eyes and no longer a smile,
“ I s-swear I would kill you...”
he drops your hand before he clutches you close to his heart with such intensity that feels like he would never let go
Sylvain ~
now this man would absolutely act like he did not give a single crap that you’re back
but in reality he rejected every single woman that came within a mile radius of him, besides Ingrid who totally knew the truth and would bring him hot meals every once and a while and sometimes a swift kick in the ass whenever he needed it
when he sees finally sees you, he tries to act all cool and push his hair back and does his iconic smirk
but the closer you get to him, the more you see the pain in his eyes and watch him fall apart 
tears are streaming down both of your faces while you make every uncomfortable around you with the sheer intensity of your embrace and some smooches
Ashe ~
this poor baby just immediately collapses from your sheer presence
you have to scrape the pile of mush that is your boyfriend off of the monastery floor while saying everything you have wanted to for the past five years which just makes him turn into mush even more
you finally get him off the floor with a little help from unassuming Dedue and then when he stands firmly on his feet, he plants a kiss just as firm and longing on your lips
while this is happening, Dedue makes sure to turn around to give you two some privacy
And last but not least... our boar prince <3
Dimitri ~
he spends multiple weeks not believing you are real even with serious persuasion from the other blue lions
but after he finally comes to terms with it, he becomes crazy unpredictable
some nights he is ridiculously mean and relentless with his insults to make you give up on trying to care about him
and other nights when he is especially tired, his hard exterior cracks just a sliver and he lets out a meek “ thank you for being here “ and then promptly goes back to fake hating your guts so you’ll let him suffer, alone
which you would never do because no matter how much slander he sends your way, you can see it in his eyes that none of it is true and he’s just waiting for when he can handle being loved again
thank you so much for requesting this and making it all the way to the end!! angst definitely takes more brain power but I loved being creative in a more intense setting!!
more of my work like this <3
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erin-bo-berin · 5 years
Text
The Game
MASTERLIST
I wrote this with season 13-15 Spencer in mind. The more confident Spencer that would shoot his shot (no pun intended) because this one gets a little crazy. But I’ve always imagined Spencer could be a little wild in bed at times, even be up for a game or two. ;)
Spencer Reid/Reader
Rating: Mature (smut)
Word Count: 4,888
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Objective: Whoever can withstand any form of teasing the opposite partner dishes out, the longest, wins.
Rule 1: No sexual activities allowed i.e. no sex, foreplay or kissing on the lips.
Rule 2: Normal touches are allowed, no matter the body part.
Rule 3: You may tantalize in whatever forms you please as long as it doesn’t break rule number one.
Rule 4: The game is over whenever one party gives in to his/her desires.
Rule 5: Winner is treated to whatever they please (sexual or non sexual).
Let the game begin.
You and Spencer had this little game you liked to play occasionally. Simply nicknamed, The Game, it had become a part of your relationship. It wasn’t often that you played, but when you did it was always played with high intensity. Sometimes the game could get nasty.
Currently, you were in the middle of it.
Working at the FBI had not only tuned your attention to details, but it also made for a monotonous work schedule with little or no free time. Somehow with the invention of this game it seemed to spice things up both at work and in your relationship respectively.
It’d began the previous morning.
After a rough month of cases, there finally seemed to be a lull long enough for the entire unit to catch their breath. Staying so busy obviously led to little to no time for intimacy, so it had been a few weeks. This would make the game much more exciting. Spencer was competitive, always wanting to win and you had to hand it to him, he had won more times than he’d lost.
It was on the flight home when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Spencer.
Ready to lose again? 
You looked across the jet towards your seated boyfriend. He shot you a wink, knowing his request was automatically met with a yes.
That all you got pretty boy? I’m shaking.
You didn’t watch as he answered, instead you watched the three dots appear that indicated he was typing.
His answer was only three words.
You will be.
A tingle of desire shot through your body.
Bring it.
Today had started off slow enough. You had some work to catch up on so you’d arrived at work early. It was already a tough morning as Spencer had purposely slept shirtless the night before. It was early yet, but you somehow knew this time around things would be even more intense.
His personal best was 6 and a half days. That was as long as he’d lasted before you jumped his bones. This time you were determined to win.
Your glance at the clock revealed that it was 7 in the morning. You only had an hour and a half until the currently deserted bullpen would be filled with bustling activity. You picked up your mug and made your way to the coffee machine. That was something you and your boyfriend definitely had in common, you both ran on coffee.
You were just about to pour the leftover day old coffee down the sink drain when the sound of the doors opening startled you. You weren’t expecting Emily in until at least 7:45.
You yelped, jumping at the sudden noise, the coffee spilling all over your blouse. You heard the sound of chuckling.
“Great start to your morning, huh babe?” Spencer walked over, handing you some paper towels.
“What are you doing here so early?” you asked, blotting the stain.
He shrugged, “Just felt like being extra productive today.”
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was more likely he thought it would be a good opportunity to mess with you.
“Uh huh,” you said disbelievingly, “Thanks for making me ruin my shirt.”
“Anytime,” he grinned, walking away from you and towards his desk.
“Damnit,” you mumbled, realizing you wouldn’t be able to blot this stain away.
If you were lucky, you might have a spare shirt in your go bag. You paused, an idea forming in your mind. Since you were sure Spencer had an agenda of his own, you decided to pay back the favor.
“Spence?” you called across the room, “Is my go bag still by your desk?”
Your fingers unbutton your ruined shirt, trying hard to keep the smirk off your face. It was an ingenious idea, really. 
“Yeah, why?” His back was still turned to you, his attention on the files he was flipping through.
“Can you grab my extra shirt please? I’ll just wear that today instead.”
You walked to his desk, your shirt dangling out of one hand, your upper torso clad in only your bra. The moment he turned to hand you the garment, his jaw about hit the floor.
“Figured it’d be faster to just change here. You don’t mind, do you?” you smile sweetly.
“That isn’t going to work,” he muttered, forcing his eyes back to the file after you took the shirt from him.
You shrugged, purposely leaning across the desk when you kissed his cheek to thank him, so he could get an eye full of your cleavage. Lucky for you this bra was just a hair too snug and you had to admit, your boobs looked amazing today.
“Get to work big boy, it’s gonna be a looong day” you called, pulling the shirt on as you walked away.
“Kid, I see the wheels turning. Just spit it out already,” Rossi said.
The team was currently in the middle of working a case, everyone working their hardest to catch the unsub. Everyone was spread around the briefing room, you at the round table with JJ and Penelope. Your boyfriend stood in front of the boards that held all the case information, one hand resting on his chin as he studied the information laid out in front of him.
You never knew how, but there was a place Spencer went when he thought. He would space out and focus on nothing but the problem at hand. It was always extremely attractive to you.
“Okay, I think I’ve figured out his pattern. He started in the western part of Virginia right? Then headed to—”
You’re not gonna lie, you ended up missing over half of what he said. You loved when he showed off his knowledge and that brain of his, even just in his job. Your eyes wandered as he talked, eyes lingering on his hands. They moved with his words and you couldn’t help but think of other places those hands had been rather than just used at a crime scene or flipping through case files.
“Right, Y/N?”
You were completely zoned out and missed the fact you were being spoken to.
“Y/N?”
You snap out of it, realizing the entire team was staring at you awaiting the answer to JJ’s question.
“Oh uh- sorry. What was that?”
“I asked if you received the coroner’s report from the latest victim.”
“Right, yes.” You pull out a paper from a file and hand it over to her.
“I know your man is dreamy and all Y/N, but you gotta stop zoning out,” Penelope smirked to herself.
“Hush,” you chuckled quietly, turning back to the rest of the team.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one to notice your staring. Spencer’s smirk made your stomach flip. You weren’t going to let him win again.
An unspoken rule of the game was that when it was time to focus strictly on the case, you obviously did. The game would be put on hold until the case was finished. It was one of those days where you were rushing against the clock to catch the killer.
The team was split up, everyone doing different tasks. You, Spencer and Matt were currently sat around a table trying to make connections with an old case, to the one you were currently working on. It seemed to be the same M.O. 
“In 1989 Lila Long was found dead on the doorstep of her house,” Matt said, laying out the photo once again, “Stabbed 14 times.”
You nodded, chewing on your lip while you thought. It was presumed that she managed to escape the unsub who had grabbed her just blocks from her home. She had managed to make it to her front door where she died. It was unclear whether the unsub had caught up to her and stabbed her again or if she had succumbed to her injuries.
“I don’t think he found her again, as there isn’t any blood splatter here,” Spencer motioned to the picture, gesturing at the door, “We know there would be a specific pattern, but it was never recorded for sure because of the amount of blood found there.”
“Fast forward 30 odd years and another woman shows up dead on her doorstep in the same neighborhood,” you say, setting the most recent crime scene picture next to the older one.
“Rosalie Brewer, 51, blonde hair, blue eyes,” Matt reads off the file, “Exact same type of injuries, a dozen or so stabbings.”
“Are we sure it’s not just a copycat? The story does seem to be the local legend. Maybe someone decided to recreate the murder?” you ask, tapping your pen.
“I don’t think so.” Spencer rubs his jaw; you can tell his mind is whirring.
Matt and Spencer throw around some theories, your eyes focusing on Spencer’s fingers twirling his pencil as he thought. 
Maybe because it’d been a longer dry spell of no intimacy than normal for you, but your thoughts automatically turned sexual. Memories of how those long, slender fingers of his had traced your bare skin flashes through your mind. How they’ve dug into your hips and slid down your thighs before parting them and—
You snap yourself back to reality quickly. Now is definitely not the time to be thinking of such things but damnit did it set your stomach churning in desire. Thankfully, a distraction came in the nick of time.
“Guys, we have a suspect!” Luke rushed into the room, Emily on his heels, “I think he just might be our unsub.”
“Garcia’s on the phone with intel,” Emily set her phone on the table for all of us to hear. 
“So, turns out, Lila Long has a son. Yes my dears, you heard me right. Apparently she gave birth secretly 18 years prior to her death while out of the country. She gave said baby up for adoption and never looked back. Fast forward 18 years later little Adam, all grown up, goes looking for mommy dearest and let me tell you it wasn’t for a nice and cozy reunion. According to his adoptive mother he was always a difficult child with a very bad temper. It was so alarming to his adoptive parents that they made him see a therapist. The therapist notes that he showed bipolar symptoms, had a definite anger problem and at times seemed unhinged and out of touch with reality. It wasn’t until after his 18th birthday that he found out the true story about his birth mother; that she’d basically left the country to have him, secretly give him up for adoption and come back to the States like it never happened.”
“Let me guess,” you said, “That didn’t bode well with him?”
“Right you are. Adoptive parents said he made passing remarks about “hunting down the bitch”. They knew he was angry about how he came to be adopted but they never suspected he’d actually find her and kill her.”
“But he did,” Emily said.
“But how does that relate to our current case, Garcia?” Spencer asked.
“Get this: Rosalie Brewer was Lila Kong’s best friend and helped arrange for her to have her child in secret and even found the adoptive family. She just moved back to the neighborhood a few months ago. There was a witness report in the police files that she’d been seen at a local coffee shop talking to a man that no one seemed to recognize.”
Garcia rattled off the description of the man and sent over a picture of Adam. It was a dead ringer. Everything was a go from there.
Hours later, the case had come to a close. Adam, who had turned out to be the correct unsub had had so much resentment toward his birth mother and her best friend—accompanied with his unstable mental health—decided to hunt them down and kill them in cold blood. The reason for the 30 year difference between murders was the fact he hadn’t discovered Rosalie’s existence and role in the secret adoption until he was much older. In his mind, the job wasn’t complete until she, too, was dead.
You were exhausted; physically and mentally. He gave up pretty quickly and it could’ve been a worse take down, but the prior days of working hard had taken a toll. Currently, you were relaxing in one of the chairs on the jet, a blanket pulled over you. You thought you were the only one awake, when you heard your phone buzz in your lap, underneath the blanket.
You retrieved it and open a text message from Spencer.
Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my hands today.
Another text popped up.
Don’t forget what I can do with them, sweetheart.
Like you could.
You text back, ignoring his provocative texts.
Come over here and keep me company. I’m lonely and cold.
A buzz came slower this time.
Giving in already? Thought you’d last longer than this.
You typed your answer at lightning speed.
In your dreams, Dr. Reid.
You hear a soft chuckle as he walks over to join you in the seat next to you.
“Why are you even still awake?” you asked.
“Just wide awake. You?”
“Same.”
It’s quiet for a bit and you’re sure he’s asleep when you hear him shift positions next to you, alerting you that he’s still just as awake as you are.
A wicked smile slowly spreads across your face as you get an idea. You’re grateful for the dark so he can’t see your expression clearly or predict what’s coming.
“Spence?” Your hand rests on his knee gently, innocently as if it’s just a typical lingering affection.
“Mhm?”
He looks over at you and you can barely see the outline of his face in the darkness.
“Remember the mile high club?” you asked nonchalantly, as if you were simply chatting about the weather.
“The mile high club?” he repeats, clearly confused.
“You know,” you bite your lip, even though you’re not sure he can see it and lower your voice just in case anyone else happened to be awake.
“That time on the way home from a case? When you were having a little problem?”
Your hand slides barely an inch upward and you hear his sharp intake of breath, whether from your touch or the memory you’re unsure.
It had been before the game had been invented. Spencer was extra worked up that day on the way home from a case, so you decided to sneak into the jet bathroom with him to give him some help.
“When I gave you a blow job right there in the jet bathroom?” Your voice is low, your lips by his ear.
“I-I remember,” he croaked.
“That was extremely hot. Trying to make sure you stayed quiet so no one heard us.” 
Your hand slides up his thigh and you smirk satisfactorily when you hear his breath hitch.
“But I could tell how hard it was for you. All you wanted to do was moan my name out loud and grab my head to push me farther down on you.”
He’s silent, his breathing becoming heavier. You’re turning him on and it feels good to be winning for once. You’re not one to dirty talk much, but for this situation, you were pulling out the big guns.
“Admit it. Part of you wanted the entire jet to know just how good it felt with my pretty little lips wrapped around your cock, driving you absolutely insane.”
A low groan escaped his lips and you find yourself having to muster up all the strength you have not to kiss them right then. His hand grabs your wrist, stopping your hand from moving any further.
“Give up now and you can have your way with me when we get home,” you grin triumphantly.
“Never.” 
He places your hand back in your lap, before moving to get up.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a matter to sort out,” he grumbles, making his way back to the bathroom.
You can’t help it, you laugh as he half limps toward the back of the jet.
You didn’t see him for quite awhile after that.
“Gotta admit Spencer, I’m impressed you’ve held on for this long.”
It’d been only a week. Usually the games were over pretty quickly as one—usually yourself—gave in after only a few days. But you were so determined to crack him.
“That’s just because you have no idea what I have up my sleeve. Points for you for getting creative lately though.”
You snickered. His most recent jet bathroom escapade had involved him and his hand only.
“I’m still waiting to see what you got.”
He was picking up files to be delivered to Emily’s office when he turned and nodded to your phone.
“I’d check your phone if I were you.”
Your brows furrowed, confused as you reached for your mobile device. You press the home button, lighting up the screen to reveal a slew of messages from Spencer, which seems to include several pictures.
Opening them, you see that it’s a variety of selfies only showing his face from the nose down, his lips the center of attention in every one. The last message was actual text.
I seem to recall your little fascination with my lips. Thought you might enjoy. You especially like it when they’re in other areas too.
You could kill him. It was one of your weaknesses, that’s for sure. You look up and see he’s halfway to Emily’s office now.
“Not gonna work!” you hollered towards him and he sends back a huge grin as if he knew you’re full of shit.
Which you are because now you’re beginning to weaken. But you’re still far from giving up.
-
You get him back at lunch.
You’re eating at your desk with your legs propped up, clearly giving Spencer a good view of them. He’s purposely ignoring you though, doing paperwork, much to your amusement.
You finish your sandwich and reach for the banana you’d packed earlier that morning. You’d been wanting to try this one ever since the game began for the first time. He just happens to glance up as you finish peeling your banana and you shoot him a wink and give a sly, suggestive lick to the side of the banana.
His tongue flicks over his lips as his eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, the determination still strong in them. The desire is there alright, the will to give up, is not.
Fuck you, Spencer. No actually, fuck me.
The thought floats across your mind. It’s another day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit but damnit if Spencer doesn’t look extra good today.
He always looks good in his work suits and ties, but this one is beyond belief. Or it may just be the fact that you’re wound up and in need of release, but you’re pretty much drooling from afar.
His pants were probably the best part cause his ass looked amazing in them. You’re pretty sure if any of your other teammates were to notice you staring at your boyfriend across the room they’d see you practically in a puddle of your own drool.
“You’re not playing that game again are you?”
You jump at the sound of JJ’s voice nearly sending your pile of files, documents and paperwork flying off your desktop. You turn around in your chair to see her standing at the edge of your desk, an arched brow and amused expression on her face.
JJ was the only one of the team you’d actually relinquished details to about your teasing escapades. Being the one female you were closest to on the team, sometimes sex life talk came up and it slipped out once. She found it creative and intriguing, saying it was never a bad thing to spice things up. But now, apparently you’d been a bit too obvious.
“How’d you know? Is it that obvious?”
“Not exactly. But it was my first guess when I saw you ogling Spence like a dog after a steak.”
You chuckle snort, the simile quite an accurate description of yourself.
“Yes, but the stakes are high this time. It’s been over a month since the last time we..you know had time for anything.”
“By all means, continue on. Win this one for us ladies,” she joked, heading for the stairs.
I plan on it.
Okay, so, that plan is not going so well after all. 
It’s a slower day than normal and it’s barely past lunchtime. Spencer isn’t even actively doing anything other than existing and you feel like jumping out of your skin. How the hell he’s keeping his cool is beyond your comprehension.
You glance at your phone when you notice it light up in the corner of your eyes.
Hey, Y/N.
Are you a tardis?
Your brow raises and you reply.
A what?
A time machine. Just stick with me here.
Another text arrives while you’re still reading his initial reply.
Because I’ve heard being inside you will take me to magical places.
You stifle a giggle. 
That’s a pick up line made for you, Spencer.
Ooh baby, you make my floppy disk turn into a hard drive.
You laugh out loud causing a few agents to glance in your direction and you quickly hush.
Give me the chance and I’d be happy to turn that floppy disk into a hard drive.
The gray dots linger on your screen from some time before his answer comes.
Well, shit.
-
You can feel Spencer’s eyes on you all afternoon and you’re entirely grateful that you decided to wear the nicest, form fitting skirt you own along with a button down that shows just the perfect amount of cleavage to still be considered professional.
You cross the room to make copies and you feel his eyes follow you making you shiver. It’s been 12 days since the game started, a personal record for the both of you. The sexual tension between you and Spencer is so high you’re sure it’s gonna boil over at the most inopportune time. 
Instead of focusing on reports you need to file, your daydreams have become more prominent. All you want is him and you want him bad. You’re on the verge of begging just to be able to feel the amount of bliss he puts you in.
You almost groan out loud when you hear Emily ask him if he minds staying a little later to finish up the final reports. You’re not really up to being home alone so you decide to stay with him until he’s finished.
The number of people in the bullpen starts to dwindle until it’s just you and Spencer left. You’re swiveling in your chair, watching him, his face a mask of determination, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. 
Oh, how much you want those lips on yours, on your skin, those hands roaming your body, squeezing the right places. To have his body pressed close against yours, so close that you can feel his erratic breathing and spiked heart rate against your own chest. You wanted him to make you moan, make you scream even, the building was practically empty at this hour anyway.
You weren’t sure when you got up, but you were halfway toward him when you croaked his name weakly.
Whether it was because of your tone of voice or he just could sense it, he looked up, jaw going slack when he saw your shirt half unbuttoned, your fingers fumbling on the bottom half.
“You win alright?”
In a quick as lighting movement, he’d stood, picked you up and deposited you on his desk, his lips firmly attached to yours.
“Let’s call it a truce, okay?” he murmured against your lips before resuming kissing you.
The kisses were hot and wild, all the pent up sexual frustration being released finally. His teeth scraped over your bottom lip, tugging on it gently before twirling his tongue simultaneously with your own. Your shirt was all the way unbuttoned and your bra pulled down before you comprehended Spencer performing the actions.
He moaned into the kiss, his hands cupping your breasts. You automatically arched into his touch, lavishing in it after going so long without it. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples eliciting a ragged moan from you. Your inhibitions were out the window at this point and you could care less what you sounded like, you just wanted more of him.
“If I knew you’d be this reactive to me, I would torture you more often,” he smirked, leaning down to place his lips around one nipple, sucking gently.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, a hand tangled into his hair.
It was like you were super sensitive to his touch because every little thing he did set your nerve endings on fire. You were throbbing with need and he was enjoying this way too much.
“You son of a bitch, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you half growled, pulling his face back up towards yours, pressing a kiss to his sharp jawline, attempting to kiss him again.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” he grinned wickedly, denying your lips of his.
His hand pressed flat against your stomach, pushing you backwards on his desk while hiking up your skirt. His lips pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh as his hands spread your legs and pushed your panties to the side.
“Spencer, please- fuck,” you moaned, his tongue licking a slow path up you.
“Oh I’ll get to that eventually, just you wait,” he chuckled.
Your ability to form coherent words had vanished, so no remark came in response from you. All you could focus on was his mouth on you and that you wanted more.
You could’ve killed him when he stopped just on the brink of your undoing. 
“Darling, if I had to listen to you much longer I would’ve been done for,” he commented, kissing you again, helping you unfasten his pants before you climb in his lap.
The mutual feeling of ecstasy was all over both your faces the moment you lowered yourself down on him. You vowed then to always let him win the game after this because this was too amazing to miss out on.
“Oh fuck, Y/N, fucking hell,” he groaned into your neck, his slight stubble scratching against your neck giving you chills.
It was rough and border animalistic, your lust and need for each other more than either of you could handle. Your hips rocked roughly against his, fingers digging into his biceps. Your eyes may have rolled back in your head at one point.
One hand is on the small of your back to steady you as you move up and down on him, your back arched as the pleasure rippled down your spine. His lips trail down your exposed throat, marking you as his, his other hand squeezing your hip.
Your hands grip the back of his chair to aid you in your rougher and harder movements as your orgasm builds, the sensation of a pit of lava in your stomach increasing.
A sheen of sweat coats his forehead, stray pieces of his brown curls sticking to his forehead. Your own hair has partially come out of its ponytail, stray pieces hanging in your face. His hand moves from your hip pushing some stray strands from your face before giving you a brief kiss. 
His own release is quickly approaching as his head falls back against the back of his chair, teeth scraping his bottom lip.
“Oh yes, baby, yes,” he growls deep in his throat.
A hand snakes towards your core, his thumb circling your clit. Your climax hits you hard and fast causing your vision to nearly go white. Your breath catches, interrupting your ragged moan of his name.
He lets himself go then, his groans filling the empty room, his expression of blissful pleasure the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen him do.
As you ride out the aftershocks, his lips return to yours, kissing you more gently this time, the action full of love. Your hips have slowed then stilled when he breaks the kiss.
“God, you’re amazing,” he whispers, nudging his nose playfully against yours.
You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can stay in his lap for a moment longer before you have to stand and clean yourself up.
“I think I have a new rule for the game,” you commented.
“What’s that?”
“Spencer always wins.”
907 notes · View notes
jae-daddy · 4 years
Text
Red Rose (2)
Jaebum mafia au 
one / three / four
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pairing: Jaebum x Reader  genre: mafia!au, romance, drama, angst, mature plot: your high school sweetheart, Im Jaebum, is the most feared criminal and you’re his one true love a/n: at this point, this is basically mafia crack - i’ll write another one that is all dangerous this one is wack right now lmao. Also in my opinion guns should never ever be used. i know this treats gun use lightly but it does not show my opinion or my views - gun use should be banned everywhere. i can go on a whole rant but i wont unless y’all want to hear it <3 but i hope y’all will enjoy this  not edit
Your palm pressed against his, as you lay your head on his shoulder. His hand wrapped around yours, the other held on your waist, as his cheek fell on your head. You softly swayed with the music playing from the boombox settled on his desk at the corner of his room.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jaebum moved back, looking into your eyes. You let out a quiet snort at him for being so adorable.
“Sure, I do, Jaebum,” you rolled your eyes.
You had missed your ball in highschool, so here was your boyfriend making up for it in his room. You were in your yellow duck pjs, and Jaebum in a sweatshirt and pjs pants covered with Bart Simpson’s face.
“I mean it,” he kissed your forehead, and as you stared into his eyes you believed him.
Everything was magicial and beautiful. Nothing could compare to this, especially not a high school ball.
“Table number 5,” Randy woke you up from the memory you had lost yourself in.
You instantly moved walking towards the table as you pulled out your notebook and pen from your apron. You froze when you saw the group infront of you, but you pretended to keep your cool.
Jaebum wasn’t here with them, but it was the rest of the boys. They had been coming here a lot after that night. 
You don’t think Jaebum had recognised you, he ate the food, left a generous tip and walked out. He didn’t come to the diner again, but the others did. 
And they came very often. Atleast, once every two days.
“Hey, welcome back,” you cringed, but ignored it as you carried on. “What can I get y’all today?”
“Oh, howdy partner,” the pretty boy with the juicy lips said, as the others groaned in displeasure. He chuckled happily at the reaction before continuing, “I’ll have the waffles again, with two scoops of icecream and extra sauce.”  
“No problem,” you smiled, and took the orders for the rest of the group.
Your heart settled slightly as you placed their food in front of them. Jaebum was not coming again today. That made you feel relieved, but made your gut twist and heart sink all at once.
Even though he didn’t recognise you, it was nice seeing him again. It felt nice to be in his presence once again, even though things were not as they used to be.
Something about Jaebum had dulled down. Something heavy walked with him, step after step, it weighed him down. It darkened the world around him. 
Even his group of friends lessened their horsing around when he sat with them.
Something about him had changed and it broke your heart seeing him like that.
In the hour that he was here at the diner a week ago, he hadn’t laughed once. Even when his whole group was laughing and joking, he didn’t participate. Only commenting once or twice. and one rare smile that didn’t shine as bright as before. He wasn’t the Jaebum who held you in his private ball, and danced to old love songs with you.
He was someone else.
But it didn’t matter. You wanted to see him again, be around him once again. Just be in the same room, and breathe the same air as him. You missed him, and even this Jaebum was enough to warm your heart for the smallest moment.
The sky had gotten darker over your shift today. You looked at the old watch on your wrist and saw it was nearly midnight. You walked to the back, and told Randy you’ll finish after checking out table 5.
“Yeah alright, just bring the dishes in too,” he said, lost in the game of numbers as he started at his accounts book.
You nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it, and walked off. You waited twenty minutes, before the group finished.
“Was the food okay?” You asked, as you placed the check on the table.
“It was great,” one of them said pulling out his card.
“My shake wasn’t sweet enough,” the tall one, Yugyeom, said smiling sweetly.
“Yugyeom!” The one holding the card growled at him. And that’s how you knew his name. Every night Yugyeom would say something, and every night the card bearer would scrowl at him.
“You should try the double chocolate next time.” You smiled, as you took the card to the cashier.
The boys left within ten minutes, and twenty minutes later you finally left work.
Your sigh left you as a puff of white smoke, as you put on your gloves and exited from the back door into the alleyway. 
Jaebum hadn’t come today, again. You felt your heart sink, but you brushed it off.
There was no point dwelling on something that out of your control. All it did was give you sleepless nights filled with worry and a thousand scenarios of reunion of how you and Jaebum will get back together.
You shook your head, as another image of Jaebum walking into the diner missing you by a second entered your mind. He walks over to the counter, looking down at a shocked Randy.
“Where is she? Where is y/n?” Jaebum askes with agony and hope heavy in his voice. His eyes look around the diner with desperation, then back at Randy. 
Randy is taken aback by the tears shining in Jaebum’s eyes, as he tells him; “she just left.”
Jaebum curses under his breath as he rushes out the door, and runs to find you. He sees your shadow further down the road, at the crossing. The lights for the crossing turns green and you start walking.
“Y/n!” Jaebum yells. You turn around, and you freeze. Jaebum remains in his place and the traffic moves around us. His breath racing as he looks at you unable to look away. Finally, he had found you.
You’re standing there shocked; your chest heaving and your cheeks and nose painted rosy.
OMG
And its snowing!
Omg brilliant. 
And then a truck comes your way-
“Okay, stop.” You told yourself, sternly.  You closed your eyes embarrased by yourself. “What the fuck are you thinking?” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING FUCKER?” Your eyes widened as you jumped in your place.
“What-” you whispered, holding your hands at your heart. You removed your beanie from over your ear, and stuck your head out to the left to hear better.
“You really think Marco will let you fuckers live after what you did?” You gasped as you couldn’t believe your ears.
“Omg, real gangsters.” You murmured suprised. You had never seen one, only in movies and tv shows. But they still sounded scary as they you thought they would.
Some guys laughed at that comment, and it was silent for a moment.
You wanted to take a peak around the corner and see what was going on, but you knew better.
“I do know better, right?” You bit your lip tempted. You wanted to look, just a small peak. They wouldn’t even notice you were there. You could get real close to the wall and crouch on the floor so- “No, I know better.”
You shook your head and started walking before you did something stupid.
“Yeah?” Someone chuckled making you freeze, you knew that voice. “Well, goodluck telling Marco what happened here today, fucker.”
It was Yugyeom.
You turned on your heels, walking close to the wall. You took a deep breath, and looked over the corner, and your jaw dropped.
There were about five guys on charging towards Yugyeom.
Yugyeom pulls out a gun, shoots two in their legs and is about to shoot another when gun is wacked from his hands as a punch lands on his stomach. The gun lands a few feet away from you. 
You cover your mouth to hold in the terrified gasp that was left you. The scene was straight from a movie.
Yugeyom smashed his head into the guy who had punched his stomach making him stumble back. He grabbed another one by their neck, kicking another in his balls and then knocking him out with a kick once he fell on his knees.
He twisted his arm loosening his grip, making the guy with the neck grip turn around. He pulls his back towards him, and wraps his arms around his throat. Yugyeom chokes the guy as he struggles for air, soon sliding down and Yugyeom lets him go.
The guy with the broken nose charges again, but Yugyeom right hooks before jumping and karate kicking his face. He falls to the ground, and in a matter of seconds Yugyeom has defeated five guys who were bigger than him.
You were impressed and terrified all at once. Your whole body was shaking with adrenaline as you took the scene in front of you.
This was the guy who wanted sweeter milkshake, and would laugh and smile so innocently. But this was also the guy, wiping the blood from the corner of his lips, his black shirt tore open from missing buttons revealing his chest.
Yugyeom chuckled cockily turning towards the guy who you thought was the boss because thats it goes. The minions fight and the boss sits back and watches, and then he steps in.
Before Yugyeom could turn to face him; the boss had jumped from the car infront of Yugyeom. He elbowed Yugyeom making him fall to the ground. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Yugyeom’s head.
Yugyeom chuckled, still being a cocky little shit.
The boss slammed the gun onto Yugyeom’s face making you wince as a cut formed on his forehead.
You couldn’t think properly. Yugyeom’s arms fell weakly by his side, as he looked up and closed his eyes. He opened them slowly staring down the barrel of the gun.
Had he given up?
The boss smirked down at Yugyeom.
“Sad that you can’t give this message to your boss yourself,” he sneered at Yugyeom, leaning in closer before standing tall over him. You started moving, your body having no control of your movements.
“But your dead body would do the trick.”
He unlocked the gun, and in a second, you picked up Yugyeom’s gun, unlocked it and shot it in their direction.
The silencer must have come off, because a loud bang made your ears ring. You dropped the gun, covering your ears.
You managed to regain some of your senses and looked towards Yugyeom.
His eyes closed tightly, and he didn’t move. You heart shrivelled in your chest as your blood ran cold.
Your ears rang loudly, as you fell to the floor. You gasped for air but nothing came into your lung. 
You stared at Yugyeom, as he remained still; not moving.
You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t save him.
And then red fell on his face; little splatters and then bigger blobs.
Yugyeom opened one eye, peaking at the sight in front of him.
Both of your eyes widened as your jaws fell wide open. The boss in his black coat fell to the cold damp ground as red seeped out from him.
Yugyeom’s eyes met yours, and they widened even further.
You took in a deep breath, gasping once more. This time the frosty air filled your lungs. It burned your dry throat, and cooled your lungs as you collapsed on to the palms on your hand. Your knees bent, the grainy street digging into your leggings as you closed your eyes.
“Are you okay?” You called out, gulping.
Yugyeom didn’t answer. He stared at you for a moment before opening his mouth. But he couldn’t say anything, before he could another voice boomed from behind you.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”
You turned around only to be blinded by the bright light. You covered your eyes as your eyes adjusted to the light. You could make out four figures against the harsh lights.
“Where is your silencer, Yugyeom? Get up the cops will be here soon.” The same voice said, and this time you could tell who it was.
“We have a bigger problem,” Yugyeom got up and began walking towards you. “It wasn’t me.”
“Really? Who was it then?” The guy who always snapped at Yugyeom snapped once again.
“it was her,” Yugyeom pointed at you, as he stood a few inches away from you.
“The waitress?!” Someone gasped. “The hell?”
You looked up at the boys who surrounded you, and then at the body laying unmoving and blood spilling out from him. You left bile come up, as you turned to the side and vomitted.
You looked up one last time to see Jaebum stare at you in shock, and then darkness fell over you.
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violet-knox · 4 years
Text
Returning Home
Part 2 of Conflict of Interest
Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader
Summary: You head back to Hogwarts to fight for the Order during the battle and find Severus to get answers to your questions.
Warnings: Angst... with a capital A 👉👈👉👈 Death, Blood, Voldemort and more angst
Word Count: 8386
A/N: This takes place a few months after part 1 in the middle of the war. I’ve pasted a few quotes from the book which I’ll mention at the bottom to avoid spoilers and obviously the credit for that goes to JKR.
Obviously I've been writing too much fluff lately soooooo...... I'M NOT SORRY!
Part 1
~
Everything was in ruins. The castle in a worse state than the night you’d left, abandoning your home, the responsibility you had to the students that now lay dead on the floors of the one place they were supposed to be safe, the place their parents had put their faith in when they agreed to send them back in September. You’d abandoned your love, your life, everything you’d held dear. A job that gave you everything yet left you feeling so unfulfilled. But what choice did you have? Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, your partner and thought to be soulmate had done exactly what you’d feared and led the once great school into war. And where was he now? Hiding away somewhere to save his skin? Or perhaps he truly was the Death Eater everyone but you believed him to be, gone to stand by his Master’s side. Oh how the great have fallen, crashing and burning to the ground with nothing to show for but betrayal and loss. What would he say to you now that your nightmares had all come true? All that hope you’d carried for him gone. How could he possibly explain this chaos and exonerate himself from the horror he’d caused?
Every corner you turned you were greeted by more bloodshed. Innocents dead, Death Eaters throwing every type of Dark Magic left and right. Not a single stone in Hogwarts walls was left undamaged; some chipped or torn out from its place and most others displaying the blood of students, staff members, Aurors… your friends, ex-colleagues and peers. The sight made you wish you’d both arrived sooner and never shown up at the same time. It made you wish you’d done more than the petty hunting you’d taken part in these last few months. What good were a few caught Death Eaters now that they’d all gathered and attacked the school, destroying the place you’d left to protect?
Heading down to the end of the corridor, you turned towards the loudest of the three halls the castle offered you, filled with nothing but chaos and found a few Aurors, some you recognized, others you thought were too young to enter such a racking fight, defending themselves against a bundle of Death Eaters. You quickly joined them, throwing curse after curse, standing by their side, holding your own against the Dark Magic thrown your way. 
You’d barely begun defending the school when suddenly, the wall behind the Death Eaters you fought exploded outwards, sending rockets of stone their way. You quickly shielded yourself, casting protego and watched as the school defended itself. Every Death Eater was thrown off their feet, some greeting death as soon as they hit the ground and others finding themselves not so lucky, facing wounds that would defeat even the best Healer in the world before facing down the end of an Auror’s wand. 
Holding your wand up stead, you made your way towards the rubble, casting the killing curse towards a Death Eater the second you saw them twitch and stepped over the broken wall to a sight even worse than that you’d previously been greeted with. Groups of students lay dead as others ran down the corridor only to fall at the hand of another Death Eater. You couldn’t stand the sight and your anger grew the more you thought about how insignificant your helping hand really was these last few months. You were only one person, what could you possibly do to truly help these poor kids?
Making your way down the hall, you did what you could, saving as many students as possible until you heard the familiar sound of a voice you could have sworn could only belong to man of the hour himself, the Chosen One; Harry Potter. But it was him, it had to be, who else would be so bold as to use the name of you-know-who so openly, especially at a time like this?
"You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he'll have the snake with him, won't he? Do it, Harry- look inside him!" You couldn’t recognize the girl's voice at first, the fear hidden in her tone masking her usual confidence, but of course it had to be Miss. Granger. 
Silence fell a while and you edged closer towards them, still hiding behind the broken wall, keeping your presence scarce. 
"He's in the Shrieking Shack,” Harry finally spoke. “The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape."
Your heart nearly stopped at the mere mention of Severus. So, it was true. It was all true and you’d been too blinded by love, convincing yourself his words were enough to believe when they were nothing more than lies. Your vision blurred as you placed a hand over your mouth, trying to keep from falling apart, tears running down your cheeks. You slumped to the ground and all the noise, all the chaos around you disappeared as you spiraled down the rabbit hole of grief. There was no need for a spy now, no need to pretend during this wad and if Harry’s words were true, that left you with one obvious conclusion; Severus Snape was a Death Eater. 
"He's not-he's not even FIGHTING?" Hermione had never sounded so outraged before, her risen voice snapping your mind back to reality. Your head pounded, fighting your heart which begged to find another explanation for Severus, anything to prove what you had with him wasn’t a lie. You wanted so badly to believe you’d hallucinated this conversation, that Harry had made up what he said was true but the more they spoke, the more your hope faded along with your dreams of a pleasant reunion. 
"He doesn't think he needs to fight," said Harry. "He thinks I'm going to go to him."
You closed your eyes, unable to hear anymore. Your head felt like it was about to implode from rejecting the fact that Severus had lied to you, telling you he was fighting, spying for Dumbledore when he’d double crossed the Order, he’d double crossed you. Placing your face in your hands, you brought your knees up to your chest, taking deep breaths as you tried to clear your mind. Now was not the time to panic. Now wasn’t the time to feel resentful. A war had broken out and you were in the midst of it. The important thing right now was to fight and win this battle before all was lost to the darkness that had enveloped your love. 
But if Severus had been truthful to you, the one person in his life you knew he trusted more than anyone, then perhaps there was something going on greater than these attacks. Something you were unaware of. Why was Harry Potter looking for that snake and why was it so heavily protected? If anyone knew, it would be Severus, and if Potter and his friends were planning to make their way to the Shrieking Shack then it was only logical for you to go with them. Even if Severus had betrayed you, even if there was no deeper plot, you could still do your part and protect the boy who lived. He was supposed to be the key to winning this war after all, so the best thing you could do for the sake of the Wizarding World was find the truth and protect him. 
Just when you’d finally made a decision and jumped back up to your feet, you heard two Death Eaters shouting for Potter, approaching him with their drawn wands. But Miss. Granger had beaten you to the punch, attacking them before making a break for it. With the sudden chaos that ensued, you could no longer spot them. You honestly weren’t sure if they’d decided on their next move, but you knew at least one of them would head to the Shrieking Shack which meant they would all do what they could to assist. 
You quickly sprinted towards the Entrance Hall, encountering Death Eater after Death Eater on your way, but finally you’d found yourself outside the castle doors, spotting Potter and his friends running out of range of a giant screaming ‘Hagger’. You couldn’t even stop to question the giant and his eagerness. Time was of the essence. You watched them sprint towards the Whomping Willow and remembered the story Severus had told you about the time he’d caught Sirius Black. 
He’d told you about how he’d found him in the Shrieking Shack by following Potter into a secret tunnel under the Whomping Willow. He’d never told you how he knew about the tunnel, but at the time, you hadn’t thought to question it, enticed by Severus’ bravery and ambition instead. Whatever the case may be, his story clearly had some truth to it and could help you find your own way to the Shrieking Shack after those kids who suddenly seemed to have disappeared.
No matter, you knew exactly where they were heading, and they couldn’t be too far ahead of you. Soon enough, you’d managed to make your way to the tree that had begun aggressively swinging its branches in every direction. You quickly found a nearby branch and made your way to the knot under its trunk, immobilizing it as soon as you hit it, just as Severus had described. Ducking into the opening under the tree, you found yourself completely in the dark with nothing but silence accompanying you. Taking out your wand, you cast lumos and began making your way down the seemingly endless tunnel. 
Eventually, the end came near and you felt your heart pound aggressively against your chest, your adrenaline beginning to wear as the fear of what you might encounter on the other side of this trap door ensued. You’d come all this way, there was no going back now, no backing down. This is what you’d come for, what you’d left Severus for; the chance to help end this war. 
You summoned up every last ounce of bravery you had to spare and pushed aside your doubt along with the trap door, climbing into the Shrieking Shack and immediately found yourself met with an agonizing scream coming from the room next door. You slowly edged your way to the exit, staying with your back pressed against the wall, wand at the ready and found Potter, Granger and Weasley all crouched down, listening in on whatever was happening in the next room. When the commotion settled and you heard he-who-must-not-be-named leave the room, you watched the trio walk in with a lack of defensive precaution.
To say you were baffled by their motions would be an understatement. Clearly there was still someone in there and to head in acting as if they’d been called for dinner without their wands at the ready was completely absurd. You quickly moved forward gripping your own wand tightly, ready for whatever it was you were about to walk into as you followed them into the unknown room. But no amount of precaution or training could have prepared you for the sight you saw as soon as you turned that corner. 
“Severus,” you whispered in complete and utter shock. He was lying there with his throat cut out, his hands desperately grasping at Potter as the floor was painted red with his blood. You felt your heart collapse, your head spin in agony as you rushed forward, pushing past Granger and Weasley, throwing yourself on the ground beside Severus. You’d never felt so helpless, so useless before in your life. You wanted to help, you wanted to save him, but you didn’t know how. 
A terrible rasping, gurgling noise suddenly issued from Severus’ throat and your attention was brought up to watch his eyes desperately begging Potter for something you could never begin to even imagine. 
"Take...it...Take...it..."
Memories oozed out of his mouth, eyes and ears but you couldn’t be bothered to wonder what he was doing, you couldn’t accept this. He can’t die, he can’t. He hasn’t explained himself to you yet. He hasn’t told you how wrong everyone was to call him a Death Eater, how he truly was fighting for the light, how he was simply doing as he was told standing by the side of you-know-who as Dumbledore had asked. He hasn’t told you how much he loved you. 
You looked down at your wand and blinked away your tears. This can’t be it, it simply can’t. This is not the end, it just can’t be. Hovering your wand over his neck, you began muttering every healing charm you could think of, holding on to the hope that one of them would work despite the fact that you knew deep down those marks on his neck indicated snake venom was running through his veins, poisoning him and ripping out any smidge of life he had left to give. 
You didn’t stop, you couldn’t stop until you felt those familiar slim fingers graze your hand. Severus had motioned for you to halt your motions, but you couldn’t accept that, shaking your head as your eyes filled with tears, looking into his. His hand felt so weak, so cold, colder than usual and his face was so pale. He was dying and you couldn’t do anything but beg and plead for him to stay. 
“Please… please don’t leave me,” you whispered, leaning as close to him as you could, placing your hand above him as you dropped your wand. 
Severus kept his eyes glued to yours, a few more memories escaping his lips as he focused on your touch, the delicate features of your face, your hair. He’d missed you so much these last few months; they were torture without you and he knew he’d only made it as far as he did with this mission because you’d been by his side. Even when you’d left, it was the thought of seeing your face once this was all over that kept him going. How poetic must it be for your face to be the last he’d see now. 
"Look...at....me..." he whispered, bringing your attention from the second flask Granger had used to capture the last set of memories he’d given up and back to him. Your eyes met one last time before that twinkle behind his black orbs vanished, his hand slipping between yours and thudded to the ground.
“No.” The word stumbled out of your mouth as you desperately went to reach for his hand, grasping it tightly with your own and bringing it up to your chest. Your swallowed screams came out as incoherent whines as you tried searching his eyes, finding nothing but emptiness. He was gone.   
You’d barely had two seconds to process what just happened when suddenly, the voice of he-who-must-not-be-named echoed through your ears, filling your mind with vile thoughts of anger and fear atop the grief you’d felt for your lost love. 
"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery."
You closed your eyes, somehow hoping that would shut him out, that it would shut out the world to leave you be or wake you from this hellish nightmare you were living. But you were given no such luck as he continued to speak, his voice resonating the agony and despair you felt. 
"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."
Dispose of your dead. He spoke as if the lives lost during this war were nothing more than trash to him and why would he care? He who never learned to love, never cared for someone as you had Severus. You couldn’t bear looking at his eyes anymore knowing they’d never look back at you. His hand lifeless in yours, never to hold you again. Placing two fingers over his eyelids, you closed them and placed his hand over his chest before reaching into his robes where you knew he stashed his wand to retrieve it.
"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you.” His voice still rang in your ears and you finally remembered you weren’t alone. There was still a battle to be won, a war to end, lives to save. “You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."
"Don't listen to him," said Weasley. 
"It'll be all right." Granger’s sudden wild tone threw you back and you felt yourself go stiff under all the stress and grief this war had brought. "Let's-- let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan--"
The trio all stood to make their way out, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Eyes closed, you hung your head and planted your palms on the ground. You had to wake up, this couldn’t be real. These last few months, they must have been a dream. You’d dreamt it all and you were back in bed with Severus in his chambers at Hogwarts sleeping next to him after making up. It was the only reasonable scenario because this simply can’t be real, it can’t.
“Professor.” But Granger’s voice had just proved you wrong. This was your reality and it was too much for you to withstand. You wanted to stay with Severus no matter what it may bring, yet you knew you couldn’t. You had to protect the children, the students and help the Order fight against that monster. 
You took in a deep breath and shoved your grief into a cupboard in the depths of your mind, locking it shut before jumping to your feet, griping hold of your wand along with Severus’ and the flask of memories Granger had left for you. You followed Potter and his friends back through the tunnel from which you came, nothing but silence passed between the four of you as you tried to wrap your head around the events that just occurred. 
You couldn’t think straight. It was all just too much. You wanted answers, you wanted to help and that was supposed to be the point in your trip to the Shrieking Shack but instead of having your questions answered, you’d been shown nothing but what you’d lost and could never regain. 
The darkness accompanied you out of the tunnel as you exited out of the Whomping Willow and dragged yourself to the Great Hall, following the others. You felt unhinged, like this reality wasn’t your own and perhaps it wasn’t. It was the cruel reality of fate, rejected by those who’d stood over their love’s empty vessels. 
You somehow felt yourself envious of those mourning the ones they lost in the Great Hall because at least they could mourn knowing they were loved, hugging those still present in the land of the living. Walking down the room, you gazed upon the students, Aurors and staff members lost in the war, the survivors huddled in groups where the house tables used to stand. Nothing more than hardship and devastation passed from one person to the next. 
Fresh tears streamed down your face at the thought of Severus lying there alone in the shack where you’d left him. He should be here. You should both be huddled in the corner alongside the others thanking Merlin you’d survived this long instead of this loneliness you felt accompanying you as you found your way to the nearest wall, throwing your back up against it and sinking down to the ground. 
You brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, instantly rocking back and forth in an attempt to comfort yourself. You’d never felt such a cascading rush of emotions before, thoughts of anger and resentment replaced by agony and remorse the second you saw Severus on the ground. In that moment, it didn’t matter to you what side he was on. He was your heart, your soul, your everything and he was gone. 
You could never speak to him again, never see him or touch him. It wasn’t fair. You’d never gotten the closure you needed after you’d left and now you felt like you never would. You’d hoped the end of this war would give you the means to find the closure you needed, whether that be accepting Severus as the Death Eater he was or the brilliant and brave man you’d come to know him as. You’d never thought of the possibility you’d be faced with his death instead because he’d always seemed so invincible to you. He was an amazing Wizard with skills you were sure would have rivaled Dumbledore at his best. The possibility of his death seemed laughable back then. Even now as you sat there, playing back what you’d seen, what you’d heard, you weren’t sure what had happened, why he-who-must-not-be-named would kill him when he’d gained his favour last year, becoming his most trusted follower after killing Dumbledore. 
Questions upon questions piled up in your mind and suddenly it became clear to you what you had to do next. The war no longer mattered to you, the battle felt like it had taken place eons ago. You needed answers and the flask Granger had handed you may very well be the only thing you had to provide you with what you needed most. 
Quickly standing to your feet, you began making your way to the Headmaster’s office, your pace fastening the second that gargoyle came into your line of sight. You were about to mutter ‘Dumbledore’, hoping Severus hadn’t changed the password since you’d left when the gargoyle spun open with none other than Harry Potter stepping out of it. Your eyes met and you both froze in place, each one aware why the other was there. It was you who’d moved first, taking a step toward the open door before you heard him speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice small and shriveled. “I didn’t know.”
You looked back at him and watched as he handed you his flask, unsure of what he meant. You took it regardless and gave him one last look before making your way into the office. You’d spent many nights here, speaking with Severus, watching him take orders from Dumbledore’s portrait. You’d resented the place honestly, feeling it too crowded, too grand. You much preferred his old office next to the potions classroom, but with the way he looked when he first entered the room, clearly ecstatic about it all had you keeping your opinion to yourself, letting him enjoy the bit of luxury he’d been given. 
Your eyes finally met with the pensieve, unsurprisingly pulled out of its place. Slowly, you made your way towards it and looked down at the two flasks in your hand. Without a second thought, you put away the one Harry had given you, opening the second one and poured its contents into the pensieve. The blue and silver looked beautiful swirling around in the water and you only hoped the memories you’d see as you dunked your head in would be just as alluring a sight. 
The room spun and you felt yourself falling into darkness until a clear image of Diagon Alley rolled into view. You looked around and noticed the lack of people roaming the streets. It didn’t take long for you to spot Severus in his oversized robes, making headway towards Flourish and Blotts. I remember this night, you thought, smiling to yourself as you quickly followed him into the shop. 
Severus made his way straight for the academic section of the shop knowing exactly where to look as you let your eyes roam around the store searching for… 
“Hello.” Ah, there you were. “Do you need any help?” Your cheeks burned red, feeling awkward at how innocently young you looked back then. You were so clueless back then and it almost hurt to watch you interact with Severus. Though despite the clear lack of love between you both, at least your past self had the pleasure of speaking to him at all. It was more than you could ever hope to do now. 
“You’re new, aren’t you?” Severus looked you up and down, seemingly unimpressed with you but looking at him now, you realized he’d hidden a small smirk behind his ‘better than life’ attitude.
“That obvious?” You’d cracked a smile at him, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Yes, you could remember this day very clearly now; he was the first customer to have actually struck up a conversation with you while working here and it made you nervous. 
“No,” he replied, looking down at the book he had in his hands. Leaning in closer, you realized he’d done that thing he always did when he was nervous and let his hair fall in his face to hide his growing smirk before composing himself and looking back at you. “I shop here every few months and this is the first I’m seeing you.”
“Ah, a regular. Perhaps I should get to know your name then,” you said, pushing yourself to do as you’d been told and show the customers nothing but a willingness to help as you offered him your hand. Severus looked down at your open palm, hesitating before firmly grasping it. 
“Severus Snape,” he said, looking into your eyes and shaking your hand. You could almost feel his slim, dry fingers grazing the inside of your palm just looking at the figures you knew were just memories. But you couldn’t help the tears that gathered in your eyes, it was so good to see him so full of life again.
“Well, Severus Snape, do you always shop in the boring section or do you ever explore the rest of the store?”
You chuckled at your own joke, whipping away your tears and immediately looked at Severus, watching him scuff in response before the memory washed away, snatched from you just when you felt yourself reconnecting to him. 
“No!” You shouted into the nothingness surrounding you, turning in your place as colour began to settle into place revealing the empty streets of Hogsmeade with Severus standing in the middle of the road, looking as though he was contemplating doing something regrettable.  
You ran up to him, standing before him and examined the look on his face. All you wanted to do was cup his cheeks, wait until his eyes met yours and ask him what was wrong, but it was just a memory. You knew if you reached out, you wouldn’t feel a thing. He’d pass right through you and you just couldn’t handle that disappointment. So you held back, waiting for him to make a move instead. 
After taking a few more moments, he finally began to walk down the street, stopping right in front of The Three Broomsticks as if he was afraid he’d run into someone undesirable the second he walked in. He paused once more as soon as he’d stepped inside, looking around before making his way to the bar. You followed his lead and walked with him as you searched the practically empty pub; the few people who were present all seemed to be minding their own business, nothing out of the ordinary really. 
You watched him slump into a seat, clearly nervous about being here for reasons you didn’t understand. You’d come to this pub with him multiple times and he’d never acted this way. Unless, perhaps, this was the first time he’d stepped foot in Hogsmeade since the night he was thrown out The Hogshead, that would definitely explain his nerves. 
Severus suddenly went completely stiff and as you followed his line of sight, you realized why.
“What can I get you Severus.” Your younger self had immersed once again, this time as a bartender. The shocked look on Severus’ face amused you. He’d never looked so confundled before he’d met you for the second time. 
“Are you following me?” He shamelessly let out. 
“Me?! I’d do nothing of the sort,” You placed a hand on your chest adding a bit of sarcasm to your tone, acting as though he’d offended you to the highest degree while offering him a small smile. Severus eyed you a moment and you laughed at the interaction, realizing now how silly it looked from an outsider's perspective. 
“Firewhiskey,” he finally said, adjusting himself in his seat to get comfortable. “Double.”
You looked over to the bar and watched as you reached for a clean glass and a bottle of Firewhiskey. “So, what brings you to Hogsmeade?”
This was the second time fate had brought you together and you remembered thinking it had to be some sort of sign, that coincidence couldn’t possibly explain this encounter when you’d done nothing but think about finding him again after you left your old job. You were nervous that night when you saw him again, wondering if you should go as far as to get to know him a little.
“I work at Hogwarts,” he said, watching you pour his drink before pulling out a second glass and doing the same for yourself. “What are you doing in Hogsmeade?” 
You tore your eyes away from the drinks your past self was pouring and looked at Severus to find an oddly curious look on his face. He seemed intrigued rather than skeptical as the tone in his voice perceived. 
“Fate,” you said, smiling to yourself, keeping your gaze on the bottle you had in your hand as you sealed it and went to put it back on the shelf behind you. “I got let go at Flourish and Blotts. Said they didn’t need me after the school rush anymore, so here I am.”
You picked up both glasses and offered him one. Watching the interaction had you suddenly feeling the aftertaste of the Firewhiskey on your tongue as your own image take a sip. At this point, you remembered wanting to know more about Severus. He was intriguing to you, different than those you’d met in England thus far. He seemed to have lived a long life despite looking to be in his late twenties. Looking back at Severus, you began to wonder what he thought of you the first time you’d met.  
“So, what do you do at that mysterious school?”
“I’m the school’s Potion’s Master,” he replied before taking a large sip of his own. “Have you never been to Hogwarts?”
He rose a brow at you and you could see his curiosity peek. You’d never noticed it before, but knowing Severus now, he must have thought of you as something special if he’d shown you any sort of interest.
“Nope,” you replied with a little too much enthusiasm. “I was sent to Beauxbatons because my parents thought it was more conservative.” 
You shook your head, blushing at the sight of yourself speaking of your upbringing. Keeping your eyes on Severus instead, you began examining his expression, trying to memorize every detail of his face. But once again, the image before you began to vanish, and you found yourself in the darkness once again. It seemed as though fate also had a cruel sense of humour, taking away the thing you love just when you felt yourself ready to grab hold of it again.
Spinning around, you tried searching for the new image that should have formed around you by now, but you could only make out a few lights to your left and you’d begun to think something had gone wrong until you realized you were in the dungeons of Hogwarts. You were standing in Severus’ old chambers, before he’d become Headmaster. All you could make out was the pale tone of his face reflecting the yellow candlelight and his hands which were held up close to his neck.  
Walking closer to him, you realized he was standing in front of his mirror, tying his ascot, looking nervous once again. You smiled and simply admired him as he looked his reflection up and down, obviously unhappy with what he saw, but you couldn’t say you felt the same. He looked perfect to you, even his hair which he couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with. 
You’d never seen him like this before, so worried about his appearance, unable to stand in place. Finally, he walked away from the mirror, whisking away into the sitting room where he began pacing, debating something you could see he was on edge about. You bit your tongue, wanting to ask what was wrong until you realized how stupid that was. He wasn’t really here, this wasn’t really him and you’d clearly been shifting through these memories long enough to forget that. 
You frowned, just standing there waiting in anticipation for him to make his next move. Eventually, he composed himself enough to open the door to his chambers and make his way out towards the Entrance Hall where you finally remembered what night this was; your first date. 
This was the first time you’d seen him out of his teaching robes, all dressed up in his navy-blue formal attire. You’d been waiting on the other side of the doors he’d opened, probably more nervous than him. He’d visited you many times at the Three Broomsticks after your first encounter there, finally offering you a tour of Hogwarts months later when the students had all left for the holidays. 
You watched yourself step inside from the cold, shivering with your arms wrapped around yourself. You let out a giggle as you realized how nervous his first date with you had made him. It was adorable, though you knew what Severus would say if he’d caught you using that word to describe him. ‘Kittens are adorable (Y/N), I am not.’ Though you would respectfully disagree of course. 
“I trust you weren’t waiting too long?” He said as he closed the doors. Your younger self was busy brushing snow off your jacket, but you could see the concern in his eyes. You knew that look and it saddened you to see him wear it so early in your relationship. How had you not noticed before his worry over disappointing you had started before you’d even officially began to date?
“Not at all. You’re just on time,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a warm smile. “This school is huge! Will we have time to see it all today?”
“No, but I thought I’d show you the more grand parts of the castle before dinner,” he said, accompanying you down the hall.
“So, does that include your classroom?” 
You followed the figures, watching Severus closely, his eyes beginning to soft as he grew comfortable with you. It was an amazing first date and you were happy to relive it. 
“If you wish.”
The figures suddenly disappeared as they walked down the hall and you found yourself standing in the dungeons again, this time outside of the Potions classroom where Severus was hesitantly leading you. You remembered this part of the tour; the best part of the castle, unable to help yourself from imagining him teaching a classroom full of students, but it was clear Severus didn’t feel the same way. His nerves were back and he looked unsettled as he opened the door to let you into the room.
“Wow,” your younger self said under your breath and you just couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were exaggerating your interest and it made you wish the next memory would appear already to relieve you of this embarrassment. But you held out and kept watching if only to remember the lust you knew would blossom between the two figures in the memory. 
Ignoring your weak attempt at flirting, you instead resumed your admiration for Severus, trying to read his thoughts through his expression, but all you could see was the unsettlement he’d shown back in his chambers when he was preparing for your date. His eyes darted back and forth from one table to the next, analyzing it as if he was searching for a reason to punish some non-existent students. Was he nervous about the state of the room? Is that why he’d hesitated when you begged to see his classroom earlier that evening?
“So, is this where you work? This is your desk?” You spun around at the sound of your own voice, following Severus’ line of sight to watch you run your fingers over his desk at the head of the class. 
“Indeed, it is,” he said cautiously walking up to you. You followed along and watched him approach you as you leaned on the edge of the desk, smiling as if you were about to do something devious. A moment of silence passed, both figures exchanging looks before you spoke again. 
“Thank you for today Severus. I enjoyed the tour,” you bit your bottom lip and pushed yourself up so you were standing but a small grasp away from him. There it is.
You sighed out of sheer joy when you saw Severus’ breath hitch as your figure leaned in, placing both hands on his shoulder and pressed your lips to his. He went stiff and you could feel his lips press against yours as you watched, your fingers instinctively hovering over your mouth at the loss of contact you felt. 
Your smile grew and tears formed under your eyes when he began kissing back, wrapping his own arms around you, pulling you in tightly before your image quickly pulled them both back a step, enough so that you could jump onto the desk without ever parting from him. The kiss quickly became heated as you wrapped your legs around him, his hands slowly making their way up the desk as he leaned forward, your back pressing against the wood of the desk. Your first kiss looked so normal from here, but at the time, you felt it to be the most magical moment you’d ever experienced. He was amazing the first few months you’d spent together, you could relive every second of it and you only wished you could. It was nice to see this moment again, but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him, to feel the emotions you felt when you were with him back then, not just observe the faint memories of you both falling in love with one another. 
“No,” you whispered as the classroom behind the two on the desk began to fade. “Not again, please!” 
You begged the nothingness that gobbled up one of your happiest memories, but it was too late. They were gone and you found yourself in yet another memory, a more recent one by the looks of it. You were in your shared chamber; the Headmaster’s chambers. You heard the door slam shut and began looking around, trying to find your figure along with Severus.
“No,” you said when you spotted him, realizing what memory this was. “No, Severus please. Why would you show me this night?”
You spoke to the figure as if he could hear you but of course, he ignored you and slumped into his armchair, the light from the dying fireplace illuminating his outline enough for you to kneel right before him, looking desperately into his heavy eyes, tears forming, threatening to fall down your cheeks as they did his. This was the night you’d left, the night you regretted full heartedly and it hurt to see the aftermath of your fight; the broken man that sat before you. 
“I’m sorry Sev, please, I shouldn’t have left, I’m sorry,” you said desperately before giving into the one urge you’d been fighting during this trip down memory lane and tried to place your hand over his only to have it pass right through. You couldn’t bear the pain anymore and felt yourself break down as the memory kept playing. You placed your face in your hands and let your heartbreak escape through the tears you shed. 
You’d do anything to take it all back if you were given the chance. If you had a time turner to spare, you’d sit there spinning it until you went back to the right moment to fix things, no matter how long it took. If you’d stayed with him, you could have helped save him, you should have stayed to convince him to fight for the Order. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never should have left! 
Was this your punishment? To be reminded of what you could have had with him? What you’d lost after making the biggest mistake of your life? You kept your head in your hands until you heard Severus shifting in his spot and you opened your eyes just in time to watch him pull out a box from his robes. You looked down at it, focusing your vision to watch him fiddle with the box, the same nervous and disappointed look you saw from your first date, the first time you met now scribbled all over his face once again. 
“Oh Sev,” you whispered as you peered inside the box he was slowly opening, revealing a small, but elegant engagement ring. Your vision blurred again as fresh tears formed at the realization of what you’d done. You wanted to scream, to cry until time reversed itself and gave you the chance to rewrite history. He loved you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and you’d slammed the door in his face, rejecting him before he could even ask, all because you let this battle, this damn war cloud your judgment of him. 
Severus suddenly stood and you instantly rose, staying as close to him as you could while he walked over to the fireplace, picking up the clock you’d given him for Christmas the same year you’d begun dating and popping out its bottom. He slid the ring inside the clock and reassembled it.
“Oh Sev, I wish you’d asked,” you said through tears despite the fact that you likely wouldn’t have given the same answer back then as you would now. It was true what they said; you really didn’t know what you had until you lost it, and it took losing Severus to know that what you had with him was real and true. It took losing him, knowing you could never speak again to realize how much he meant to you, no matter which side of the war he stood.
Looking back at the clock, you watched it disappear along with the fireplace. 
“No, no not another one, please I can’t take anymore,” you pleaded, but it was no use, Severus was gone and once again the scene around you changed and you were back in the Headmaster’s office. For a second, you thought it to be over, that you’d been freedom from your ward, but when you looked to the side of the room, you saw the pensieve was put away and all the figures in the portrait present, which meant this was yet another memory. You let out a defeated sigh, feeling as though this truly was a punishment you weren’t sure you could bear any longer. 
“Severus, you made a promise.” You spun around when you heard Dumbledore’s voice, trying to search for his figure, but it was Severus you’d found instead, standing in front of a portrait, looking as broken as he did in the last memory. “You must stay by Lord Voldemort’s side until the time is right. You’re the only one that can do it.”
“You should have picked someone else,” he said looking as miserable as ever. You’d in fact never seen him like this in all the years you’d known him; broken, hollow, left with no ambition, nothing left to live for. “(Y/N) left yesterday. I’ve lost everything to this war.”
You walked closer to him, realizing what he was saying, what he was asking to do. He wanted to come after you, to abandon his post, the position he’d worked too hard to gain, killing Dumbledore, betraying everyone he cared for, all to become he-who-must-not-be-named most trusted follower. He was ready to throw it all away for you. 
“You said-”
“I know what I said! I was wrong!” He spat at the portrait. You took another step towards him, ready to make the same mistake you’d made earlier and attempt to hug the memory only for it all to disappear before you. This time, instead of a new memory replacing the darkness, you felt yourself being grasped and pulled out into the real world. 
You feel back onto the floor, losing your balance when you came out of the pensieve. All those memories, everything you’d just learned was all too much. Severus hadn’t betrayed you after all, he wasn’t a Death Eater, he was a hero and he’d died just that. You should have gotten up, returned to the battle that was sure to resume any moment now, but you couldn’t. Your body couldn’t handle any more. You couldn’t do anything but lay there on the floor, crying until you had no tears left to shed. 
It all felt so meaningless now; winning the war, defending the school. What was the point when you felt like you’d already lost? The hour was up but the chaos had yet to resume. You barely had the energy to drag yourself up and recollect all of Severus’ memories let alone join the others and see what would become of Hogwarts. 
Closing your eyes, you took in a trembling breath, trying not to think about the breakdown you felt was on the verge of exploding out of you and gathered yourself enough to leave the office. Standing there as the gargoyle closed, you looked down the hall that led to his chambers. You weren’t ready to revisit the place where it all fell apart yet that’s where your feet were taking you. 
Everything was right where you’d remembered it, nothing had changed, not even the picture you'd taken together at the Yule Ball, still propped up on the coffee table beside the armchair. It still smelled just like him, the closet in the bedroom still full of clothes; yours on the left, his on the right. He hadn’t bothered to throw a single thing away, your comb, your toothbrush, your journal still sitting exactly where you left them, nothing had changed. 
Waking over to the bed, you picked up his pillow and pressed it to your nose as you closed your eyes and slumped down onto the mattress. Hugging his pillow with the upper half of your body pressed against the black silk covering the bed was the closest thing you felt you’d ever get to feeling his touch, smelling his hair or finding comfort in his arms. Still it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. 
You missed him so much, more so now than you had the last few months you’d been apart. Your body shock but you had no more tears left to shed. Your mind searched for memories of Severus, but you couldn’t find any more left to mourn over except the last moments you had with him. His eyes slowly glazing over with darkness as his soul escaped your world, leaving you behind. 
He’d spent his last breath sharing all of himself with you and you had to honour that. He died so that the Wizarding World may prevail, and you couldn’t let that go in vain. You composed yourself the best you could, thinking of the victory you had to win for him and dragged yourself back to the sitting room.
You looked over the bleak outlines of the furniture you’d spent hours sitting in with Severus before making your way to the fireplace. Picking up the clock, remembering that Christmas morning you shared together, you turned it over, popping out the bottom to find the ring he’d hidden still sitting there, waiting to be worn. You removed it and placed the clock back in its place, shifting the ring around between your fingers to reveal text engraved on the inside of the band: ‘Always and forever yours’.
It was a beautiful ring, small, but you were never one for theatrics and he knew that. The diamond in the middle was crystal clear, pure as he’d once described you to be. Beside it, two small emerald stones were placed on either side, signifying his promise to you; that he will always be with you no matter what the future held. Looking at it now, the memory of him holding it in this exact spot where you stood, you could almost feel his presence around you, as if he’d just proposed and you’d abruptly accepted like you so desperately wanted. 
You quickly whipped away the single tear running down your cheek and slowly slid the ring on the ring finger of your right hand, symbolizing what should have been but never was. He was gone yes but his legacy would live on, you would make sure of that. 
Before heading out, you searched your pockets and removed the flasks carrying the last memories of your lost love and placed it next to the clock on the fireplace, removing his wand from your person as well, carefully laying it before the clock. 
“You can rest now Severus,” you whispered, hoping that by some miracle, he’d hear you from the afterlife. “I love you so much, I hope you knew that.”
And with that, you slowly backed away from the fireplace and withdrew your wand, ready to fight for the good of the Wizarding World, for Hogwarts, for love, for Severus Snape and everything he stood for. 
~
A/N: Ok, I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭
Scenes taken (and edited) from the books: Harry looking into Voldemort’s find to find his location and the heartbreaking shrieking shack scene.
~
@marvelschriss @bush-viper-cutie @moonie-writes
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themadauthorshatter · 3 years
Text
TOPPAT! CHARLES! PART! 11!
RECAP: Charles is back on Earth, safe and sound, but his recovery is starting on shaky ground. Henry is on the top of Dmitri's hit list and the CCC wants Henry and the government to take out the Toppat Clan. Charles and Henry reunite and so begins Charles's recovery.
If you want to catch up fully, be sure to check out the previous parts here:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
I will also be bringing in a headcanon that I made a while back.
With that said and done, let's go on with the story:
Charles is sleeping in his bed, finally feeling safe and rested after so long, until he wakes up at the feeling of water on his skin. He panics as the water continues to rise, but can't really swim up because he is being held and pulled down by his ankle by Right, who smiles at him. He manages to break the surface and grab onto a ledge, which he uses to try and pull himself out.
Henry stands at this ledge as well, only to kneel and shove Charles's headback below the water.
THANKFULLY, Charles is just dreaming, as Henry is trying to wake him up.
Charles does wake up, but he's so delirious he barely notices he's still restrained to his bed.
He eventually calms down and relaxes in front of Henry.
"H-Hey. Morning," he says as normally as possible, even though he's on the brink of tears.
Henry rubs his head, wordlessly encouraging his friend to not hold back how he feels, and Charles calms down.
The medic gets him checked up and out of bed, he's been there for a week, and Henry gives Charles something he's too happy for words to have: His medicine for his ADD. (Sort of explains a lot, if you think about it.)
"Thanks."
Henry nods and helps Charles stand up and walk to the showers; he hasn't showered in a while, even though he was allowed to the restroom.
There are a lot of eyes on them, but it's quick glances, which Charles really tries to ignore.
When they get to the showers, Henry signs, 'If you want, I'll wait outside for you.'
"You don't have to." Charles stands very shakily in front of Henry and smiles both to his friend and himself. "See? I... I can stand on my own."
Henry nods, but leans against the wall. 'I'll still stand here, just in case. Okay?'
Charles nods and goes to take his shower.
IT'S NOT PEACEFUL OR CALMING AT ALL.
Remember that mind fuck from Right in Part 4? Well, it stuck. As did the torture inflicted upon him.
He tries to feel a bit of calmness, tries to relax because he's safe. He has a moment of calm and numbness as he examines his hand, where Galedorce shot him, but panics when he feels a hand on his shoulder.
"Like being home, kid? D'you really think you'll be staying here?"
Charles wheels around fast enough to slip and fall down, but only looks behind him.
No one's there.
Charles puts a hand on his chest and realizes he's breathing really hard and his heart is POUNDING in his chest.
Yeah he's a little more fucked up than he thought.
Henry knocks on the divider of the shower, that shhet of plastic that's kind of like the plastic in public bathrooms.
"I-I'm fine. Just slipped."
Charles stays on the floor for a minute before quickly finishing up and turning off the water.
Henry has more decency Right, because he passes Charles the towel through a gap in the curtain and woth his back turned; regardless of if they were roommates, privacy is still privacy and it's a boundary Henry will not cross. He's missed his friend, but hasn't missed not that badly.
Charles dries off and gets dressed from clothes Henry passed him.
There's two more surprises waiting for Charles when he walks out of the shower.
When he rejoins Henry, Henry holds something out for him: his red headset.
Charles slips those on, and starts feeling like himself again, but one thing's still off.
Henry lightly taps on his shoulder and shows Charles a pair of scissors, which accidentally sends Charles into a panic.
"Wait! You don't have to-"
Henry quickly pockets the scissors and signs an apology before making a pair of scissors with his fingers and pretends to cut his hair; 'Need a haircut?'
Charles examines his long hair and calms down a little bit. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be... Yeah."
Henry nods and they walk over to the sinks.
It takes a little bit, and some memory, but eventually Charles looks like himself again, short haired, headsetted, and donned in his pilot gear. It is the most natural he's looked and felt and he doesn't know how to process it, aside from, 'what happened to you?'
Henry ruffles his hair as he fights a laugh.
"What's so funny?"
'Scruffy.'
Charles turns to him and lets a grin grow on his face as he points to Henry's buzzcut. "That's funny, coming from you."
Henry just lightly flicks Charles on the arm, giving a him a, "You fucker." smile and messing with his hair.
Charles waves away his hand and gasps as he almost falls down again.
Henry catches him and puts his arm over his shoulders.
"Sorry. Guess I'm... not in the best shape."
Henry helps him out of the showers and the two walk to Galeforce's office.
Turns out, Ellie happens to be there as well.
"Charles!" She cries as she goes to hug him, because it's good to have him back.
Charles flinches back, out of Henry's grip, and into the door, which makes her freeze in her steps.
"Oh! I-I'm sorry, I just-"
"It's fine," Charles replies. "I'm... I'm glad to see you, too."
Ellie smiles at him and he smiles back.
"Nice reunion, but can we focus?" Rupert asks.
The three turn their attention to Galeforce, who gives Rupert a very, 'stop with the salt' look.
"I know it's been a while since you three saw each other, but you'll have to save it for later. We've got work to do."
Henry nods, Ellie pulls up a chair, and Charles stands up a little straighter.
"We don't know how long we have until the Toppat Clan makes another move, so we better start moving so we're ready. I'm guessing you two have some ideas?" Galeforce points between Ellie and Henry.
"I don't, but Henry does."
And Henry tries to hold back a smirk as he takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Galeforce.
It's a crude sketch of the orbital station, but there's a sort of pill shape on the inside of it with a question mark next to it and fire coming out of the thrusters. Next to that is the station pointed at Earth.
Galeforce smirks at this. "Take out the core, and send the whole send thing back down."
Charles gulps at the idea, and fights the urge to throw up.
"But all the pilots we sent in the destroyers are dead," Rupert argues. "How do we get to the core, then?"
Ellie humms a, "Weeeellll..." and turns her eyes to Charles, who looks between her, a skeptical Henry, and Galeforce, who returns with an apologetic look on his face.
"No," Charles says as he backs into the door again, which Rupert locks with a button under Galeforce's desk. "No, I'm not... I-I'm not doing it"
"Charlie, I know it scares you, but we need-"
"SCARES me!?" Charles snaps. "I was locked up there-" He points upward, to the the sky, more specifically the orbital station(I almost typed 'moon,' lmao). "-For almost a year! I saw each and every one of those pilots you sent die. I was-" Charles lowers his head and hand before hugging himself. "After everything... After everything they did to me, you really think I'm just scared to go back?" He holds his wounded hand to his chest, cradling it as he curls forward. "I...I can't do it."
"Charlie-"
"I can't! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"
With a really good kick he remembered from military training, Charles breaks his way out and makes a run for it.
"Wait, Charles!" Ellie shouts as Henry races after him.
Henry is in peak physical condition and Charles is malnourished and weak, so it's easy for Henry to catch up to and tackle down Charles, though he still tries to be careful.
"Stop! Let me go!" Charles cries as he tries to break free. "I'm not going back there! You can't make me! LET GO OF ME, HENRY!"
Henry just holds him tighter and hums, "Mm-mm!"
"I CAN'T GO BACK THERE! THEY'LL KILL ME! I CAN'T GO BACK! LET GO!"
"NO!"
The shout silences Charles instantly.
"I can't... I'm not letting you run away." Henry holds Charles as close as he can, vaguely feeling how thin his body is under his clothes. "I don't want to go back, either. I don't want you to go through it all again. I'm sorry. We need to get to that core and navigation, and you know how it all looks inside. We need you, Charles."
Charles holds on to Henry's arms, his friend trembling as he fights a sob of his own.
"Ellie and I will be on the station with you, no matter what. We won't let you go. I won't let him take you away again. I swear."
Even though Henry's voice gives out at that last part, Charles sniffles and nods, Henry letting him turn so they can hug for real.
Ellie catches up to them, having been spoken to by Galeforce and Rupert before catching up.
The two look up at her and she joins them in a group hug, Triple Threat officially reuniting after nearly a year apart.
AND BEFORE YOU THINK CHARLES'S SHIFT FROM HOSTILE TO 'GLAD I'M HOME' IS TOO SUDDEN:
Charles is in his own room and bed, tossing and turning as he has another nightmare. This time, he sees himself in the mirror, the one from Toppat-ing, glaring at him.
"You're worse than both of them put together. First you joined the Clan, now you're back with the government. Who's the real traitor here?"
"That's not true," Charles barks with a cough. "I didn't want to join, but what choice did I have?"
"Do you really think they'd just take you back after you STOLE for the Toppat Clan? You know what the General does to traitors."
Charles throws a punch into the mirror, shattering it to pieces.
He freezes as a pair of arms wrap around him from behind, one from under his arm and holding his shoulder while the other holds his chin.
"Face it: You're a tool for both of them to use. They're going to do it again, use you to get to the orbital station until you've done your job. You know how much the General hates liabilities."
Charles bites back a groan as he feels his toppat self turn his head to the point ot causes more than a little discomfort.
"Useless and a traitor."
He yelps at the vertebrae in his neck popping.
"Why did you bother coming back?"
As he hears his neck snap, Charles screams as he wakes up and jolts off of his back.
His heart's racing and he's covered in sweat. With a gulp and a few deep breaths, he calms himslef enough to leave the room he's in and walk to Henry's and Ellie's room.
He sees himself a lot, but tries to ignore him.
He freezes when he sees Right standing by a window and staring up at the sky.
"Hmmm. Yeah. Not that impressive from down 'ere." Right turns his head to Charles, the cybernetic eye piercing right through him. "Kinda starting to miss you, kid. You were fun."
Charles's breathing picks up and he shakes his head before sort of smacking himself with his hands, just enough to snap himself out of seeing Right.
And it works.
He walks into Ellie's and Henry's room and hesitantly shakes Henry awake, which gets him up easily.
'What's wrong?'
"Is... Is it okay if I... If I sleep with you?"
Henry taps his forehead and shakes his hand a little. 'Nightmare?'
Charles looks away from him and nods. "I know it's dumb, but I can't go back to sleep. I'll just have another one and then the medic has to come to my room and check on me and it's late at night and I don-"
Henry shushes Charles and scoots over a little in his bed, making enough room for Charles to slip in, which he does.
They're back to back at first, but Henry puts an arm around Charles when he feels him shaking.
"Thank you," Charles murmurs as Henry holds him close.
Henry lets out a small sigh when he sees Charles sleeping and dozes off himself, holding Charles as he sleeps.
AND THAT'S PART 11!!! A lot Stickvin in this part, and a lot of reminders for Charles of what he went through. AND NO REST FOR THE WICKED.
I hope you guys enjoyed this part, I tried to make it longer and Charles may be going through this quickly, but I figured since he was already part of the government and knows how to get through stuff a little easier- well, as long as it isn't like this.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed!!!!!!
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My Brothers, Corrupted
Chapter Three : Section Eleven : Reunion
Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three
Trigger warnings for character death, graphic violence, guns and gunshot wounds, abuse, and suicidal ideation.
Everyone is back together again - and Anti doesn’t like what he finds.
Red’s still fussing over Dapper by the time they make it to a hotel that night, but Dapper’s gone so tired and quiet he doesn’t seem to have the strength to reassure him, asking Red increasingly confused questions as the day goes by, nose bleeding at random.
“Where are we?”
“Headed back to Peru, Dap, to see Dok.”
“What do you mean, Dok?”
“Dok’s waiting for us, buddy. Your big brother.”
“How many big brothers do I have?”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Who’s in the seat in front of me? His face is all shadowed.”
“There’s no one in the seat in front of you.”
“There’s someone in the seat in front of me. He’s not supposed to be here and neither am I. Where are we going, Anti?”
“It’s me, it’s me…”
He doesn’t resent Dapper for having another confused episode, or for hallucinating, but he kind of wishes they could just go back to the first half of the day, where it was just him and Max talking for hours in the front seat. He’s so easy to talk to.
They get two adjoined hotel rooms and leave the door open between them as Dapper curls up on the windowsill of his room, holding his new sketchbook to his chest but staring out at the world around him. Red sinks onto the bed beside Max and looks up at him.
“Whew,” he says.
“Whew,” agrees Max. “Some day, huh?”
“Some day. But tomorrow we’ll have Dok and he’ll help us get Dap’s medicine and everything will be okay.”
He sits back with a satisfied smile. His eyes and Max’s meet more easily these days. Dapper stares at them from the opposite room.
Anonymous asked: Sorry you're so confused Dapper. If it helps any, I don't think much will have changed for you guys, just Marv, Trick, and Anti. Results were a bit mixed but we did save a life and that's what matters so thank you.
“That is good,” says Dapper, managing a smile at the news. “It’s really weird that they’re not here with us. Tomorrow, though, we’ll be back with Anti and everything will settle down again.”
He puts his chin in his hands and glances over at his brother again. “I hope Red is saying goodbye to Max. He’s getting much too attached and they haven’t even talked about important things.”
Anonymous asked: Would you be upset if Max stayed? Not Anti. YOU.
Dapper stares down at his hands, at his sketchbook.
“It’s not… an option. If he’s still here when Anti finds us, he’s dead.”
He looks up again, over at them chatting in the other room, their bodies turned towards each other.
“But I was glad to meet him. He gave us a nice week. I will be able to hold onto it. Like Christmas. Or the day Trick and Dok took me to get groceries and fish. And everything was okay. You have to have days to hold onto.”
Anonymous asked: Hey Red, how are you guys doing? What's the plan, if there is one?
“Yeah,” breathes out Max. “I think, uh. I think we should talk about that.”
Ro sits up from his place beside him. “What do you mean?”
“Like… what are we planning to do after we find Henrik? What are we planning to do if Anti comes?”
Ro’s mouth twists. His face falls. Uncertain hands tangle together in his lap.
“Do you… do you want to go back to Anti, still?” asks Max.
Red looks down. Ro looks up. He covers his face for a second, letting out a deep breath.
No.
He doesn’t.
Oh, fuck.
How to admit it? Even to himself? He laughs softly, tugging at his hair.
“It’s okay,” whispers Max, his hand drifting closer on the bed.
“Max,” whispers back Ro, and Red, and Jackie, as one. “I don’t think I can go back to Anti.”
bupine asked: anti doesn't have to find you, dap. you can find dok and run. anti's still weak, and he got his ass kicked pretty good the other day by the magician you helped us save, so you'll have a fighting chance. blue and trick will be ok for now, i think
Dapper laughs, his whole chest shaking with it, pulling you closer happily. “That’s funny! You’re all trying to cheer me up.”
bupine asked: which part of it is funny?
“Running away from Anti? You think he’d ever let me get away?”
Anonymous asked: You deserve more than just days to hold onto. You deserve people to hold onto to make every day the best it can be.
Dapper shrugs.
“Well. Maybe. But that’s not what my life is.”
Anonymous asked: That's okay, bud. Knowing you don't want to go back to Anti, or that you can't, it's a step. We can try to figure out what to do from there.
“Yeah.” Max is quick to affirm it, leaning forward, trying not to let his face be too hopeful. “Yeah, yeah. It can just be - we can figure it out from here. That’s great, that’s great news. I was really hoping you would say that.”
“He won’t just let me go, Max.” Ro puts his head down, tugging at his hair. “And I don’t know how I could not feel guilty if I left the others behind…”
“Jackie, sometimes the best thing you can do in a situation like yours is have time to get your own life sorted and your head straight. You have to take care of yourself first.” Max’s hand is on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing soothingly across the muscle. “That’s not selfish. Just because you’re the oldest brother, that doesn’t mean you have to always be crucifying yourself for everybody else. You’re important, Jackie.”
It’s almost too much to hear someone other than Blue say it with so much conviction, and Red turns his head away, flushed and trying not to smile.
“Well… I just… I really wish I could just talk to Anti about this.”
He sighs and covers his face again. “I know he’s been bad to us in the past. But if I could just explain to him that I still love him, I just need some time away, and I can’t watch him lock up Dap anymore… I don’t know how to just betray him like this.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” says Max, and this time he must struggle to keep the heat out of his voice, the hatred. “He lost his right to keep you around every time he hurt and manipulated the two of you. He tore your memories to shreds just to ensure you didn’t want anyone but him.”
“He must have had good reason,” mumbles Red. “I’ve loved him this long.”
Max smiles sadly, but doesn’t contradict him.
“Listen, um. I’ve thought about this a lot, Ro. You know how I was planning to help Dapper hide from Anti? To save him if he ever got in trouble and you weren’t there to protect him?”
“Yeah?”
Max reaches for his wallet and pulls out a stack of fake IDs all with their shared face on it. There’s different names, nationalities, birthdates, everything. Ro stares at it, eyes wide.
“We could get on a plane,” says Max. “I’ll get all four of us tickets and we could go somewhere. I’ll forge anything you need. We’ll work together to cover our tracks. I’ve been hiding from Anti for years and you’re the best hacker I know. We could go, Jackie. We could go.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: What is your life then, Dap??
His fingers drum along the paper of his book.
“When I was born, I was stolen.”
He runs the pads of his thumb along the image of a boy in chains.
“I didn’t know anything but Anti. I was unhappy. But then I settled in. And it wasn’t so bad.”
Flips to a sketch of Ro, smiling at him.
“Eventually, someone saved me, and stole me. And I was unhappy. But then I settled in. And I was happy, for a little while. And things were good, and kind to me. But I still hurt. I was still haunted. And then he stole me again.”
Dozens of drawings of Anti. Again and again. You know it is him without knowing how you know it is him. Dapper, loving, traces his image.
“I was scared. Someone came to save me. They failed. We tried to run. We failed. Red forgot. He was unhappy for a while. But then he settled in. Trick and Dok tried to stay away. Anti caught them. Blue tried to run. He didn’t get away. He was unhappy, then happy, then unhappy. He’ll be happy again at some point. He’ll settle back in. Because you know something?”
He tears a picture of Anti out of his sketchbook and lets it flutter to the floor.
“Everyone else gets to forget. Everyone else does it once, fights, forgets. But Anti washes my brain out again - and again - and again - ”
He tears pictures of himself from his notebook. Pictures of his brothers. Pictures of Anti.
“And I never, ever get to forget. Not really. Not fully. Every day I’m disoriented, struggling with the memory loss and the psychosis and the time travel and the abuse. And every day, I wake up unhappy, and then - I settle.”
He puts his head down against the glass.
Crying soft and silent.
“Cause that’s what life is. It’s not happy. It’s settling. It’s getting caught again - and again - and again - and again…”
Anonymous asked: What do you think, Red? Do you want to go?
Red feels a dozen things, a hundred things, a thousand things all at once.
Joy. Yes! Yes! Let me go with you! Guilt. Anti would be so upset… Vindication. Well, fuck him, he’s been horrible to me. Fear. He’d kill us for this. Relief. The thought of being fucking free of it all!
And then -
Disbelief.
He pulls back from Max’s hand on the bed.
Staring at him.
Shaking his head.
“This is… a trick,” he says, mouth taut. “You - what do you want?”
Max stares at him, his eyes grieving.
“Please. Nothing. I don’t want anything but to see that you’re okay.”
“That’s not how life works,” spits Ro, on his feet, turned away from him, eyes burning. “What do you want? If you just told me… maybe I could give it to you. And we could go. I just need to know what you want.”
“Just you,” croaks Max. “Please. I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. Just you, Jackie. Ro. My - my - just you.”
Anonymous asked: Max doesn't want anything from you. It's not a trick. He doesn't work like that; has he ever tried to trick you before? He just wants you, and dap, to be safe, or at least as safe as possible.
“I get that you’re paranoid,” says Max gently. “It’s okay. Let’s just take a moment and breathe.”
Everything he says is gentle unless he’s shouting for joy, and he’s so pretty the sun should be ashamed, and how is Red supposed to put faith in someone like that? Why would Max give a fuck about him? What does he want?
Just you. Just you.
Red’s heart picks up in his chest.
He’s been pretending he doesn’t notice, but he does - even he couldn’t miss it. The way Max looks at him.
The way he looks back at Max sometimes.
He sits down on the bed, exhausted, staring at Max.
“Jackie?” says Max.
“Yeah,” mumbles Ro. “Just… just give me a second.”
He stares at him. Examines the strong curves of him. The warm lines of his brown hands. The eyes like a big cat’s. He thinks even if Max were ugly he’d still probably be beautiful. He moves like he’s in love with the world. His eyes are in love. Yeah, he’d be beautiful anyway.
“You’ve been really, really kind to us,” mumbles Ro, and he gets up again, and shuts the door between his and Dapper’s room. “If you wanted me, you just… you just had to say so, I - I’m grateful to you, and maybe, yeah, maybe I’d like to go away… and I could be what you wanted me to be.”
And then, before Max can answer, Ro is beside him.
Close beside him.
Max’s breath hitches as Red’s weight sinks into the bed beside him. A hand caresses the back of his head. A second grips his lapel and gently tugs.
“True or false,” says Ro. “You loved me once.”
Max’s eyes well. He closes them, biting down hard on his lip.
“Jackie… you’ve been through a lot, we don’t have to - ”
“Please,” says Ro, putting his head down against his shoulder. “Please, I - I want to hear you say it. I know.”
“You don’t have to - ”
“I just - I just - ”
“I loved you, yes, but you don’t owe me - ”
“Did I love you back?”
“You - I - yes, fuck, Jackie, my h-heart…”
It is Max’s turn to put his head down on Ro’s shoulder. You see, from your place in the corner, Ro’s face light up and flush, his mouth beaming as he buries his face against Max’s neck, and then they are hugging so tight they both might burst, tumbling down onto the bed, wrapped up in each other, holding on to each other, and Max weeps in silence against his chest.
“We were in love?”
“We were, we were, yeah, I loved you, you loved me…”
“You’re still in love with me?”
“I am,” sobs Max. “I never stopped being in love with you. You’re my family, Ro, you’re my heart. Please, we can’t talk about this anymore. You’ve been through so much - ”
“All you had to say was that you wanted me again,” says Ro, triumphant, and then Max freezes stiff as a warm mouth presses against his mouth. “I can give you that.”
He’s a little nervous, sure, but this? This is nothing for as much as Max has done for him! Max took care of him! Max took care of Dapper!
“Let me pay you back,” whispers Ro, sitting up slightly in his lap, mouthing another kiss against his neck. “Max, I can’t believe… I love you, too, I - ”
“Jackie,” croaks Max, no longer hugging him back. “No.”
He can be anything Max needs him to be. Max is kind and good and wonderful, a far cry better than Anti, and he’s always been able to be anything Anti asked him to be. He can be anything Max asks him to be too. He can get him to keep taking care of him and Dapper and Dok, too, and then all of them can go away, and everything will be wonderful, if he can just give Max what he wants.
“I’ll turn the camera off,” whispers Ro.
“No, don’t turn the camera off.”
“Just real quick, I’ll get up and turn the camera off. And it can just be you and me. It can just be you and me. Just - ”
“Ro,” shouts Max. “I don’t want you to do this! Get the hell off me!”
Ro -
Ro stares at him, disbelief in his face.
“M-Max, I - ”
“Please get off me,” whispers Max.
Ro gets off him, trembling, his face only getting redder, his mouth shaking with hurt. He turns away from Max, standing in the corner of the room, trying to breathe.
“I’m going to go check on Dapper,” he says after a moment.
“No,” says Max. “Please. Let’s talk about this. It’s not that I don’t… Ro. I don’t know where to start… I’m not… I’m not… you’ve been through so much and I don’t want this to be… this isn’t how I wanted this to… fuck.”
Max buries his face in his hand. Ro stands in silence, turned away from him.
Anonymous asked: Life can be happy, dap. It's not just settling, for everyone. It's not fair that it had to be settling for you, and for your brothers. But life can be happy. And we're trying to make it that way for you and your brothers.
There’s a faint sob from Dapper’s room. Max and Ro stop short, staring at each other.
“Maybe we should check on him after all,” says Max.
Ro wipes swiftly at hot tears, feeling humiliated and stupid, but Max’s hand comes down on his shoulder again.
“Let me,” says Max. “You’re all worked up. Just take a moment to breathe. I’m not mad, okay? I’m not mad. We just need to talk. I’ll be right back.”
He opens the door to Dapper’s room carefully, stepping inside.
“Hey,” he says to the figure pressed against the window. “Is everything okay?”
Dapper’s still more interested in talking to you. “I want my brothers to be happy,” he says. “But that’s not something that’s ever going to happen for me and pretending otherwise just makes it all worse.”
Anonymous asked: Change is hard, but we need it for the better. It can be adjusted to and it can stay and work and unfortunately we're going to have to fight for it. "Settling" is a refusal of that change. ANTI is a refusal of change.
“Change never happens,” says Dapper bitterly.
Max sits down on the windowsill beside him. “Looks like this night got dramatic for everyone pretty fast, huh?”
Dapper doesn’t look at him. Head against the glass. Eyes closed.
“I think they’re right,” says Max softly. “I think you have to keep hoping for change.”
“I’m not like the others,” answers Dapper coldly, to you, to him. “I wasn’t made for anyone but Anti. You know why it doesn’t matter if Anti gives me a hundred nicknames? It’s because he’s the one who picked my name. The others all got to be Chase, Henrik, Jackie, Marv. Me? I’ve always been Dapper. And that will never change.”
“Hey,” protests Max, worried, leaning forward. “Hey, come on. Don’t say that. Change never happens, that’s not true. You still have free will. You still change. Hey, you picked this shirt out, right?” He reaches out as if to touch the soft rhino t-shirt, but a warning look from Dapper wards him off.
“A fucking shirt isn’t the same as not living my entire life centered around making Anti happy.”
“It can be a start.”
“It’s only ever a ‘start.’ In the past six months alone, Marvin tried to escape with Henrik, willing gave in to Anti instead, then a whole fucking herd of magicians came to help us and we still couldn’t get away. When we were still twins, Jackie broke us out of our room and carried me two fucking countries away trying to escape with me while I was running a 40-degree fever. Couldn’t make it. I lived with my family for what – a year, two? Then Anti stole me again. I tried to escape twice before he wormed into my head, Henrik and Chase once attacked him head-on trying to get away, again and again we’ve fought, and you still don’t get it. We are never getting free of him. Soon, he’ll be here, and then? You’ll be dead, Max. Just like everyone else I’ve ever loved.”
Max stares at him.
“What?” snaps Dapper. “Are you afraid?”
“That was my sign name,” says Max. “You remember me.”
Dapper blinks. Glances at his hands. Glares again and turns back to the window, eyes burning.
“You should go be with Jackie,” he signs wearily. “While you still can. He deserves to know how much you’ve always loved him.”
Anonymous asked: Maybe it won't be happy for you. But it can be better than it is. It can be better than it is, and someday it will be.
Dapper breathes out a long, low sigh.
“If there’s one thing that might be worth fighting for, it’s the thought that maybe the others could be happy. I remember when I was first captured - when was that, who was I then? - I consoled myself by saying that since he had me, he wouldn’t need the rest of my family. But then he brought someone else to me. And more and more. And I couldn’t do anything but sit in my room, alone, watching him erase their love for me.”
“The others still love you,” murmur Max. “I still - ”
“You don’t have to pretend we’re friends,” Dapper cuts him off.
“We are,” protests Max, hurt. “We were.”
“You love me because you love Jackie and Jackie thinks he loves me. Sometimes when people love each other enough, they start to love the people that other person cares about. Just because they love that one person. We’re not friends, Max. We don’t know each other. Maybe we did once, but we certainly don’t now. But you still love me because you love my brother. So I think it’s enough. It’s enough that you should tell him you love him and mean it. You should go back to that room and tell him you still want - well, it’s not my business to talk about.”
“Are you sure you’re not just pushing me away because you stopped believing that anybody could love you but Anti?”
Max is surprised by the volume of his own voice. He covers his mouth with his fingers for a second, taking a deep breath.
JJ’s gone tense beside him. He doesn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” whispers Max. “Is that how you feel, Jameson? That that’s the reason everybody loves you? Because they love the people who love you, so you get the leftovers of everybody else’s love? Because, fuck, I… it’s not true. And I know you’re going through shit, and I’m sorry, but you owe it to your brothers to start trying to believe that, you owe it to Jackie – ”
“Jackie isn’t always kind to me,” Dapper interrupts him fiercely, though there’s no condemnation in his face. It’s just facts to him now. “Neither is Trick. They love me because their brothers love me. And Blue and Dok love me because Anti loves me and told them to, and Anti loves me because he needs me, and I am – I am – I am a weapon and that’s it, that’s all. A weapon and a pet and a child. Tired, that’s what I am. So… so unbearably exhausted, you wouldn’t believe… tired enough that the weight of it could sink boats, tired enough to kill men God offers more mercy to… Nobody can love me because nobody gets a chance to. Anti wants me in my room and I can’t get away from him. Maybe this week, for a little bit, Jackie’s loved me, but soon he’ll be taken away from me again, and I’ll be alone.”
“Jameson – ”
“Don’t call me that. Please. I’m not like Jackie. There’s no Jameson to go back to because there was never a Jameson to begin with. I was born in Anti’s grip and I will die in Anti’s grip. I have always been Dapper. Leave me alone. Be with Jackie while you still can.”
But Max isn’t done. Max can’t see him like this.
“You know something?” he’s choking out, getting on his feet before he can even finish signing. “I used to think you were the most wonderfully fierce person I’d ever met. You were so bitingly funny and so bitter but so kind to everyone around you. Like you had taken everything horrible that had happened to you and looked it directly in its face and then turned around to spite it by your love for everybody around you. Like you had taken all that hurt and you were deciding, every single fucking day, to use it to be a fucking beam of light to everybody around you.”
JJ grips at his hair. His head is bowed down against his knees. He cries into yellow shorts with suns on the pockets.
“Please leave me alone.”
“And fuck, it’s not your fault, and I know you’ve been stolen back to him a half-dozen times now, but goddamn, goddamn, Jameson, it fucking kills me to see you made into something passive and trapped when you used to fight every single day to get free of the hatred he tried to teach you. The worst part is, I see moments where you choose to go back to the person he taught you to be just because you know it’s safer there, not because you had to, not even because you were triggered, just because it’s easier for you. I get it, bud, it’s survival, it’s abuse, but I can’t pretend I don’t see it. I can’t pretend that you couldn’t have realized I was there to help that day you opened the motel room door and saw me, because, Jameson, I saw the recognition in your eyes, and then you realized, I think, that I was against the fucking rules, and you attacked me instead. And I think now you’re attacking me again because it’s easier to feel bad than it is to feel good for a moment and then feel left out again a minute later, because you’ve let him tell you that nobody gives a fuck about you, and it’s not fucking true! It’s not fucking true! You have to stop! Don’t you dare say Jameson wasn’t real, he was the truest person I ever fucking met.”
“I can’t help what I had to become!”
 “I know,” says Max. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I will ever accept that you have to stay as that person forever. Especially since he’s fucking miserable, and will barely even admit it to himself.”
bupine asked: i know how ridiculous it sounds, but it is possible to kill him. you told us that anti was defeated once, forced to possess an animal. a magician got him to that point the other day. he was close to death, from what we saw, or as close as he could be. he was given a lot of electric shocks that hurt his body. if he died, blue could get his magic back. you could be a family again. a real, loving family, dapper. do you remember what that's like?
“Kill him?” Dapper’s hands shake slightly. “Is that what we’ve come to? Sometimes I dream about killing him, but I don’t think I could ever do it. No matter what I think of him… Anti has been my entire life. And there have been moments I loved him so deeply I - I - ”
Torn between grief and his own hopeless anger, Dapper wraps his arms around himself and sets his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. There are pictures of his family scattered around the floor around him. With a sinking of his gut, Max sees that Anti is the only one ever depicted as smiling. Red is a hollow, despairing shadow chained by the ankle to a doorway. Blue is sick with shaking, bleeding palms. Trick and Dok are separated by doors, one chained up by the throat, the other holding a bottle of pills and a thin-looking cat.
“I can’t let myself wake up again,” whisper his hands. “I can’t become aware. Can’t let myself remember. Can’t let myself leave this headspace. If I do, this numb world all becomes a nightmare again…”
Anonymous asked: I think I get what you're saying, Dap. But the thing is, at some point you have to leave the numbness. To me, it's like fog. And past it is scary, and painful, but it's just a storm. It's just a storm, and you will come out on the other side. The fog is safe, and known, but it's no way to live, not forever.
“They’re right,” says Max. “And you deserve better than to be stuck in that fog forever, JJ.”
“Ha,” signs JJ wearily. “That’s a whole different issue.” “Well, in my opinion, you’ve always stressed way too much about your own morality,” says Max with a small smile. “Even while doing good shit, you’d feel guilty for tricking the people around you into thinking you were a nice person, when really you believed you were a bad one. Just because of the things Anti made you do.”
“I could have fought harder against the things I’ve done,” grieves JJ, his eyes downcast. “I could have tried harder, I - I’ve killed people, tortured people, helped Anti capture my family… and the worst part is, it’s not that I feel guilty for the sake of the things I’ve done, I’m just scared to go to hell…”
“Jameson,” soothes Max, and he reaches out to try and touch him again, but JJ draws sharply away, shaking his head.
“You don’t know how bad of a trigger strangers are for me,” he warns. “I could kill you.”
“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. Forgive me. I just want to be here for you. I want you to know that I think you fought as hard as I could and you still deserve forgiveness.”
Tears flow down Dapper’s cheeks. He brushes at his face, sniffing.
“You still deserve to get away from Anti,” says Max. “You still deserve to be loved by other people. You’re important too, James. You’re not just somebody’s tool. You’re a human being.”
“Not quite,” sighs Dapper. “But I understand what you mean. Max, listen. Even if I am as important than my brothers, you should know that I’m more important to Anti than they are. So if it comes down to it, and you can take Henrik and Jackie and run… leave me behind. Please.”
Max’s eyes are wide.
“What? No. I can’t do that.”
Dapper puts his head down against the window and sighs.
Anonymous asked: But Dap, this might be your only chance to get away, don’t you think you should take it?
“I’m sorry,” says JJ. “I just… really am having a hard time believing we could get away. But maybe you could take Jackie at least. And you could be happy like you always deserved to be.”
“Don’t just give up on yourself,” says Max. “Please.”
bupine asked: dap, you deserve saving too, you know. you don't have to be who anti made you. you said you were with your brothers for a year after anti - who were you then? everyone can change if they want to. and you do. you might not be able to be the jameson jackson that we knew. but you can be someone that isn't anti's.
“I could tell you anything you want about who you were,” murmurs Max. “If that helps.”
“No,” says JJ softly. “They’re right. I can’t get that person back, but he was… he deserved better than what he got. Maybe I could still be someone who would make him proud someday. All he wanted was to live without being haunted by Anti.”
He stares down at his own hands. Scarred and worn.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Anonymous asked: No maybe not, but sometimes we have to fight for the things we want. Do you want to go back to Anti?
“I… I don’t believe I can get away from Anti,” admits Dapper quietly. “So there’s no point in hoping for anything else.”
“Listen to me,” begs Max. “They’re right about fighting. And you, Jameson - you’re a fighter. You are a fighter. You’re ferocious. Don’t forget that. Here’s what I’m asking, JJ, here’s what I’m begging you for - ”
JJ looks up at him with his endless silver-blue eyes. And maybe it’s true that when they met at first all those years ago, Max had only loved him because he loved Jackie. But time went on and Max loved JJ too - creative, talented JJ, wild, fierce JJ, sincere, warm JJ, and the others too, his friends, the only family he had left after his father died, the people who comforted him and held him through the worst time in his life. Sarcastic, intelligent Henrik, loving, boisterous Chase, and Jackie’s best friend Marvin, beautiful and loyal.
“If we get a chance to fight,” says Max. “If you get a chance to fight for your brothers to be happier than they are - take it, JJ. Take it. Don’t give up. They still love you. They still need you. Fight for the things that you want for your family.”
JJ looks at him. Tiger eyes. An old friend. Mostly forgotten. Family.
“Alright,” he says, very soft. “I’ll try.”
Max smiles at him, his eyes gleaming. JJ tries to smile back.
“Now stop worrying about me so much and get back in there with my brother,” says JJ, giving him a slight smack with his sketchpad. “If I have to watch you two making out with your eyes for five more minutes I’ll stab you both.”
“I don’t even know what to say to him now.”
“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out, aren’t you? I have many talents but romancing my own brothers is not one of them.”
“Thanks, JJ.”
“Don’t thank me. Max, I… just… get back in there. Thank you.”
He gives him one more smile and turns to return to Jackie.
Max closes the door behind him.
Red is sitting on the bed, turned away from him, his hands in his lap. His head downcast.
Max sits down beside him.
The light is getting low. Footsteps echo from the rooms above them.
Max puts his hand on Red’s.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
Ro shrugs, but doesn’t push him away.
“You remember how I said Dermot Kennedy was the only artist we could ever agree on?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I put on some music?”
“That’s fine, I guess.”
Max pulls out his phone and then a man is singing, and they’re sitting in the twilight together, hands together.
“Look, Ro,” he says. “I’ve been acting really friendly, really comfortable and familiar around you. I think I wanted you to just remember. That was what I kept hoping. The more we acted like we used to be, the more you would remember. So I offered to hold your hand, and I joked around with you about everything, and I made you big promises and offers without thinking about how it would sound to you. I’m sorry.”
“No,” whispers Ro. “Please don’t ever be sorry. I just… really thought you liked me. I’m sorry.”
“I do like you,” says Max.
“But you’re not attracted to me anymore. I’m damaged goods.”
“No, it’s not that either,” cries Max, with a perhaps a little too much intensity, and it sits awkwardly in the air for a moment, and then Red snorts and they’re both giggling, faces red, turned towards each other in the twilight.
“You think I’m hot shit, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Jackie, you’re gorgeous.”
“I am? Look at you! Besides, I’m coated in all these fucking scars and I’m just kind of a disaster all around.”
“You look incredible. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” murmurs Red, turning away, a little embarrassed now. “But then I don’t understand why you didn’t - ”
“Jackie,” says Max, exasperated. “You can’t have thought that was healthy.”
“I just wanted - I want you to know I - I appreciate what you’ve done, and I - ”
“I don’t want you to sleep with me as payment. You don’t owe me anything at all. And you should never feel like you owe anyone your body, no matter what they do or say to you.”
Ro’s eyes are swimming with tears. At last, he’s looking up at Max. His fingers enclose around Max’s own.
“I just don’t… want you to leave.”
“You don’t have to have sex with me to make me stay. You’ve been through a lot, Jackie. Not to tell you what to do, but I don’t think it’s a good time for either of us to be doing something like that. You shouldn’t have to feel like you belong to somebody, and honestly it scares me that I feel like you would have let me do just about anything to you whether you liked it or not. You deserve better. I won’t go. I’m here, Jackie. I’m here. This - ” He squeezes their joint hands. “This is more than enough for me. I’d be here if you just wanted to be friends. If you just wanted to go real slow. And that’s what I wanted to tell you. Here, come on.”
Ro allows Max to lead him to his feet.
“Dance with me?” he asks.
Ro blushes, but he can’t keep back a smile. “You cute bastard,” he grumbles, taking Max’s hand, and Max laughs and puts his free hand on his waist, and comes close to him, and then they’re swaying, quiet, in the twilight.
“I don’t need you to remember me and then suddenly have everything go back to what it was,” whispers Max, setting his head down against his shoulder. “It was wrong of me to just expect things to be the same. You don’t have to be the same as you were. We don’t have to be the same. In fact, if you never want to be with me again, that’s okay. We can just be friends and I will never hold it against you. But if you want to try something, someday, when you’ve had more time to recover…”
Red cannot remember the last time he listened to music casually. Certainly he cannot remember the last time he listened to music that made his heart swell like this. He can’t remember dancing, and he can’t remember dancing with someone he likes as much as Max, and he can’t remember the last time someone held him so gently and just rocked with him. Max’s warm waist beneath his fingers. Max’s warm hand in his own.
aether-mae asked: Hey Jackie, antis possessed blue and it’s given him access to blues powers without the physical damage on him, even though blues already very sick and stressed to say the least. Best thing is get to doc and prepare for his inevitable attack (and likely massacre of many more magicians, as he did just earlier).
The beep of the camera startles them both and they laugh, drawing away from each other, or trying to, though their hands seem to keep coming back together, and their eyes keep meeting and darkening, and they seem to move like they’re on the same pathway, both reaching out for you. But the laughter dissipates. Reality comes back.
“Oh, no,” breathes Ro, touching his hair. “No, not that.”
Max stares down at him, horrified. “Can he do that? Posses someone?”
Ro bites down hard on his lip, his eyes closing. He nods.
Max sits down on the bed. Ro sets you gently down on the desk and turns away.
“I’m sorry,” says Max shakily. “If I had known how badly off Marv was…”
Ro looks back at him, his eyes red, and Max already knows what he will say before he says it.
“I’m not sure I can leave them behind,” he croaks.
“So they’ll come with us,” says Max. “We’ll get Henrik tomorrow and we’ll talk. We’ll find a way. We have to.”
But this - this seems a thing impossible.
Then again, Max being in love with him seemed impossible too.
“I don’t know what to do,” whispers Ro. “I feel torn between two parts of myself. I still love Anti. But I know he will never let us all go. And if he stays… he’ll keep hurting us. It’s who he is. We can’t be with him anymore, but I don’t know how to go. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow.”
Max gets up and holds his hand. “Well,” he says. “Whatever happens, I’m with you. Okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. No matter what it takes.”
Red means to go back to Dapper. To tell him the news. To look after him.
He ends up falling asleep in Max’s arms. His dark head is buried against Jackie’s collarbone. They hold each other. Dermot Kennedy plays on repeat.
He doesn’t know what will happen.
But there are things worth hoping for.
And, likewise, there are things worth going to war.
…………..
All too soon - all too soon - Dapper is shaking him awake.
“Wha - Dap?”
“Jackie,” signs Dapper, his hands trembling. “I can feel him. Anti. Coming to get me. He’s not far now. He’s not far.”
---------------
cest-mellow asked: hey magicians!! anti may not be far away now, and he’s possessed marvin so he’s at FULL capacity power right now!! and marvin could be seriously hurt in this!!
“You should stay here,” says Nina. “If Anti is close.”
“No,” says Henrik gently.
He’s made up his mind.
“Or we could go with you.” Genesis moves forward to grab his shoulder, squeezing tight, imploring him to listen to her. “You don’t have to be alone.”
“I won’t be.”
He’s going to go to Red and Dapper. From there, what happens will happen. But in the end, they’re the only ones who are going to be able to choose whether they stay with Anti or some day go, and he isn’t willing to watch more magicians die for him to feel safer for ten more minutes than he would otherwise.
He went to the mountain one more time to pick flowers and bring them to Christofer. To Jose. Blessed their memory. Thank you for everything.
“I just want to see my brothers again,” he says honestly. “Blue is hurt. I need to be with them.”
“Henrik,” protests Hermann, but before he can say anything more, Emmanuela is there.
“He’s decided,” she cuts him off. “It’s time to let him go.”
Hermann lets out a full-blown groan, pacing in the garden in front of the chapel, plucking at his cross, and Henrik can only smile at him.
He didn’t sleep last night. Too much to think about. Too much future ahead of him.
“Can’t I at least take you to the market?” asks Hermann miserably.
“Ask your mom,” answers Henrik, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He has all of his things and everything retrieved from their car. He’s ready to go.
“Yes, I think he should go with you if he comes right back,” agrees Emmanuela.
Henrik grins and hefts you up, holding you firmly in his weary hands.
“Any last words for the magicians?” he asks. “It’s about time to go.”
cest-mellow asked: magicians, trick has been hypnotized to the point of being endlessly loyal to anti so he won’t be afraid to use his gun on you guys! i’m so sorry henrik :( also we’ll miss you !!
“He wouldn’t ever shoot you, would he?” asks JP.
“I don’t… think so.”
Nina puts a protective hand on her stomach and looks around at her friends, who look back with worry. Emmanuela, however, remains calm, remains sure.
“We know the fights we step up to,” she says. “If you called on us, we would not stay away. We would come to protect you, Henrik.”
He turns away, closing his eyes for a moment. It isn’t what he wants. He thinks to see one of them die would near kill him.
“Alright,” says Emmanuela. “Alright. Then you must have your presents, come.”
He blinks. “My presents?”
“I told you I’d get you weapons, right?” she says. “Protection?”
She holds up a trio of identical necklaces.
Strong brown bands hold one shining black stone each, carved into the image of a raven. Astonished, Henrik reaches out to touch one of the tiny black bodies, and finds it warm to the touch.
“Talismans,” says Emmanuela. “For you. One from three of us.”
“Wait,” he protests. “I thought magic power could only be transferred if you were dying.”
She chuckles. “You did do your reading while you were here. Permanently, yes, theft and Gift of Being can only happen if someone is dying or willing to die to hand the power over. Hermann’s necklace, for example.”
Hermann grips his crucifix. “My father gave it to me in his last days,” he says. “His power of invisibility is with me as long as I wear it.”
“But these are talismans, not relics,” says Emmanuela. “They’re only little pieces of power, and only borrowed. When you use them, the power will come back to us.”
“Three of you were willing to give that up for me?” asks Henrik, still stuck staring at them. You see his fingers curling tentatively in and out, as though afraid to touch them. It’s too much of a gift.
“More of us wanted to!” cries Genesis. “Emmanuela said I couldn’t because transportation magic is too fickle…”
“And apparently I’m ‘too recently stabbed,’” grumbles Hermann.
“If I had power, it would be yours,” says Nina.
“And if you weren’t seven months pregnant,” protests JP.
“Oh, yeah, that.”
“But JP,” says Henrik. “You…?”
JP grins back at him.
“Figured you should have a little piece of me to take with you,” he says. “Do you remember what my power is?”
Anonymous asked: Can you destroy the gun with your magic?
“There’s an idea,” says Henrik.
“That’s a small thing for gifts like this!” says Nina. “They’re only for emergencies. So maybe, yes, but this magic isn’t really… well, JP, go ahead and explain! He’s so dramatic.”
“Haha, fine!” JP beams up at Henrik and takes one of the necklaces from Emmanuela when she offers it to him. “I can turn people into animals. I was reluctant to give it - not because I don’t think you should have it - but because this power has always frightened me. The first person I turned… I never found a way to turn back.”
There’s a small, tense silence.
“But he deserved it,” adds Nina bitterly, putting her hand down on her husband’s shoulder. JP smiles gently.
“As much as a person can. But this talisman won’t do that, or at least not permanently. Here, maybe I can - ”
He begins to push himself out of his wheelchair on trembling limbs, but Henrik shakes his head quickly and, without hesitation, falls to his knees in front of his friend. JP smiles at him and reaches out to touch the side of his head fondly.
“Do you want this?” he asks. “You won’t be able to take it off until you need it.”
“I need all the help I can get, I think,” says Henrik. “And I trust you. Entirely.”
JP beams and unclasps the necklace gently, reaching out to clasp it around Henrik’s neck. It falls to the middle of his chest.
“When you need this power,” says JP. “You can unclasp it and you will turn into… something. I don’t know what, I’m sorry. It changes for every person. Or, if you want to use it for someone else, you take it off and - as quick as you can - you put it on them instead. Do you understand?”
“It will really turn me or someone into an animal?”
“Should last for… well. I really don’t know. Not longer than a day. Not shorter than an hour. It might depend on the animal.”
Henrik touches the black bird on his chest. “Thank you, JP. For everything.”
“Of course, amigo, of course.”
Henrik gets up on one knee to embrace him. JP hugs him back firmly, throwing his arms around him.
Anonymous asked: Can you destroy the gun with your magic?
“There’s an idea,” says Henrik.
“That’s a small thing for gifts like this!” says Nina. “They’re only for emergencies. So maybe, yes, but this magic isn’t really… well, JP, go ahead and explain! He’s so dramatic.”
“Haha, fine!” JP beams up at Henrik and takes one of the necklaces from Emmanuela when she offers it to him. “I can turn people into animals. I was reluctant to give it - not because I don’t think you should have it - but because this power has always frightened me. The first person I turned… I never found a way to turn back.”
There’s a small, tense silence.
“But he deserved it,” adds Nina bitterly, putting her hand down on her husband’s shoulder. JP smiles gently.
“As much as a person can. But this talisman won’t do that, or at least not permanently. Here, maybe I can - ”
He begins to push himself out of his wheelchair on trembling limbs, but Henrik shakes his head quickly and, without hesitation, falls to his knees in front of his friend. JP smiles at him and reaches out to touch the side of his head fondly.
“Do you want this?” he asks. “You won’t be able to take it off until you need it.”
“I need all the help I can get, I think,” says Henrik. “And I trust you. Entirely.”
JP beams and unclasps the necklace gently, reaching out to clasp it around Henrik’s neck. It falls to the middle of his chest.
“When you need this power,” says JP. “You can unclasp it and you will turn into… something. I don’t know what, I’m sorry. It changes for every person. Or, if you want to use it for someone else, you take it off and - as quick as you can - you put it on them instead. Do you understand?”
“It will really turn me or someone into an animal?”
“Should last for… well. I really don’t know. Not longer than a day. Not shorter than an hour. It might depend on the animal.”
Henrik touches the black bird on his chest. “Thank you, JP. For everything.”
“Of course, amigo, of course.”
Henrik gets up on one knee to embrace him. JP hugs him back firmly, throwing his arms around him.
hurricael asked: Wait!! So!! With the necklace thing!! You can put it on Blue/Anti!!! 'Cause I think I remember that he absolutely hates being an animal, so he'd probably leave Blue, and then you can get Blue away so Anti can't possess him again!!
“That… that could work,” says Henrik. “Though, hell, I can only assume that would be momentarily terrifying for Blue.”
“There’s something I want to say first,” interrupts Emmanuela, reaching out a hand to beckon him closer. “Henrik, come here for a moment.”
He moves towards her obediently and she draws him and you gently in, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Henrik,” she says. “Are you ready to fight when you go?”
“Yes,” he says, very soft.
“Are you ready to kill the monster?”
His eyes fall to the ground. His mouth goes still. He says nothing.
“You’re not,” she says. “But I fear that is what you will have to be ready to do before you are permanently free of him. Yes?”
He can’t look up at her. She presses down gently on his shoulder.
“Henrik,” she says, again his name, the secret name, the name like a promise of the person he was once and could be again. “You may use JP’s present however you like and whenever you like. To keep yourself safe. To keep your family safe. To punish the monster. But this one - from me - ”
She holds up a second black bird necklace.
“You use this,” she says, her dark eyes gleaming like the shine on her long, thick hair. “The day you are ready to watch Anti die.”
She puts it around his neck. Henrik swallows and accepts it, nodding.
“Yes, Emmanuela,” he says.
“A gift of light,” she says. “You will be able to wield it or give it to one of your warrior brothers to wield. It will burn him terribly - or perhaps serve as a purifier for someone with enough of his shadow inside of them. Do not take it off until you are ready to use it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he says again. “Yes, Emmanuela.”
He trusts her too.
bupine asked: henrik, do you remember anti's dislike for animals? that magic could be useful for something, hopefully. also, goodbye, magicians! we can't thank you enough for all you've done. and no matter what happens next, i don't think any of us will forget this.
“He would really hate that, wouldn’t he?” mumbles Henrik, picking at Emmanuela’s necklace, dropping down to hang between his breasts. “I could stop him from hurting one of the others… I could blackmail him, I could… I could really affect him. For once in my life. I have more than just words and a handgun.”
He blinks and then registers the rest of the message, straightening up to look around. Scattered throughout the little garden where he has made music, played games, read so many books looking for help, talked about everything that scares him and everything that makes him hope, found friends and peace and health and safety, if only for a little while - scattered throughout the garden are people who have been his family when he needed them.
“I,” he begins uncertainly. “I. I am not a sentimental man.”
JP smiles at him. Genesis tries to appear unaffected. Nina stares up at the sky and Hermann bites a trembling lip.
“Nor have I felt close to my religion in a long time,” he laughs, pulling at his necklaces. “But I feel I was like Jonah in the stomach of the whale, and you were what God sent to drag me out of the depths.”
Genesis takes a step closer to him.
Wraps her arms around him.
He feels the soft scars of her arms. Smells the flowered scent of her.
“Bitch,” she grumbles.
“Motherfucker,” he whispers back.
“Who’s going to teach me swears in different languages now?” she says sadly.
“You’ll figure it out, my friend.”
She buries her face in his hair for a second. “Bye, Henrik.”
“Bye, Genesis. Thank you.”
“You’ll tell us when you get free?” asks Nina, stepping up to him. “Won’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” he says. “Maybe someday I can come see you again. Bring Trick. Chase.”
“Meet the baby,” she says, patting her stomach.
“You’re going to name it after me, right?”
“I’d die first.”
He laughs and embraces her too.
Hermann stands away from the rest of them, sniffling, but Henrik only smiles. He’ll have a chance to say goodbye to him too when he reaches the market. There’s time. There’s time. There has to be.
Anonymous asked: What's the plan, Henrik? Are you and them going to meet up today?
“Yes,” says Henrik. “I’ve been texting with Red. He doesn’t sound quite like himself, but… in a good way. I’ll meet him and Dapper at the marketplace. From there, we figure it out. He talks about going somewhere safe. I think he has money, food, such and such. He must because he seems so happy. Hermann will walk with me to the market and then… I’ll go.”
He turns to smile at the younger man.
“Hold on, though, hold on,” says Genesis. “You got one necklace is left! Who that’s from, mama?”
“Well,” says Emmanuela, holding the last necklace. “That might be something of an issue.”
“What do you mean?” asks Henrik.
“Henrik,” she says. “I think this necklace is the most important one we can give you. It is not for one-time use. It is your shield. Your protection. Let me explain first.”
“What does it do?”
“It will stop the monster,” she says. “From getting in your head again.”
Henrik’s eyes widen.
He - he has to have that.
That changes everything.
If Anti can’t get in his head - if Anti can’t make him doubt himself - if Anti can’t possess or hypnotize or mind control him -
He has to have that.
Maybe he could win, with that. Everything feels much more real and certain all of a sudden. He’s stepping towards Emmanuela, fixed on that necklace, his heart pounding.
“It can do all that?”
“It should last you for more than a month, maybe two,” she says softly. “I fear that if you are not free by then, he will worm back into your head and erase all your progress, and then… I don’t know. This could be your only chance, Henrik. Do you understand? Within two months, Henrik - Anti must be dead. For you and all your brothers. Within two months, be free.”
His fingers tremble as he touches the talisman.
Within two months -
Freedom.
Anonymous asked: Red, Dap, what's going on on your end?
Anxiety.
“Dap. Dapper, look at me. You have to calm down.”
Paranoia.
“Should we not take him? He’s so freaked out. Buddy, are you sure it’s not a delusion?”
Anti is coming. Anti is close. Anti is going to put him back in his room.
Dapper leans over to vomit for the third time today, his whole body shaking. Red holds up a plastic bag for him and rubs his back as he’s sick, sitting with him in the shade of a cathedral not far from the marketplace. Max comes back from a vendor with a cool Inca Cola and Red presses it to Dapper’s reddened cheeks and forehead, shielding him from view until he’s ready to lean back, panting.
“Are you hallucinating? Delusional?” asks Red.
“Yes,” groan Dapper’s hands. “But I can tell the difference. Red. Please just leave me behind and get Dok and go. I can’t take this. I just want to go back to my master.”
“He’s the one making you so scared!”
“He can make it stop, too. Please… you might be able to get away if Anti at least had me.”
“Don’t say that,” murmurs Ro. He and Max exchange helpless glances over his head. “Let’s just get to Dok, okay? I bet you’ll feel better when you see him.”
aether-mae asked: I’m sorry JJ but killing Anti is your only way out of this. He may have been your whole life, but it’s a miserable life that’s choking you, and killing that life is the only way to create a new one that you can make for yourself. No one to hunt you down, no one to run from. You can’t hide from this anymore, or be passive any longer. Anti taught you to wield that knife, now show him what it’s for
“No, please,” sobs Dapper, curling in on himself. “No, no, don’t say that, I don’t want him dead, I need to see him, he raised me, I have to - I have to - ”
“Breathe, breathe,” begs Red. “Dapper, please, bud.”
“Kill Anti? I’d be so lost, I can’t, I can’t… took me apart, put me back together, puppets, my little puppet box, my toys, just playthings, we’re always playing games but not the kind I like to play, Max played with me - ”
“He’s getting manic,” warns Max.
“Dap, buddy, listen, you don’t have to think about Anti right now. Let’s just - fuck’s sake, where the hell is Henrik? I hope he comes soon.”
cest-mellow asked: take a deep breath, dapper. focus on red and dok, are you excited to see him again? you can show him your bear and henrik can show you the pretty things hes gotten while visiting the magicians. he’s got things from the car, too!
Dapper pauses, rubbing at his face.
“Things from the car? My old clothes from the car? So Anti will be less mad at me?”
He combs gently at his over-grown hair, trying to push it back into some semblance of neatness. “Yes, I want my bear, too, oh. Where did I put him?”
Red gets off his backpack and pulls the bear out, handing it over. Dapper stares down at it on his lap, calming a little.
“Its eyes are the wrong color.”
“Think you’re seeing things, lil bro,” says Red gently.
“Oh. Yes. You know, I would like Dok, but also Blue, I would like.”
“He’s not quite himself right now.”
“We rarely are,” agrees Dapper, reaching down to brush his hands over the alpaca fur of his bear.
Anonymous asked: Dapper? It's okay buddy, you don't need to think about that right at this moment if you don't want to. Dok's gonna be here soon, if you need something good to focus on.
“Come on,” suggests Max, reaching out to help Red to his feet, who pulls Dap up after them. “We can walk around the market and look for him. We’ll be ready when he gets here.”
“You can look at the other bears, too.”
“Oh, is this where you got that?” grins Max.
“Yeah, haha, we got most of our Christmas shopping done here this year. Neat little place. Come on, buddy, we’ll wander around for a while. Distract ourselves.”
Dapper takes his hand and follows after him.
Anonymous asked: Hey Ro! Are you excited to see Dok?
Ro breathes out a soft, shaky sigh. “I am, yeah. It’s just… I was kind of being a jerk last time we saw each other. I hope he’s not angry or scared of me or something. I think I owe him an apology.
“You guys are helping him make his way over here, right? Tying up any loose ends and ready to go?”
Anonymous asked: I don't think he's mad at you, or scared of you. He didn't seem that way; from what I can tell, he just wants to see you and Dapper again.
Red relaxes, looking down at you gratefully.
“People… are way too nice to me,” he laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No one seems to care about all the times I’ve fucked up. I kind of want someone to just beat me to hell, punish me for it. Like that would make it right. I know it wouldn’t, it’s just… ha. I don’t know. I don’t really deserve anyone’s forgiveness.”
Anonymous asked: Sometimes we need to be loved rather than hurt to learn our lesson y’know? It’ll be okay, Ro :)
“Yeah,” laughs Ro softly. “Yeah… weird how that can be harder than just taking the punishment, huh?”
Anonymous asked: I'm not going to say you haven't made mistakes, even bad ones. But I heard somewhere that one of the biggest indicators of whether you can really forgive someone is whether they're trying to change. And from what I've seen of you, you are.
Red looks at Dapper beside him, his little brother’s eyes watching the stalls and people as they pass, and Max ahead of them, guarding them, his hair glowing gold in the sunlight.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I am. There are things worth changing for. And people who make me feel like I can.”
spicydanhowell asked: are you bringing the stuff from the car, hen? heading out?
“Right, right,” says Henrik. “Yes, I… I have to get going, don’t I? Thank you. Yes, I have all the stuff from the car in my backpack.”
If you don’t question who’s giving him the third necklace, he isn’t going to bother to either. He doesn’t want to think about it anyway, as he has an inkling of who it might be from. Emmanuela places it around his throat and it falls down to his clavicle, so the necklaces make a three-star constellation from his collarbone to his breasts. The design of the raven is lean and
“Thank you,” he says. “For everything. For the things you did do. And for the things you would have done if you could have. If I had asked you.”
“If you ever need anything,” she answers.
“Yes.” He knows what she means.
“Goodbye, Henrik.”
He takes her out-stretched hand and shakes it. Takes in one more look of the Raven Queen.
“Goodbye, Emmanuela.”
He turns back to Hermann, staring sadly at him from the corner.
“Come on,” he laughs, reaching out for him, and Hermann takes his hand. “Stop sulking. It’s time to go.”
“Okay,” says Hermann wearily. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the marketplace.”
“Thank you.”
The old convent looks down at him one more time in return. In his mind, he says goodbye to the little room with the open windows, goodbye to the garden and the cool dark chapel, goodbye to the dining room and the piano and the forest where he remembered his name.
Hermann whispers a spell to move them through the convent’s protection, and they reflect through the mirror and re-appear into the world. Cars rush around them. Buildings tower above and chatter with noise. The streets are swarmed with people.
Time to see his family again.
Henrik and Hermann head towards the market by way of the cathedral.
“Leave me here,” says Henrik softly, stopping by the gate. “Go say a prayer for me. Same God.”
Hermann’s eyes water and overflow. He stares at him, not letting go of his hand.
“I don’t want you to have to go,” he says, holding on to his crucifix. “Stay with us. We can keep you safe.”
“I have to go,” answers Henrik. “I have to be with my brothers.”
“Amigo,” mumbles Hermann, and leans in to hug him, close, close. “Hermano.”
Henrik laughs softly, trying to diffuse his own grief. His hands come up to wrap around Hermann’s back and they hold each other there in front of the church. The bells are ringing. Six in the evening.
You can barely make out the last words they offer each other before parting, but they’re there, soft in the evening light.
“Be safe, medico. Take care of your brothers. I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough to save them.”
“You did everything. More than you know. Thank you for making me believe there were kind people in the world.”
He was nothing but a strange man following them home from the shops, once. Henrik laughs and squeezes him closer for a moment more. Hermann kisses both his cheeks.
“Goodbye,” says Henrik. “Get home before Anti comes.”
Hermann nods and waves at you too with a soft, fond, sad smile. And then he disappears.
“Gone without a trace,” whispers Hermann, and Henrik laughs, his hands falling away from the invisible body of his friend, turning to go find his brothers.
—————
Red and Dapper and Max make patient circles around the marketplace. The crowds are dying down now as the tourists move off to dinner and evening entertainment, swarming out of the stalls and down the busy streets.
“You could get me another bear,” suggests Dapper, examining a stand full of alpaca-fur stuffies.
Ro laughs, but he’s considering it.
“We’ll see how much time we have,” he chuckles. “We - oh. Oh.”
Dok.
Standing in the entryway of the marketplace, holding to the straps of his backpack. Staring around through new glasses.
Red has never seen him looking so… calm. Healthy. Peaceful.
“Dok,” signs Dapper. “Dok!”
Max’s hand brushes across Red’s back. “I’ll give you three a minute,” he smiles, turning to disappear into the dispersing crowd, finding another stall to look at. Red is already racing forward.
“Dok!” he shouts.
His brother looks up.
Red comes to a halt before him, panting.
“Dok,” he repeats lamely, suddenly unsure of himself, and Dok stares back, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide and delighted.
“Red,” he says. “I - ”
Dapper crashes into his brother and engulfs him in a hug. Dok lets out a deep laugh, his whole chest shaking with it, and swings Dapper in a circle, clutching him to his body. Dok murmurs love and reassurances at him, fussing over him as Dapper nuzzles forcefully into his cheek and neck and chest, hugging him tight, tight, breathing in the smell of him, his feet lifted off the ground by Dok’s grip.
“My poor darling, my poor love,” breathes Dok, rocking him. “You have been without your medication, you have been without so much. I can fix one problem at least. Here. I went back up to the mountain where we were living. The medication was still there, here…”
From his backpack, he pulls a little bottle of pills. Dapper sobs, his hands wrapping desperately around his Haldol at last, and Dok helps him take just a half pill to begin with, hugging him again as he swallows it and cries.
“It will take some days before it starts helping,” murmurs Dok.
“I needed you as much as the medicine,” cry Dapper’s hands, clinging to Dok. “Big brother looks after me.”
“Red was kind to you, wasn’t he?”
The question lances through Red’s chest, but he knows he deserves it. He swallows nervously, shifting on his feet.
“He figured it out,” answers Dapper benevolently, stepping slightly back from Dok at last.
Red and Dok stare at each other.
“We should, uh. Get off to the side a little, I suppose.” Red steps back and forth, back and forth. “Have a little privacy and we can talk - ”
Henrik hugs him.
“Little brother,” whispers Jackie, and hugs him back.
“It’s so good to see you… I didn’t know if anyone was dead or alive, I didn’t know if you were safe or had money, I didn’t know if you were being taken care of…”
“I was so scared those magicians would hurt you.”
“And you and Dapper hand-cuffed and fleeing, and all of us apart, and I didn’t know if they were enemies or friends at first.”
“I just wanted all of us to be back together, even now I can’t help but think… Dok, listen, I - I was being a terrible brother, last time we saw each other. Forgive me.”
Dok touches his beard, drawing back to look at him.
“It’s forgotten,” he answers, soft and earnest. “It’s forgiven. We’re together. That’s all that matters. I was so worried.”
Ro’s eyes water, his heart aching, but in a good way. He pulls Henrik back into a hug. “We’re okay, Dok. We’re okay.”
“You must have stolen and stolen,” he worries, brushing at his beard. “Red, do we need to hide?”
“We might yet. But I didn’t have to steal nearly as much as I would have. There’s someone you should meet.”
Red turns around, looking for Max in the crowd.
“Where did he go?” he murmurs.
“To give us some privacy,” answers Dapper. “Probably looking at shops or something. He must be - ”
A woman screams aloud.
Red is turning, looking for him, and the crowd parts like a Red Sea, and a wave of commotion leaves Red feeling numb and distant, people rushing past him, a second scream, a third, calls for the police, the market emptying, vendors leaping their stalls to escape, and Red in the middle of it, too suddenly over-stimulated to meltdown, stepping back towards the place where he last saw him.
And there is Max, in the dirt, bleeding from the heart.
Black-crimson ink from his chest.
Open, blinded tiger eyes.
Red hears Dok give a cry and Dapper a shrill warning whistle. Just meters away, standing over the corpse, Red’s twin stands tilted on a cane, his eyes, green and blue, shining coldly in the evening light.
“My brothers,” says Anti, dropping the bloodied knife to hold out a hand instead, tears welling in his eyes. “Oh, oh, my brothers. I was so, so worried. But here we are again. Here we are again. I will make everything right.”
Ro hears himself screaming.
cest-mellow asked: jj can you turn it back??? are you healthy enough???? we can’t lose max!!!!
Red turns to him.
“Jameson,” he croaks. “Jameson. Please. Oh, God. Please.”
Dapper is clinging to Dok’s shirt, standing in front of him, protecting him. You can hear Dapper’s breath hiccuping, his eyes fixed, with pupils blown, on Anti.
But even now he cannot stand to watch this happen.
Too many innocent lives. Too many innocent lives.
Dapper takes his clock from his pocket.
You see Anti’s eyes widen furiously. “Dapper!” he calls. “Don’t you d
The post where Hermann and Henrik say goodbye was reblogged with this addition:
Dapper is in the marketplace.
Clinging to Red with one hand.
To Max’s backpack with the other.
He leans forward to throw up for the fourth time that day, his eyes flickering with silver light, crying as Max and Ro converge on him in worried murmurs and cool drinks pressed to his head, feeling their heartbeats through his hands.
Anonymous asked: Turn back time Dapper do it now!!!
“What did you have to turn back?” Red and Max hurry him towards a shaded corner of the markets, Red holding him close to his chest. “Dap, are you okay, is everything okay? It was just for something on the other side of the world like last time, right? We’re okay?”
Dapper tries to breathe, shivering. He feels terribly dizzy.
Max’s corpse is in front of him again and he jumps, terrified -
No, no, just a hallucination. Just a hallucination. Keep it together, Dap! They’re okay for now.
“Have to run, or fight, or convince him not to hurt him, or, or… I don’t know what to do,” stammer Dapper’s hands. “Dok is coming. Near the entrance.”
Anonymous asked: Trick and Anti are here, Ro! Keep Max close at hand and don’t let him go alone! Trick has a gun and he’s been hypnotized and he is willing to shoot anyone who will take his brothers away!
“He’ll hurt Max,” warns Dapper, clinging to Ro’s sleeve. “I told you if he was here when Anti came, he would die. Leave me, I’ll be enough to distract Anti. Go.”
“No,” cries Red viciously, though you can see a new terror in his eyes, his head swiveling around the marketplace. “No. Max, stay here, stay with us.”
“I’m here,” answers Max softly, trying to calm Red’s hands as they paw desperately at him, as though trying to reassure him that Max is still there. “I’m with you. We have to keep each other safe. Watch out for Anti. I think we should probably get Dok and run.”
“Do we even have time for that?” asks Red. “He’s already here. I don’t know how close.”
Anonymous asked: Henrik, where's the closest entrance to the marketplace? Do you know what cardinal direction it is from the center? Wait there, we'll get the others to come to you
Henrik pauses, blinking at you. “I’m almost to the south entrance,” he says. “Did the pigs find us or something? I’m ready to run.”
Anonymous asked: Red, Anti is here, he’s going to kill max, that’s why Dap turned back time!!
“I can’t - I can’t - ”
If Red didn’t panic when he saw Max’s body, he is beginning to now.
“Can’t watch you die. I can’t watch you die. Max, I - ”
“I’m here,” repeats Max, steady as a seafarer, clutching his hands when they reach out to touch him. “Jackie, I am right here. I’m with you. Let’s worry about what will be, not what was.”
Red settles slightly, letting out a slow breath, summoning ferocity to replace the fear. He has to protect them both. All of them. His little brothers. His… whatever Max is. His Max. That’s his job. That’s all that matters.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” says Red, and Max looks back at him, and his eyes are deep and endless, and his mouth is soft and -
“Can we fucking focus?” asks Dapper.
“Right, right. Okay, let me think.”
Anonymous asked: All of you, Anti is coming to the market. He'll be here in maybe five minutes, probably a lot sooner. He will kill you first, Max. You all need to decide right now: are you running? Or are you going back to him?
“Leave me with Anti,” repeats Dapper, stepping forward.
“No!” Ro repeats right back. “No, you’re coming with us! We’ll go away. We can try reconnecting with Anti when we’ve had some time and we know he’s not going to fucking murder us!”
“I don’t want to go.” Dapper’s eyes are pained and wet but so determined it stops Ro in his tracks. “I want to want to go, but I don’t want to go.”
You can see Max trying to understand what he’s saying, with limited success.
“Dapper,” signs back Ro. “I need to take care of you. That’s my job. I have to make sure you don’t faint too much upstairs and that you get enough food and that Anti lets you have the right dose of medicine and - ”
“You don’t always have to be my suffering savior, my love.”
“He will hurt you. He has always hurt you. And I have so often, just - just let it happen.”
“I can’t get away today, Red. I just can’t. He won’t let me. If you two could go, at least you would be free. Or if you won’t let me go entirely, just let me go to Anti this time around and I’ll reverse it when I know what the best option is.”
“You’re not well,” protests Red. “You can’t reverse so much, Dapper, you’re going to make yourself snap or have a psychotic break or get really ill or something. I can’t put you on the line like that.”
“I will do what I have to to protect you,” answers Dapper fiercely. “You and the person you love.”
Red’s breath hitches and he shakes his head, turning to you and Max.
“What do you think? Should I just… fuck. Should I leave him behind? Just for one test run? Maybe? Or run off with him? Don’t look at me like that, Dapper, I’m making this decision executively. Don’t argue.”
Anonymous asked: Dapper, no. Anti has Blue's magic and can use it fully; the only option is to run. With them. I don't think you should risk the possibility that he controls, or partially controls, your time powers again. It might do more harm than good.
“Come on,” says Ro, immediately convinced - really, he just needed the reassurance. “They’re definitely right. I’m playing the big brother card. Come on.”
Dapper squeezes his eyes shut, but doesn’t protest. In the end, however, if Max and Ro find a way to get away, he has no intention of going with them.
immabethehero asked: Henrik, Anti is here. He'll kill a good friend and ally of Jackie and Jameson. Keep a look out.
Henrik swears vehemently, his pupils shrinking with fear. He stands nervously outside the market entrance, plucking at his necklaces.
“That ‘friend’ should just go,” grumbles Henrik. “Anti will not kill the three of us, but an intruder… they should run while they can.”
But at least… if Anti is here, then Trick must be two.
Dok swallows and forces his hands to still, calming himself.
They’ll figure this out. Together. They have to.
Anonymous asked: Dapper, what is your plan? If you stay behind, what do you plan to have happen?
“What always happens,” says Dapper wearily.
“Settling?” mumbles Max.
“At least this way, I could be a distraction for the rest of you. And I could find out where Anti is and what he plans to do. He’ll catch me if I run.”
“Let’s just try,” pleads Max, already moving forward with Red. “Come on.”
spicydanhowell asked: jamie, you need to keep fighting to get away your brothers will never really be free if they have to live with the guilt of leaving you behind. besides.... henrik found out that nobody will ever be able to get anti out of their head until everyone does- if i remember correctly -so!! please? do what jackie says?
This seems to interrupt Dapper’s thoughts entirely. He stares at you and has to be grabbed by Red to keep heading through the marketplace.
“Everyone does?” he signs, bewildered. “They can never be free… if I’m still in Anti’s power?”
His eyes are watering. His hands shake.
“But… I’m never getting out of Anti’s power…”
cest-mellow asked: be on the lookout guys, keep max as close as you can!
“Yeah, keep me close as you can. I wish this were in a sexier context,” sighs Max.
Anonymous asked: Max, Ro, Dap, Henrik is waiting for you outside the South entrance to the market.
“You, uh… you look like you’re waiting for someone.”
Dok blinks.
Turns around.
Anti’s there, yes, waiting in a different place than where you saw him last time, but Dok barely even sees him. He’s background noise. Everything is.
“Trick,” he whispers.
His twin gives him the smallest, shakiest smile he’s ever seen.
Tears in his eyes.
“I - I - ”
Trick can’t speak. Dok can’t seem to manage a single word. They’re staring at each other, meters apart.
“Dok!” cries Red. “We need to go! We - oh. Oh.”
Anti is no longer background noise. Dok feels his heart tremble as Blue’s body steps past him, sifting through the crowd, smiling coldly up at the trio of them.
“What’s this?” he purrs, his cane striking the ground as he walks, one, two, three, one, two, three. “My loving older brother… my loving little brother… and oh, look. A slinking whore.”
Max’s eyes are shining black in the evening light. He tries to step forward but Ro snatches his hand, breathing hard.
“You’re Anti,” says Max, and despite the fear there is a horrible, agonized victory in his eyes, to have found him at last, to see him face-to-face. “I’m - ”
“I know who you are,” says Anti irritably, dismissively, picking at Blue’s nails. “The lucky fucking porkchop that managed to hide from me. Jackie’s little heart, oh! So romantic. I’d like to see yours, now, Mr. Deshmukh, seeing as you’ve bared my brother’s. Your heart, that is. In the palm of my hand.”
“Run,” signs Dapper.
“Dok,” croaks Red. “Trick. Blue.”
“Run!” repeats Dapper, shoving him forward. “Now!”
hurricael asked: You can. You were never as fully in his power as the others, it's just that instead of covering you it got tangled up. But you can come out of that, it'll just take work and time. And, also, everyone else; please hurry, we don't want you to get hurt
Dapper doesn’t know how to start believing that, but he does know that they need to go, now, or Max will die. And if that means running with him, then Dapper will run with him. He grabs Red’s head. Red is still holding Max. And then, through the crowd, they are racing away.
Anti rolls his eyes, flushed from the heat and the fatigue of his injuries and Blue’s body. He turns around and grabs Henrik, making him yelp with surprise. Anti turns his eyes to Trick.
“Get after them,” says Anti. “I’ll watch where they’re going through the cameras and catch up. As soon as you have them in your sights, you kill that stupid fucker trying to steal them away from us. Am I understood?”
Trick has Dok’s gun in the pocket of his coat.
“Yes, Anti. I understand.”
Anonymous asked: Henrik, remember what they gave you, you are protected and now it is your turn to fight back. Think smart and be careful!
Henrik is panting. He stares down at you for a second before Anti draws his attention back with a soft tug on his arm.
“Dok,” says Anti, stepping into his space.
Henrik stills as he knocks their heads gently together.
“Anti,” he pants back, staring up at his brother.
The abysses of Anti’s eyes darken and swirl slightly, boring into his own. Anti wraps him gently into a hug. Fuck, but he’s warm, and the slight electric touch of him is familiar, nostalgic - maybe even homey.
His little brother.
He wants to hold him, yes.
But not because of hypnosis.
“I was so worried,” whispers Anti, and goddamn, he sounds it. His eyes close for a moment and he lets Blue’s head sink down onto Henrik’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his waist. “After what I did to that girl - what I had Red do to that man - Henrik, I thought they’d kill you… I couldn’t find you… I missed you. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Anti,” Henrik repeats numbly, his chest aching. He remembers Emmanuela’s warning. The day you’re ready to kill him. The day you’re ready to see Anti die.
How is he ever going to be ready for that?
“You’re going to help me, aren’t you, love?” breathes Anti, looking up at him again, his eyes getting darker, darker. “You’ll go after Trick and help him catch that intruder, won’t you? Forget about whatever happened these last two weeks. My bruder. Still my good boy, aren’t you? Or you want to be, right? Prove yourself to me. Go fetch your brothers for me and let’s all be a family again.”
“Actually,” says Henrik, his voice stammering. “I think you should… not kill Red’s friend like a crazy person with no regards for human life.”
Anti blinks.
Henrik blinks back.
Anti stares at him.
“What,” he says, voice flat. “In the actual motherfuck.”
hurricael asked: Red Dapper Max turn around now. Anti is where Dok is and he's sending Trick after you. Trick is completely gone, you have to go. I'm sorry, I don't know if you can get Dok
“Fuck’s sake,” cries Red, pausing to look back. “He can’t use my little brother like that. Trick - I can’t - I can’t go, I can’t leave them, I - ”
“It’s a little late for that sort of deliberation,” spits Dapper. “Max is here! You have to find a way to protect him whether or not we’re going back to Anti.”
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know! I never make choices like this! I just press rewind on my powers until someone tells me the day turned out fine!”
“We could hide somewhere,” suggests Max.
Dapper clutches the camera protectively to his heart. “Anti can see us through these and I’m not letting them go.”
“I’ll stop Trick,” snaps Red, turning back into the crowd. “I’ve always been the better fighter. Keep going.”
“He has a gun!” cries Max, but Red isn’t listening, stalking forward for a sight of his brother. He won’t let Trick get the drop on them. He can’t protect Max from what he can’t see.
Anonymous asked: Trick, Trick, can you hear us? You intend to follow Anti's orders to kill the person who's Red's friend, is that correct?
“Yeah, I got it handled,” he promises, patting the place where a tiny camera is clipped to his collar. “I just want to get my family back. Don’t worry.”
Anonymous asked: Amazing how a few weeks of basic human rights can allow people to do things like form opinions and develop relationships.
“You cut that shit out,” spits Anti. “Forming opinions and developing relationships is disgusting.”
And then -
Oh, fuck’s sake.
Dok can’t help it. He’s laughing.
“You’re so stupid,” he laughs.
He’s laughing hard. He’s laughing hard. There’s tears in his eyes. He’s crying.
“You’re so stupid!” he repeats, slamming his fist down against Anti’s chest, once, twice, all but collapsing into him, sobs tearing from his throat. “Why can’t you just be my brother? Why are you doing this? Red’s only going to hate you more! Why are you so horrible to me? I’ve been so, so good. I’ve always been so good. Even when my head was clear! And you still just treat me like a puppet.”
Anti lets him crash against his shoulder, nearly toppling them both. He wraps his arms uncertainly around Dok.
And then spots the necklaces hanging from his throat.
“Oh, is that the problem?”
He reaches out to tear them off, but as soon as his fingers touch the talismans, he’s jerking back with a cry on his lips, clutching at his burned hands.
“Fuck it!” shouts Anti, drawing attention now, people glancing over to see what all the English yelling is about. “Take those off right now!”
“No,” says Henrik softly.
“Dok, I swear on all that you once thought was holy - ”
“You wouldn’t like it if I did anyway,” says Henrik. “There’s a curse inside them. I won’t unclasp them til I need them.”
Anti swears aloud, rolling his eyes, panting from working Blue’s body too hard.
“Just shut up and come on, then,” he hisses, grabbing Dok’s hand and yanking him to his side. “We’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”
Anonymous asked: Trick I don’t think killing him will get your family back....I don’t think Ro would ever forgive you if you did that. Come on Trick don’t do this please? It’s wrong to kill him just because Anti said so and you know it!
Trick bites down hard on his lip for a moment, panting as he runs. He shakes his head like he’s trying to get you off him.
“I - I didn’t kill that girl when Anti asked me to,” he says. “It seemed wrong then, but it wasn’t! If I had killed her, she never would have taken Dok away from me! Anti knows what’s best.”
“Trick,” comes a commanding, familiar voice. “Stop, don’t come closer.”
Trick sees Red’s face in the crowd and a pained gasp tears out of his throat, his eyes watering as, after all this time, he realizes he must greet his brother in a battle. Red and Trick collide, Dok’s gun steady in the space between them.
“I’ll fucking shoot you, Red,” warns Trick, burying it against his stomach even as Red gets a grip on his hair. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Why the hell do you sound Irish?”
“Just shut up and move!”
cest-mellow asked: max, be careful, trick was ordered to kill you this time!
Max is ignoring Dapper’s hand yanking at him, trying to get him to run, his eyes fixed back on Ro in the crowd.
“Trick - Chase would never really… and especially in a crowd like this! He would never kill me, he would never shoot someone, he - ”
A gunshot goes off and Max screams even as Dapper pushes him back into an alley to hide. You hear Red holler in tandem, collapsing on the other screen, wailing as blood runs from his leg. Trick steps over him, heading back towards Max and Dapper.
Anonymous asked: UH max play dead??? Dap can you pretend you already killed him?? Trick will not stop coming and dap can't keep rewinding, anti already knows about max and wants him dead, so just make trick think he doesn't have to shoot him, job already done?
“Uh,” begins Max.
“Sure,” answers Dapper, desperate for anything to do, and he cuts a line of blood into Max’s stomach. Max yelps, startled, and crimson seeps into his white dress shirt.
“But Anti can see through the cameras!” protests Max.
“Well, Trick can’t,” hisses Dapper, shoving him to the ground. “Maybe it will buy us a couple minutes, and trust me, a couple minutes can mean a lot. Look more like I stabbed you!”
“Fuck,” hisses Max, and closes his eyes.
bupine asked: trick, don't. the man anti wants you to kill? red loves him, a lot. so, so much. he'd be fucking devastated if you killed him. i don't think he'd ever be able to forgive you after that. do you understand? this could cost your brothers love. and don't you dare say anti is the only brother who matters, because he's not. you know he's not. you know you love the others. don't throw it all away.
“Trick!” Red is screaming, the crowds clearing hurriedly away from the gunman. “Trick, please! Don’t hurt him! Don’t!”
Trick glances back at him, a touch of trepidation in his step, uncomfortable with disobeying an older brother, though he knows Anti’s orders trump his.
“Red loves him?”
And it’s true - Anti isn’t the only brother that matters. Is he? There was someone else. Trick blinks, his head aching a little.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick! He didn't do anything! Don't shoot him! Your big brother LOVES HIM
“Look,” sighs Trick. “It sucks that he’s confused right now… I can only imagine how much it would sting to realize someone you thought you loved was bad for you. But soon Anti will clear his head up and then, well. He won’t need anybody but us. We’ll be enough for him. And that - that’s how it has to be! He can’t just leave!”
Trick’s voice shudders. “He wants someone else? What, we’re not good enough for him? I’m not good enough for him? Anti says we’re enough and we shouldn’t want anything more. Anti will make it right again. He’ll forget all about this guy soon.”
hurricael asked: Trick. Stop, please. You just hurt your brother. Are you now going to kill a person who they've come to consider family? That could damage your relationship with them permanently. Please, hold on for a minute. See if we can figure out a solution that works better, okay?
Trick rounds the corner of the alleyway, blinking at the sight of his little brother kneeling beside Max’s body, playing peacefully with his bear and his bloodied golden knife.
“Dap?”
Dapper looks up at him, blinking.
“Did he try and hurt you?”
“No,” says Dapper, tossing the knife up and down in his hand. “But he was talking about taking Red away from Anti so they could go be happy somewhere without anybody chaining them in their rooms or forcing them to beat the shit out of me. And we don’t approve of that, do we, big brother? Who cares what Red will say?”
Trick’s gut twists uncomfortably.
Anonymous asked: Yes baby, I think you’re thinking about Dok. You remember him don’t you? You just saw him a second ago and he’s with Anti now. He’s your twin, the one that took care of you when you were sad? You bought him coffee for Christmas and he bought you that sweater. He’s here and he matters to you, maybe more than Anti ever did.
Trick touches his skull, blinking.
I love you.
Yeah? Even more than Anti?
Even more than Anti.
Shhh. I love you too.
Five seconds. The thought blinks away again. Trick shivers and tries to hold steady his gun.
“Let me check if he’s alive,” he sighs. “Poor little Dap, all covered in blood.”
“I’ve killed more people than you,” snips Dapper.
“Alright, just move.”
“No, he’s my kill! Anti’s going to be pleased with me! Get off or I’ll tell him you hit me!”
Trick draws back, shaking his head. “Don’t tell him that.”
Dapper scowls and curls slightly over Max’s body.
Anonymous asked: No, Trick, it's not at all that you're not good enough. He loves you a lot. It's just that sometimes different people fill different holes, and it's not possible for one person to be everything someone needs. Sometimes even multiple people aren't.
Trick shakes his head, his eyes stinging.
“No - no. That’s not true. I don’t want it to be. Dok and I, and Anti and I - we’re enough for each other. Nobody else wants me. If they’re not everything, then I’m never going to… to find anyone, I’m never… the fact that two people put up with me is already a fucking miracle. If it takes more than that, I’m lost.”
Tears well up in his eyes. He tugs anxiously on his fervently green hair.
“I have to be enough. I have to be everything or no one will want me around. They’ll find someone better.”
A sudden flash of fury strikes his eyes and he shakes his head hard, grinding his teeth.
“Move, Dapper! You’re not better than me! Anti already fucking replaced you with me so just move!”
Anonymous asked: Trick! Listen! Is these really something you want to do? Forget Anti you’ll have to live with your actions for the rest of your life! Can you really live with the guilt when you knew you have the chance to change it? Do you really want to kill a man for taking care and loving your brothers when they had nothing? Stop and think about this Trick!
Trick’s expression darkens wearily.
“I’ve killed people before,” he mumbles. “And they weren’t even threatening my family. I can live with it.”
Anonymous asked: He hasn't been threatening your family; in fact, he's even been helping them. Would you really kill someone who was kind to your brothers, when he could have just as easily not been?
“That’s true,” says Dapper coolly. “He did feed me and Red, and get us clothes and everything we needed and protect us from the police instead of turning us in.”
“I don’t care,” sighs Trick.
“Liar.”
cest-mellow asked: trick, you have to calm down. all of your brothers love you to pieces and want whats best for you, EXCEPT anti. the sooner you realize this, the easier this will be.
“I’d agree,” says Dapper. “But honestly the fact that you’re turning your self-esteem issues into a reason to kill a man is rather off-putting. Also, you are sprouting horns. Are you Anti?”
“No.” Trick rubs his face and slides to the earth, looking exhausted, hiding his face from you. “You’re off your meds.”
“Right.”
For a moment, they’re still.
“Can I have a hug?” mumbles Trick.
Dapper blinks.
“What?”
Trick looks up at him, red-eyed.
“I… really missed you all,” he whispers.
Dapper sinks slightly in on himself. He’s tired too.
“I missed you too, Trick.”
They move gently together there in the dirt. Dapper lets Trick press him to his chest. He puts a hand on his brother’s chest and feels his heartbeat.
He should have been the one who was there to take the brunt of Anti’s affection. It’s not a blessing. Trick shouldn’t have to be the one dealing with this.
“It’s going to be okay,” soothes Dapper. “Just don’t hurt this guy. Red really likes him, Trick.”
Trick hides in his chest.
“I’m going to do what I have to,” he says eventually.
“Me too,” warns Dapper.
hollenka99 asked: You love Dok too. And he wouldn't want you to kill this guy either. How about you make sure (through NON VIOLENT means) Red's friend understands he is not to follow you or your family anymore?
“Why can’t we just do that?” asks Dapper.
“You know Anti wouldn’t let us,” whispers Trick.
“Some things are more important than what Anti wants.”
“You really are delusional.”
Anonymous asked: Trick, I wouldn't risk provoking him. You never know if he'll want to prove why he should reclaim his spot as Anti's twin.
“Yes.” Dapper crosses his arms over his chest. “Wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“Babe, I know you’re, like, covered in blood, but you’re not really intimidating.”
“That’s the point! I’m disarmingly cute! It works better when Anti is here to counteract me.”
Trick just sighs. “At this point, whatever happens is going to suck, isn’t it?”
Dapper’s eyes close. “Trick. It’s my job to make sure we get the least sucking option available. Please just cooperate with me.”
Anonymous asked: Hey, Trick. It's okay. Your brothers want you, they love you. You are one hundred percent good enough. I should've said it's not always possible, that was my bad. They won't just find someone better; they love you in part because you're you.
“They’re right,” comes a voice behind them.
Trick whirls.
Doktor’s there. In the alley mouth. Helping Red to stay on his feet.
Trick can’t move. Frozen by the sight of him.
“I do love you,” says Dok. “We all do. Or at least we all will when we’ve recovered from the gunshot wounds you may or may not have given us.”
“Get the fuck away from him!” shouts Red, and Dok helps him limp desperately forward to collapse at Max’s side, pulling him into his lap, tears running down his face. Max looks up at him for a moment before his eyes close again.
Trick is just staring. Trick is just staring. Trick is just staring.
Five seconds and the image of him does not clear away.
Dok is still there.
Five seconds and Dok is still there.
Five seconds and Dok still say he loves him.
I do love you. I do love you. I love you. Better than Anti.
“Dok?” croaks Trick, his voice shaking. His chest shaking. His heart shaking.
Dok kneels down beside him.
“We didn’t get a proper hello,” says Dok. “But I’m here now.”
“Dok,” repeats Trick desperately. “Dok. Dok. I… I… what have I… what has happened to me?”
“Stay with me,” murmurs Dok, taking his face in his hands. “Here I am.”
bupine asked: trick, chase, fucks sake, will you listen to us? jackie loves that man and he has for a long time. he just didn't remember him. he knew you too, you know. all of you. he's been so good to jackie and jameson, he's bought them food and clothes and kept them safe and made them happy. they'd be dead without him. and jackie or red or whatever name he chooses - he loves him. and he is good for him. don't take away your big brother's best chance at happiness.
“They’re all right if you would just listen,” cries Ro. “And I - I do love him. You aren’t my brother if you hurt him. Max…”
He runs his hands across his face. Figuring they’ve given up the ghost a little, Max opens his eyes and smiles at him. Ro sniffles and smiles back even as pain courses through him.
“Trick, the fucking cops are coming, seeing as you shot me,” snaps Red. “We need to all get out of here now.”
“Red,” warns Dok, staring at the deep, bone-shattering wound in his leg. “Don’t get up. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You could lose the leg.”
“I’m fine,” mumbles Red, swaying slightly. Max rises up to grab him.
“Where’s Anti?” signs Dapper.
“Close behind,” grimaces Dok. “I kind of just dropped him.”
Dapper’s eyes flicker, an emergency plan forming in his head. For now, he’ll focus on the present, but maybe he can get Max out of this if something goes wrong.
Anonymous asked: Trick you are enough just the way you are. Your brothers love you for who you are and there are people that you’ve forgotten about or haven’t even met yet that have or will love you. You should never have to change your opinions or appearance to be accepted or loved by someone. That kind of mentality is abusive and wrong. You know this is wrong, you don’t have to conform. You are worth so much more than to be treated like dirt by someone like Anti.
“Yes,” murmurs Henrik, stroking his fingers through Trick’s hair. “I like the person you really are. I love him, in fact. More than myself. More than anyone. Trick… Chase…”
Trick grips desperately at his white coat, taking comfort in the soft fabric as his breaths come faster and faster, his head filling up with a terrible pain. He isn’t supposed to be thinking about this - but why? - but how can he not? - but Anti told him - but he needs to kill him - but why? - because he’s Red’s partner? because Anti hates - Xin Yi. Xin Yi.
“What’s happening?” screams Trick, tears coursing down his cheeks. “No, no, no, I can’t - I can’t - ”
“Your thoughts have been repressed for a couple weeks,” says Henrik softly, stroking his hair, his back, his beard. “The dam’s burst. This is normal, as far as I’ve ever seen. Just try and breathe with me through it.”
“I didn’t even think of you,” gasps Trick. “And I just forgot - she kissed me, she - and B-blue?”
He buries himself in Dok’s arms, gasping for air, and Dok chants reassurances at him while Trick rambles desperately. Red stares at them for a second. Dapper waits for him to speak.
Instead he faints.
Max gasps and catches him, helping lie him down, calling his name as blood seeps all too rapidly from his leg.
“You’re all disasters,” growls Anti’s voice from the head of the alley, and Dok, Max, and Dapper turn as one to see Blue’s body standing there on the cane, mismatched eyes flickering hatefully. “Dapper. Dok. Move.”
“No,” says Dapper, shaking his head, pushing himself in front of Max. “No.”
Anti’s eyes narrow.
“I can tell you’re slipping in and out, Dapper. You’re psychotic. Delusional. This boy treated you kindly for two weeks and you forgot the unity between us, my brother, my twin, the only one who really knows me… and I, the only one who knows you at all. I know what you really want is to come back to me. I know you don’t care about Max. Just about Red. I’ll make it right for him.”
Dapper closes his eyes. Opens them again.
“No.”
“Such a hypocrite,” Anti hisses, in a voice like a snake rearing, stalking forward. “Have you forgotten what you are so easily? Suddenly you care about this one? Out of all the people you’ve murdered… You’ve done a lot worse things than this, Dapper. Or did you finally manage to blot out the day you helped me kill all three of the men Marvin had in rotation?”
Dapper’s heart stutters in his chest. So hard it hurts.
“Or Henrik’s queer-platonic partner?”
Blood drips down his knife. Max’s blood down his knife. He does not move.
“Or your own fucking girlfriend?”
“Stop,” whisper Dapper’s hands. “Stop.”
Anti grabs his youngest by the hair. “Get up,” he says. “My perfect darling. Don’t go losing your mind on me now. I’ve missed you, my love. Get up.”
Dapper rises slowly to his feet.
Anonymous asked: Henrik, do you think it's a good idea to try and drop Anti with the animal necklace? If it works, you could get Blue back, but if it doesn't it might go badly.
“I don’t know,” chokes Henrik.
Anti turns glowing eyes to him and Henrik pulls Trick away from him. He can feel the heat rising off of Anti’s flesh as Blue’s magic pools. Max gives a sudden choke, eyes widening at a strange sensation in the middle of his chest.
But he won’t let go of Red, and he doesn’t run.
Anonymous asked: Fight it, Dapper. You're stronger than him!
“Shut up like a good little murderer and stay out of this,” sneers Anti. The trunks of trees burst up from the ground and Dapper sucks in a gasp as he is pinned back against the wall of the alley.
A rose bush blooms in Max’s chest. You watch him struggle frailly, eyes huge, choking for air as the thorns pierce him from the inside out. Dapper writhes, howling, tearing an arm free and scrambling for his knife.
“Aww,” mocks Anti. “You going to stab big brother Blue? Going to watch him die just to kill me? Not like you’ve ever cared about anyone but yourself before.”
Dapper’s eyes water and overflow, his teeth gritted tight in his mouth. No. He can’t stab Blue. He can’t kill him. No more innocent people.
“Please!” he begs, writhing. “Don’t hurt him! I won’t let you do this!”
“You’re a little late,” says Anti. “But don’t worry. I’ll make it better soon.”
“What if we gave ourselves back to you for him? Our loyalty again for his life?”
“Would you really? I… well. Not necessary now.”
“But you might? You might let him live?”
“I’ve got this handled as is. Red is unconscious and you’re bound. You’ll both settle down.”
“I.” Dapper struggles to get his hands free, signing around the knife. “I. I. I am the most ferocious creature you have ever met. I do not. Settle.”
Anti laughs.
And Max drowns, quiet, lying against the alley wall with Jackie in his arms.
Dapper stills in the arms of the tree. Slowly, they recede, and leave him on the ground again.
Anti wants him to be his little murderer, is that it?
“That was well over-due,” sighs Anti. “Now don’t even think about going for your stupid little clock. I can smell that you’ve already reversed once. My poor Dapper. I’m really going to have to put you back in your place. But if you reverse again without the password, I’ll be able to tell, and I’ll punish you and every single one of your brothers until you’re all screaming for mercy. You’re stuck, Dapper. Don’t worry, darling. I’ll fix it again soon and it’ll all make sense. But there is nothing you can do to save Jackie’s little - ”
Dapper picks up his knife and sends it spinning across the alley, where, in one neat blow, it impales Trick’s pounding heart and sends him into his death throes.
Henrik starts screaming like he’s being murdered, clutching desperately at his twin. Trick grabs the dagger, too astonished to be frightened, blinking dopily at Dapper as the life flows out of him in splurting streams of blood. And Anti?
It’s Anti’s turn to just stare.
Mouth dry. Heart pounding.
Trick.
Trick’s corpse on the earth beneath him.
He looks back to Dapper. He has never seen Anti’s eyes so terrified.
“Want to tell me that fucking password?” he signs.
He’ll reverse again. Max will not die. No one else will be punished.
He doesn’t care what it does to him.
“Athanasius. That’s the password. Now bring Trick back.”
The post where Red turned around to fight Trick was reblogged with this addition:
Dapper grabs Red by the hood, dragging him back to him.
“Dapper! Cut it out, I - oh, fuck!”
Red catches his little brother as he crumples against his chest, his legs shaking hard and blood running from his nose - and his mouth, too, Red realizes belatedly, tilting his face up at him. Silver eyes bore into his own, and Red tugs desperately at Max, pulling him close as his eyes rove the crowd for Trick, armed and determined, coming towards them.
“Dap,” breathes Red. “How many times?”
“Third,” sign Dapper’s weary hands. “So you do what I tell you. No questions. Take Max. Run.”
“I am not leaving you here with - ”
“He will not shoot me. I checked - he’s still scared to cross me. Keep running. If you can, hide. Give me the camera, give. If Anti catches you - Red, pay attention - if Anti catches you, you can trade loyalty for Max’s life.”
“I can’t just give up my mind again,” whispers Red. “Or my… or Max. Even if I think maybe I should stay with the rest of you and help you stay safe, I can’t just - ”
“Then you better be fast!” interrupts Dapper, shoving him away and straightening as best he can, gripping you in his palms, leaving Red and Max without a camera. You see them exchange one more glance, Red’s hands open like he might just snatch Dapper and bring him with them anyway, but then they are gone, their hands clasped, racing away together.
Dapper collapses for a moment. You go down with him, striking the pavement hard enough that a crack splits the middle of his screen. You can hear his shuddering breaths - or maybe they’re sobs as his head spins and his thoughts begin to unravel like cut-up threads, groaning out a breath as images replay in his head.
He really killed Trick. He laughs breathily, tears sliding down his face. It was like the games Anti used to play to test him, back when he didn’t plan to keep Jackie around. Killing him over and over again in front of Dapper, leashed to the bed they shared, knees drawn to his chest, replaying his murder until he lost count of how many times he had died in front of him…
“That’s a new memory for today,” he signs at you as he manages to drag himself up. “You might have to help keep me focused.”
“Dapper?” calls a concerned voice, stopping in front of him.
Dapper grabs Trick’s wrists and drags him into the alley, pinning his arms to the wall. He has to tell him something, stop him from something, get someone to… Dok to… hell, his head aches. He had a plan! Something touches his ankle and he gasps, but when he turns around to look, there’s nothing there. He is unraveling. Trick catches him when he crumples for a third time. This time, he faints away completely and you slide out of his hand, back onto the pavement.
cest-mellow asked: boys, the only way you can beat anti and get blue back is if you all work together. max that probably includes you since blue is possessed....
“Goddammit, Dap,” you hear Trick hiss, sinking to the pavement with Dapper limp in his arms, clutching his little brother’s head. “You better have the fucking password or Anti’ll goddamn kill you. Shit.”
He looks around, torn and frightened by whatever convinced Dapper to turn back. He needs to keep running after Red and the stranger, but he doesn’t want to get in trouble for leaving Dapper alone and unconscious either. He slaps Dapper’s face lightly and is relieved to see him stir, blinking his silver eyes dopily up at the sky. Trick shades him from the sun and lets out a nervous groan, holding him in his lap.
Work together. Dap tries to think, rubbing at his aching head.
hurricael asked: I think you should go for it. He seems like he's about to use Blue's magic, and that is powerful. Maybe- maybe act you're happy to see him, or something, and get close to him, and then use the necklace?
Henrik is pulled along by Anti’s hand, staring at his brother before him. He’s scared and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but if you ask him to, he’ll use JP’s necklace on Blue before Anti reaches Dapper and Trick. Or he can do what he did last time, and tug out of his grip, and run to find his twin and little brother.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: You do have the password now, right Dap? You remember it?
“Athana - I don’t know how to spell it. Z? S? Something. We’re fine. Trick, change in plans. Do what I tell you.”
“But I - ”
“Anti told me to change time! You do what I tell you when we’re playing with time!”
Trick bites on his lip but doesn’t protest.
“You need to get to Dok.”
Trick smiles faintly. “I… I could, but Dap, Anti gave me an order, I need to - ”
“I gave the order so I’ll worry about the punishment.” Dapper pushes on his chest, dragging himself back to his knees. “You and Dok need each other.”
“And you don’t need me?” protests Trick, holding his shoulders.
“What?”
“And you don’t - ?”
“Not you,” protests Dapper, whirling around. “What are you saying?”
“Dapper, no one else is talking.”
“I do know the password,” insists Dapper, staring at the wall. “I do!”
“Bud, stay with me.”
“I need to protect my family.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: You do have the password now, right Dap? You remember it?
“Athana - I don’t know how to spell it. Z? S? Something. We’re fine. Trick, change in plans. Do what I tell you.”
“But I - ”
“Anti told me to change time! You do what I tell you when we’re playing with time!”
Trick bites on his lip but doesn’t protest.
“You need to get to Dok.”
Trick smiles faintly. “I… I could, but Dap, Anti gave me an order, I need to - ”
“I gave the order so I’ll worry about the punishment.” Dapper pushes on his chest, dragging himself back to his knees. “You and Dok need each other.”
“And you don’t need me?” protests Trick, holding his shoulders.
“What?”
“And you don’t - ?”
“Not you,” protests Dapper, whirling around. “What are you saying?”
“Dapper, no one else is talking.”
“I do know the password,” insists Dapper, staring at the wall. “I do!”
“Bud, stay with me.”
“I need to protect my family.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: You get to make the decision now, Trick. You got this. Do what feels right to YOU, not anyone else.
“I do not want to get in trouble with Anti,” says Trick clearly. “I’m trying to be good. But I don’t think he would want me to leave Dapper behind, so let’s just take a second. Anti will be able to find Red soon, or maybe Dapper can rewind again when we have a clearer picture. Here, buddy, I got you. C’mere, I didn’t really get to say hi to you.”
Trick pulls Dapper back into his lap and Dapper sinks into a hug, distracted.
“Maybe… get Anti for me and he’ll stop and check on me. And I’ll have the password and he’ll listen to what I tell him.”
“Okay, soon as he comes.”
Anonymous asked: He's not kidnapping Red, Trick, don't worry. Red's okay, he's relatively safe at the moment.
“Okay, Red’s okay,” Trick murmurs to the both of them. “I mean, much as we can trust the cameras.”
He gives you a slightly dirty look. There are still things he hasn’t forgiven you for.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: It might not be helpful right now, Trick, but... we're sorry.
“Don’t apologize to him,” protests Dap. “He’s being a baby.”
“Hey!”
Anonymous asked: Here are the outcomes I can see for each option, Henrik. Just Anti: his attention might be drawn to you too much to succeed, but dap and trick won't be there to interfere. In front of them: Dap and trick won't be much help, trick might actively harm chances, but Anti will be distracted. With them, after reuniting: Trick will likely be out of it, probably dapper too, so you might end up with three people out of it and Anti right there. I would recommend the first option, but it's up to you
“I think you’re suggesting I put the necklace on him right now?” mumbles Henrik discreetly, a little confused. “I… I could.”
Anonymous asked: Henrik, dapper keeps having to rewind, I think you should put the necklace on blue. This could be your last chance.
Henrik shifts, uncomfortable with the dissidence, but he’s independent enough to make the choice for himself. He’ll wait to talk to his brothers, but if you suggest it again, he’ll do it without question.
He tears out of Anti’s hand and goes racing towards Trick and Dapper, ignoring an irritated shout from a limping Anti.
“What do I need to do?” he asks.
Anonymous asked: If you can give JJ his Haldol, please do!! I think he'd appreciate it. After that, just talk to Chase, comfort him when the memories start coming back. And follow JJ's lead.
“He’s had his dose for the day, but medicine like this takes time to kick in - days, maybe longer, with how long he’s been off it. Time travel makes his confusion worse. Don’t let him reverse again.”
Henrik races down the road. He can hear Dapper whistling for him, calling for his help with Trick. He finds them in an alleyway, sitting together, their arms around each other and Trick’s cupped hand full of Dapper’s blood. Dapper spits the copper from his mouth, looking, in Henrik’s medical opinion, ridiculous levels of fucked up.
“Take Trick,” signs Dapper. Trick’s eyes are already enormous and fixed on Dok as his memories rush back to him. “He’ll snap out of some of Anti’s hypnosis soon, but he’ll still listen to him if he’s given a command. Take him far away to hide.”
“Where?”
“Doesn’t matter. You have a camera. We’ll be able to find you again. Go. I’ll intercept Anti.”
“He’s not far. Come here, Trick.”
“What’s - ?”
“Just come on!”
And it’s Dok and Trick’s turn to race off, Trick still casting nervous glances back at Dapper and the alleyway.
Dapper pulls himself to his feet, breathing out. Breathing in. Breathing out.
Okay. Let’s face him again. He can do this.
Anti appears there in the alley on that cane.
They stare at each other for a second. Antiques and petrichor.
“Password?” says Anti.
“A-T-H-A-N-A-Z-I-U-S.”
Relief floods through Blue’s face. Anti moves forward.
“Close enough,” he laughs, and he pulls Dapper into a hug. Tight, tight.
“My - my little brother,” Anti whispers, and then he’s burying his face in his shoulder, holding him close, and Dapper is holding him right back, his chest aching, his head pounding, a wave of confusion rushing through his head.
“Anti,” he answers softly against his brother’s throat.
“I can’t remember the last time I was that scared,” laughs Anti, his voice shaking, letting himself be raw with Dapper, be open with Dapper, be himself with Dapper. “I never thought I’d see you again, for a while there. Dap, fuck. I love you… I’m glad you’re still mine. Always so good for me…”
Dapper pulls back, exhausted, his eyes dark. Anti kisses his cheek.
“What do I need to do, love?” asks Anti.
“Please,” says Dapper. “Let Jackie’s Max go.”
“Don’t you say that name. What’s gotten into you? You know I can’t do that.”
“Well, I don’t know where they won’t. But you’ll lose Red if you hurt Max.”
“I’ll figure it out. I have to have Red back. Our big brother…”
“Fine. Come on, I know which way they went.”
“Oh, no, darling, you can’t come with.”
Dapper’s eyes widen and his stomach drops.
That was not part of the plan. No. He has to go with, he has to make sure he can stop this -
“You’re confused and sick. You could reverse when I don’t want you to.”
“No, no, won’t!”
Anti handcuffs his right wrist. Dapper chokes, grabbing Blue’s arm, desperate.
“No!” he cries with his one hand. “No, I need to come, I had a plan, I just needed to remember it!”
“If I need you to reverse again, I’ll tell you through the cameras.” Anti places it carefully at his feet and handcuffs the left hand, making Dapper gasp, leaving him trapped and muted against the dumpster, shaking his head wildly.
“I’ll be back in just a few,” promises Anti. “Just go find Red and Max. Don’t worry, I have a signal on his phone. He’s been easy to track. I’ll bring Red back for you. If I’m not back in a half-hour, you reverse again. There’s my good boy. Goodbye.”
And that’s where Anti leaves him, sinking to the ground, his silver eyes wild, wild, wild and fixed on you.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, you need to move faster. Ditch your phone! Anti is tracking you guys. BOTH OF YOU DITCH YOUR PHONES AND RUN LIKE HELL
A
They ditched the camera, but Anti can hear them, Anti can hear them through the phone. He digs into the frequency and it buzzes onto your screens, showing you the darkness of the inside of Max’s pocket. Luckily for them, Max has been hiding from Anti for a long time. They already realized the problem.
“Give me the phone,” Ro is panting. “Go to the airport. I know you got tickets. Go back to England. I should never have let you come back with us. I just didn’t want to admit what he was. I didn’t want to admit that my little brother would hurt you.”
“I’m not leaving you. Not losing you again.”
“You heard the messages,” whispers back Red. “My brothers and I - we have to be together to get free of him. We have to work together and we’re not ready. Trick is completely in his head, Dapper can’t convince himself, and Blue is possessed and sick and hurting. We have to do this alone.”
“That’s stupid,” spits Max, and you can hear the brush of their clothes together. “That’s stupid. Let me help.”
“He’ll just kill you. I know the way Dapper thinks, at least in regards to reversals. He’s protecting us and you have to run. Max.”
“No… no. I can’t… I love you. I finally found you again.”
Air between them. Breathing between them. They are holding on to each other. Max will not let go of him. He can’t.
“Yeah, you can,” says Red. “You can and trust that I’ll come back to you.”
“You’ll forget me again.”
“No. No. Never.”
He can’t. He can’t. Can he? He can’t.
Anonymous asked: Max, you’ve given Jackie a reason to fight again. Your safety is the most important thing right now so please go back home! He’ll come back to you, but if you do not leave now you will die and loose everything that you’ve worked for. Stay alive for Jackie’s sake.
“I just want to know you’re safe, somewhere in the world,” mumbles Jackie, running his fingers through Max’s hair. Holding his waist. “If I forget… Dapper remembers, moment to moment. He’ll remind me. But you will die if you - ”
“Maybe I’d rather die than lose you again,” spits Max, suddenly venomous. “Maybe I’d die for a chance to shoot Anti in his fucking head.”
“He’s wearing Blue anyway. You can’t.”
“Chase is out of his mind and Marvin is sick as fuck and Jameson is always lost and you want me to - ”
“Max.”
“That’s my family, you, all of you, Juice Box, Jackie, you are my family. I’ll stay with you.”
Red sighs, very long and very deep. Touches Max’s face. His gloved hand.
And then he draws back and strikes him so hard you hear Max crash to the ground, his head slamming into the pavement, and that’s where he stays, unconscious, as Red turns, and takes his phone, and leaves him there in their hiding place.
Red does not show you where.
Does not show Anti where.
Max will stay there in his memory alone.
He doesn’t say “I love you.” Feels too much like a betrayal. He can hear Max’s song in his head.
“Bye, Max.”
spicydanhowell asked: henrik i think you should put the amulet on anti
“He’s away from us now,” says Henrik, struggling to orient a sobbing Trickshot. “I can go after him if you know where he is.”
“Don’t hurt Anti,” protests Trick desperately, trying to breathe. “Dok, Dok, what’s happening to me?”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hen, Max and Jackie split up. Anti's tracking their phone.
“Shit,” hisses Henrik. “Is Jackie in danger?”
And on your other screen, at the exact same time, with the thumping of the cane:
“Would you fuckers stop trying to thwart me? Bastards. Red! Red, come here! I see you, big brother! Come on, we can be nice about this…”
Anonymous asked: Henrik, I think you should find Red first before using it, because Blue will be out of it and I don't think you can get them both away alone. And Trick, it won't hurt Anti. Do what Dok says, okay? He knows what he's doing.
“You’re going to listen to me, yeah, my Trickster?”
“Yeah, okay, yeah, Dok, you know I t-trust you, I love you, I’m sorry.”
“Just stay with me. Guys, I’ll go after Anti, but I have no idea where he or Red are!”
Anonymous asked: dap, are you doing okay? what do you need/want from us? max is safe, he and red split up for a little bit to stay safe. anti is catching up to red. dok and trick are still together, they might be looking for anti but it's kind of unclear, they might not have a plan yet.
You can find Dapper sitting there, head low.
The slow dripping of tears in front of the camera.
He hears your beeping and sniffles, reaching out his feet, trying to drag you closer to him, but all he ends up doing is accidentally kicking you, and you drop away from him, so he can just barely touch you with the tight, black dress shoes he put back on knowing his master was coming to steal him again, again, always. He sighs and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back.
He doesn’t want to do this anymore.
Everybody’s got to fight together to get free, but he’s never going to be able to. He’s always going to end up right here. Right here, chained and exhausted, in Anti’s captivity.
Wait.
But… Max gave him one present before all the rest.
Anonymous asked: We. Don't really know where they are either?? Jackie's being smart, not showing Anti anything, but he's still tracking his phone. It looked like Anti's getting kind of close now. You two should probably also be careful not to show anything, like,,, incriminating? We'll update you if we can.
“I see you, baby,” calls Anti again, stepping forward, stepping forward. People and pigeons part as he steps. Thud, thud, thud says the cane. “Come here. Come here. It’s okay. You brought the phone, so I know you wanted me to come after you. I know you’re going to stay here with little brother. Come here. Come here, my brother, my guard dog.”
“Don’t call me brother,” rasps Jackie, without much strength left. “You told me family was an illusion. A trick.”
“And I stand by that. But here you are. Planning to stay. Come. Sit down.”
A dark plaza. Outside a church. Always a church in Peru. A dark plaza and a dark bench. Late enough now that there are few tourists, just people moving, moving, moving, moving to go to their homes, to their families.
“They still think there’s a fight to fight,” coos Anti. “But you know better, my love. Sit down. I’m going to get you a drink.”
“What?” stammers Red.
“Yeah. I’m going to get you a drink. Sit.”
And he sits.
Confused, on the black bench.
“Know where we are?” asks Anti. He’s buying an Inca Cola from a nine-year-old vendor. “They want to know. Tell them.”
Ro stares around them. His eyes are watering.
Anti points up at a surveillance camera and connects it to you so easily you can tell he’s done it before.
“Outside the police station,” whispers Ro. “Where they held me after I killed that man.”
Jose.
Anti comes back and sits beside him, handing him the drink. Cracking it for him.
“Drink,” he says.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink,” repeats Anti. “Because if you are not mine, then I have no need for you, and I can put you back in that police station right now.”
Red stares down at the yellow soda, bubbling happily at him.
His shaking hands pull it back to drink. Sweet. Bubblegum sweet. Taunting him. Anti, more than anything else, loves to taunt all of you.
“Give me the phone,” says Anti.
Red hands it to him.
“Guess what his password is?”
“I don’t know, Anti.”
“1007. Mean anything to you?”
“No, Anti.”
“I know it doesn’t,” he says.
He is enormously pleased with himself. Unlocking the phone, he holds it between himself and Ro.
“Look,” he commands, opening the camera app.
Mostly, it’s just pictures of Jackie being stupid.
Laughing and cooking pancakes. Holding Chase over his shoulders like he weights two pounds. Clinging to Max at the top of the Brighton Tower. Making superhero poses. Frowning exaggeratedly over a cake he burned the shit out of. Asleep on the couch, with Max’s arm slung around him. The two of them grinning side-by-side.
But there are the rest of them too. Henrik flips the camera off, sipping his coffee. Marvin and Jameson are motion blurred as they run away from halfway-finished graffiti, hand in hand and laughing. There’s a video of Chase and Jackie throwing a pair of shrieking children back and forth.
“So cute,” says Anti. “He adored you.”
He blinks at the camera and it sparks and smokes, the images disappearing into pixels. Ro blinks tears away and refuses to look at Anti, closing his eyes and clinging to his soft blue hoodie.
“That’s what I would have done to that boy if I found him,” growls Anti, dropping the phone to the ground. “Still could. But you were smart, weren’t you, Red? You knew what would happen. So you made the right choice. You’re giving yourself back to me. That’s what’s happening, right? Or should I keep searching for your little fiance and throw you back in jail?”
Jackie’s eyes snap open.
“My… my…”
There’s the word he’s been looking for. There.
“My fiance?”
Anti hands - Blue’s hands, his twin’s hand - are on his face, cupping his cheeks, and Jackie shivers at the sensation. He hates skin on his skin. Anti knows.
“You give yourself back to me right now,” says Anti. “And we will let all of this - all of this - go. Like it never happened. And I’ll take you somewhere new. And you’ll be happy again.”
“For how long, Anti?” cries Red, his eyes sunken, tears running down his face. “How many times will we do this? How many times have we done this? Why does Dapper talk about escape attempts I don’t remember? Why is it more painful every time we do this?”
Anti’s eyes flicker.
“Anti,” whispers Red. “Promise me this is the last time.”
Anti stares at him. Green and blue. But still Blue’s eyes. Still Blue’s face. Red touches his hair.
“If you lose me again, kill me or throw me in jail. None of us can keep playing this game. It’s too much. You’re killing us, Anti. You’re killing yourself. Promise me this is the last time.”
And Anti remembers promises broken, and heartache, and his own regret, bitter in his mouth.
If he promises, he means it.
He learned his lesson.
He means it.
“Okay,” he says.
If he can’t be happy with them, he can’t be happy. If he can’t control them this time - if they start to get loose - he’ll end it. He’ll end all of it. Okay.
“I promise.”
“And one more thing,” says Red.
“I’m not really a bargain-maker,” Anti.
“You love bargaining,” answers Red. “You told me it makes you feel like a crossroads demon and that that was probably your true calling.”
“Okay, fine,” he says. “I do. And it is. Aren’t we talking about your soul anyway?”
“Leave me with the memory of him,” says Jackie, very soft. “Leave me with one thing that doesn’t always hurt.”
Anti sighs and looks down at the broken phone on the earth, a distorted image of Max and Jackie smiling back at him. All too bright. All too beautiful. All too happy.
“Don’t change my memories of him. Don’t delete him. Don’t try to hunt him down. Just… leave him. And I’m yours. I’m yours.”
“Okay,” says Anti. “Okay.”
A flood of pigeons leaps up from the earth, darkening the sun and the steep tower of the church.
“As long as you’re mine.”
And he grabs Jackie’s head, and remembers the first time he killed the man in front of him, and he makes of himself a flood.
Jackie can hear himself cry out.
And then, Jackie can hear nothing at all.
Red still hears Max’s song, playing in his head, and Anti’s voice, soothing him.
“It’s over now. It’s over. It’s done.”
He always thinks he alone is enough for finality.
Anonymous asked: Hey Ro! You need to find Henrik! He’s got a plan but he needs your help first so you can grab Blue. Also! Anti handcuffed Dap to the dumpster where y’all split up first, at some point you need go back and get him!
“Fuck’s sake! Hand-cuffing my little brother during a psychotic episode! I’ll eviscerate him.”
Henrik hears his own words and laughs a little wildly, clutching to his necklaces. He wishes he could threaten to kill Anti as easily as think about actually doing it.
“Okay, my Trick, my twin, let’s go back and get our little brother out of those cuffs, and then we go find big brothers and Anti, yes?”
“Okay,” groans Trick, wiping at his face. He’s a right mess, snotty and red-faced, tucked like a kid against Dok’s chest and clinging to his coat. “Yeah, my little brother.”
Dok helps him up and they hurry back to the alleyway, looking around.
“Um, here?” asks Dok. “Or where? Carver is not here.”
Trick sniffles and points to the dumpster, where a pair of handcuffs lie open and abandoned in the dirt.
Anonymous asked: Dap, hey, Dap, where are you? Do you have a plan? Dok and Trick are where you were
“You know something?” says Anti, leaning on Red for support now, his big brother exhausted and completely dazed, holding a tissue to his nose to stem the blood that came down as Anti poured once more into his head.
“What?” mumbles Red, clinging to somebody. He can’t tell if it’s Blue or Anti.
“That wasn’t even that hard. I can’t believe I was that stressed. Like, sure, that stupid fucking asshole found you again, but I didn’t have to break you out of prison or anything. Dapper’s a little sick, but he had the password, he followed the rules. You just took a little convincing. Trick will have a quick breakdown, but Dok’s there for him. And Blue can suck me off cause he’s been such a fucking bastard lately. I’ll let him go when we get to a new country. Guess I gotta find a way to deal with Dok… goddamn magicians. Almost want to stay and kill them, but honestly, we’ve been causing so much trouble lately. At least I didn’t have to shoot anyone. You’ll help me put Dok back together, right?”
Red nods wearily, nearly tripping over stone.
“There’s my good boy,” purrs Anti, nuzzling against his shoulder. “I love it, I love having you back, I feel so much better. And Blue fits so nice. Lately I’ve been getting sick everyday at this time, throwing up blood, feeling so mortal. But it’s all okay now. I’ll have to use Blue more often.”
The cameras are beeping insistently and no one seems to be answering them. He frowns down at you as it continues.
“What are you talking to Dapper for? Which alley is it?”
He pulls Red to the side and Dok and Trick turn back to look at them. But no Dapper. You feel Anti still.
“Where’s Dap?” he says, very stiff.
Trick and Dok exchange glances. Trick offers Anti the handcuffs uncertainly.
“Dapper?” calls Anti, letting Red go. He stumbles and Dok hurries forward to catch him. “Dapper? Where are you, baby? He can’t be running around while he’s confused and having an episode. Where’d he go? How’d he get loose? Why isn’t he answering the cameras?”
“Anti, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Trick tries to soothe, hearing the rising panic in his voice. “We’ll find him, we’ll find him.”
Anti limps back towards the street, eyes wide. Dapper is not there. Blue’s hands shake on the cane.
Anonymous asked: Hen, you probably noticed, but Red's under Anti's control again, so be warned. He might not be able to help you with Blue
Henrik draws slightly back, touching the back of Red’s head gently, frowning at him, grieving the news. But when Red looks back, it hardly even looks like him. His eyes are red and so miserable Henrik can’t imagine him falling back into the person he was, hitting them and ordering them around and carrying out Anti’s orders. If this is Red, he is not the same.
“Dok,” he whispers.
Henrik strokes his hands through his hair. “Bruder,” he answers softly. “Come here.”
Red slips into his arms. Henrik hugs him as tight as he can, giving him his favorite form of pressure, holding his head to his shoulder, and Red cries into his white heart surgeon’s coat.
“It’s going to be okay,” whispers Henrik, wrapping his fingers around his talismans. “One month, two at most. Two months and be free. I won’t go under. He won’t take me over again.”
“We’ll only do it one more time,” mumbles Red, almost delirious. “Only one more time and then, one way or another, it’s done.”
And then Anti is checking his other cameras, and they hear him start to scream.
Anonymous asked: What is it, Dap? Do you think it could help?
Max gave him the lockpick the day the first day Dapper saw him again, when they both hand-cuffed him to the chair in their motel room.
It was a good thing to give him. He’s grateful. That’s all he’ll need it, so he lets it fall.
And it falls, and falls, and falls, and falls, and falls.
Down onto the street far below. Your view is fixed on it. It’s all you can see - the highway, dark in the evening, and the ocean, glowing beneath artificial lights, and the people like raindrops babbling in the heat far below you. The pavement and the river and the people like raindrops and Dapper’s tight, hot, black, dirtied little dress shoes, standing on the ledge of a building.
Softly, above you, Dapper is laughing.
9 notes · View notes
stealinghero · 5 years
Note
Hi! How about some angst with jigen?
Uhm…. well…. it IS angsty… it IS Jigen…. it’s not nice. I held it as “harmless” as I could, but still want to warn my readers that the following is NOT a cute little story. it’s not quite 18+, but at least 16+. Please remember that while reading at your own risk: (Warning for blood and a few sausages)
It had been a great day so far. Warm, for late autumn, and dry. So why didn’t he said he would accompany his s/o to the super market? Why had he simply nodded and had taken the bags from before to go ahead and prepare something to eat?
And why the fuck was he now watching the screen helplessly, his hands balled into fists.
“So, if you want your little birdie here back? You better come out and play, Jigen. I’ll tell you the place and time later. Let me have some fun first.” The video came to an end.
“Any clues?” Lupin looked at him, uneasy and kind of prepared if Jigen should explode in a fit of rage.
“I know this voice. It’s old, I can’t pinpont it,” the gunman sat down and stared at the black screen, seething with rage but unable to vent it.
“It sounded like a warehouse or empty factory. Something big,” Lupin thought and began to watch the video again.
“If you play it one more time, I’m going to strangle you.”
“Okay.” And the screen stayed black.
 “Did you already remember me? Or are you getting old, Jigen? Losing your teeth already, tiger? Let me show you my work so far.”
In the darkness of a warehouse a figure had been hung from above by their wrists. The camera zoomed in on a puddle of blood under this figure, wearing his s/o’s shoes.
“I take it, you do remember me now. I wonder what kind of gift I should prepare for our reunion?”
His fingers turned white as Jigen clawed into the cushions of the couch he was sitting on.
“Maybe a leg? No, don’t worry. It’s you I want.”
He growled at the screen.
“Tomorrow night, ten after midnight, you already know where, right? In this dirty city there is just one place I would love to meet you at. Be punctual. And leave your friends at home. Or I will begin with their bodies, one by one, making you watch.”
The screen went black with the end of the video.
“Who is he?”
Letting out the breath he had held in and leaning back Jigen scratched his beard.
“A ghost of the past, I take it. Where is the meeting place?” Goemon watched his friend and his growing anxiety.
“Doesn’t matter.” The gunman got up and took his hat. “It doesn’t concern you.”
Lupin blocked his path. “We are coming with you, concerning or not. The victim is one of our friends and I hate it if someone hurts my friends.”
Strong hands, wrapped around his collar, lifted him a few inches from the floor.
“You will NOT come.”
Lupin nodded, eyes filled with something that someone could call fear. After being released and pushed away by his friend, he coughed and rubbed his throat where the collar had chafed it.
A quick glance at Goemon had the samurai nodding, just in the same moment Jigen slammed the door.
 “Okay, we have a warehouse. Did you see the little cloud of fog when panning to the wrists?”
Goemon nodded, already aware what kind of warehouse they were looking for.
“Maybe this?” he suggested and pointed out an abandoned meat factory on the map Lupin had spread across the table. “If the cooling system still works, they will need access to electricity.”
“I never knew you were this smart. Okay, who was this guy talking?” The two had watched the videos over and over in order to find any clues to rescue their friend, but it was hard to find anything. A man did the talking but was never shown. The camera only showed Jigen’s s/o, unmoving, covered in a shadow.
“If Jigen reacts like this, it is serious,” Goemon thought loud and looked at the thief. “He never attacked you like this before.”
“He attacks me on a daily basis, Goemon.”
“Verbal, yes. With a gun, yes. But did he ever touch you like this?”
Lupin let out a sigh.
“No,” he admitted, remembering the feral glow in Jigen’s eyes when he had lifted him from the floor. He knew about the past of his friend. A mercenary, a skilled gunman. But these were the eyes of a cold-blooded killer – and Lupin had problems in bringing those eyes together with the laughing Jigen.
“Let’s go and look around at this factory. There we will find moreclues, I suppose.”
“Let me make some calls before.” Lupin raised and took his phone.
“Are you calling the Inspector?”
“I don’t like it myself, Goemon. But depending on what’s happening, I would like to have the police behind my back. Jigen said so himself, it’s someone old. And that can just mean one thing.”
“The mafia?”
“Before that. He ran with a bunch of strange people back then. If I remember right they all were quite disturbed. A kidnapper, a… ew.”
Goemon looked at the thief who had grown pale. “Ew?”
“Remember what the guy said? He wondered if he should prepare a leg as a gift.”
Goemon nodded, waiting patiently what conclusion brought Lupin to react like that.
“I remember this group clearly. A psychotic arsonist, one of the worst sort, he was killed by Jigen years ago. A woman, pretty little thing, was in this group too. I think she had a knack for abducting rich kids and releasing them for quite high sums.”
The samurai raised his hand, impatient. “This is not relevant.”
“The woman was thrown into jail and I think she died there a few years ago. But there was our actor here. A really strange guy. He was the reason I didn’t talk with Jigen before all this, even if he had caught my eye.”
“Could you please hurry?!”
“Right! Hurry!!” With these words, Lupin grabbed his jacket and raced to the door. “Come!! We don’t have time if I’m correct!”
 And again, this time was the fifth. If nothing happened now, he would be satisfied.
With calm fingers, his whole body shaking because of the cold in his mind, he put the bullets in the round chamber.
When he had come here, the building was abandoned once more. Nothing left to give him clues where the bastard had taken his s/o now. Only the puddle of blood reminded him of his own failure. If he had been there. If he had been the one shopping for the last ingredients. If…
Jigen let out a sigh. This game of mind wouldn’t bring him to any reasonable end. And it wouldn’t save his s/o. He had to do this himself.
Standing up he looked around calmly, lifting his loyal Magnum.
The index finger first on the side of the trigger, the end joint slightly on the trigger, no strength in the said finger.
Focus on the target, the index finger slides on the trigger up to the second phalanx, any more will just obstruct pulling without hesitation.
A bit of strength is enough to pull the trigger. The secret is in the recoil, wandering through the arm. When the wrist is pulled upwards, release the index finger, put it back on the side of the trigger.
The left hand catches the gun, loads another bullet into the barrel, the whole left hand, the outside edge, is used to cock the hammer while moving towards the body, flowing back away from the body and bring the gun down again, while the index finger slips back on the trigger. Give it a go.
The hole the bullet left was slightly bigger than he had anticipated but he had calculated the reaction of his victim exactly.
A silver line flashing in the darkness of the old warehouse told him everything he needed to know.
“I thought I told you to stay put,” Jigen mused while refilling the lost bullet in the chamber.
“And I told you they’re my friend, too!” Lupin touched his slightly singed hairs where Jigen’s bullet had missed him by a few millimetres.
Goemon cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Goe, our friend.”
“I don’t need your help.”
 Half an hour later the three thieves were on their way through the maze of abandoned warehouses, empty shells of left to rot factories and even two rusting cars.
“The second on the left.” Jigen had been silent the whole time, going ahead, his comrades following him in a distance.
Lupin eyed the warehouse. “That’s nasty.”
Goemon nodded. After Lupin had told him the whole story on their way to Jigen, even the stoic samurai had needed a few deep breaths to calm himself down. And now they were in the middle of a dead district, standing before a warehouse called “Mikey’s gourmet supplies”.
“His humor always was a bit off.”
“A bit off?! We are talking about…,” Lupin was cut off by a gesture from Jigen.
In the dim light before them two people were fighting. One was bound, getting dragged along, trying to fight or to escape. The other was a small man, thin and with almost spindly build. The whole situation could have been comical to look at, if the man hadn’t had a butcher’s cleaver in his hand.
Slowly, the three crept closer as soon as the man vanished into the building.
“Any plan of attack?” Lupin had the courtesy to ask Jigen before sharing his own plan.
“I’ll go inside, you stay here.”
Not amused with his answer, Lupin gave Jigen a nudge.
“We’ll find a way inside to help you if things get nasty!”
“Are you really that stupid? He won’t be alone,” Jigen shot back.
“It’s almost the agreed time, Gentlemen. Jigen, you go, we will be there if you’ll need us.”
Goemon seldom used his stern voice while discussing plans, shutting the two others up.
“Good luck, partner.”
Jigen went without another word.
 “The great Jigen Daisuke… welcome to my little private show.”
“Where are they?”
“Oh, not so fast, Jigen. I thought we could catch up on the old times. You’ve grown so much.”
“Where are they?!”
A switch was operated and the lights turned on, revealing both the kidnapper and Jigen’s s/o.
“What a lovely sight. Pure terror on your face suits you, Daisuke.”
He had to fight the urge to run to his bleeding s/o, not sure if they were still breathing. He knew what would happen then, so he stood still in his place, begging his s/o in his thoughts to move, to give him a sign that there was still life in them.
“They’re unconscious. For now. Behave and they will survive this. Sit down.”
Looking around, Jigen found the table he had dreaded and followed the command.
“First round. Appetizer.”
He rose from the chair as the plate was set down in front of him, but strong hands pushed him back down. Two different pairs of hands, he acknowledged in an afterthought.
“Don’t worry, they are not from your lovely little birdie. I had enough to do in the last months.”
Of course. The killing spree held this city in its claws for almost 6 months now. He had read about it in the newspaper. And still he had left his s/o’s side… what an idiot he was.
“Eat up.”
Without batting an eyelash, he took the first little sausage and ate it.
“Good boy!” The kidnapper reached to the plate and took himself one of the sausages to eat.
“You see, I’m behaving. Why don’t you let them go?”
“Your little bird? Nah, that would be too dangerous for me, you see? Because I know who you are, Daisuke. I know how many people you’ve killed so far. And I’m not stupid enough to be one of them.” His enemy snickered and looked up to the door behind Jigen.
“But I see we have more guests than I have anticipated. Daisuke, you should have told me you were bringing your friends, so I could’ve prepared more food.”
He didn’t have to look to know that Lupin and Goemon were brought in by the lackeys of his torturer.
“Sorry, we’re not very hungry!”
Of course, Lupin had to make a show out of his capture. Trying to fight, knowing deep down that it was a dead end. Those lackeys had the power of a super human being, consisting of dead meat and an empty mind.The golem of an experienced self-called necromancer.
“I never said you were getting fed, my friend. YOU are the main dish.”
Jigen reached out to the man next to him, only to have his wrist grabbed and crushed with a sickening sound. He screamed in pain, waking up his s/o that began to stir in their ropes.
“Jigen!” Lupin had to understand by now what those things were he was fighting against.
“Silence! I will not suffer this insolence anymore.”
“Alice, let them go. You want me, you can have me. Let them go!” Clutching his broken wrist, Jigen was close to tears from the sheer pain. But the man just laughed.
“No. I wanted to break you. To make you suffer. Because you know what? That dirty little lowlife you killed 3 years ago? That was my son.”
Jigen took a breath. He had known it. He had known it and had pulled the trigger nonetheless. He was getting paid for killing this man.
“He stole money from my last contractor. I was hired.” That was the iron rule. You get paid and you do the job. Even some madman like Alice had to see that.
“Oh, it’s that easy? How much do you want? I’m buying you to kill your friends here. I’ll even give you a little extra if you help me prepare the main dish.”
“Fuck you.”
Alice took a handful of Jigen’s hair and yanked his head up.
“Then tell me, Daisuke. Your little birdie here or them. Who do you want to kill?”
“Lupin.”
He had done this. Both of them had stood on different sides of the gun before and had survived. He could pull this off again if he was given the chance.
“Fine. I’m giving you 5 chances to kill him. Bring the puny one.”
His brain dead lackeys moved with ghostly silence, dragging a still fighting Lupin with them.
Alice took the thief’s hand and placed it on the table before Jigen, fingers outstretched. Next to it he placed the cleaver.
“Take your gun and shoot him.”
Slowly he reached for his Magnum and set the barrel against Lupin’s forehead, praying for a wonder.
“One.” Before he had even the chance to pull the trigger, Alice had reached for the cleaver, spinning it in his hand, letting the blade come down on the table.
Lupin and Jigen stared at the clean cut off finger on the white table cloth, now slowly soaking up the blood.
“Two…” the cleaver was lifted again, ready to strike.
Jigen closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
The sound of a shot exploded in the almost empty warehouse as hell broke loose.
 “Inspector!”
Zenigata turned around from his arrests and watched his assistant taking one of the sausages off of the table.
“A sausage?” carefully he sniffed it and opened his mouth to eat it.
“That’s a cooked human finger, Yata,” Zenigata told the young man
With a faint smile he let his assistant run outside to throw up.
“Youth.”
Jigen looked up from his sitting position.
“Why are you here?!”
“A little ‘thank you’ would be nice, Jigen. After all we saved you bunch from killing each other.”
“And arrested us,” Goemon added.
“And gave your two partners medical assistance.”
Speaking of the devil Lupin was brought back to the now broadly grinning Inspector. The thief had his left hand bandaged but managed to give Jigen a smile.
“They are alive. Nothing serious but a few scratches and a pretty mean headache.”
Jigen relaxed and nodded as thanks before he remembered something.
“Did you call the police?!”
“He called me himself. Saying you were deep in trouble. Giving me the name of your old friend over there.”
Jigen didn’t want to see the man that needed 4 police officers to hold him down. At least the undead lackeys which he had hypnotized and set under a heavy drug influence, were out cold and unmoving again.
Zenigata kneeled down to get on eye level with Jigen, only to whisper into his ear.
“He won’t reach prison alive.” With that the Inspector got up and went away.
  The cell wasn’t half bad. Big enough for two inmates even if every one of them was imprisoned on their own. At least he could see in the cell opposite of him in which his s/o laid, still sleeping a lot.
The doctor had said they were okay besides a mild concussion. Lupin had told him so, too. But he didn’t dare to hope until he saw his s/o moving on the simple bed.
“Hey,” he called out softly.
“Hey,” they murmured back, the voice thick with sleep.
“I’m sorry,” he told them.
“Nah. I’m sorry,” they replied.
“What for?” It wasn’t the fault of his s/o for being targeted or caught.
“I forgot to buy your cigarettes.”
He blinked before it hit him.
“Do you remember why you are here?” A faint hope was growing inside his head.
“Because Lupin did something stupid and we got caught?”
Jigen laughed. He couldn’t believe it. All the torture and the things that had happened, had been forgotten by his s/o? Of course, the doctor had said something about having a slight amnesia of the things happened shortly before the concussion would be natural. But this? This was pure gold.
He would take care of the fact that his s/o would never remember this gruesome incident.
“If you’re enjoying your stay, I can leave you behind,” the guard in front of his cell said.
A bit surprised by this comment, Jigen’s eyes trailed down the guard’s arm only to see a thickly bandaged hand.
“Lupin.”
“You owe me a finger, my friend. But first let me get you out of here.”
With a click the lock opened, while Goemon made short work of the prison door of Jigen’s s/o.
“As thanks, let me invite you. I know a good diner not far from here. It serves sausages in all varieties,” Jigen shot back with a forced smile.
“Shut up.”
With a confused look, his s/o hugged Jigen and smiled at him, happy when the gunman returned the hug carefully and kissed them on their forehead.
“Let’s leave this city behind us as far as possible.”
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doof-doofblog · 4 years
Text
"Small Price To Pay For Your Freedom!"
Tuesday 15th December 2020
Hello again folks! So even more news has been revealed on what we can expect in the episodes taking place around New Year. Mick has been battling with the knowledge that he was sexually abused in his childhood years by his so-called childhood friend, Katy. Since Katy's arrival on the Square, Mick has behaviour towards his family and friends has been ruined, he's pushed everyone he loves away. Mainly I think because he can't bring him himself to accept the facts, and if he can't accept it - how can he possibly tell his family? He doesn't seem to think they'd understand, so instead of talking he's pushed everyone away, his Mum, his sister and now his wife. Devastatingly things are only going to get worse for Mick as the New Year comes, he contemplates taking his own life as his mental health and emotional feelings get worse and he feels there's no one he can turn to. I feel that this New Year is going to be an upsetting one for the Carter family.
Wow! So there's quite a bit to cover from this episode, the main two things I'll leave till the end. I'll start this blog by talking about Denise and Kim. Of course having her son with her for his first Christmas on Walford would mean a lot to Denise, however she seems to be wary of what his traditions with his adoptive family was like. She comes up with the decision to make this year a traditional Christmas for Raymond, which could might mean that they'd have to go to church. Now as the episode continued, Denise is seen chatting with the pastor from Raymond's church and he voices that he's expecting to see Raymond on Christmas Day. Only Denise isn't too sure as herself and her family are not religious, but maybe to give Raymond some familiarity, she may consider going to the church. However, something is telling me that she may come to regret her decision. We know her ex-husband, Lucas, is returning to the Square on Christmas Day, what if he just so happens to appear at the church that she takes Raymond to?!
From the recent Christmas trailer that has dropped, we see Denise look in absolute fear as she comes face-to-face with Lucas, however he doesn't seem as happy to see her, as I'm sure we see him clench his fist! What brings him back to Walford?! Could he end up ruining Denise and Raymond's Christmas?! Although, before she can start her plans for a traditional Christmas, she needs to bring her family round to the idea. At first, Kim announces that she's not a church person (maybe it'll take something more to bring Kim around to the idea)? but Patrick! Ahhhhh Patrick! How good is it to see him back on the Square?! For those of you who weren't aware, during the lockdown, Patrick had caught Covid-19 and was in intensive care, he has not been seen since the soap come back on air. This is the first time we've seen him in months! Clearly both Denise and Kim are thrilled to see him looking so healthy. Before their family reunion, Kim does as she was asks and attends the Prince Albert, for what she thinks, is her first day on the job. However, there appears to be another young girl waiting for Kathy also, named Mila. It looks as if Kim has got the wrong end of the stick and comes to realise that she'll have to fight for her position at the Prince Albert. They find that Kathy has left them a list of cocktails to make, they both appear to be making the cocktails with ease, only when they both reach for the vodka bottle, Kim yanks it from her and sends the bottle flying across the room and smashing all over the floor, just as Kathy walks in. I love how Kim is playing the sympathy card in an attempt to win Kathy over. Mila however tells the truth and admits fighting with Kim for the bottle and how she got a little competitive, interestingly, Kathy decides to give Mila the job, leaving Kim in absolute shock! I don't know whether anyone else was questioning who Mila is, or was it just me?! Could she have simply been an extra? Or will she have some unknown connection to the Fox family? Will she have anything to do with Lucas's return? Who knows, I am simply guessing and I certainly could be wrong - but it's nice to guess, right?!
Another minor thing which happened in the episode involved Tina, Gray and Shirley. Earlier in the episode, we can see Gray's frustration at the mess Tina continues to leave around his house. He informs Shirley that he's wanting his children back and if Tina can't keep things tidy then it's going to cause problems for the household, maybe Gray won't get his children back?! Shirley pleads to him to give her another chance as everything is up in the air at the moment, everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around Mick and after Tina being arrested for being a suspect in the case against Ian, it's clear that Tina's head is all over the place, she tries to fight her sister's corner, even stating that if Tina leaves, then so will she, and it's clear that Gray wouldn't want Shirley to leave as she's been the support he's needed in recent weeks. He softly agrees to let Tina stay, however later on in the episode, Tina questions her sister as to why Gray is so on edge when it comes to the mess. Tina can see that her sister is hiding something and she questions whether Gray has anything on his sister which is making her stay. But Shirley reassures her sister and warns her that if she tells her the truth, it goes no further! It's then she takes the brave decision in informing Tina about the night she found Gray threatening to blaze the house with him and the children inside. Tina can't believe what she's hearing, she fears that she could be living with a potential killer (She's not wrong there - Oooh if only she knew!) Oh!!! That could be the big question now couldn't it?! - We know that Luisa Bradshaw-White will be leaving her role as Tina, what if she comes to realise that Gray is incredibly dangerous? What if she confronts him about what Shirley told her and she becomes the target of his anger? Could Tina be Gray's second victim?!
Now focusing on one of the main aspects of the episode, involving Rainie and Stuart. Earlier on in the episode, Stuart approaches his wife with the news that he's made an appointment for them to go a surrogacy clinic, however Rainie seems pretty unsettling when he delivers the news. She questions what they'd have to do during their appointment, only when he mentions they'd have to take a blood test, Rainie freaks out and lashes out at her husband, claiming that it was a stupid idea and stating that neither of them are destined to be parents, this leaves Stuart looking really confused - together, they want a child more than anything. So why would she lash out in this way? Honestly, it becomes very obvious to the viewer before anyone has to mention anything - the only reason why Rainie would lash out after having being told she'd need a blood test, is because she's been taking drugs and she'd fear that what they'd find in her blood would ruin their chance of becoming parents. Eventually she does come clean to husband - it's then we see the flashback of her night, during the time Ian was attack - after being insulted by Ian, Rainie was clearly feeling devastated - especially after Tiffany and Keegan changing their minds on being their surrogates earlier in the day - Ian just topped everything off for he, didn't he? She went down an alleyway and scored some drugs. Which explains her disappearing for a number of days, maybe she feared what people would say if they found out?! The moment she reveals everything to her husband is so touching, she feels as if she's become a failure again - but no matter her flaws, Stuart informs her that he still loves her, regardless of her knockback. But suddenly, with Rainie giving her version of events of her night, she questions what her husband was doing on the night Ian was attack. Now this, I didn't see coming! Stuart had gotten himself worked up for losing their surrogate, plus having to cope with the fact that his brother is struggling. We then see a flashback of Stuart's night - he was in fact stood in an alleyway, waiting to confront DI Thompson! Initially he only wanted to scare him, trying to defend his younger brother - but things got a little out of hand as Stuart punched Thompson and he ended up knocking him to the floor. It's then we come to realise that Stuart had (accidentally) killed DI Thompson, however when Rainie questions where the man is now, Stuart confesses that he's in the fridges in their undertakers. Honestly, I'm glad DI Thompson is now out of the way but I do worry if the police start searching for their colleague? His disappearance is going to be talk amongst the police, and with Callum being at the forefront of his threats, what will it mean for Callum? Does this mean that the police will stop looking for Phil and Ben? Or something much more darker?! Who knows, either way I think that revelation is the most mind-blowing of all!!
Finally, coming to Ben, Ian and Suki! At the very beginning of the episode, Ben confronts his brother after being released from the police. Ian is visibly shaken to his brother out on the Square, after he reported him to the police. Ben toys with his brother, teasing him, making him quiver in a sense by informing him that even though the police tried their best to find evidence, the only thing they found were a few of Ben's prints from a tyre iron, but to Ian's surprise, the prints didn't match to Ian's scene of attack. It's then that Ben informs his brother that after everything he's done to his family - stealing from their Mum, grassing up his own brother, Ian is now dead to Ben! The only thing I've noticed through out this scene is that Suki has been stood behind Ian, listening to their conversation the whole time. Is that just a ploy maybe?! Trying to get more information possibly to stop the attention being drawn to herself? As Ben walks away, Suki points out to Ian a letter which is hanging beside the Vic addressed to him. As Ian opens it, all that's inside is a small simple bullet. Is this some kind of warning? Will his attacker come back to finish the job? Funnily enough, Ben and Suki come into contact again at the very end of the episode, she just happens to mention to Ben that her shop has had graffiti sprayed all across it in recent weeks and she's been trying to find the culprit, Ben is polite as they share this brief conversation, but suddenly Suki takes the story on another direction, by informing that her shop has CCTV, but even though she hasn't found the culprit who keeps spray painting her shop, what she has found is footage of Ben leaving the Queen Vic on the night Ian was attacked. Ben instantly realises that he needs to find a way to keep her quiet, instantly he simply just asks her out straight how much it would cost for her to keep quiet and not show the CCTV to the police. She demands £10,000 for her silence!!!
Now what will Ben do? Will he give her the money? Do we actually think he's the guilty one who attacked Ian? I, personally, am not so sure. I'd like to say it wasn't him. I feel the ones we can rule out now are Bobby, Tina, Rainie and Stuart. I still think there could be a chance it was Max, Peter, Sharon or Kheerat. I'd like to think it's not Ben, I hope it's not him! What do you guys think? Do you have a theory of who Ian's attacker could be?! Please feel free to leave me and thoughts, comments or theories you may have, I'd love to hear them! Thank you all again for reading, I really do appreciate it! Love you all xXx
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