#ok i got the walls (majority of it anyway) and the floor done

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

after failing miserably the first go around, (crochet) Home's walls are complete! we're less than halfway there but hey! The Walls!

[onboardsorasora]

Renovation AU

Ok I tried to stop but I couldn't stop thinking about Renovation AU (especially considering I was literally going to write it then got derailed by Enchated AU: Christmas). And then when I wrote this little snippet it was like floodgates. so here it is Renovation AU in all its outline glory all 2k words of it 🥴🥴🥴I'll just put it under the cut

Max is a handyman/contractor. I know I know. We know how his hammer skills are and how he looks holding it and an axe. But let's just pretend he actually learned this skill and he's fucking hot about it and it triggers every competency kink.

He's built, he was able to grow into his stockiness and he's strong (I'm thinking like that tree splitting tiktok guy but not as Thor thick)

Christian hires Nyck as an interior designer and Nyck hires on Max and his small team. They get shit done. Geri wants to redo the whole cottage and they have until the start of the riding season? to get it done. (Don't question me. I know nothing about riding)

So anyways– they’re behind and Christian doesn’t think Nyck can manage the scope of the job so he fires him and hires on Daniel. Daniel’s a little bit more eclectic than Nyck– but he came highly recommended by Lewis and Seb and Geri loved what he did with their house in Switzerland so she had no problems changing directions a bit.

The problem becomes clear because Max and Nyck work well together, they know each other. Max doesn’t like big change and Daniel is a big change. He’s also good looking but that doesn’t matter. He’s annoying and picky and refuses to go by Nyck’s old plans and his laugh is funny and endearing and his face is pretty and his tattoos are cool.

But none of that matters. None.

Daniel is excited to get working, but he thinks Christian could have been a bit more forthcoming about how far behind they were. Daniel was expecting that maybe he’d be starting on some walls or something, he came with with swatches and tiles and everything. But no….the house is still pretty husk-like. And he’s annoyed cause now he’s standing there in his shorts and sneakers looking like a dick on this construction site.

Anyway, it doesnt matter because he comes prepared! He has like overalls in his raptor. So he grabs that and changes right there in full view of god and everyone. Why yes he is wearing his hot pink hot pants, thanks for fucking noticing. The creative juices always flow when he’s wearing them!

So he goes to Max– who is fucking hot– and also very angry with him. And Daniel gets it, because he and Nyck were friends and there's nothing worse than seeing your friend get fired for things out of their control.

No matter, Daniel is profesh. He can work in almost any environment and he’s not going to embarrass Sewis like that. They’re long time clients and friends. And their recommendations are always highly regarded.

So Daniel gets to work, first he’s helping this guy named Simon update the bricking outside, Geri wanted a whitewash on the southern side so the garden doesn’t get too hot and it’ll match with the new patio going in. Then he’s helping a guy named Genty inside the bathroom– a couple of the pipes needed updating. There weren’t any leaks but no one uses lead pipes anymore for reasons. And then he helps GP lay some new tiles in the bedrooms so that the floors are heated in the winter.

So this is going on for a few days, Daniel helping members of the team, building a rapport– keeping a wide berth of Max. Because Daniel knows when to not ruffle feathers. But he can’t avoid him forever, so finally when all the walls are up and the electrical is done. Daniel goes to Max with the new plans– because his part of the show is about to start.

Max…isn’t happy. Sure the changes aren’t that major, and it's not like they’ll be undoing anything his team has already done. But how dare this guy with his hot accent and laugh come in and befriend his team?! If Max had to hear one more inside joke that he has no clue about or hear his crew talk about Daniel this and Daniel that, he was going to throw a hammer.

So when Daniel comes to him one evening to go over plans, Max doesn’t really want to hear it. He’s come here in his shiny truck (untrue, the truck is dirty as fuck– they work in a construction site), in his tight fucking pants (ok true, Daniel’s work pants are a tad on the skinny side), and his fucking city boots (it was one day the first day. And Max will never let it go), and his gelled hair (ok fine, he makes sure to use his curl cream. Daniel is vain), and tries to take over Max’s job site.

So Max lays into him, letting out all his frustration and pent up sexual tension for this guy that he’s barely interacted with but hears all the time and sees his team– his friends enjoy his presence and maybe he also feels a little left out. And Daniel just stands there and takes it, doesn’t interrupt him, doesn’t fight back. Even when Max is saying blatantly untrue things– but he got a good rant going and Daniel wasn’t stopping him so he was just gonna keep going.

“–and your fucking hot pink–” Max cuts himself off because there was no reason to finish that thought. And Daniel gets this smug fucking grin on his face that Max just wants to kiss off.

“My hot pink what now?” Daniel raises a brow in a challenge that Max is so not going to take. But Daniel is nothing, if not a little shit. “Were you checking me out when I was oh so privately changing that one time Maxy?”

“You stripped in the middle of the driveway while everyone was working. That was hardly private, I think Daniel.”

“But no one else has mentioned my hot pink underwear Maxy Max. Did you like what you saw?” Daniel is dragging a finger along Max’s shoulder at this point and Max is just..frozen in place because how did we get here????

“I– well–You are changing in the middle of a site Daniel. You, of course, cannot be crying modesty now!”

“You wanna know what other colours I wear?”

“Don’t be silly Daniel.”

“Of course not Maxy, yesterday when I was tiling the guest bedroom with GP, I wore my favourite bright green pair that has some smokey black watercolour pattern. And when I was outside doing the patio I was wearing this pretty yellow polka dot ones.”

“I think that's enough Daniel, maybe. I do not–” Max is trying to push him away because when did he even get cornered by this wall? Who put a wall here??

“Oh but I think you’ll like the pair for today, you’re Dutch right? Do all Dutchies like the colour orange?”

“That’s enough Daniel I think! We–we can do the plan your way! It should look great–Geri will love it! I–I think I should go. Have a good night Daniel!” And Max manhandles Daniel out of his way and gtfo’s. He does not think about how Daniel’s waist felt under his arms because why did he even grab there??? He does not think about the fucking hot smirk on Daniels stupid face and kissable mouth and he absolutely does not think about Daniel’s ass in orange hot pants. Nope. He doesn’t.

That changes everything of course. He’s way more aware of where Daniel is in the house now. And its not like Daniel is going anything different. They speak now, and Daniel teases him with tool puns and very bad jokes and Max laughs at every single one because he’s down so bad. And everyone knows it.

Daniel makes random comments when they're alone, pouring over the blueprints and notes, about how Max’s thighs look like they can crush things and the he’ll make a loud offhand comment to the guys about having thighs wrapped around his face when they’re all making increasingly lewd sex jokes at lunch.

Daniel tells Max that he likes his thigh holster and Max internalizes the implications. So what if he’s blushing while they install the kitchen– he’s exerting himself!

Anyway they’re getting closer to the deadline, they have furniture delivery coming soon and there's still so much to do. Daniel has the team painting and wallpapering and Genty is doing the crown moulding and GP is finishing up the fireplace in the den and Max and Daniel are arguing about a chandelier that Geri wanted last minute. 

“We can extend it a little lower by three maybe four inches, c’mon Max it’ll really change like the look of the room. If it's too high then it’ll look too small and throws everything off.”

They're standing in the middle of the formal dining room, surrounded by chaos. Everyone is tired and a bit cranky because they’ve truly been going non-stop to meet this deadline. 

“It’ll be too low Daniel and the weight distribution will be off." Max sighs because he’s tired of arguing about this.

"Well if your guys installed the fucking beams–" Max had enough, he was tired, he was annoyed and he would not have Daniel complain about his team and fucking beams so late in the build. He sees white and he pushes Daniel’s chest. He’s mad, you don’t talk about his guys. He’s mad and Daniel is annoying and fuck. Max presses Daniel up against the wall and kisses him hard. And Daniel grips his shoulder and kisses him back.

And literally no one bats an eyelash because fucking finally. They can get shit finished now.

So they compromise on 2.5 inches lower. And Max is now wired because now he knows what Daniel feels like under him, pressed against him. Now he knows how his lips and mouth taste and what Daniel’s stubble feels like against his jaw.

It's late another night, the guys have all gone home and Max is with Daniel in the finally finished kitchen, going over what’s left to be done. Daniel’s team would be coming with the furniture install in 2 days so they needed to have everything done for them to take over.

Their time together is coming to an end and Max can’t stop looking at Daniel’s focused face while he makes a list and tries to figure out the best way to make things work. He’s staring at Daniel’s lips, at his nose, at the furrow of his brows.

Daniel looks up at him like ‘what?’, eyes wide and owlish? They really haven’t spoken about the kiss– not about it or what it meant or anything.

And then Max is kissing Daniel again and Daniel is all in. And it’s a push and pull between them and it’s hot and messy and they fuck right there in the kitchen. Daniel sucks Max’s dick in the nook that the stove’s supposed to go in and Max bends Daniel over the countertop (which they had argued about whether it was the correct height–it was).

Anyway so the house is finished, Geri is in love. Christian is happy with it all and life goes on. Max and Daniel go on a few dates, they fuck a lot and when Daniel got hired for another big job, he hired on Max as his contractor. 

It kinda went that way for a little bit, them doing jobs together, their teams merging until they make the leap to start a business together. Which incidentally happened before they took the step to move in together. Which is funny because they technically already did. A lot of Daniel’s stuff– clothes, plans, swatches– are already strewn around Max’s place and the cats know to leave the tiles and swatches alone. But moving together is a big step. Starting a business together is just smart. Anyway, they love each other and are grossly in love and their guys tease them about it daily. And Daniel now starts every job in his hot pink hot pants.

[jacks-tracks]

Templo Major

Templo Mejor

Last day in Mexico city for museums. There are several I wanted to see but were closed or overbooked. A wander through the local area put me on street of fabric vendors, stores filled with rolls of every imaginable colour, slabs of foam, curtains and tablecloths. Left turn up towards the Zocalo, but the City museum was closed, so next on the map was the Templo Mejor, the site of the Aztecs main temple, discovered by street diggers, destroyed by Spaniards for building blocks for the cathedral. Long a vacant lot, planned for access, but not far underground was a huge stone disc with hyroglyphics(sp?). There proved to be a square block of ruins, some 20 feet deep. Plaza, temples, tombs, all carefully excavated, and artifacts removed to an onsite museum. From the street it looked like every other old site, crumbling walls, busted blocks, a few glyphs. However, the museum was one of the best yet, with a thousand items well displayed over 7 salas on 3 floors, well lit, but only Spanish plaques. As the authors are only guessing about the history and uses(no native history left) not reading the cards was OK. What continues to amaze me is the sheer volume of stuff found, lots in good condition. Clearly these people had a thriving crafts and tool market, and lots got dumped or lost. Thousands of spear points, obsidian knives, blades and pottery, bowls and cups, water coolers, and ritual pieces. The figurines were in excellent condition, some with original paint. Here were the childrens toy animals , pull toys on wheels, the only use of the wheel in this civilization(odd!). Despite the annoyance of having my water confiscated at the entrance, the 90 peso fee was well worth it,.

Up towards downtown(OK it,s all "downtown"), and I ambled into a museum only to realize i,d seen it before. Out and the National Museum that I really wanted to see was fully booked (tours only) with a standby maybe at 1 pm. Next i went through the huge wooden double doors to a magnificent 3 tiered courtyard surrounded by an art museum. Realized I,d been here too, but more salas were open and the rest were well worth a revisit Some of the paintings of streams and forests were 10 foot by 20, with massive gilt frames, and all well done, It's hard to paint water, but the ponds and streams seemed to flow, and the series of Mexico city as a pueblo on a lake had good perspective. I wandered the ballroom again with the frescoe 50 feet overhead and slogged up the marble staircases. All museums have washrooms which is convenient.

I,d gotten hungry so actually stopped at McDonalds for a chicken burger and gulped a Sprite(remember the confiscated water?). Crap food, but filled the spot. On to the Alameda searching for the Cafe Pagoda with the quality bakery. A few missteps and a couple of questions and there it was. More Strawberry shortcake and apple strudel(supper) and a tart for breakfast. The crowds were still surging up and down the pedestrian only streets and i realized that the sheer volume of tourists never stopped..Many of them could be from Mexico city, having 35 million to draw on. Anyway, an ice cream cone and back to Hotel Isabel to try and fit all my stuff into a daypack. It,s been a goal of mine to travel light and for these 2 weeks I have. Washed the shirt de jour nightly, stuffed my new tapetes in the bottom and abandoned my flip flops. books and odds/sods.

Now it,s off on a bus, hopefully the right one, for the aeropuerto

and my Volaris flight to Puerto. This has been an interesting and succesful trip, stimulating and challenging, just what i wanted. More from Casa Dan.....

[jmdbjk]

Jimin’s bday WeLive v.2022

As I am listening in the first few minutes, I am having difficulty determining if the background sounds I am hearing are a door opening and closing and perhaps someone moving around in the room or is that his feet and shoes under the table? Like maybe it’s the shuffling sound of his shoes/feet? And he does look off to the side every now and then, sometimes just glancing at nothing? but also a few times actually looks as if his eyes focus on something specific...or not. Maybe not.

You know, I have seen the comments about hearing a certain someone whisper “Jjyaman” during a moment but me, being the skeptical asshole I am, just pooh-poohed that... y’all are reaching! don’t be like them! But now.... (listens very very carefully now). Hmmm. 

Jimin putting up his own printed out birthday decor on the wall and he can’t seem to hang them correctly and me over here with my most basic of basic, like SCREAMING basic knowledge of Hangul can tell right away that he is hanging some of them upside down... Jimin, hun.... you are a born-and-educated-in-Korea, Korean... full bleed as we say here. It’s upside-down, babe. 

Ok, Jimin sucks at handling tape. We know its not his first time too... 

Finally he sees his mistakes and corrects the ones hanging upside-down... goodness. But now I am spurred on to get on with it on my Hangul lessons. FIGHTING! Anyway.

OMG him singing Happy Birthday in English, his pronunciation is immaculate. Him reading some of the comments in English! He understands that Army is majority international and I am grateful to him for making the effort to sharpen his English skills. I will do the same with Korean.

I can also hear traffic in the background... that room must be on the ground floor of the building or close to/facing Hangang-Daero (the main thoroughfare that the HYBE building is on). And it’s midnight there and that traffic still sounds like hell. 

Jimin showing us his photo folio book and not wanting to spoil it for us... unintentionally artistic? Right. 

Jimin asking if he’s too ugly after using those purple sunglasses to hold his hair out of the way... BAHAHAHAHAHAH.... if he only knew how much we all just swooned and fainted when he did that! At least I did. Bless his heart.

Ok, I got to the part where everyone swears it’s JK whispering “JJyaman” but I think it’s just Jimin saying “jyah” just like he did 17 seconds prior, only softer the second time. Yep, that’s me, crusher of delusions. Sorry. 

I love how he’s so confident he can make this LEGO flower in no time and immediately can’t find the correct parts.... hahahahah... and his need to prove he can multitask... so cute of him. Relax, Jimin, it’s a LEGO kit, not a 4-minute high impact complex choreography in which you have to sing and hit the high notes on key. We know you got skillz. You don’t need to impress us with a LEGO kit.

Hahahaha! “You should read the instructions first” he says 30 minutes into it... that’s the left side speaking there... if you know, you know. Also, why does he have to pick the most difficult kits to be his first go at it? He’s such a nerd doing this. And I love him 2000% more for that. Then he realizes it took him 45 minutes to make that one flower hahahahahha! 

Something I noticed...remember in the Las Vegas V Live when Jungkook came in at the end and the pillows fell off the back of the couch and Jimin explained to him they were trying to hide that nude picture on the wall and Jungkook looked up at it and went all smirky “oh... ho ho ho ho” ... Remember that? Jimin has done that exact thing twice in this video. Talk about picking up each other’s mannerisms... classic. 

And I guess time will tell what exactly did he mean by this:

I know they know and they know we don’t know so LET US KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING JJYAMANNN!!!

Ok, I genuinely think he was alone in the room. That flower balloon was slightly reflective and I did not see any strange unexplainable movements during the entire video. Or... who are you looking at Jimin?

But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone waiting outside the room and watching on the other side of the glass.... 

I am impressed Weverse got the subs up so quickly. Jimin must have been wearing his lawyer chelsea boots yesterday. 

Ok, I am off for the evening to try to get some sleep and wake up in time for the concert. See you all on the other side.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

sir, ma’am, person, or other pronouns, you cannot just post good writing ideas right before I sleep /j

I’d like to see that golden house prompt as a short story,,, possibly????😳

-💃

spoiler! i ain't good at choreographing fights but uh i THINK i was poetic enough so it still sounds cool??? hope that's ok!! this is also inspired by some of the brainrot i've been having and getting in the past few days so i can definitely make a part two!! also normal Childe’s there for a bit original prompt was of FL Childe injuring you during the golden house fight!! read Part Two here!!: The Sky’s Tears ~ * ~ Golden House is Falling Down Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Angst Warnings: Worrying, descriptions of anger, fighting (battles), a corpse, allusions to blood, pain, potential death, lightning, electrocution

~ * ~

Sometimes Childe worried you. It came with his job, you supposed. You were well aware of his status as a Fatui Harbinger, although you’ve never personally seen him at work- it had been a casual accident when you walked into him discussing plans with his subordinates. The two of you hadn’t been close back then, only acquaintances, and he made you swear to secrecy. Well, technically he had threatened you, but you didn’t particularly mind. You weren’t as in love with Liyue as some of your friends were, and you, unlike many people, understood the importance of a well-paying job. Having his position exposed to the public could very well get him fired. Those had been your concerns, so long ago. But now, as you hurried after the Traveler in all their glory, those pitiful worries seemed so far away, replaced instead by anxious thoughts flurrying by about life and death. You weren’t anyone of particular importance in the harbor, but you always made sure to pay careful attention to any rumors and gossip you heard. You always took them with a grain of salt, of course, but you had long ago learned that it was good to keep things you heard in your mind as potential possibilities. Liyue had a habit of having “impossible” events happen anyways. It really got on your nerves sometimes. Last week’s whispers had been full of a Fatui plan about meddling with the panicking government, after Rex Lapis had allegedly fallen from the sky, his status as the oldest living archon gone. Seeing that the Fatui’s reputation wasn’t particularly good, you had filed the thought away to consider later. A few days later, it came true. And Childe seemed to vanish into thin air, shifting your worries instantaneously over to him. It was funny, how close the two of you had gotten in the weeks he’d been in Liyue. At least, you were close to him. The Traveler was kind enough to let you accompany them to the famed Golden House, just to cover all possible leads. Their steps are light and quick as you approach the elegant building, all lined with gold and jade, and you can almost hear the tinkling sound of mora within. The Traveler stares up at the enormous door, clutching their sword. They seem prepared for a fight. You gulp, hoping that their stance is just how they stand as a default. The doors to the Golden House swing open, and the Traveler gestures for you to follow them, a determined look in their eyes. You enter together, and momentarily you’re distracted by the piles of mora scattered around the floor- probably more mora than you’d see in your entire life. Your eyes scan the room as the glimmer of coins snatches your attention, a tendency that friends and family had always teased you lightheartedly about- they’d call you a crow or a magpie. You didn’t mind being a bird. It sounded fun, to fly away from all your problems. Finally your gaze lands on the corpse of Rex Lapis, floating in the center-back of the room like a morbid decoration put on display. Despite it being very, very dead, it emanates an aura of power, and you involuntarily shiver, the temperature seeming to drop by a few degrees. Suddenly you hear the great doors of the Golden House slam shut, and someone’s voice questions why they, the Traveler, still lingered. The three of you, little Paimon included, turn in surprise. It’s Childe, the very person you were fretting over and looking for. You sigh quietly in relief, but your fleeting moment of calm is quickly dashed as the Traveler silently challenges him to a duel. Hastily you scramble to get out of the way, and just barely find yourself “out-of-bounds” when the arena for their fight flares to life as they both ready their weapons. Childe retrieves his bow with a twisted smile, a counterpart to the Traveler’s iron stoicness. But it seems his gaze lingers on you, and softens for a brief moment, something you tell yourself is just your imagination, because you doubt he was ever your friend to begin with. As someone whose work isn’t associated with adventuring, your knowledge of combat is limited, but even you can see the

skill of both the Traveler and Childe as their blades clash. Several times a burst of elemental energy strikes the burning walls of the arena, and you’re thankful for the barrier between you and them, because you have very little chance of surviving the power of their abilities. When Childe’s clothes darken and the mask falls over his face, you remember hearing something about a far more powerful and dangerous version of Visions- Delusions, items the Tsaritsa, Cryo Archon and ruler of Snezhnaya, rewards to her most loyal and deserving followers. Childe’s is Electro, and the crackle of static energy he slashes towards the Traveler makes your hair stand on end. You shield your eyes from the bright lights dancing around the arena, and when you reopen them, Childe has disappeared. And he reappears next to Rex Lapis’ corpse. Several things happen at once. The Geo Archon’s Gnosis is gone, taken by neither the Harbinger or the Traveler. Paimon looks worried, the Traveler looks shocked, and Childe enraged- You blink and he’s changed. Suddenly several feet taller, he now floats, some sort of terrible creature you’ve never seen before. Everything is loud, too loud, and you clap your hands over your ears, as the floor breaks away beneath you. And you fall with the Traveler and Paimon into the chamber below. You feel something catch you- an enormous clawed hand- and set you down more or less gently into a single large room. The room is the arena, an arena you stand in with no escape. The Gnosis is gone, and Childe is a monster, one of both Hydro and Electro and a foreign, starry magic that makes your skin crawl. And the battle only continues. Luckily the Traveler is adamant on staying away from you, drawing Childe’s attacks to the other side of the arena entirely, and for a majority of the fight the most you have to do is dodge falling arrows and water amalgamations. Childe’s furious questions about the Gnosis soon fade into hisses and growls as he loses himself more and more into the horrible joy of battle. You lean over, coughing slightly from the water that splashed you as a consequence of his attacks and the exertion from dodging and keeping your balance in the Hydro-soaked room. The Traveler screams, and you look up too late as a burst of electro slashes across your chest. Then everything goes white and high pitched, your senses bursting alongside the elemental energy as it runs up your damp skin and clothes. The pain from the combination of Hydro and Electro in your veins brings tears to your eyes, and it’s only amplified around your torso as you vaguely feel something warm and sticky dripping down. Someone shakes you, panicking, calling your name, but everything is white, cold noise. The sounds around you are muffled as the battle slows to a halt, and all you hear is ringing. Another hand, sharp and clawed, brushes against your arm, but it retreats when someone starts shouting. A blade is brandished as someone yells at a monster to stay away, he’s done enough damage, how dare he, and you hear a mournful, desperate chitter through the haze of static. Ah, that curious sound, it makes your heart ache. But what, or who, is it? The sword slices through the air as the monster is pushed away by a blonde-haired Traveler’s rage, and it soon joins into the pitching, ringing note in your ears before it tapers into silence and sorrow, leaving only the inky abyss of darkness crawling up to your eyes as the pain fades into weightlessness. This time, you let yourself fall. In the harbor, the Fair Lady is informed that the Golden House is falling down, falling down.

[harleybeaumont]

Love Me The Way I Am - Book 1

Chapter 5

Pairings: Maxwell x Harley (MC), more in future chapters

Book: TRR Book 2

Synopsis- After King Liam proposes to Madeleine, Harley and Maxwell grow closer while they attempt to uncover who’s behind her blackmail. Maxwell is hiding a medical condition he’s kept secret for most of his life. Due to his father constantly berating Maxwell during his youth, he believes no one will ever love him.. until Harley comes along and he dares to hope.

A/N- This somewhat follows along with the events in TRR Book 2. I have removed/added certain events to go along with my story! Harley Hughes is my character who is based loosely off of Riley. The other characters belong to PB.

Warnings- language, drinking, sensuality, some NSFW

18+ only

Word count- 1,736

Catch up here.

Harley spent the day with Bertrand reviewing the names of Kings and Queens and Countesses and Dukes and everything in between, all while fighting a major headache. After lunch she took a nap to sleep off her hangover and was feeling much better by dinner time. Maxwell made himself scarce so Bertrand wouldn't figure out that he was also hungover and put two and two together. 

Bertrand knocked on her door before dinner, “Lady Harley if you would please wear this gown tonight so that we may practice once more the proper dinner etiquette while wearing one's finest.”

“Bert I've done this every day for weeks! I know what I'm doing by now.” Harley leaned her head against the wall and rolled her eyes.

Bertrand put his fingers on his temples, “Harley, were getting down to the wire here. We leave for Countess Madeleine’s home tomorrow morning to start the engagement tour! There can be no mistakes once you are in front of the court. This will be your first appearance and no one even knows you are attending.”

Harley knew there was no point in arguing so she grabbed the dress from him. “Yup. Got it.”

After an exasperating dinner she packed her suitcases and texted Max:

‘Missed you at dinner. How you feelin?

Maxwell- ‘Better. But now I'm wide awake because I just took a 4 hour nap.. 😳 How about you?’

‘I'm good. Wanna hang out tonight? I'm too nervous to sleep anyway.’

Maxwell- ‘ya i'll be right there!’

Harley left her bedroom door open for Maxwell while she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. She started thinking of everything from the night before; her dancing against him, him really enjoying it, and them waking up next to each other in the morning. She wondered if he remembered everything. She felt her face get hot. 

Maxwell knocked before he came in and gave her a concerned look. “You ok Harley?” 

She must have looked as flustered as she felt. “Uh huh! Yep! Guess I am still feeling a little blah. So.. you remember everything that happened last night?”

Maxwell fidgeted with his fingers while he leaned against her door frame. Oh ya I remember. Play it cool. “Ya I think so! Dancing, drinks, more dancing, more drinks, truth or truth, and…movies right?”

Harley looked down at the floor. “So.. Do you remember how I ended up taking my clothes off and getting under the blankets?”

Maxwell chuckled and blushed, “Uh ya.. You said your dress was shrinking so you took it off. Then you passed out, so I tucked you in.”

“Oh my gosh, please tell me you're joking!” She covered her face with her hands. “Shrinking?! Ugh I'm sorry that I'm such a lush.. That's so embarrassing.”

Maxwell smiled and started to reach for her hand, but pulled back. “Don't worry about it.  What are.. BFF’s for?”

“Right.. BFF’s..” She looked away and nodded. “Thanks for tucking me in though. That's really sweet.” 

They stood in silence for a moment until Maxwell pushed out a breath and said, “wanna go for a walk?”

“Outside, at night?”

“Why not? Don't tell me Harley Quinn is scared! I'll be Batman and protect you.” He winked. “After all, that was my Halloween costume three years in a row.”

“You know Harley Quinn is in love with the Joker right?”

Maxwell smiled, “well that's probably more fitting for me anyway.”

She looked down and smiled shyly. Ya, it really is.

As they walked along the pathway around the dimly lit estate, Harley began to realize how much this place was starting to feel like home. She looked up at a sky full of stars that she never got to see back in New York. A warm breeze ruffled the trees and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air. She didn't know what she would do when they sent her back. She knew she couldn't stay forever, but maybe she could move to Cordonia. Get a job and a small apartment.

“See that small hill over there?” Maxwell pointed in the distance. “That's where me and Bertrand tried to pop a wheelie on his dirt bike and I fell off and broke my damn leg. I was 5 years old.” 

He smiled, “My mum used to take us out there for picnics before that, so at least I have some good memories there.”

“Well.. I'm glad the good memories outnumber the bad ones. She sounds like she was a really good mom.”

“The best.” He scuffed his shoes on the gravely path. 

It was obvious after a few minutes that he wasn't going to say any more, so she broke the silence.  “You know.. no matter how many stories I hear about Bertrand riding a dirt bike, I just can't get an image in my head!”

Maxwell chuckled, “I know. He didn't used to be so.. Bertrand-like.”

“What happened?”

Maxwell took a deep breath, “My father happened.”

She looked up at him cautiously. “Can I.. ask what that means?”

Maxwell stopped walking and turned to her. “Harley, let's just say that my dad wasn't a good man. I don't want to weigh you down with the details but…  he didn't treat us very well.”

Harley looked up at him. “Max, it seems like you have a lot of anger toward your dad.. I don't want to push you but.. Sometimes it does help to get it off your chest. But I totally understand if you don’t wanna tell me.” She hoped she hadn't overstepped.

“Wow.” He said. “I don't think anyone has ever said that to me before. Except maybe my therapist.”

Harley looked worried.

“That last bit.. was a joke.” He shook his head, “Sorry.. I'm sorry. I don't have a therapist, but that's not something to joke about. I don't know why I said it. I'm just not used to someone wanting me to be serious, I guess.”

She grabbed his hand and smiled. “It's ok. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Let's just keep walking.”

She held his hand for a minute as they made their way to the peacock pen. 

“There are my babies!” Maxwell said in a singsong voice as he approached the gate.

“You're so funny. Why not a dog, or cat, or something normal for a pet?”

“Harley, you should know by now that Maxwell Beaumont is not normal.” 

“That's for sure!” She bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Wanna pet them?” He unlocked the gate and Harley stepped back.

“I don't know.. They're kind of scary. Their ‘talons’ or whatever they're called are so sharp, what if they scratch me?! Or what if they peck me!?”

Maxwell laughed, “Harley Quinn, the Joker is here to protect you from the evil peacocks.”

She smiled, “Fine. Just.. go in front of me.”

Maxwell walked into the large pen and she followed cautiously behind. 

“They sleep on top of their little house or the tree branches at night. They never sleep on the ground.”

“Are they going to be pissed that we're bothering them while they're supposed to be sleeping?” Harley whispered.

“Nah, they love their daddy.”

Just then, one of the peacocks jumped down next to Harley and let out a shriek so loud it echoed throughout the grounds.

“Holy fucking shit!” Harley ran out of there as fast as she could, but tripped on the gate on the way out and landed in the grass.

Harley looked back for Maxwell but she couldn't see him. She stood up and dusted herself off, “Ugh, demon birds!”  She peeked back into the pen and found Max sitting on the ground, laughing so hard he couldn't stand up.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with that thing?!” 

“Oh god Harley… I can't breathe!” He had tears running down his face. “Have you never heard them make that sound before?”

“Only from far away!! These things are the worst! You knew they would do that didn’t you!?”

Maxwell tried to stop laughing and catch his breath as he stood up, “Well..I figured this guy in particular would. It's mating season and he's looking for love!”

He walked out of the pen and hugged her. “I'm sorry I didn't protect you from the scary peacock mating call. Did you get hurt?”

Harley laughed, “No.. just humiliated.”

“Ah it's fine. He's just always horny; that's why I named him Fuckface. And the first time I heard him scream, I literally peed my pants. Thankfully nobody else knows about that.”

Harley took out her phone and danced away from him, “Nobody else knows about it yet. I'm gonna send Drake a quick text-” 

Maxwell snatched her phone away and held it in the air. “Do it and I'll throw it back in the pen with your best friend over there.”

She jumped on his back and tried to grab it from him, but her efforts were futile; he was at least a foot taller than her. “You wouldn't dare!”

They playfully fought over the phone for a minute, but Harley tripped and started to fall over. Maxwell tried to catch her, but when he started falling too, he spun around so she would land on top of him. 

“Oof! Did I squish you?”

“Of course not!” 

She looked at him and chuckled in embarrassment. “Sorry, I'm such a klutz.” 

Maxwell stopped laughing and looked up into her eyes with a longing expression she had never seen before. He tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Time stood still. Harley was acutely aware of his muscular body underneath her. She could feel his heart racing against her own. She felt the warmth from his hand against her lower back. Harley swallowed hard, Oh my god is this really happening? Her heart fluttered and she leaned in.

Just then there was another loud scream from inside the peacock pen and they broke apart, looking at each other sheepishly. Maxwell helped her up and said, “Uh, I guess we should get some sleep. Gotta get up early in the morning..”

“Right. “ Harley dusted herself off, too embarrassed to look at Max. 

They walked back to the manor in silence. Harley looked back at the peacock pen and narrowed her eyes as she flipped them off. Damn you, Fuckface! 

[wildlyglittering]

The Perils of Being Mr. Nesta Archeron

It’s important you understand this is my incredibly poor attempt at comedy and I just wanted to write some nonsense.

This popped into my brain after seeing all the posts about how awesome Nesta is and how she had a ridiculous amount of marriage proposals and interest from human men, fae males and demons alike. 

I just kind of took it from there...

***

“I still like what Nesta’s done to the place.”

Feyre looked around the grand drawing room of the House of Wind, her dozing son on her lap and her bored mate at her side who murmured something which could be taken as an agreement while pulling off imaginary pieces of lint from his sleeve.

The House was now Nesta’s, in as much as anything sentient could truly belong to anyone, and as such was rarely used for official Night Court business. Its predominant function was as home to Nesta, Cassian and a reluctant Azriel, who’d been gifted the responsibility of ‘supervisor’ – a gift which Feyre suspected he’d like to return.

The Inner Circle still held Starfall at the House and, like now, the High Lord and High Lady of Night, would visit. When she visited alone, Feyre visited in the capacity of sister and friend but when with Rhys, it was all work.

Nesta and Cassian had embraced their titles as the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death and their combined reputations proceeded them sending them into every corner of Prythian and the many dark outer reaches was a tactic Rhys now employed.

The aim was to achieve negotiations and encourage peaceful surrenders where necessary but if there was resulting collateral damage, it was of little consequence to Rhys.

The other reason that the House was seldom used for official Night Court business was the unnerving issue of the House itself. Whilst the majority of the architecture remained unchanged there was the occasional surprise addition. Or subtraction.

Amren discovered the House’s penchant for the latter when, on one uninvited call, she opened a door which should have led to private chambers only to find herself plummeting through the air onto the ground. She swore blind the House foundations quivered like it was laughing.

Feyre wondered how independently the House acted from Nesta and how much it carried out her wishes. She suspected that this room, the grand drawing room, had been one of Nesta’s heart fulfilments or, at least, something for Cassian.

The room was sizable, entered from the hallway via a series of doorway arches wide enough for splayed Illyrian wings. Oversized plush furniture filled the room and the floors were strewn with thick sable rugs.

The most spectacular draw to the room was the window which stretched from ceiling to floor and from wall to wall on the side opposite the doorways. The view, one across Velaris’ golden rooftops and shining turquoise waters of the Sidra, filled the space like a painting.

Feyre sighed, at least this current visit was expected and so they weren’t risking the windows opening of their own accord to fling them out. The occupants of the House had been gone for longer than anticipated on this task and so Rhys sent ahead a message that he wanted a full debrief when they returned.

Feyre opened her mouth to speak again but stopped when she heard the thud of boots and flutter of wings.

“Finally,” Rhys said with a glance towards Nyx whose eyes flickered open.

“He’ll be happy see Aunt Nesta,” Feyre said in a sing-song voice to her now awake baby, turning him so he could view the entrance. “He loves Aunt Nesta.” She wasn’t above using her infant son as a tactic to avoid her eldest sister’s potential irritation at the intrusion into her home.

Rhys eyed up the shaking walls, “Yes, as does the House.”

Nesta entered first and Feyre breathed a sigh of relief that the floor remained solid underneath where she sat.

“Hello,” Nesta said, her voice soft and cooing. Her welcome wasn’t to her sister or brother-in-law but to the now beaming baby in Feyre’s lap whose legs and arms flailed in the air as he wriggled.

Nesta stepped further into the room, treading over the rugs, arms outstretched, “Come to Aunty Nesta.”

The vast windows let in the bright sunlight, sunlight which illuminated the state of the Illyrian leathers Nesta had clad herself in.

Feyre shrieked, twisting in the chair and blocked Nyx from Nesta’s grasp, pointing at her sister’s waist. “What is that?””

Nesta paused and frowned, looking down.

Aside from the interesting splotches of red across the leathers, the utility belt tightened around Nesta’s waist contained the usual items Feyre expected; knife, pouch, knife, another knife and then... another item she hadn’t.

A leather strap was wound in multiple knots around the thick band and tied to an uneven, lumpy dome the other end. The lumpy dome ended in a stump clotted with congealed blood.

“Oh,” Nesta said with a shrug, “I forgot.” She untied the leather strap and pulled the lump away. “Just another one for the collection.” With a graceful arm movement, Nesta threw what Feyre realised was a decapitated head onto the floor where it landed with a thud, a dribble of blood oozing fresh from the neck wound.

“Well, you can’t hold the baby until you’ve washed your hands. Thoroughly.”

Nesta frowned at her, an ice-cold glare fixed on her face. “Fine,” she snapped, as though Feyre’s request was unreasonable.

Cassian, unlike her sister, had taken some time to remove his blood encrusted leathers before greeting his guests, and he wandered in through the arch with a nod of his head towards Feyre and Rhys.

His hazel eyes noted the bloodied head by the door and he released a sigh.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“The House doesn’t mind.”

The shutters covering the windows in the other rooms started to clatter up and down.

“See?”

“Yes, but I mind and besides,” he gestured across to Feyre, “an infant is present.”

Nyx, now bouncing on Feyre’s lap, slapped his hands together as hard as he could in time with the House. He gazed at Nesta as though she’d sliced her way through necks especially for him.

“He doesn’t care,” Nesta said in a sing-song voice eerily similar to the tone Feyre herself used earlier. She beamed at her nephew, “He’s clapping with the House.”

Rhys’ face turned white, “The House is applauding you?”

“Oh yes,” Az said, arriving at last and pushing his way through where Cassian and Nesta stood to flop down onto the armchair next to Feyre. “Nesta always gets rapturous applause when she brings home a kill.”

Feyre glanced from Azriel, legs sloping over one armrest while his head flopped across the other, to Nesta and then onto Cassian who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“As much as I am ecstatic to see you all,” he said, “I’ll leave Az to deal with the debrief. I need to go lie down for a while.”

Cassian exited as swift as he entered, Az not bothering to open his now closed eyes. The concerned glances of the other room occupants followed Cassian’s retreating back.

Nesta turned back to Feyre, the ice-cold glare melted away. “Excuse me while I disappear.” Then, in a heartbeat, her expression was one of joy, “Bye-bye baby, I’ll see you in a little bit for snuggles.”

Nyx let out a small sob as Nesta left and Feyre quickly turned him towards her, readying him for a feed, knowing that the small sob would turn into a loud shriek.

“Well,” she said, “she obviously prefers Nyx to me.”

“Feyre, darling – you got spoken to,” Rhys said. “I think it’s safe to say Nesta didn’t acknowledge my existence. Which I’m fine with,” he added, nervously eyeing up the House’s stone walls, “whatever makes her happy.”

Nyx, thankfully, latched onto Feyre’s bared breast and for a moment no noise sounded in the room other than his greedy milk-hungry gulps.

A thought played over and over in her mind though; Nesta’s look of concern, Cassian’s uncharacteristic broodiness. “Are they ok?” she asked Az, at the same time Rhys enquired as to how the recent mission went.

Az’s eyes fluttered open and he gestured to the head on the floor. “As you can tell – we won.” Then, his voice gentler, he turned to Feyre, “They’re fine.”

“Is Cassian upset at the violence? At Nesta doing the um...,” and using her free hand Feyre motioned across her throat with a finger.

Az laughed, such a rare sound it reminded Feyre of the bells on Solstice evening. “Not at all. He likes that she does those things it’s just-”

He paused.

Rhys, satisfied that the mission went well and not caring about anyone’s romantic woes, settled back into the loveseat while Feyre leaned forward, careful to not disrupt her feeding son.

Azriel nodded towards the head, “Before the Anguis went the way of Hybern and the Kelpie, he managed to propose.”

“Not another one!”

“Don’t worry,” Azriel said, “I’m sure Nesta is reassuring Cassian of her love as we speak.”

As though cued up with expert timing, or, as Feyre suspected, the House lifting a self-imposed sound barrier to prove a point, the thumping drifted down to the grand room from several floors up.

“That was...fast.”

Suddenly Azriel appeared just as exhausted as Cassian had. “Nesta reassures Cassian of her love at least twice a night anyway, and when she’s done reassuring him, he feels the need to thank her back.”

Feyre winced, her face contorting into one of displeasure while Rhys didn’t try to hide his smirk. “This is what – the fourth proposal? Fifth?”

Az closed his eyes and dropped his head backwards once more. “Ninth. This isn’t the worst we’ve had.”

Nyx snuffled and Feyre moved him to her other breast. “Wasn’t the first in the Winter Court?”

They’d been in Winter for the naming ritual of Kallias and Viviane’s baby and once the ceremony was done, all guests mingled in the palace hall. The High Lord and Lady of Winter stood on the dais, draped in silver and grey, Viv beaming as she held her pink cheeked daughter.

The music, food and wine flowed freely but Feyre could barely hear the former over the laughter of the high fae and the chime of glasses as toast after toast was declared. The Inner Circle members had dispersed throughout the crowds earlier, all intent on seeking their delight in various forms.

Feyre had seen Nesta on the dance floor for the opening songs but she’d long since gone and Feyre wondered if Nesta and Cassian had snuck away to take advantage of the Winter palace’s numerous private bedrooms.

She had done her duty as High Lady of Night, walking around the hall, ice blue gown sashaying around her legs as revellers congratulated her on the arrival of her own child.

Feyre had smiled and thanked them but she tired easily after Nyx’s traumatic birth and it wasn’t long before she sought out the fur-decked chaise longue tucked in one of enclaves on the far wall.

As Feyre made her way towards it, movement from the corner on her right drew her attention.

Nesta was standing by another enclave, glass in hand, virulently shaking her head. Nesta’s golden-brown hair had been braided into a complex knot adorned with diamonds which caught the fae lights and casted shapes on the ceiling. It had been this that captured Feyre’s eye.

“No,” Nesta said, “I don’t think so.” She smoothed down a non-existent crease on her dress, a pale grey-blue that shimmered like mist over ice, ever changing.

The male she was speaking to was some high-ranking courtier from Winter who Feyre had been introduced to earlier that evening but whose name escaped her. He was tall and handsome enough, gazing at her sister with sapphire blue eyes, but Nesta’s demeanour suggested nothing other than sheer boredom.

Cassian emerged from the crowds, seemingly drawn to what was happening in the corner of the room like a moth towards a flame, his body screaming nothing but fury. Still, he interjected himself between Nesta and the Winter male with a decorum Feyre felt he should be proud of. His fists were clenched and his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth but there was no violence. Yet.

Feyre moved quickly to them.

Side by side there was no contest that Cassian was the larger, broader and less refined male. He wore scuffed Illyrian leathers and the most he’d done for the event was clean his hair and tie it back.

The courtier wore ivory silk brocade strewn with pearls and viewed Cassian up and down with a sneer.

“And who, exactly, are you?”

Cassian spat out his answer, “Her mate and husband and your executioner – you are?”

“Ah yes,” Rhys said. “The naming ball. Was it just the one dance Nesta performed before she had the males panting over her?”

“Still,” Feyre said, “that one was the easiest to smooth over. No one was killed. Or maimed.”

“I think the proposal with Chrysos was when Cassian was aware this was going to be a repeat issue,” Az said.

Chrysos stood before them, undulating between the visage of a male and of something else, something other – possibly human but not quite. His skin was translucent and his gold blood ran through his veins, clear to their eyes, like streaks in white marble.

He was horrifying and beautiful and Feyre struggled to tear her eyes away.

“I must marry you,” he said, directing his words to Nesta. Chrysos’ voice echoed around the cave chamber, strangely melodic, a harmony of angels singing in chorus, one voice on top of another. “I shall make you my Queen and take you into the darkness where we shall make the sweetest music and-”

Nesta’s shoulders sagged, energy sapped from her as she gave a frustrated sigh.

“What the fuck?!”

Feyre jumped at Cassian’s yell, the noise bouncing from the tops of the cave to the bottom, deep into the darkest part and back again.

“Seriously! For fucks sake, I am standing right here!”

Rhys chuckled. “That ended quick enough if I remember?”

“We were on a recruitment mission though, we wanted him on our side,” Az said, “not dead.”

“Cassian maintains he slipped.”

“From six feet away?”

“Yes.”

“With his sword aloft?”

“I didn’t think the proposal in Summer was too bad,” interrupted Feyre, now with Nyx resting against her shoulder so she could pat his back with soothing circles.

The party on Tarquin’s barge was held at the height of the season the Court was most famous for.

The weather was idyllic; sunshine beating down on Feyre’s skin, endless blue skies stretching ahead while a cool ocean breeze drifted from the teal waters teaming with coral. Dolphins pranced in the frothy waves around them, shimmering and shining, their scales a rosy pink.

“Look, Nyx, look!” Feyre held her cooing baby high, pointing the dolphins out to his curious violet eyes.

The barge moved at a comfortable pace and again, like all parties the High Lords arranged, the music, food and wine flowed. Guests streamed from the top desk to the lower one and lower still when they felt like taking to the private cabins, the heat in the air turning into heat in the blood.

The decks were vast enough to not see the same individuals constantly but small enough to see them often and Feyre had smiled every time she walked past a relaxed Cassian and Nesta.

On their first stroll about the deck, Nyx had been awake and grinning, Nesta peppering his small face with a flood of kisses that had him squealing and his limbs flailing with joy. Cassian had joked about knowing his place in the pecking order and Nesta smiled at him in turn.

Cassian’s hair was tied back into a loose bun, strands of black hair falling past his jaw. It was too hot for leathers and, with his white linen shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose the black tattoos on his arms, he was the most casual Feyre had ever seen him.

Nesta stunned in a dress of blue which started ice blue at her shoulders before blending into a shade so dark at the hem it was almost black. The front was a demure and delicately scalloped neckline but Nesta’s back was entirely bare, held up by invisible straps.

Multiple pairs of eyes glanced their way but Nesta’s hand never left Cassian’s and his free one travelled the length of her spine dipping beyond the fabric at her lower back.

You’re borderline indecent, Feyre told them with pretend outrage and continued to walk the deck.

The second time Feyre passed them, they had been talking to Tarquin and Feyre only caught a brief snippet of their conversation, trying to settle a now restless Nyx against her shoulder.

“One apology,” Tarquin had said, “that was my mother’s favourite building.”

On Feyre’s third pass, Nyx now in Rhys’ arms, Tarquin had gone. In his place stood a fae Feyre didn’t recognise.

“I had turned away for a couple of seconds,” Cassian said, his hands in fists, “and you thought this was your opportunity to sneak in here like a panting-”

“Cassian,” Nesta warned, “we don’t want another incident in this Court.”

“Well, there will be one if this prick doesn’t move out of here. We’ll see how he fares with my foot up his as-”

“Cassian!”

“She’s married and mated. Can’t you see the matching rings? Can’t you smell the mate bond?”

The high fae nodded his head, “Yes, but...”

“But? But what?! That’s it,” Cassian said, “we’re leaving this fucking party.”

Rhys and Az stared at Feyre as she burped Nyx, their mouths open.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t think it was too bad?” Rhys said, his voice incredulous.

Feyre shrugged, “No one died and no wars were started.”

“They’d only just removed the ban on Cassian to have to enforce it again.”

“I don’t think the second ban was fair though.”

“Feyre, darling. He destroyed the barge.”

“We spent hours fishing everyone out of the sea,” Az said. “Then we had to work out where Nesta’s unfortunate suitor had landed after Cassian threw him towards the cliff.”

“Wasn’t he clinging onto the side of the rockface?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t Cassian destroy another building in his haste to get away?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Feyre said, frowning. “So maybe it was bad.”

“I quite liked the proposal from Locuples,” Az said, “that was the best for all involved. No one died and we ended up with a pretty good trade agreement.”

“Oh, I remember that,” said Feyre, “I was here when Nesta and Cassian came back.”

Feyre and Az had been in the grand room, as they were now, sitting opposite each other in companiable silence. Steam from their tea cups swirled in the air and Feyre gazed out the windows at the white clouds over the city.

“What the-?”

Feyre’s head snapped round, surprised at the uncharacteristic shock in Az’s voice. He stared towards the door archways and Feyre followed his eyeline.

Cassian and Nesta had returned, surprisingly quietly, as she hadn’t heard them land on the roof. Or perhaps, looking at the display in front of her, they’d travelled by some other means.

Nesta sat on a throne on an open topped litter, carried by two lithe creatures who were more shadow and smoke than real and whose feet never touched the ground. Nesta herself, bedecked with jewels, a tiara and clutching a sceptre, wore an expression of confusion.

Cassian followed on foot, wings tersely tucked in, heaving a trunk filled with gold, jewellery, silks, furs and bottles which wafted exotic scents.

Cassian glanced at them from the corner of his eye, “Don’t ask.”

“I thought we expected this to be a hostile negotiation?”

“I said don’t ask.”

“We still receive gifts on a monthly basis,” Feyre said and slid to the floor to lay a barely awake Nyx on the soft furs - one of those aforementioned gifts. She traced a thumb on the arch of his foot and watched it curl, his lips smacking in contentment.

Feyre swore the floorboards underneath him adjusted to accommodate his shape.

“Don’t you receive monthly gifts from Helion as well?” Rhys asked. “Or did Cassian put a stop to that?”

“Cassian put a stop to that one,” Az said.

“Doesn’t Nesta still have the first gift though?”

Az groaned and placed his scarred hands over his eyes. “Yes, and I cannot express how much upkeep it takes.”

Feyre smiled, “Oh, I remember that one too.”

The shriek took Feyre by surprise and she leapt from her chair, readying herself for action. It was only seconds before she realised it wasn’t a shriek of pain but one of sheer, childlike joy.

Once again, her and Az were in the House and, once again, she hadn’t heard the arrival of the House’s other permanent occupants.

“In the name of the Mother,” Az breathed and, in what was a familiar pattern, Feyre turned to where he was looking. This time, instead of Az looking towards the doorway, he was staring outwards at the windows.

Nesta, clad in her leathers and with windswept hair was sat astride a glorious white winged horse, her black leather a stark contrast to the white of the creature she sat upon.

“Someone find Gwen and Emerie! They need to know about this; they need to come here!”

With another shriek of joy and a gentle nudge to the horse’s sides Nesta rose higher, the wings of the horse flapping with enthusiasm, happy to appease its new owner.

There was a sigh from behind them and Feyre and Az turned. Cassian leant against the doorframe, fingers rubbing his temples.

“Cass... isn’t that Helion’s last and most prized flying horse?”

“Please – do not ask.”

“That thing is a nightmare,” Az said, “it eats everything, likes very few fae and can somehow find its way into the House in the dead of night. Do you know how terrifying it is to wake to find a winged horse hovering over you demanding sugar cubes while stealing your blanket? I can’t live like this.”

Feyre shot him a sympathetic smile while Rhys laughed. In the brief silence which followed, Feyre could hear the rhythmic banging echoing its way through the house.

“Aren’t they done yet?”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“At least it will be over soon.”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“You think this is bad?” Az said, “You weren’t here after the proposal with the Peregryn.”

To Feyre, the Dawn Court was one of the most beautiful. Its shades of gold and red weren’t bright or ostentatious but were the softer golds found in the rising sun, the reds not vermillion or scarlet but something akin to a dusky rose.

Every town held a thousand clock-towers, every hand matching perfectly, the chimes on the hour synching in a glorious song, calling to the skies in praise of a new day, of promises to be made, of joy to come.

The peace of that particular morning had been broken by the shouts of males, all raised in the ecstatic spirit of competition. Nothing violent or aggressive but it spoke to Feyre of knuckles and bone crunching all the same.

She’d pushed her way to the front of a crowd, the fae recognising her and making room for her to pass. A fighting circle had broken out in a section of the town square, cheers raising into the air as one of the fighters scored a blow.

In the circle stood two males, both tall and broad, barefooted and bare-chested. One had wings similar to the Pegasus which Nesta now owned, white and gold-feathered, and the other had wings as black as night, the rising sun highlighting veins and patches of amber.

A female was eagerly watching them, a female Feyre shoved past fae to move next to.

“Nesta! Why is Cassian sparring with a Peregryn?”

Nesta didn’t tear her eyes from the males. “Some old nonsense about fighting for the right to take my hand.”

Cassian landed a punch to his opponent’s jaw, the crack reverberating through the air as the crowd cheered on.

Sweat trickled down Cassian’s own jaw and onto his neck. His muscles were strained, his abdomen contracting. As the fighters turned positions, his back faced Feyre, black tattoos against dark skin, his shoulder blades gleaming with oil.

Feyre glanced at Nesta who was dressed in a pale peach dress adorned with pearls, her hair up but with soft stands framing her face. She would have looked a wholesome picture of innocence if not for her darkening eyes.

“Shouldn’t you stop this?”

“Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

Nesta’s eyes flickered from the top of Cassian’s head down his back and then, as the fighter’s moved again, to his stomach where they lingered on the trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his trousers. She sighed.

“A few more minutes.”

Feyre blinked as if she could rid herself of the memory. “I can only imagine.”

“If I didn’t visit the river house for dinner I would have starved. The House had to perform a deep clean.”

The walls shook in what was akin to a shudder.

“The bard was wholesome enough,” Rhys said.

Az groaned, “And yet ridiculous.”

 In a concerted effort to apologise to the Courts on behalf of the behaviour of some Inner Circle members during previous gatherings, Feyre and Rhys had invited the High Lords and their significant others to Starfall.

The House remained still, either curious as to who all the guests were or silently sulking that there were guests at all.

The tang of a rich red wine was on Feyre’s tongue, not from anything she had drunk, but from a stolen kiss from Rhys, under the night sky, in a moment solely theirs before it became everyone else’s.

The night was filled with laughter and talking and Feyre slid into the embrace of her mate, content in the knowledge that Nyx slumbered underneath the watchful eye of the House’s nursery, a room which hadn’t existed before this very evening.

Her heart hurt, but in a good way, as though each chamber was bursting with a joy they couldn’t contain and her happiness spilled out into every corner of the rooftop.

Azriel was intently speaking with Nesta’s red-haired friend while Elain watched on from a distance, either not aware of, or ignoring, her own red-haired watcher.

Amren and Mor stood amongst another group, Mor’s golden hair cascading down her back like a waterfall and near the balcony was Cassian and Nesta, pressed side by side, hand in hand as they gazed upwards, Cassian pointing to a constellation.

Nesta glanced at him as he spoke, her face softening in a way Feyre never thought possible, a smile on her lips. When Cassian looked back at her, to check her understanding of what he was saying, he brought their intertwined hands up to his mouth, to kiss her fingertips.

Feyre smiled, all was well and all would continue to be well. That was until a voice, clear and resolute, spoke out into the crowd.

“My High Lords and Ladies and Paramor’s, I am a bard from the Spring Court – famed as the best in all the Courts!”

Chatter drifted into murmurs as heads turned expectedly to the fae now standing in the centre. Feyre noted his lute fixed upon his waistband but the bard made no attempt to reach for it.

“I have travelled across the land, coming to the Court of the High Lord and High Lady of Night with one purpose and one purpose only – to serenade with tales of fortune and love!”

A ripple of anticipation broke out amongst the crowd to hear such songs and Feyre turned to Rhys. “Did you arrange this?” but his face was twisted in confusion.

“I dedicate my melodies to one female, one who understands music as though her very bones were formed by the notes. My song to you, Lady Nesta and also my hand in marri-”

“FUCKS SAKE!”

Feyre let out a sigh. “I felt so sorry for the bard. He must have seen Nesta on one of her visits. To think, he spent all those weeks travelling on foot to arrive to the House and then Cassian threatens to dangle him from the roof.”

“Cassian did dangle him from the roof.”

“No one’s going to invite us to any more parties,” said Rhys with a sorrowful sigh.

“I think we can handle an overly amorous high fae or two,” Az said, “it’s the demons which worry me.”

“They’re no cause for concern,” Rhys said with a wave of his hand. “In fact, we have a valuable asset on our side. Drag Nesta in front of them and it tends to shut them up.”

Feyre frowned. “That is my sister you’re deciding to use as romantic bait. Besides, the issue we had with the Caligo demon was that it didn’t stop talking. There was such a mess.”

Screams filled Feyre’s ears as terrified Night Court citizens ran past her, almost a blur.

Tears streaked down terror-stricken faces as they grabbed the arms of their loved ones and scooped up children too small or young to so anything other than shiver and cry.

Cracks appeared in the ground beneath their feet, the cobbles of the street twisting and turning before jutting upwards like the jagged, sharpened edges of broken bone. The air was thick with acrid smoke which stung Feyre’s eyes causing them to stream with the tears she saw running down her people’s faces.

Rhys was to her right. Or that’s what she hoped. He had been standing but he’d gasped in pain and then she no longer saw him through the gaps in the cloud. When she managed to glimpse him, he was on his knees, thick red blood pouring down his face from a cut on his scalp.

Feyre choked back a sob and clambered over the rips in the earth to reach him.

Steel clashed with steel in the darkness, the shouts of Cassian and Azriel tearing through the blackness as they pressed forward. A shimmer of magic absorbed as much of the darkness away as it could and created a halo around the members of the Inner Circle.

Hands, strong and steady, circled Feyre’s waist and Nesta held her up, helped her over the torn earth.

“I am destroyer,” the thing hissed. “I am consumer, I am flesh ripper and soul tearer and I-”

It turned, watching them all, gloating in their misery and gorging itself fat on their pain. One of its bulbous eyes slid to where they stood, Feyre leaning into Nesta’s side. Her sister’s hair was dishevelled, her arms smeared with blood but Nesta’s eyes remained cold and hard upon the demon.

“And I – oh, oh, you are spectacular.”

A roar ripped through the darkness; a bellowing from powerful lungs as the words of the creature reached the ears of all present.

“Absolutely fucking not!”

Cassian advanced from the void, red siphons blazing as though he were shrouded in flame. “I am her mate; I am her husband and I suggest you put those sloping tongues back into your mouth or Mother help me...”

Feyre swallowed the rising bile. She tried not to think about the events of that night, though she didn’t know what was worse – that night or now, with the thumping above their heads gaining momentum.

“He got the job done,” Rhys said and then smirked, “and he’s doing the same now from the sounds of it.”

“Rhys!” Feyre admonished and placed her hand on Nyx’s stomach to calm herself. “Why do you think he puts up with it?” she asked Az.

“What choice does he have? Besides, he loves and trusts her. There’s no one for him but her and no one for her but him.”

“Disgusting,” Rhys said with slight mockery to his tone.

“No,” Feyre said, “what’s disgusting is the head in the corner.” She eyed up the lump that had once been somethings head; the glassy eyes, the bloodied stump. She wouldn’t relish touching the thing but she would happily remove herself out of earshot of Nesta and Cassian’s post proposal love affirmation. “Where do I take it?”

“The House created a trophy room three doors down,” Az said.

Anguis’ mouth hung open, razor sharp rotted teeth all lined up on display. Feyre felt a slither of pity. “I’ll take it there.”

“No, Feyre darling, I’ll do it.”

Feyre breathed a sigh of relief and nodded before turning to Az. “Shall we wait for them to be done? We need to discuss the next mission which is rather sensitive.”

Az shook his head, “No, you may as well go home. It was a proposal so they’re not stopping until – what day is it now, Thursday? – they’re not going to be fit for purpose until Monday.”

Rhys, still lounging, stretched out into the space Feyre previously occupied. “We can’t wait that long.”

“Do you want to volunteer to interrupt them?

“No.”

Feyre glanced between them both. “Cassian did look rather sad.”

Azriel laughed again, the sound echoing throughout the room, his head thrown back. “Don’t pity Cassian, he knows what he’s doing.”

“And Nesta falls for it?”

“No, she definitely doesn’t fall for it.”

“But isn’t she in their chambers um...reassuring him?”

“Yes.”

Feyre bit her lip, “So surely...”

“Oh Mother,” Az rubbed his hand across his face. “It’s their form of twisted foreplay. When Nesta received a proposal from – well, I can’t remember which one, I came home early and almost went blind. Have none of you questioned the indoor swing?”

Feyre’s voice was quiet when she spoke, scooping up her son into her arms with haste. “I thought they were creating an inside playground.”

“Ah,” Az said, his voice soft, “not quite.”

The thumping reached its crescendo and blessedly, stilled.

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Rhys said, “they’re done after all. Az, go retrieve them. We need to discuss the next mission.”

“Why me?”

“You live here.”

“You’re the High Lord.”

Feyre looked around her, Nyx clutched in her arms. “I think the floor is sloping us out towards the door.”

“I don’t think so Feyre, darling.”

“No really, the head - which you said you’d deal with by the way - is rolling away.”

Feyre wasn’t imagining what was happening, she’d passed under the entrance to the room, Rhys and Az’s chairs beginning to follow.

“This happens,” Az said with a calmness Feyre didn’t feel. “Usually when they don’t want anyone to overhear the next part of their ‘Nesta got proposed to again’ sex marathon.”

“Why? What could they now be planning that’s so much worse?”

“I don’t know,” Az replied, “the House always shuffles me out at this point. One time I was trying to prep my knives and almost stabbed myself in the eye.”

“Right,” said Rhys, “I think we can walk out of here without a sentient lump of stone forcing us to. Which,” he said with an eye to the steepness of the floor angle, “is completely within its’ right.”

Feyre nestled a snoring Nyx into one arm as Rhys helped her up. Az was already on his feet, out the door and into the hallway before he got flattened by an oversized, burgundy armchair.

He turned to them both.

“So, where’s the next mission to anyway? Where are you sending our glorious Lady Death and Lord of Bloodshed and can I sit it out?”

Feyre and Rhys exchanged glances. “I think we might need you in attendance,” Feyre said.

Az raised an eyebrow. “Well, I know King Lascivus is causing some problems with his tithe but as long as you weren’t planning on sending us to his palace, it will be fine. He’s famous for his side hobby of trying to find a muse to depict as the Mother in his artworks. Borderline obsessed.”

Feyre cleared her throat, “Sounds like he’s fervently religiously devout.”

“Hardly. The issue isn’t him trying to depict the Mother but that he’s spent centuries convincing everyone that she needs to be represented in her naked glory and I quote ‘with the petals of her flower fully opened.’”  

Rhys coughed and moved fast down the hallway towards the roof entrance his wings already forming.

“Rhys!” Feyre called out. “You know I can’t run when I’m holding the baby!”

Az’s voice was quiet. “Feyre?”

“You know we love you,” she said, not meeting his hazel eyes, “and you’re always welcome at the river house. For as long as you want, whether that’s weeks or months.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I swear on the Cauldron, if you need to you can stay for centuries.”

“Feyre?”

She turned and didn’t look back, picking up her own speed to follow Rhys, ignoring the quiver in Az’s tone.

“We love you Az,” she shouted over her shoulder, propping Nyx into a position ready for flight as the House opened its doors to hasten her exit. “Always remember that.”

TAGGING

@live-the-fangirl-life

@champanheandluxxury

@dontgetsalmonella

@purpleglitterypinecone

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen [chapt. 6]

[Donnie x reader]

sfw, chapter 5 here

Come on, save it, save it, Donnie chanted to himself later that night, at home and tucked away in his room trying to figure out how to neutralize the situation. He paced along his bed back and forth, phone in hand as he wracked his brain thinking about how he'd get her to let it go. He could tell her that she was...overtired? Go the stereotypical route and say it was just her eyes playing tricks on her? Try to play it off as human teenagers messing around on the roof?

She'd gone to bed already. He hated that he couldn't pursue the subject until morning, her morning, but by then, he'd be tired. When she woke, he slept. But he needed to get it resolved as quickly as possible, so he reckoned it was time to pull an all nighter. Luckily, that wasn't anything he wasn't used to.

He figured he'd get the preliminaries out of the way so he could get right to it when she eventually texted back.

"Good morning

I know you're not awake yet but I figured I'd get an early start today.

I want to know, what exactly did you see last night?"

He shut his phone off and set it down on the bed, fingers rubbing his temples. Depending on her answer, this would either be difficult, or near impossible.

The rest of his time was spent just waiting around for her to finally wake up, dodging all his brothers and trying to occupy himself with something. He was fiddling with the radio he kept on the floor next to his bed when his phone notified him of a message. Turning the volume up, some old-school rock played softly. He didn't always keep music on when he worked, which was what he was doing felt like, but something needed to fill the silence. It also made it feel more casual to have the radio on, for both himself and for whoever might stop by his room.

"Good morning to you too

That was...sudden??"

How nice it was to read those words coming from someone who wasn't his family. Not that they said it like that often anyway, but the small gesture hit differently.

"I'm just really curious about what you said you saw."

Curious? Not quite. More like dying to know, and not because he fancied himself some cryptid hunting.

"That's fair I guess

But don't laugh, ok?"

"I'd never, [y/n]"

"Well

Okay

They were big

But no like not the overweight kinf, not even just 'tall guy' kind of big

kind*

You know?"

Yeah, I aware. I'm 6'8" and have a giant shell on my back.

"They?"

He was hoping she'd only seen one of them. Maybe it would have been easier, but, of course, that wasn't the case.

"I think there were two

Idk it just looked really weird, it was dark but the silhouette from the light made them look bulky, I don't know what it was"

Lips pursed tight, he looked up from his phone, and all of a sudden that music in the background was suffocating. He quickly reached over and shut it off. He needed to be able to divert all of his attention to one thing. Except, even though he should have been spazzing over her spotting them (even if just for a split second), a concern crept up in the back of his mind that made him scoff at himself. The need to know was too great.

His eyes fell on his scaled, three-fingered hand as he typed.

"Did it scare you?"

Perhaps it wasn't what he should have been focusing on. But he was. He knew she hadn't seen much, but what if she quipped that it was frightening, or gross, or…?

"I don't know, Bo

I guess it was kind of freaky

Uh, do you actually believe me? That I saw something?"

"'Freaky?'" he repeated to himself in a whisper, brow ridge furrowed. What was I expecting?

He had to shake himself of whatever was going on in his head at the moment, because there were more pressing matters at hand. Like what he was going to answer her question with. Theoretically, he could go two routes; one, invalidate the experience and try to walk on the line of telling her that it was not real without making her feel crazy. And then probably get mad at him. Or two, go along with it, if he didn't have the heart to do that to her. The answer was already here; he let out a deep sigh. Two, it is.

Nothing could make him want to make her feel that way, even if it meant he'd have to put in a little extra effort in fixing his mistake.

"I wouldn't doubt your judgement, [y/n]."

"Thanks

That makes me feel a lot better

You're a really good guy, Bo :)"

Freezing, he sat and stared at the screen before slowly taking the phone away from his face, lips moving, but no sound coming out. He had no idea what to say; all he could focus on was the fact that the girl he undeniably liked thought he was a good guy. And that, presumably, it meant she might have liked him as well. Big on the "might", he realized as the logical part of his mind took over once again. Regardless, he licked his lips and got to preparing a worthy response. He didn't want to come off as flustered as he felt. Donnie was aware he was not particularly suave—he took solace in the fact that she couldn't see his face or hear his voice. He contemplated on acting a bit more "cool guy" than he actually was, but wanted her to like him for him, not a facade. Which was a major contradiction to all that he had done up to that point, but the least he could do was be the person he was on the inside!

"You there?"

"Sorry, I got distracted…

You really think so?"

"That I think you're a great guy?"

"Well...yes."

"Totally. 100%"

His heart was going, he was stammering to himself, and a new feeling enveloped him. He was no stranger to the different emotions; he'd gotten familiar with many of them. Because though he didn't always show it, he had a lot of feelings. These, he felt most viscerally. But he had to get back on track. If he could push last night's incident under the rug, all would be well. More well than it already was, considering.

"Thank you, [y/n]

To be honest, I've never had a friend like you

So, do you want to talk more about what you saw? I know I'm switching tracks quickly, it's just very….interesting."

It was a jarring and awkward subject change, he knew that, but he desperately wanted to get it out of the way. The sooner, the better.

"I suppose

You seem pretty interested in it"

Maybe she wasn't hanging onto the experience like he'd thought she would. There were so many tales of people seeing inexplicable things and becoming enraptured by the experience that he guessed he should only expect the worst, but it appeared that she was not so obsessed. Crisis averted?

"Not too much, I was just wondering

We can forget about it."

"Oh, I'm not going to forget about it, Bo"

There it is, he thought, not surprised.

After thirty minutes of attempting to throw her off without coming off as suspicious himself, he had to take a breather, reorganize his mind. Only to come back and find that she had to go take care of things, and that she'd talk to him later. He'd done as much fixing as he could; at that point, it was as good as it was going to get. The thought of being looked for by his unknowing friend loomed about in the coming weeks as they did their patrols, when they would pass by her residence, and the times that he snuck off to stop by himself. Sometimes accompanied by Mikey, but he tried to keep it as solitary as possible. Soon, watching her on her balcony from that roof became part of his routine. He vaguely thought sometimes that watching her like that could be considered creepy, but that ship had already sailed.

For the third time in the last month he was there yet again, on the same roof, watching the same balcony, watching the same girl. Sometimes they texted, sometimes they didn't. The times he wasn't talking to her as he sat there were the times he daringly crossed the threshold onto the fire escape. There were only a few instances of that. But did he still feel out of his mind doing so? Yes. The window only looked into part of the living room and kitchen, but he felt scandalous to do it. Most of his time there was spent only with his shell against the wall next to the window, just out of sight. He could always hear her faint but noticeable footsteps coming and could easily vault the railing and climb up or drop down. She couldn't get past his keen hearing unless she knew to tread lightly.

Mikey was with him once again, this time out to look for scrap rather than patrol. He'd been buddied up with his younger brother more often ever since their talk that night in Donnie's room. They only stopped by because they were already out and had a viable excuse.

"Does she know about us? Like, me, Leo, Raph..." rambled Mikey, curious, as he practiced one of his new moves with his skateboard. He kicked up onto the ledge of the roof and skidded before hopping off, tucking the board under his arm. "You guys have been together like, what, two months? And she doesn't even know your name."

Fiddling with the strap reaching around his shoulder, Donnie replied matter-of-factly to hide the embarrassment that was ailing him at the thought, "Okay, for starters, we're not 'together'. And secondly, she hasn't mentioned voice chatting in a while."

"And?" He got back on his board, zooming by Donnie.

"My name? It just hasn't come up," Donnie shrugged.

"Call her, then!" Mikey smiled, still preoccupied with his board and trying out his new tricks. Donnie gave a light scoff and shook his head. His brother passed behind him where he sat leaned against the water tower.

"I don't want to just call her out of nowhere, Mikey, she might be asleep."

He also didn't want his brother there when he did.

"You gotta not be so shy!...oh, look, in the window. Right there. See? She's up," he quipped with a small smirk. The curtain was drawn, but the light had turned on at some point, and they could see her silhouette moving past. Donnie looked over his shoulder to say something but felt a hand slip into his pocket on the other side, stealing his phone right off of him. He was fast, but Mikey was faster in jumping into his board and gliding all the way to the other side of the roof with the fussy turtle hot on his trail.

"Mikey, quit it!" Donnie barked, lunging toward him for the phone.

"You'll thank me later!"

The two wrestled for the phone, Mikey holding it just out of reach as he tried to navigate the screen without dropping it.

"Come on," grunted Donnie as the tussle led them near the edge, where Mikey held it precariously over the alley below. His glasses were jostled off his face when a stray hand bumped them, causing them to fall amongst their feet. Squinting, he partially knelt down and searched for the pair while still looking at his brother and his phone, trying to stretch his arm long enough to snatch it. "Really?" he groaned, "just give me the phone!"

Donnie slung out his staff and used the other end to whack his wrist from underneath just as he pulled away from the edge, losing his grip on the phone. Mikey tried to catch it but it bounced off his hand, going right over the side of the roof and plummeting down into the alley.

Mikey froze. Donnie finally found his glasses.

Laughing nervously, Mikey turned back to him, "Whoops…"

When he didn't immediately find the phone on the ground, Donnie knew what happened. He looked over the edge, and there it was, sitting on the pavement in the alleyway. The building wasn't incredibly tall, but enough to do some major damage. He'd have to switch for one of his spares if he didn't want to deal with a busted-up screen.

"I don't need your 'help', Mikey, so leave it alone next time," Donnie said and gave him a narrow-eyed look, huffing as he leaped down to retrieve it.

Mikey may have been insistent, but he knew then it was time to stop. All he wanted to do was help. For his shy, flakey brother to come out of his shell (no pun intended). Donnie, at that time, had the biggest shot out of all of them for something unique and good. He hadn't yet worked out the logistics of how to bridge the gap between the two, but it was a calling of his to help him along.

Donnie watched for people from behind a corner before creeping out to get the phone, which was face down on the concrete. No doubt cracked to all hell if not completely shattered, though it did have a case.

But as he got closer, he heard a voice. From the phone.

He picked up the phone timidly and shot a glance up at the roof, where Mikey was peeking over the edge in apprehension. Without a word, Donnie activated the taser in his staff, pointing it at his brother and zapping it briefly. He flinched and retreated out of sight.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Bo?" she asked again, tone riddled with confusion. "What was that?"

"Uh, yes—hol—hold on, please," stammered out donnie, flying around the corner and pressing flat against the wall as a group of laughing people passed by the alley. "Just one second," he said nervously. Above him, Mikey was rapidly motioning for him to get up there, eyes wide and body trying to stay low. Baffled, Donnie gestured back at him, mouthing at him to keep his pants on for one more minute while he made his way up.

"Hey, what's going on there?" she inquired, concerned.

A street cat abruptly skittered out from between his legs from the dumpster he stood next to, and he had to stifle a startled yelp. He hopped up onto the nearest fire escape, trying to control his breathing. "Hey, hello…[y/n]," he half-chuckled, distracted by working up the building one-armed as he kept as quiet as possible.

"What was all that? And who's 'Mikey'?"

There was suddenly a shout—Mikey's shout—and his stomach did a jump. He sputtered as fast as he could, "I'm sorry [y/n] but this really isn't a good time, and I mean it really isn't," he pulled himself up onto the roof, and there was Mikey, fending off men clad in black, "so I have to go, but—"

"Don, dude! I need help over here!" cried his brother, sliding out of the way as a sword was jabbed towards him. He countered with a harsh uppercut to the man's chin, sending him stumbling backwards. The blade fell to the concrete with a clank.

"'Don'? Bo, what the hell?! Who is with you? And—"

Donnie jumped into the battle, a mix of nine or ten armed men with swords other weapons, and Mikey trying to stave them off, swinging his chucks with nothing short of reckless abandon. But he still didn't hit himself with them.

Ending the call, he secured the phone in his pocket. He wailed the guy closest to him in the side of the head with the heavy staff, then kicked him in the chest. The man fell to the blow, and Mikey ducked underneath the length of Donnie's weapon just in time as the two came together. Stray bullets flew past them, some colliding with their shells as they spun around for protection.

"How was it?!" Mikey yelled over the clamor, breathless. Donnie sidestepped from the rapid hit he sent towards the human to his left.

"What are you talking about?!" Donnie loudly questioned, flummoxed of what could have been going on in his brain during a fight. "We're kind of in the middle of something here!"

"Your phone call!"

"Yeah, the hell's the talkin' about, Don?" a gruff voice cut through the jumble.

Both of the boys whirled around to see their older brothers there, weapons drawn.

"Oh, right. As soon as I saw those bad guys coming, I let them know," said Mikey casually to Donnie, throwing his fist into the face of the man coming up behind him. "You know, standard biz."

With the rest of the team there, the fight was over twice as fast. Some groaning in pain and some unconscious bodies littering the area, along with their weapons. Leo finished the last one and sheathed his swords, eyes on their tallest brother while Raph kept watch around them. Donnie swallowed as Leo approached him.

"Don, you said you were going out for scrap metal," Leo stated.

In the background, Mikey grabbed his skateboard and was going to try to kickflip over one of the knocked out guys, but Raph yanked the board from him, growling. He checked all of the men to make sure they were down and would stay down.

"We were...just on our way back?" Donnie answered. Nearby, there was a small pile of scrap he'd collected, though definitely not enough to justify being out that long.

"So you stopped at your friend's place?" Leo deadpanned, crossing his arms. "Didn't you think that this could get her in trouble, too? Her apartment's right there, dude!"

Mikey budded in and corrected him, "Ah, we stopped by [y/n]'s. And nah! It's all good."

Donnie's face twitched. "Of course I thought about it! That's why I've only come here three times since, and only thirty minute intervals!" he bit back, throwing his hands up. The rest of his brothers all looked at him and his specificity. "I'm not naive, Leo."

The leader pushed past the both of them, signalling that it was time to leave, and they followed. Not before Donnie got what little metal he had collected and put away his staff, tucking the stuff under his arm. Raph joined alongside Donnie as they ran. "What's with all the secret' stuff, Don? First, ya hide it to begin with, then, ya make out like you were done, and now you get jumped by Foot guys by her place when you shoulda been gettin' scrap!" he said. "How were we supposed to cover for ya if you're lyin' even after we let you off?"

"Technically, I did get some!" Donnie remarked. He held up a piece of the scrap for him to see, and Raph snorted. "But..."

Well, his question would be a little harder to answer.

Next block was the nearest manhole, where each turtle swiftly jumped in, knowing by heart (and years of wandering) most of the sewers and the way back home. In some tunnels was Mikey's telltale graffiti, but it was scattered throughout the place enough to not be a giant arrow to their hideout. In the last portion of the run was the tunnel they always slid down, and once they were actually home, Donnie knew what was coming. Master Splinter was already waiting for them by the time they arrived.

"Uh-oh," Mikey said upon seeing him, sinking behind his brothers. Raph pushed him back up front.

Dropping the scrap in his arms, Donnie squeaked, "That's not good." He quietly cursed how high pitched his voice became when he was nervous.

"Yeah…" Leo cleared his throat, looking down at his hands clasped in front of him. The situation had an awkward tension for everyone in it, save for Raph, who was immune to it by then and Splinter himself. "We took care of the soldiers," he added more seriously. "Got out of there before too much attention was drawn.

"The police may be able to handle them from here, but it will not make a dent in the Shredder's forces," explained Splinter, grave as he paced along the line of brothers. "He owns the city. Until I say so, there will be no venturing to the surface. You are all lucky to be unharmed."

"That ain't it," Raph piped up. "But they'll be bringin' the big guns, next time."

"Oh, I am well aware."

"Um...of which thing?" the nervous turtle questioned, exchanging glances to Raph and then Mikey.

Splinter raised his brows knowingly, and that was all it took for Donnie. The floodgates of his signature anxious chatter opened. He grabbed the edge of Mikey's shell and pulled him over into the spotlight with him, "I met someone over an online game and we started texting after a few weeks, and—and Leo found out and I said I would stop, but we never told you," he gestured toward their brother in blue, who refused to make eye contact, "so I told her that it was through and then Mikey somehow convinced me to go back on it," he sucked in a breath, and Mikey grinned uncomfortably, "and then we started talking again and I don't know why, but I went back there to her apartment building and it was just…stupid."

There was a cumbrous pause. Donnie was stiff as a board, Mikey couldn't look at any one thing too long, Leo stood in his polite but awkward stance, and Raph started to whistle.

As poised as ever, Splinter spoke. "I know."

All four pairs of eyes shot to their father.

"What?"

"Uh..."

"Huh?"

"Wait."

They expressed their collective confusion at the same time, and Splinter chuckled. Donnie wanted nothing more than to be able to retreat into his shell, but that was physically impossible. "Nothing gets past me, especially not you and your nervous habits, Donatello. You are scratching that spot on your neck again, son."

Flinching, Donnie pulled his hand away. He'd be damned; Splinter was right.

But unbeknownst to them, there had been spectator of their fight on the roof that night.

————————————————————————————————

shh do not think too deeply about this my children

a/n: haha plot device go brrrr

i need to finish this cursed fanfiction

[because-of-a-friend]

Boyfriend!Minghao Fluff

Thanks for the request @tinykpoper​ !!! I really hope you like it! Sorry it took me longer than I expected, I had a good bit of it written but then my computer lost all of my progress :( Remember everyone this is a series I only write by request so if I’m missing someone you want, go ahead and request them!

MASTERLIST

Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino

Hao is such a chaotic force romantically lol

He acts very very very confident

But he is not 

He’ll talk a huge game to the other boys

“I’m so smooth and charming, I could date anyone I want!”

“Then why aren’t you dating anyone?”

“I- ... shut up, DK”

But he goes on talking himself up anyways lol

Finally one day DK decides to put Hao to the test

Hao mentions something about how suave he is

And DK is like “Ok, go ask them for their number then”

He gestures to you, talking with a friend a few feet away on the sidewalk

Minghao is like “I did not hear that”

But DK keeps egging him on

So finally, Minghao walks up to you

It takes you a moment to even realize that he’s there

He’s so quiet 

“Um, hello, my name is Minghao”

He scratches the back of his head

“Hi Minghao! I’m [Y/N]”

He’s taken aback by your bright smile and positive attitude 

His heart skips a beat

“I, um... I was wondering if I might be able to get your number?”

You contemplate for a second about giving a random boy your number

But he’s cute and sweet and you’re not getting any bad feelings so you think why not

You put your number in his phone 

“You better text me, Minghao”

His whole face is tomato red as he nods

DK is absolutely giddy when Minghao turns back to him

He opens his mouth but Minghao drags him away as quickly as possible

For the rest of the day, Minghao stares at your number wondering what to text you

He writes messages and then erases them over and over and over and over

He gets so in his head about it that eventually he just quits the idea of texting you

“Oh well, I’ll never see them again, it doesn’t really matter” 

But he does see you again

He walks into a coffee shop late at night

He’s just looking around and studying the menu

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here”

He feels shock at the words

His mind starts racing to try and remember if there’s anyone he’s offended 

He turns and it’s you!!!

You’re working there as a barista

Hao startles

“Oh...um”

“Is that what you do? Just ask people for their numbers and then never talk to them again? What’s even the point of that?”

He scratches the back of his head

“Well it’s just that...”

He looks back up at you

You’re smiling

Oh... you were messing with him

He smiles back a little

“I just didn’t know what to say”

“Well” you look over at the clock on the wall “You better figure out some things to say within twenty minutes”

“What? Why?”

“That’s when my shift ends! We can go get food, I’m hungry”

Minghao is speechless 

“I- um...”

“And you can treat to make up for not texting”

Minghao sits in the corner of the cafe, waiting for your shift to end

His heart is pounding the whole time

He looks up every once in awhile to watch you work 

You were so bright and kind to every customer

And you’re practically glowing in the golden lights of the cafe

When your shift is up you practically skip up to his table

“C’mon Mister Minghao, time for you to get me some dinner”

Minghao scrambles out of his chair and follows you out the door

Once you’re outside, you grab Hao’s hand and drag him towards the restaurant you have in mind

Hao is completely infatuated with you

How you’re smiling brightly under the street lights

You tell him excitedly about the restaurant you’re going to and how it’s one of your favorites

He just nods happily

Once you’re both finally settled in the restaurant, Minghao finally speaks up

It’s mostly to ask you questions about you

He finds out that you’re a university student, and what your major is

You tell him all about your family and friends and goals and dreams

Then you turn the conversation back to him

He shyly tells you about Seventeen and what that’s like

He beams as he talks about the boys and you find it absolutely adorable

“Can I see you dance sometime?”

He freezes 

“Would you even want to?”

“Of course I would, Hao! You talk about it so passionately, I want to see you in action!”

“I mean, I was gonna spend some extra time in the practice room this weekend...”

“Cool, it’ll be our second date then!”

Minghao is absolutely glowing when he gets home

“I’m guessing the coffee shop was good?” Jeonghan asks as he and Coups stare at his dazed face

“Huh? Oh yeah... it was fine”

For the rest of the week, Hao practices dances he could show you

When the day finally comes, he’s so nervous

He keeps watching himself in the mirror, worried that he looks ridiculous

When you finally come, he’s already pretty worn out

You sit with your back to the mirrors as you watch one of the dances he’s been working on

In the midst of his thoughts about doing well enough to impress you

He gets a passing thought that the image of you sitting in front of the wall of mirrors watching him dance is one that he could get used to

Once the song is done, you jump up excitedly

“Minghao that was amazing!!! You have to teach me something!!!”

He grins as you grip his arms and jump up and down

“Um ok, have you ever danced before?”

“Not once!”

He laughs at how brightly you say it

“Ok, then we’ll try something basic first”

The two of you spend the rest of the day dancing around, laughing when you mess up

You’re both exhausted by the time you actually make your way through a simple dance

You sit on the floor of the dance practice and drink water

“So, Mister Minghao... Any ideas for our third date?”

Romantically, you hit him like a hurricane

Every day is a new adventure with you

He thought he was outgoing

But you’re honestly down to do anything at any time

It changes his life honestly

Every moment is new and exciting

And while he’s with you, it’s never scary, just fun

He tries so many new things he never would have even considered just because of you

Once he gains confidence in your relationship, he comes up with just as many ideas for dates as you

And he takes more of the lead sometimes

His favorite feeling is the two of you holding hands as you rush off towards your next adventure

“Honestly Hao, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this confident and happy before”

“It’s cuz I’m in love Gyu”

Speaking of the other boys

Wow do they adore you

Just like Hao, they’re all taken aback by your confidence

Even Seungkwan and Hoshi

But they really think you’re awesome 

And it’s not long before you and Hao start inviting them on some of your adventures 

They all have so much fun

They love it when you attend their concerts because you cheer so loud

They have an inside joke that they can always hear you no matter how loud the other attendees get

And they know you’re really good for Hao

Bc not only are you taking him out of his comfort zone

You always take him seriously

You listen closely to all of his problems and concerns

You never make fun of him, not even a little 

You always proudly show off his art and praise him for it

You two like to go to couples art classes 

There was that one time when you came home from a rough day

And you just kind of leaned across from him on the counter and rant 

You admit that you’re struggling with school and the idea that you’re enough to accomplish what you want to

He silently takes out his paint and every time you complain about yourself, he writes one of the things he loves about you with paint on your skin

Then he stops waiting for you to say doubtful things and just continues writing kind thing after kind thing across your skin

When he runs out of space, he pushes up your shirt and continues to write

Then as he’s simply painting pretty designs up your stomach, he climbs on top of you and pushes you back to kiss you slowly and deeply and sweetly

Let’s just say he makes it very hard for you to doubt yourself

And you do the same for him

You honestly don’t even give him the chance to start doubting himself

You’re always supporting him in everything he does and praising his artistic creations

He loves talking to you after concerts 

Because you always have something new to say and you’re always overly excited about their performance and you explain your best parts with giant gestures and loud words

And he just sits there giggling at you

If you mention something about one of the other boys

He’ll get pouty until you talk about him again

And then you have to pet his head while you tell him how proud of him you are

But then you also push him back and tell him he’s so dramatic

But you two just have a really pure love for each other

You’re each other’s #1 supporters

And your relationship is all about finding adventure and doing it together

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Hurting Each Other - Part 1 - Loki x Reader

"So, any plans for the long weekend coming up?" Your coworker, Frances, asked as you unpacked boxes in the medbay storeroom.

"Oh I got big plans! I plan on getting real cozy with two fellas very near and dear to my heart. And my stomach," You joked. "Ben and Jerry."

"Oh come on, Y/N!" She groaned. "Don't tell me you still haven't worked up the courage to talk to one of them!"

"Frances!" You screeched. "You know I was assigned to this department because healing is the only ability of mine I have full control over and am confident in. You think things would go well if I tried to talk to one of the real heros?" You shook your head sadly and picked up some more bandages to put away. "I'd probably end up blubbering like an idiot and then knocking Captain America in the head with his own shield or something!"

"Now don't lie to me, I know that blond and buff isn't your type. I'd say tall, dark and mischievous, hm?"

"Frances, please stop. I already have half a mind to send half of these syringes flying straight at you."

"Please, I know you wouldn't. Is it really so hard to admit it to your best friend?"

"Fine," You relented. "I have a major crush on-"

"Help!" Someone yelled, bursting through the medbay doors. "Get help! Please!"

"Thor? What's he doing here?" Frances mumbled as you both rushed out of the storeroom.

"Brother, could you bear to be slightly less dramatic?" Loki groaned. He was clutching his side where his cape had been tightly wrapped.

"Thor, put him on the bed," You ordered. Thor nodded and quickly lifted his brother and plopped him down. Loki yelled loudly in what you assumed to be Old Norse and, judging by the look on Thor's face, it wasn't very nice. "Softly," You grumbled. You touched Loki's cape and teleported it off him. You gasped when you saw the deep gash in his side. "What happened?" You asked quickly.

"Well we were fighting them you see," Thor started. "Loki was fighting quite valiantly!"

"A little faster if you please!" Loki hissed.

"Yes of course! There was this one creature. At least 12 feet tall! Long fangs and glowing eyes-"

"Poisoned sword!" Loki yelled. "By father's beard, brother! Have you never learned how to tell a short story?"

"Alright," You said, biting back a chuckle. "Thor, would you mind waiting over there?" You said pointing to a chair a few yards away. You didn't want to ask him to leave but you did need him out of your way. He nodded and sat down. "Frances, some bandages and get me a syringe of antidote 289A." Loki looked at you oddly as you examined the wound in his side. "Actually, make that 289B, Frances."

"How do you know all this?" He asked you.

"Oh, I memorized all the medications for these types of injuries a long time ago. Too many accidental cuts," You admitted.

"Have you always been a nurse?" He asked. You stared at him for a moment, surprised he was actually carrying on a conversation with you.

"Uh, no. I-"

"Here it is," Frances interrupted, handing you what you needed.

"So what's your favorite food?"

"Why ask me that?"

"Oh, just wondering," You replied, discreetly getting the needle ready.

"That's quite an odd thing to ask at a time like-ow!" He exclaimed.

"Gotcha," You smiled. You finished healing the wound and put some bandages on it for good measure while he watched with a smile.

"Well, I must say I'm impressed. To trick the Trickster is no small task. I've seen you around but now you are even more intriguing. May I ask your name, darling?"

"Y/N," You replied, blushing brightly.

"How lovely," He replied. "Perhaps I can take you out for dinner tomorrow as thanks for your assistance today?"

"Uh, I-"

"Y/N!" Frances called out nervously. "I hate to interrupt but, can I get down please?" You looked up quickly and saw that you'd accidentally let your telekinesis go haywire again. Both Frances and Thor were floating midair as well as a handful of other objects around the room.

"Oh no!" You cried, everything instantly falling back to the floor. You were so embarrassed that you teleported yourself away to your room without another word.

"What happened?" Loki asked, back in medbay. Frances shook her head and walked over to him.

"I think it's best you talk to her yourself, ok? She gets nervous in certain situations and that happens. She'll probably get nervous again but anything you should know she needs to tell you herself." Loki nodded and sat up.

"Well then, if you'll excuse me," He said. "I think I know what I have to do."

~ About 3 weeks later ~

"And that is how we started dating. Loki did indeed come to my room to speak with me," You explained, smiling at your boyfriend brightly. "I didn't want to let him in at first, of course. I was afraid I would accidentally launch a book or something at his head."

"A hairdryer," He said, under his breath.

"What was that?" Bucky asked.

"She did get nervous," Loki said with a smirk. "And it was a hairdryer." Most everyone laughed and congratulated the two of you.

"Well, I for one am happy for you both actually," Tony said. "So, as a celebration of your new relationship and the rest of the team's safe return from their extended mission today, I ordered pizza. Now let's eat!"

Everyone got up and headed straight for the pizza boxes on the table. "Loki, can I talk to you for a second?" Hawkeye said, walking up to you both.

"Of course," Loki replied. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and followed the archer out to the balcony. You grabbed a drink for yourself and started to make your way to the pizza.

"Y/N, have I told you lately how proud I am of you?" Frances said, suddenly popping up behind you.

"Give a girl some warning!" You exclaimed, nearly dropping your cup.

"Seriously! I'm really proud of you for stepping out a bit!" She said giving you a big hug. "Although it's been pretty lonely in medbay lately!" You rolled your eyes and laughed.

"C'mon, Fran! I know you've got your eye on the one guy down there so you can't be that lonely. I think he likes you too, you know." Your best friend blushed and shook her head.

"So, changing the subject to more relevant matters," She said, wriggling her eyebrows. "How's training been going?"

"Good actually," You sighed. "I'm still kinda nervous but I'm getting better. I've worked out basically all the problems I've had with my teleportation and I've almost got a handle on near-field telekinesis. Long-range is still a struggle but I have to master the rest first. Loki's a great teacher. He doesn't get angry when I cry over not being able to do something or when I accidentally throw him against the wall."

"You've done that?" Frances gasped, almost choking on the pizza. You nodded, quite embarrassed. "Oh my goodness, that is amazing."

"Come again?"

"He must really love you! I'd have thrown you off the tower already."

"Nah, you wouldn't do that," You said.

"Eh, you're right. But I still say he loves you." You both laughed and continued eating. "What's taking him so long? He still out on the balcony with Bird Boy?"

"Probably. And don't let Hawkeye hear you say that! He'll kill you!"

"He's deaf anyway," She replied shrugging. Shaking your head you looked back to the glass doors trying to see what the two were up to.

"Look, Loki," Hawkeye said, closing the sliding glass door behind him. "I wanted to talk to you to make sure you knew what you were getting into."

"If this is about her past, she already told me, Barton," Loki replied cooley.

"I was part of the team that found her in Hydra's facility. If you'd have seen it I think even your stomach would have turned. Hydra had just finished their little experiment on her. They were about to start training, that's why she's not experienced with her powers yet. But the living conditions were revolting. She and the others we found were nothing but skin and bones. She was using her new abilities already though, trying to help the others. She actually saved a couple kids."

"She never mentioned there were others," Loki commented. Clint nodded sadly.

"Yeah, none of us talk about these missions a lot. Hydra was cruel. Trying to turn children practically into machines. She was the oldest there actually. What I'm trying to say is-"

"Look, I'm not going to treat her like some dangerous weapon. She's actually afraid of using her powers for fear of doing harm. That's why I'm training her. So yes, I know what I'm getting into." Loki turned on his heel and went to walk back in.

"That's not what I meant, witch," Clint snapped. Loki whipped back around and glared at him.

"Then explain yourself, Barton," Loki hissed. "And quickly, may I suggest."

"She's a delicate girl. She's not some toy for you to play with. She's fragile. After what she's been through, she can't afford to be hurt by some creature as you."

"What are you trying to tell me, Pigeon?"

"What I'm saying is you shouldn't have started anything with her but since you did you'd better watch it. If you make even one false move I will not hesitate to-" Clint looked up and saw someone coming to the balcony. He quickly put on a better face and shot one last glare at Loki. "You get the idea, now remember it."

Inside, you had had enough. Those two had been out there for forever. And, if you were being honest with yourself, it didn't look so good. "How's it going, boys?" You asked, walking out onto the balcony.

"Just fine, Y/N," Clint replied with a forced smile. "I'm going to head in and get some pizza." He brushed past you and hurried in. Loki seemed distressed about something and wouldn't make eye contact.

"Loki? What's wrong? Did Clint go off on something?" He tensed slightly but shook his head. Pulling you close to his side, he sighed softly.

"No, dear, I'm fine. Let's go enjoy the celebration, hm?" You nodded and he kissed your forehead, taking your hand and leading you inside.

~ One Month Later ~

"Ok, Y/N, I want to try something new with you today," Loki said, before you started training. "I'm going to throw some items at you and I want you to stop them and throw them away from you. You've learned well to react with your telekinesis but this will start training you for missions when you start going."

"Alright," you said. "Let's do this!" He started off easy enough, throwing tennis balls at you. But after about 10 minutes, he asked if you were ready for something harder. "Yeah!" You exclaimed. He immediately switched to throwing daggers. You gulped but kept at it. The knives were clanging loudly on the floor as you threw them aside.

"You're doing marvelously, darling," Loki grinned. You smiled and tried to hide the fact that you were getting tired. In a matter of minutes, however, it all fell apart. You missed a knife and it sliced your arm. You cried out loudly and grabbed at it, trying to heal it as fast as you could. Loki immediately rushed to your side, helping you sit on the nearest bench. "Y/N! Are you ok?" You nodded but he didn't see, he was looking down at the dagger he still held in his one hand. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I-I shouldn't have-" he stopped mid-sentence, voice shaking and hands trembling. "I hurt you. I could have-" he stopped again. He couldn't even look at you now and it worried you greatly. "He was right. I shouldn't-"

"Loki?"

"Is your arm healed now?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yes, it wasn't that bad. It healed up quickly. See?" He nodded sharply, back towards you, refusing to turn his head.

"I should go now. I'm sorry I can't finish today's session."

"Loki, wait!" You protested. But before you could stop him, he was already out the door and gone.

"What the heck just happened," You asked yourself. Shaking your head you decided you clean up the training room and try to get him to talk to you in a few hours.

PART 2

[the-record]

The City of Romance

Summary: On Spencer’s mandatory leave, he plans a trip to Paris, France where he meets an unforgettable face.

A/N: I got this idea during my language class. Please excuse my terrible French, I am still learning. This might be 2 parts? Maybe 3? I’ll figure it out. Anyways if you have any ideas for this or other requests let me know! 

Italics: Translation French to English.

This is more of an introduction <3

Part 2, Part 3

Check out my masterlist here!

For as long as you remembered, you had stayed with your mom in France during summers and worked at her café. Specifically her café in Paris. It was a dream. She made lots of business and your family was already pretty well off. You met lots of people working this job, however one seemed to stick out to you.

“Bienvenue! Que puis-ie vous offrir aujourd’hui?”  “Welcome! What can I offer you today?”

“Sorry, I don’t speak French.” You smiled at the tall man in front of you. He was handsome and seemed kind but nervous.

“No worries. Welcome, what can I get you today?” He seemed relived at the fact you spoke English. You would’ve too. 

“Can I get a coffee, 2 boxes of macarons, and 3 chocolate croissants?” You smiled and typed in the order on the computer on the counter.

“Of course. Will that be all?” He smiled and nodded. “Great. Your total is 24.50.” He handed you the foreign currency and you started to make his coffee and box his treats. “Here you are. Have a great day...”

“Spencer. You too,” He looked at your name tag, “Y/N. I should be on my way, I have a flight. Bye!” You smiled and waved. 

The rest of the day you couldn’t get that boy out of your head. You were a little disappointed that he would have already left France but the thought of visiting your uncle made it better. You stayed with your mom in the summer and your dad the rest of the year. After he passed, your uncle had promised to take care of you while you were in America. You were a grown adult but that didn’t stop him. Even 3 weeks later, as you boarded the flight, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer. What did he need 3 chocolate croissants for? You need the delectable treats you brought for your uncle. He was going to meet you at his work and asked you to bring something for him. You couldn’t bring something just for him though, so you brought something for all of his team. You had never met his team but that didn’t stop you. They were his family, so they would be yours too. 

He met you downstairs on the ground floor after you got through security.

“Bella!” You smiled and basically ran to hug him.

“Uncle David!” He squeezed you tight. 

“How was Paris? And your flight?” You giggled a little.

“It was beautiful as always. You have to come visit me and mom some time. My flight was weird. Not in a bad way, I just met someone I guess and, never mind. How are you?”

“I’m good. I think coming out of retirement was definitely a good idea.” You both talked all the way up and all the way to his office. 

“Oh, I totally forgot. I brought you guys some stuff from the café. Mom started working with a local bakery and their macarons are just perfect. And don’t even get me started on the croissants.” You pulled out the boxes from your bag and placed them on his desk.

“I know just the person who would love some of these. Come on, I will introduce you to her first.” You smiled and followed him to a dark room with a wall covered with monitors. 

“Wow.” In such a dark space sat a bright colored blonde. Her outfit had lots of fun colors and her hair was curled. Her makeup and earrings were fun and exciting. Everything about her radiated good energy.

“Rossi what’s- And who is this beauty next to you? Hoping she’s not wife number 4.” You laughed.

“This is my niece Y/N. Y/N this is Penelope Garcia our technical analyst.” You held out your hand.

“It’s great to meet you Penelope. I heard you like pastries?” You held out a box and her face lit up.

“I love them! Ok wow, these look amazing, where are they from?” Her smile was huge as she looked at the croissants.

“Actually they’re from Paris.” Her jaw dropped. “My mom owns a café and bakery in Paris France. I’m just here during the year for school.” She is still stunned.

“Well wow. I don’t know what else to say. Wait yes I do. Thank for these!” You smiled.

“Of course. If you ever need some just tell David and they will be sent to your front door.” She held her arms out for a hug which you gave her.

“Alright, well I am going to take Y/N to meet the rest of the team. Bye Garcia!” She waved as you two walked out.

“I like her. She’s very fun. Not boring like you.” You joked. You saw a group of people standing over by a counter and that’s when you saw him. The man from the café. “Long time no see.” He was a little confused when he heard you, but when he saw you he understood.

“Oh hey Y/N. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m just visiting my uncle. So this is where you were rushing off to then?”

“Yeah.” You saw a small smile creep on his face. It wasn’t a lot but you noticed it.

“Woah let’s slow down here pretty boy. Rossi, who is this?” You stared over at the man next to him. He was tall with a strong build and holding a cup of coffee.

“This is my niece Y/N. Y/N this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and I guess you already know Spencer.” You nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” They all stared at you both positively bewildered. “Oh, uh he came by the café I work at. He got a bunch of macarons.” 

“Wait, you work where those came from?” The lady who was apparently known as Emily.

“Yeah, my mom owns it and I work there during the summer. Speaking of.” You pulled out a smaller box filled with cookies and macarons. “These are for you guys.

“Thank you gorgeous. I guess we may have to thank Spencer then for introducing us to these.” You giggled softly.

“I guess you will.” Your phone rang and you noticed the caller ID to be your mom. “Sorry. I have to answer this real quick.” You walked a few feet away before answering. “Salut maman!” “Hey mom!”

“Salut bebe! Avez-vous atterri?” “Hi baby! Have you landed?”

“Quais. Je parle en fait aux collegues de David. Puis-ie vous appeler un peu?” “Yeah. I’m actually talking to David’s colleagues. Can I call you in a bit?”

“Bien sûr. Je t'aime.” “Of course. I love you.”

“Je t'aime aussi. Au revoir.“ “I love you too. Bye.” You hung up the phone and headed back over to them.

“Well genius what did she say?” You laughed as you walked back.

“He wouldn’t know.” They all gave you an odd and ashamed look for asking him. 

“She’s right. I don’t know French.” 

“Spencer Reid. You have an eidetic memory and went to a new country and didn’t learn French?”

“Well I learned a little but I didn’t really need to learn any. A lot of the natives knew English.” You nodded.

“He’s right. And it was my mom, she was asking if I landed.” Suddenly another blonde woman popped over. JJ. You had met her before by accident. Last time you came to visit you had a late flight in and so when you came by David’s house he was having a dinner party but everyone had left except her. She wanted to get to know you and you got coffee. “JJ!” 

“Oh my goodness Y/N! What’re you doing here?” She pulled you into a quick hug.

“I’m staying with David now for school because of what happened.” She gave a sympathetic smile.

Your father had passed away from a house fire. He was a bit older and already had health issues so the smoke inhalation was too much and he sadly passed.

“That’s great. How’s school been going?”

“Pretty well. I take some extra courses during the summer so I am looking for a job currently because I have everything I need done.”

“What career are you going into?” Derek questioned.

“Teaching. Specifically elementary because I can’t stand teenagers. They do not hold back, and as great as some of them are, I want my kids to be able and come see there first or kindergarten teacher years from now. I think I may have found a school around here but they haven’t gotten back to me yet.” They all nodded. “Well I was going to get some coffee if anyone wants to come along.”

“Reid why don’t you go?” Derek was patting him on the break to try and convince him to.

“Uh sure. If that’s okay with you of course.” You smiled.

“Of course. Let’s go I guess.” You walked with Spencer out to your uncles car that he so kindly lent you for the time being. He kept your car at his mansion so you wouldn’t have to worry about it. “Where should we go? I don’t normally come down here with David so I don’t really know a ton.” You asked as you got into the drivers side.

“There’s a little coffee shop not to far from here.” He gave you the directions as you drove. When you got there you ordered a coffee and a sandwich. Truth be told you were starved.

“So what degrees do you have?” He sipped his coffee before answering.

“I have a PhD in math, physics, and engineering as well as 3 BAs.” You jaw was 6 feet under. You assumed he was smart but damn.

“Wow. That’s... Impressive.” You laughed softly.

“Yeah. What about you? You said you wanted to be a teacher.”

“I have a bachelors in elementary education and one in special education. That is more so I can be more inclusive in the classroom. Honestly it’s pretty smart to get one because all children learn in very different ways. Like me, I loved reading when I was a child but I learned better by listening and looking at pictures. Some children think noise is distracting or that bright fun colored pictures are so we have to think about all of them and not just the majority. So far I have found a lot of different teaching methods to cater to all students. It’s really interesting. Sorry I’m rambling aren’t I? I do that when I get excited.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. One time I told a detective that it’s safer to kiss instead of shake hands.”

“Ooh. Yikes. Don’t tell that to kids though, they will run around kissing each other and get some kind of disease I swear.” Conversation flowed easily between you both. You both took turns rambling while the other listened. It was comforting to have someone who actually listened and could understand you when you spoke a mile a minute. 

He couldn’t help but think the same. Most of his friends had teased him over his facts. You listened and asked questions. You didn’t cut him off or laugh. You were actually interested as was he when you spoke. You talked pretty fast but he managed to keep up. Before you realized it was no longer 1:30. It was 4:15. You had talked with him for hours and it only felt like minutes. You texted your uncle that you would just wait in the car for him but when Spencer got out you felt like you had to do it.

“Wait! Spencer!” He stopped and spun to see you running towards him. “Would you like to go out for dinner sometime? Maybe this weekend if you’re not on a case?” His smile was blinding.

“I love that.” You exchanged phone numbers.

“Perfect. Hopefully see you this weekend.” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek before running back to the car. He felt weak in the knees and thought he might collapse right then and there. Luckily he kept himself up until he got to the office. He was so excited and while he may not be religious, he prayed there wouldn’t be a case.

[satoruvt]

sink your teeth in (give me what i want)

pairing → yoon jeonghan x reader

word count → 1633

genre → like. suggestive? not fluff, not angst ↳ tags: ummmmm lol hitman au.... enemies with benefits..... i have a love/hate relationship with jeonghan and this is me projecting......

song inspo → taking off by one ok rock!!!!!!!

warnings → a few swears here and there, i mention murder but theres no detail about anything its all very vague, also suggestive!! but again vague

a/n → suddenly very aware that none of my banners are the same dimensions. upset. anyways i hate jeonghan but would do anything for him unforunately

You’ve had a problem with Yoon Jeonghan since your first day on the job.

It starts normal - your first client, your first target, fresh out of training. Your mentor gives you tips and tricks and you purposefully take an easier job, one where your client has a majority of the information you need to know. Their competitor - your target - is at a high-end hotel and will be there all night… all you have to do is find out which room.

And, well, kill them, but after the years you’ve spent training and working, you’re pretty confident.

So after some tracking you finally find out the room number your target’s staying at and gather your things - weapons, restraints, anything you could possibly need (and things you’ll eventually know to leave out) to get the job done. You plan it out as well as you can, you want no messes or trails, and when you finally get to the hotel room, ready to make a move…

Your target’s already dead. Sprawled across the floor, puddle of blood under them, gone. You drop your duffel bag in shock, barely take note of the open window, and instead focus on a little note propped up on the table by the body that has your name on it. The police are on their way, it reads when you turn it over. Don’t be here when they are.

It’s signed with multiple x’s and a name you learn to hate.

And since that job - years ago, when you were still a rookie - you and Jeonghan have always ended up on opposite sides. Sometimes you think that if fate had given the two of you a chance to work together on a job you wouldn’t hate him half as much, if at all. It’s a dangerous job, and hard - you take what you’re given, what you’re offered. Even if you were commissioned to work with Jeonghan of all people… you think maybe you wouldn’t be so offended by the simple thought of him.

That thought always leads you to think about why you hate him - you’ve met other hitmen, worked with them. Minghao was the most pleasant experience (as pleasant as it can be, killing others) and you still meet with him from time to time, get a drink or a bite to eat. And even Soonyoung, who you’ve simply talked to a few times, isn’t someone you’re at all close to hating, even when he’s a little too energetic.

You sigh, leaning back away from the telescope on your rifle. Your neck is starting to hurt from the position you’ve kept for what feels like hours, and you roll your head around in circles in hopes to ease the ache - quickly, though, you’re still waiting for your target to leave a building across the street from the empty parking garage you’ve stationed yourself at. When you look through the scope again you see the doors haven’t opened and let yourself drift in thought again: you’ve got along well with almost every other hitman you’ve come in contact with, so why -

“I was wondering where you were hiding out.”

Speak of the devil, you think dully, feeling the added ache of aggravation crawl up your spine. You don’t even spare a glance in his direction, instead trying to stop yourself from making Jeonghan your own personal target, client be damned.

“Yeah? Why is that?” you ask him, voice laced with a level of resentment even you’re not prepared for.

“Oh, to see my favorite person, of course!” Jeonghan replies, and it’s then you decide to turn and look at him. The moonlight from the other openings in the walls only illuminates the bottom half of his face, leaving his smug smirk in perfect view. He’s leaning against a pillar like he owns it. You’re extremely tempted to punch him.

“I’m trying to do my job, Jeonghan,” you settle on instead. God knows your client offered a charitable reward for your services, and you need the money. You can’t afford to risk this.

You hear the grin in his voice when he speaks. “Me too, honey.”

And you should have known, whenever he shows up he always brings some sort of fucking trouble, and you barely think when you’re standing up from your rifle and turning to fully look at him. “Who hired you?” You demand, because of course he has to do this, of course -

“You know we can’t disclose that sort of information,” Jeonghan says, voice teasing in nature but you know he’s serious. You don’t care. You stomp up to him, reach for his collar to pull him to you, chest-to-chest.

“Who the hell hired you?”

Your question doesn’t even receive an answer the second time, instead you’re only faced with a look that’s all too arrogant. You can’t help but roll your eyes, push him off of you with force until he stumbles back a few steps.

“Tell me who hired you,” you say lowly, looking him in the eye. “I’m tired of dancing around you all the time, playing these stupid games -”

“Really?” Jeonghan asks, sounding genuinely surprised. He takes a step closer to you and in a fit of pride, you stay where you are, leaving both of you dressed in low moonlight. His eyes are full of mirth, playful knowledge. “Because the last time we met, you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”

Memories of his skin flash in your mind like quick pictures, and you glare as hard as you possibly can at him. Your resolve has been crumbling since the first time you looked at him tonight and both of you know it and you hate it. “Leave me alone.”

“Are you sure you want that?” Jeonghan asks. You don’t answer him. You - you have a job to do, a target who is going to be walking out of the building across the street at any moment, if they haven’t already and you’ve been too preoccupied. Your client didn’t give you any date to have it done by, but this is by far the easiest time to get it done, everything lines up perfectly.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at you, steps another few inches forward until the tips of his shoes touch yours. His pointer finger comes under your chin and pushes it up, gentle but in control, so your eye line meets his perfectly. 

“What do you want?”

Something in you breaks (like it always does) and you throw all caution to the wind as you simultaneously push Jeonghan back against the pillar and pull him closer to you to mash your lips to him. It’s an angry kiss, seething and rough, sweetly bruising. Your hands are in his hair - longer than last time, your brain tells you without permission - and his are everywhere, all over you, any place he can reach without breaking away from you. You don’t know how long you spend letting his lips trace the shape of your own until he murmurs something along the lines of “I have a hotel room” and you’re grabbing your things in a rush and leaving with him.

It always crosses your mind at one point, when it happens, how stupid this whole thing is. The two of you doing this together, knowing you always crash and burn. It never stops you from going through with it, though. You figure if he’s taking you down, he might as well drag you all the way to hell.

You get to his hotel room (high-end, you note, which makes everything worse because you know he doesn’t even need this job anymore - not if he’s spending his reward money on things like this) and the heat kicks up again, leaves you stripping clothes and kissing skin. You think you mumble an “I hate you” against his lips at one point - for good measure - and he only grins, grins, kisses you harder to shut you up. It works.

When you finally feel each other, pressed into sheets and skin, listening to the way Jeonghan gasps again and again, you can’t help but think. You know everything you do is killing me.

The morning comes quick, makes you feel the bruises of Jeonghan’s hands more than the night before. You stretch and sigh and try to prepare yourself for an empty bed (it always is) but when you try to turn you realize an arm is still stretched across your stomach, heavy with the weight of sleep. Oh, you think first, and then, I need to leave right now.

So, slowly, you push Jeonghan’s arm off of you and then rush quietly to get dressed and gather your things. You’re sat on the edge of the bed, in the middle of tying your shoes, when he wakes up.

“Leaving already?” He asks, teasing as always. You don’t look at him.

“You’re usually the one gone by this point anyways.”

Your words contain no bite - surprisingly - only a simple observation. For some reason you think it’s worse that there’s no contempt in your tone, that you’d rather keep that up then go through… whatever this is. Neither of you speak.

When you stand up from the bed you’re forced to look at him, and there’s something in his eyes. Yearning, maybe. Longing. Your heart throbs and you pretend you don’t see it, pretend you can’t label the feeling.

You get to the door but stop, then give yourself a moment to take a breath of air in as you look back at Jeonghan. “I’m never letting this go,” you tell him, voice stern. You don’t know what you’re referencing - this grudge? Him?

Jeonghan only grins at you, knowing, and you leave the room before you can no longer stop yourself from grinning back.

[blushing-starker]

don't expect that line I previously mentioned because I'm chaotic and forgot about @starkerfestivals amazing omegaverse week since it goes hand in hand with finals and my brain only fit one of these events in my mental planner

Today's theme is heat/rut and it's slightly nff, has some sexual teasing but nothing too explicit. I'd rate this teen, is all I'm saying. I apologize for any writing mistakes, I'm finishing this at 11pm before collapsing in my bed.

Tagging @vaguekiwi cuz I mentioned this to her today

Needy little alpha

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

Tony wakes up to a purring alpha throwing himself on top of his defenseless body with the force of a freight train driven by a drunk man on drugs. Peter's been told a thousand times before how yes, he may be as heavy as a goddamn feather, but it still aches when that super strength plops down and refuses to let the victim's lungs function adequately. But his boyfriend is a sadist who loves cuddles and making Tony suffer.

"No."

"You love my cuddles," it's true, they bring him pain and purple bruises everywhere but there's nothing quite as soothing as a content alpha kneading like a kitten at his chest, " and you know it. "

"Uh, that's false. Never said I love cuddles. I tolerate your octopus habits, there's a difference." Peter leans back with a pout and teary eyes, wobbles that God forsaken bottom lip like he always does whenever Tony denies the kid something and presents a challenge.

Nimble fingers slide up into, unfortunately, silver hair and nonononono that's unfair. He snarls, tries to infuse the air with as many displeased pheromones as possible so Peter can take a hint when nails scratch right above his nape and Tony's done. Unravels at this hobgoblin's feet and he's half way sure his soul goes out in a huff as little circles are pressed into the exact spot that causes him so much neck pain.

Peter unashamedly preens when Tony melts into their bed and starts pawing at him for more cuddles. "Say you love my cuddles and I won't leave the bed for an hour. Throw in a kiss and I'll rub your back."

He hates(loves) this kid. Hates(loves) how he sing songs as soon as the situation doesn't favour the actually responsible adult in the relationship. Hates(loves) the way Peter never misses the places that leave him sinking into fluffy pillows. Hates how, oh that's nice.

There are tiny kisses littered on a chest glowing blue, small indentations from teasing lips pressed into spread arms and cold hands.

"Ruts gotten you needy, huh, little alpha?" Not that this one was any different from all the other ruts they've shared since dating. Tony secretly adores Peter like this, extra affectionate the minute his shyness and fear of outside criticism is washed away, replaced with the need to shower his omega in love and attention. Yes, Peter has his heart 365 days of the year. Yes, he'd die for his tiny spiderling no matter what.

But this is just really nice, ok? Previous lovers were rarely alphas so this ritual of gluing their bodies together when rut came was an added benefit to being with Peter. That and the hormones he let out while happy soothed Tony to no end.

Peter nips at his finger, still a bit too early on for him to accept the nicknames. He blushes though, a pale pink highlighting a face much more lovely than the cherubs painted on the cathedrals of Rome. Jesus, he's whipped and all they've done is cuddle.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love your cuddles. Cherish them. Want them every day for the rest of my life. But I love you, my needy little alpha with a fantastic," there's a pillow smashed against his face.

"If you say dick, I'm climbing down to wrestle Bucky and I won't let Karen record it for your spank bank. " Oh, that's a low blow.

He relaxes, let's Peter sink into him with a startled yelp, rolls them over, sits on the kid's lap and clamps his knees around a trim waist. Peter may be Spider-Man, but he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark doesn't lose in bed.

Well. Not unless he wants to.

"You do that and you can say hello to your toy, the one I know is stashed in your old room under the bed in a comic book box, because that'll be the only thing helping you out when the rut really hits." Will Tony suffer immensely if that happens? Yes. He's a sucker for a needy Peter being ridiculously horny and possessive. Thing is, you don't threaten a man's spank bank. No sir. Everything else is fair play. His carefully organized folders of viewing material are not to be messed with.

Peter's blush is on full blast, spreads over a long neck and absolutely delicious, no. Be strong, Tony.

"You know about the toy?" It's a squeak, normal voice rocketing upwards thanks to the position Tony's ass is in and the knowledge that his secret is out. Which wasn't even a secret to begin with anyway because Tony is in love with the only genius not smart enough to erase his browser history in the lab's computer. Which Tony uses. Routinely. Every day.

"Know about it? I've seen it. You left it out once, all used up on your bed while you were showering. You remember that, don't you? We had sex in the bathroom that day. Bruised my back and everything?"

Peter furrows his brow, works a plush lip and no, look away, Tony, look away. The kid is sin and indulgence and heaven and no.

"Oh. Oh." Whenever he thinks his boy can't go any redder, Peter busts out a new shade of pink.

"Yup. So. I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted in the first place. Maybe it wasn't your intention," he stresses when Peter's already launching up and nearly throwing him off in an attempt to reassure Tony that wasn't his purpose with the cuddles, "but you certainly wouldn't have minded this outcome. And by this outcome I mean my incredible ass on top of that fantastic dick."

Peter tries to suffocate with a pillow held over his face.

"You've got two choices, kid. You threatened the spank bank. The teasing is fine, you know I love when my pretty kitty shows his claws," a hand slaps his arm, makes him grin, " But threatening such an integral part of my mental stability? Wrong move, Queens. You aren't getting any until tonight, not even so much as a French kiss will be given. Unless you let me bite a mark on that amazing neck and don't push me away when I nuzzle you in front of the team. "

Well. Now he's definitely being thrown off of Peter's lap.

He lands on the other side of the bed with a groan, is assaulted by a whining Peter intent on receiving something to further postpone the urge for sex that's sure to hit him soon enough.

An alpha, Tony's learned, will usually be very cuddly and affectionate the first few days of a rut week. Then the possessive, protective side will slowly emerge. Nests of pillows, couch cushions, blankets and favorite pieces of clothing appear on the fourth sunrise. The next morning comes with the need for relief, for intimacy and a marathon of sex that'll leave any supersoldier exhausted by the end of it. The resulting days offer comfort, an aftercare of sorts, where the alpha and their partner show a soft affection similar to the beginning. Nests are utilized and bodies soothed. It lasts, at most, a week and the majority of the population only has to take slightly increased portions of food.

That's for people without the metabolism of four grown men.

Peter needs sex, as much as possible, so the itch for urgent intimacy doesn't result in Tony tackled to the floor of the lab in the middle of an experiment every day of the week. It's like giving him nicotine patches instead of a cigarette.

So now he's whimpering, tugging on Tony's clothes just a little too hard if the ripping sound is any indication.

"...sorry, Tony..."

"It's fine, I've got more. I'm not letting this go though. The teams' seen us fuck against a wall, their opinion and respect, your worth, didn't change. So come on. Just one little mark. One. And Bucky nuzzles Steve and Sam all the time. Hell, Pepper sometimes nuzzles me when I'm stressed out. Please, baby? "

There it was; Tony's secret weapon. Peter blushed like a virgin on a wedding night whenever he used pet names, but the genius knows his boyfriend enjoys the familiarity and subtle intimacy. Felt reassured that they were a romantic couple and not a mentor fucking his protege.

The kid nibbles at his neck, wraps gangly limbs around a body that's always been his to take comfort in. "Just one mark? And light, I mean it, Tony, light nuzzling in front of the team. For today. Then I can get what I want?"

He snorts, can't fully comprehend how the universe paired him up with someone so intent on making Tony's joints ache and creak. "Yeah, we can have sex later, Mr Charming. Subtle as brick, that Spider-Man. Let's go get you cleaned up, make sure that rut has a hard time getting my boy under the weather."

He goes to get up. He leans forward. He cannot, in fact, leave the bed.

Peter bites with a bit more pressure, drops his hips down harder and Jesus Christ, they're never seeing the light of the kitchen if his boyfriend can't wait til it's dark.

"Or..."

"I'm an old man, I need protein before you go jumping tired bones that have to spend two hours updating your suit." Ok, so maybe he's slightly bitter and annoyed at not having enough stamina (or refractory period, for that matter) to keep up with a repressed teenage superhuman. It's not his fault Pepper keeps bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to the office meetings.

It'd be rude not to eat with the others anyway.

"You don't have to do anything." Ah, it's one of those ruts.

Tony softens, smoothes a hand down a back that could hold a plank under a five story building with ease, kisses a heated cheek.

"Needy little alpha." It's his turn to whisper and nuzzle against soft skin.

"Kind, not so little omega?" Tony laughs, presses their lips together so Peter can see what's it like to taste a smile radiating with joy and love. Slowly clicks the button on the nearest nightstand; unless someone is dying , it'll just be the two of them in the room.

(There was an incident once. Groot may have been traumatized by a situation involving superstrength, webs and the Ironette costume Tony only adored when it adorned Peter's body.)

"I do so love my needy little alpha needing me, don't I?"

His boyfriend blinks, grins at Tony as if he's just hung the moon and stars for his spiderling and ok, a little sex early in the morning isn't that bad.

"You love my cuddles too."

"Shut up and kiss me, Queens. I'm not getting any-"

They don't talk about anything too important after that.

----------

A little sex early in the morning actually is that bad when you miss a meeting with the U.N and show up smelling like sex, infatuation and, oddly enough, strawberry.

Rocket doesn't stop teasing for months.

[robyn-loves-horror]

Can you do some brahmsy x reader please?

FINALLY got around to finishing this! I’m in love with domestic Brahms stuff. It’s nice to get back to some writing. Hope everyone’s in the mood for some good old fashioned fluff.

         The rain had scarcely let up since it had started three days prior. You glanced outside as you passed the tall windows at the top of the stairs. The sky was beginning to look as though it would never be blue again, and the trees almost look normal leaning to one side due to the heavy winds. 

          You made your way down the long secluded hallway. Brahms hadn’t been out of his room all morning, more than likely he was still pouting. You’d promised that the two of you would have a picnic in the garden the day before, but with the storm you told him that it would have to wait. You’d had to be more stern than you normally liked to be with him when he’d started throwing a tantrum. He stayed in his room the rest of the day, or at least he wanted you to think that. You had gotten good at hearing where he was in the walls after all this time. Even today, he’d barely talked to you when you woke him that morning. Normally he was excited over a dream, or about whatever he was to do that day. This time around you could barely get three words out of him at a time.

          As you approached his door you knew he could hear you coming. He knew every creak in the floorboards, and cry of the doors in this house and exactly where they were. You knocked anyway. “Brahms?” You slowly opened his door and peaked in. He was sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed idly sketching in the sketch pad you had bought him for his birthday. He was still wearing what he slept in, except his mask. Slowly you were getting him to wear it less, but he still did sometimes, especially if he’s upset about something.

         He didn’t look up as you came in and walked over to him. “May I sit with you, honey?” You’d taken up calling him sweet little petnames, he loves it. He gives a small nod as you settle next to him. After a moment Brahms turns his sketch pad toward you, he wanted you to see what he made. You lean closer to him, of course it’s a sketch of yourself. He tended to draw flowers, and trees, and little things around the house. But if he ever drew a person, it was usually you. He was surprisingly  good at your likeness, you wondered if he drew you more and just didn't show you those. “I love it Brahms,” you patted his slender wrist, “I’m sorry about the picnic yesterday, sweetie.” 

           He rubbed the edge of the page with his thumb, “it’s alright,” he answered gently, “you can’t help the rain.” He was getting better at controlling his anger. The fact he even listened to you when you’d sent him to his room the night before with only stomps and a door slam was major progress. “We can have a picnic when the sun comes back out,” he raised his pencil to work on his sketch.

          “Yes, we certainly can,” you smiled at him, “but how would you feel if I had a surprise for you right now?” He turned to look at you for the first time that day, even behind the porcelain mask you could see he was beaming with excitement.

          “Really Nanny?” You nodded at him. “What is it?” He looked around, looking for a present.

           “It’s not a present,” you held up your hands to show you weren’t hiding anything. He looked disappointed for a moment. You hooked your finger under his chin to get him to look up at you again, “you’ll like it anyway I think, but you have to do something for me first.” He nodded. “Ok, get all washed up, change your clothes, and come down to the parlor. And that’d be all I need you to do for me.”

          He jumped up and quickly grabbed the clothes you’d set out for him that morning before going to the bathroom. You followed him out a moment later, after putting away the pencils and paper he’d left out. You ran back downstairs, knowing Brahms he’d be down in no time at all. You quickly threw an extra log on the fire to keep it from dying down too much. Before you knew it you could hear him coming down the stairs. You turned as he opened the door. He let out a soft gasp when he saw what you’d done for him.

          In front of the fireplace you’d laid out a large soft quilt, and on top was all his favorites. Sandwiches, lemonade, one of his books, and even the little cakes you’d made for him last Christmas. “I know it’s not the same as a picnic outside,” you sat down and poured a glass of lemonade, “but hopefully we can still have fun inside.” 

           He hurried over and gave you a tight hug, nearly spilling the glass you were holding. “Thank you Nanny,” he whispered in your ear. You smiled and handed him the glass, “You’re welcome Brahms.” You pulled away slightly and put your hands on the cheeks of his mask, “now silly, you can’t possibly eat with this thing on.” Carefully, you pulled the mask from his face and gently set it on the nearby table.

          His mask may be like a security blanket for him, covering the burns on his face and making him feel like a better version of himself, but you loved looking at his bare face. Watching his lips smile, and his blue eyes twinkle, it could brighten any rainy day.

           The two of you ate together in a comfortable near silence as the storm raged on outside. Brahms poured you more glasses of lemonade, and insisted you have one of his cakes as another little thank you. When there was nothing more but crumbs to eat you finally grabbed his book. You turned to Brahms and patted your crossed legs. He quickly obliged you, laying down on the floor with his head in your lap. You opened the book to where you had left off the last time you’d read it to him and began. You read for who knows how long, probably hours, in those funny voices and inflections you knew he loved so much. All the while he closed his eyes and smiled, if he’d fallen asleep you didn't know when. As you read on and on you ran your fingers through his hair, combing and curling it around your fingers. Before you knew it, you’d read three more chapters and the fire was nearly out. You mark your spot and close the book before leaning down and planting a small kiss on Brahms forehead. He awoke and smiled up at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. 

         “It’s starting to get a bit cold in here,” you helped him sit up, “how would you like a cup of hot chocolate to warm us up?” He excitedly nodded. “Great,” you handed him the book, “why don’t you put this away while I clean up in here and we’ll have some.”

           He took the book from you, “I can help clean up too (Y/N).” You smiled a bit wider. He didn’t often call you by your name, but you loved it when he did. “That would be awfully kind of you Brahms,” you gave him another small kiss, on the cheek this time. “Grab the glasses and pitcher and take them to the kitchen please,” you instructed. He happily picked up the glassware and took it out of the room. As you set aside the plates and began folding the blanket you found that you were still smiling to yourself. Life certainly was strange. You never could’ve imagined you’d be in this place doing what you were doing, but it made you happy. You loved the Heelshire home. You loved what you did. And more than anything else, you loved Brahms.

            Almost as though he could hear your thoughts he appeared back in the doorway. You finished putting the quilt back in the old trunk you’d taken it from and grabbed the plates. “Now, should we add marshmallows to this hot chocolate?” You laughed as he followed you back out of the room, happily specifying how many marshmallows he wants. Neither of you noticed that he’d left his mask sitting on the table in the parlor.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four: Part 1

Anti finds a new home for himself and his puppets and makes a couple violent power plays.

Tws: physical abuse/beatings, stabbing, imprisonment, temporary major character death, and extreme distress

-

Part 1 - Reversal

It’s an awkward car ride, to say the least.

Red hot-wired the truck from the parking lot and Trick climbed into the driver’s seat with Anti still wearing Blue’s body beside him. Dapper sits between Red and Dok, enduring periodic lovingly-concerned glances from both of them in quiet silence, his head against Red’s shoulder. Trick and Red won’t meet each other’s eyes in the rearview and Dok rubs absent-mindedly at his side and at his necklaces, trying to decide his next move.

“Turn here,” says Anti, once they’ve got about an hour away from the motel. The trees grow huge and beautiful around them and everything smells of earth and water. Red perks up. Staying somewhere around here would rock.

Trick turns the car and they keep on down an unkempt dirt road until -

“Okay,” says Anti, pointing. “Here you go.”

“Motherfuck,” whispers Trick.

“What he said,” agrees Red, leaping out of the truck as he parks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s a nice house,” says Anti.

“It isn’t a house,” murmurs Dok. “That’s a motherfucking mansion.”

Huge windows stare out into the forest around them from the square and stylish body of a grey-stone house, the doors curved like those of old Roman buildings, lights dangling from every other piece of rock. Balconies protrude from room windows and a tall proud brown fence surrounds a big piece of land in the backyard. Squirrels and birds flicker overhead in the warmth of the early morning, the trees sighing in the wind.

“Red, ditch the car later,” Anti commands, heading towards the door. With a blink of his eyes, he unlocks the electronic handle and opens the way for his pets. “The man who lived here was a paranoid recluse. The whole house is coated in cameras and there’s all the medical supplies we could ever need in the bathroom. It will be the perfect place to get their attention from. Come on, then, darlings. Don’t you want to explore?”

.

Dapper walks into the house alone, behind his siblings, almost envious of Blue’s cane, as he feels, for whatever reason, the need to collapse.

Blue does collapse, the moment Anti is gone from his body. One moment they’re standing together at the foot of the great dark stairway with its twisting rail - a moment later the body collapses, and Red is racing forward to catch his twin. Blue slumps back into his arms, bleeding a little from the right eye, and Red is quick to pull him away into a big sitting room, dragging him onto a couch.

“Roser,” Dapper hears Blue murmurs.

“Azul,” replies Red quietly, knocking their foreheads together.

The two of them have had little time together. Since Peru, all Blue seems to do is sleep. Red just lets him. All they want is to take care of each other. Now they’ll at least get a couple minutes to catch up.

Dok and Trick are entertaining themselves with ransacking the house, even Henrik looking happy with the change, though Dapper sees how he limps as he tries to keep up with his over-excited twin.

“There’s a motherfucking pool!” Trick shouts from one side of the house.

“The pantry is stuffed!” answers Dok from the kitchen.

“Hey, ping pong, haha!”

“Oh… a library.”

“And all sorts of instruments, Dok, come look!”

“Fuck, a whole alcohol cabinet. Trick, you’re going to - ”

“Stay away, I know, I know!”

“The doors all lock electronically anyway,” answers Anti mildly, examining the garage, where a couple old-fashioned cars in need of repairs are exhausted against the earth or jacked up on a long-abandoned raise. He shuts the garage and turns away, his dark gaze flickering over Dapper for a moment, who stares back without challenge in his eyes. “So don’t go trying to pull a fast one on me, I’ll lock you in.”

He steps closer to Dapper, patting his back as he passes.

“Upstairs is all for you and me, love,” he says. “We can stay in the master bedroom. Isn’t that nice?”

Dapper nods, glancing up at the stairs. No. He doesn’t think he likes this house. But he knows to say yes.

“It’s good,” Anti re-iterates, tilting his head at him.

Dapper feels the need for more of a response waiting in the air between them, but Anti just looks at him.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

Even this does not seem to satisfy Anti. His brother draws back uncertainly, touching his back again, looking at him.

“Your moods will steady out again soon as the medicine kicks in,” says Anti, tugging on a curl of his hair. “Go, go upstairs and get settled.”

Dapper glances at Blue and Red whispering together on the couch and Dok and Trick playing with the settings on the fridge.

He turns and heads upstairs.

Just settle, something in his head is telling him. Be excited. It’ll be nice here. You’ll be spoiled because of the attempt. Just settle down again. Settle. Settle.

He wants to. He always has before. And it has kept him alive and favored and sometimes even sane.

But he doesn’t know how to settle again. There was, for just a moment, on the side of that cliff, a taste of freedom.

The craving has not died.

.

Anonymous asked: red, blue, how are you two doing?

“How are you feeling?” asks Red, rubbing his thumb over Blue’s beard.

“Better now that you’re here,” answers Blue, grinning up at him.

Red purses his mouth in an exaggerated kissy face and leans in. Blue bursts into laughter and swats at his head, pushing him away - but his laughter devolves into deep coughing and he ends up splayed across Red’s shoulder, his head down on his back, wheezing through the fit.

“The cameras said you were sick,” says Red. “And all I could do was just know about it and do nothing. And know it was my fault.”

Blue’s face contorts. “No… it wasn’t your fault.”

“I left you behind.”

“You were scared,” says Blue, stroking the back of his head. “I understand.”

“No, Blue, really, please… I’m sorry. Okay? I want you to know you’re important to me. You’re more important than - ”

“Don’t,” whispers Blue, cutting him off. “Don’t say things that will get you in trouble.”

Red sighs, gripping his hand. “I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” murmurs Blue. “I was angry for a while. But mostly I’ve just missed you.”

“Dumb old me?”

“Dumb old you,” chuckles Blue.

“I’m never going to leave you behind again,” says Red. “I swear.”

He draws him into a tight hug. For a long moment, they just rest together, and they hold each other.

“I think there was something else you were going to tell me all about,” adds Blue after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Something about… a boyyyy?”

Red flushes even deeper than the night before, burying his face in Blue’s shirt, and his twin just laughs and holds him tight, rocking them against the fancy couch.

Anonymous asked: Blue, is he possessing you EVERY night? Like have you been allowed any recovery time between possessions at all?

Blue coughs again and rubs at his bleeding eye. “It’s been at least every morning,” he says. “It’s horrible. And then I’m so tired I just sleep all day… but yeah, night and morning is when his sickness is the worst, he says, so if he wears me, he doesn’t get sick. The magic just thinks it’s back in my skin. Where it should be.”

“Morning sickness,” says Red wisely. “Like a pregnant lady.”

“Fuck, imagine a baby Anti.”

“That’s just Dapper.”

“You take that back!” snorts Blue, punching him in the arm. “How fucking dare you - I am enraged - he is the sweetest - fuck you, Ro!”

Red laughs, getting up to adjust Blue on the couch, trying to make him more comfortable. “No, he isn’t. I’m just kidding. Dapper isn’t really like Anti at all. But he did tear the guy who owned this house to shreds last night.”

“He’s got a little of Anti’s ferocity in him,” sighs Blue, listing back against the pillows. “If he could, he’d use it for nice things.”

“Maybe I can convince Anti to possess me at night sometimes instead of you.”

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

“There’s only so much more of this you can take, Blue.”

Blue shrugs, rubbing at his face. “At least Dok’s allowed to look after me.”

Anonymous asked: Hey dapper, are you doing alright? Relatively, anyway.

“Doing alright, doing alright,” he answers politely. “Just… yes. Fine…”

He climbs the stairs step-by-step, weaving his way up to the second floor. He glances over the side of the banister as he reaches the top, and then just as quickly draws away, stepping back, blinking rapidly. He puts an uncertain arm around his stomach and turns away from the ledge, his mouth twisting.

Anonymous asked: dapper? are you ok?

“Never been nervous about heights before,” he signs, laughing a little, though his arm wraps protectively around his stomach again as soon as he’s done talking. He spots the fanciest door yet and nods his head at you, drawing you towards it.

“Big master bedroom!” he signs. “Big, big!”

He holds his arms out comically wide and smiles at you. This is, you suspect, his attempt at being cheerful, but it’s pretty weak, especially considering how sunken his eyes seem.

It is a big room, though, and the bed is just as unnecessarily enormous, spreading across one whole wall, a big California king.

Dapper killed the man who used to sleep there just yesterday. His hands reach gently out and smooth over the pillow, pushing the wrinkles away, leaving it smooth and white and blameless.

It’s a clean white room with some dressers and drawers. There’s a big bathroom attached, with a tub and everything, but he doesn’t much care. At least there’s a wide window with a nice sill. He pushes the glass open and sticks his head out for a moment, taking a deep, deep breath.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” he tells you. “See, look.”

Ah, the world spreads wide from out this window, as if every beauty there is to be had can be found somewhere in the gaps between the trees and the glowing of the sun over the leaves and the movement of the birds in the air. The forest sweeps faraway from him, gold and red and glowing. The wind ruffles his soft hair.

Dapper sinks down onto the ledge of the window and folds his arms beneath his chin.

Do you remember the days when you would sit with him on the sill of his window in Norway, and he would wait for the Northern lights to come? Do you remember the faint smile on his face and the way he would chatter to you and the joy in his eyes over things like fish and chips and trips to the store? Do you remember the smudged wall where he drew something he once loved and then covered it up once again, because remembering was so much more trouble than it was worth?

He is not that man now.

He does not speak to you. He does not smile. His eyes are fixed on the sky, but he knows there is nothing coming.

Anonymous asked: Dap, I don't mean to pry if you don't want to talk, but remember you have support in your brothers and with us no matter how strange things get. I know things have changed (again) And we can't tell you HOW to feel, only it is OKAY to feel.

He turns to glance at you and he tries to smile again, bringing you fondly to his chest, the better for you to see the world outside.

“I feel sad,” he admits after a long moment. “But what’s the point in that?”

“How do you like it?”

Anti’s voice startles him and Dapper jolts, slamming his head into the top of the window. Anti gives a sharp “oh!” and glitches even closer, cupping his face in one hand and running the other through Dapper’s hair, looking for a goose egg.

“Poor thing,” he says, frowning down at him. “That’s no fun, smacking your little head.”

Dapper shakes his head wearily, his face scrunched up with pain.

“But you like the room?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Well, you can have the whole top floor to yourself, except Blue and Dok will be around at night. And brother, of course.”

“Of course.”

Anti stands behind him for a second, petting his hair, looking out at the world with him.

“Pretty, huh?”

“I hate all these fucking squirrels,” says Anti. “And the birds. Yuck.”

“You’re the worst,” signs Dapper, with an odd sort of fondness.

Anti kisses the side of his head. “No more hurting yourself, right?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Okay. Cause if you ever scare me like that again - ” Anti’s grip tightens around his chin. “You’ll really regret it, alright, little man?”

“Yes, Anti.”

He smiles and lets him go, moving around the room and beginning to explore.

Anonymous asked: you don't need to pretend, dapper. you can be honest with us. i take it you're still feeling bad, and i can't blame you after all that happened. at least this house is nice? a tiny silver lining in amongst everything else.

“I’m hoping I will feel better soon,” Dapper agrees, watching Anti move around the room. “I was hoping he would get me a kitten or a puppy or a mouse or something since Trick got a kitten after his attempt, but I don’t think anything would convince Anti to let a pet in his room. But, yes, the house is nice. We will not be cold or too hungry I’m hoping!”

“This bathroom stinks,” complains Anti, throwing his head and retreating from inside. “That’s horrible.”

“It smells bad?”

“There’s like a million lotions and bath bombs and soaps and dumb shit in here. That’s so strong. It reeks of rose.”

Dapper blinks, getting up from the sill and stepping over towards Anti. He steps into the bathroom.

The flowery scents are almost overwhelming and Dapper’s pretty sure Anti’s nose is stronger than a normal human’s. But to him, it still smells pretty nice. The tub is huge, coated in little baskets of soaps and bath fizzies and shampoos and things. There’s even candles and bubble bath. It’s a little pretentious, but pretty fun too.

“Does it smell that strong to you?” asks Dapper, turning to frown at his brother.

Anti gags, backing away from the room. “Feel like I walked into a Bed, Bath, and whatever. Better keep that door shut. Check there’s nothing rowan, too. I’m going to go look around the forest.”

“What? You’re going down to the forest? You hate nature.”

“Apt. But I have someone I need to find, and if I don’t start looking, they’ll just find me first.” Anti grins coyly, eyes trailing away. “It’s an excellent game to play.”

“Okay. I - ”

Anti has already glitched away.

Dapper pauses, looking around the room.

An idea starts to form in his head.

cest-mellow asked: jameson, things are gonna be okay. you can have your family again, you’ll get them back. but you all have to work together in this. don’t. settle. just wait for the moment to strike. all five of you need to be in on this.

Dapper can tell when Blue and Doktor are plotting.

A change has come over them from the last time he saw them. It isn’t something he can put his finger on - more of a feeling.

More like deja vu. Like he’s seeing someone he hasn’t seen in a long time.

But the point is that when they come up the stairs at ten o clock exactly, he knows from the way they exchange looks and brush each other’s hands - they are thinking of something they should not be thinking of.

He knows he should tell them off, but he doesn’t have the heart.

“I don’t think Trick acts normal at all. I worry he’s only getting worse.”

“Red is a wreck since Anti took him back. He can’t focus.”

“And Dapper?”

“I haven’t spent much time with him yet - I never do - but he’s melancholy, he’s tired, he’s - sitting at the top of the stairs watching us! Hi, buddy!”

Dapper smiles softly, letting his head rest against the bars of the stairs. “You two are not very sneaky,” he signs.

“We’re not sneaking,” protests Blue, pausing for a breath halfway up the stairs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dok doesn’t seem to think it’s funny, though. His face is lost and afraid. He doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to scheme. He wants to act.

His family can’t take any more of this. It’s only a matter of time before the cracks become chasms.

But you’re right, and that’s the worst part. He can’t save his siblings from themselves. He needs all five.

Dok and Blue make it to the top of the stairs and give their little brother a hug, feeling him meld against their bodies. This is the only way they have to promise it right now - you can have your family again. Here we are.

“Boring day?”

“The cameras and I did some exploring.”

“Good. Come on, then. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Blue’s back slams against the door of the shower, pinning him hard along the glass. He cries out and hears Henrik shouting on the other side of the bathroom, screeching for Anti to stop. Dapper is noiseless, but, opening his exhausted eyes, he can see his youngest brother staring back at him from the doorway, eyes wide.

“Dok, don’t fight, don’t fight,” he croaks.

Anti’s foot connects with the side of Blue’s head. Henrik shrieks and throws himself at Anti, tearing at his face with his long white nails, and Anti slams him into the bathroom sink hard. Henrik grips at his jarred hip with a gasp, crumbling to his knees on the cold tile of the floor.

Everything smells like blood and rose.

“You are the one who’s fighting,” laughs Anti, turning his attention back to Blue with something burning like a flame in blackened eyes, as a match already consumed by its fire. “So weak. So frail. And still he thinks he can resist me by closing his eyes and walling up his mind.”

Anti grabs Blue by the collar and hauls him to his feet. He starts to shake Blue, shoving him against the shower door, and Blue can only gasp as his head is struck back against the door.

“You two think you have any control?” hisses Anti, slamming him back again. “You think you have anything? You think you can do anything? I’m in control. I’m in control! Stop - trying - to fight me!”

The defenses in Blue’s mind crash to the ground and he cries out in his last moment of being his own for the night. He hears Dapper make a soft, mournful noise, and perhaps even sees his white hands reach out for Anti as though to tell him to stop - but it isn’t enough to save him.

Oil floods beneath Blue’s skin. Heat crawls across his face and buries itself in his stomach. His thoughts paralyze and then sink, and he is drowned back into the back of his mind, struggling to breathe but feeling Anti’s lungs moving instead, struggling to speak but feeling Anti’s lips part with words, struggling to stay conscious but sinking, sinking, sinking down into a place with no awareness.

It is Anti who opens his eyes.

“Monster!” Henrik is howling, trying to get up from the floor, his side bleeding anew. “Fucking monster, fucking creep! We’re not yours! We don’t belong to you! You can’t steal his own skin from him like that! You’re a monster, fuck you!” He curses at him in German, throwing himself forward again. Anti intercepts his punch. Dok never has been his strongest fighter.

“Anti, don’t hurt him,” Dapper’s hands beg. “Please! He’s just scared!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the clean white porcelain of the sink.

“Blame it on the magicians, Anti, he isn’t himself!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the blood on the porcelain of the sink.

“Trickshot can probably hear this, Anti!”

The sight of the name on his hands in the mirror stiffens Anti’s shoulders.

Henrik groans, his glasses broken on one side of his face and blood dripping through his hair. Anti lets go of him and he slumps to the ground, dazed and nauseous, gripping meekly at the wound in his head, a whimper falling from his mouth. Dapper moves forward to be with him, but, without even turning to look, Anti snags his throat and shoves him away.

“Go get in your fucking bed,” he growls, his eyes dark. He’s flickering through the cameras. Did Trickshot hear that? Did Red? He’ll break the pair of them down to atoms too if he has to, but he’d prefer to let good dogs be good dogs, and not incite their snapping.

Trickshot is in the kitchen in a pair of new shorts Anti bought him and a shirt covered in cacti, nibbling on a Poptart. He hasn’t reacted to the banging or the shouting. He might not have heard it. Red, for his part, is picking at the poetry books in the library, his eyes faraway and dreamy. Anti relaxes.

“Motherfucker,” Henrik slurs. He tries to get back to his feet, but only succeeds in slumping back down to the tile. Anti regards him coldly.

“You really did let yourself get stupid,” he says. “You really have forgotten just how much better it is to be obedient than rebellious.”

He reaches down to grab Henrik by the hair, dragging him up. Henrik moans, struggling to balance himself, staggering as Anti pulls him towards the door.

“I broke you in once,” hisses Anti. “And you hated me more then, believe it or not. You hated me more then and I shattered you like the broken thing you were always meant to be. Come on, Henrik. If this is the game you want to play, let’s play. I’ll take you to your room.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, Trickshot, go upstairs, go upstairs right now, Anti is hurting Dok, Anti is beating your twin, please if this gets through go help him

“No, no, no, no no no!” laughs Anti, snatching a camera from Dapper’s hand as he marches Dok down the hall. “This is a new era, ladies and gents and all my lovely prefer not to answers out there! I’m sick of your bullshit. You’re here for my entertainment and I am the ONLY one in control. I am the only one here with any power over what happens next. Good luck fucking wrestling it from me. I’m a god among ants. If I say this message doesn’t go to Trick, then it doesn’t go to Trick. Not that he’d come upstairs anyway. He knows the rules and the master who sets them.”

Dapper races out onto the first floor after them, whistling for Anti’s attention, trying to catch up. Anti moves two doors down and finds the third at the back of the floor, a white door, tightly closed. He throws it open and pushes Henrik inside.

It isn’t a finished room. Clearly someone - someone a very long time ago, it seems - had plans to redo it, because half of the carpet has been stripped down to hard grey flooring and the room is bare and cold and undecorated. Henrik sees something skitter in the side of the room. He is too concussed for his pupils to shrink in fear.

“Tr-iiick,” he slurs out, grasping at Anti’s hands. “Trick, plea…”

“He can’t help you now,” snaps Anti. “Unless you want to tell him what I’m doing and have him take your place?”

“No!” cries Henrik. “No, leave him ‘lone. Bruder… he’s lost in his hhhead…”

Anonymous asked: henrik, is he still hurting you right now?

Anti opens a white closet and shoves Henrik to his knees, slamming the door behind him. It takes him only a second to fetch chain, ignoring Dapper’s protests the whole time. He chains together the wooden doors of the closet, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t want to do this anymore!” Dapper is screaming at him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Please, he doesn’t need to be hurt!”

“Stop it, Dap!” snaps Anti, whirling to grab his wrist. “If you start causing me problems you’re going to get the same treatment, damn your freak snaps! I’m not losing what’s mine now. He’ll be Dok before you know it and then everything will go back to normal again, and you and I can be brothers like we were.”

He steps into Dapper’s space, grabbing his chin and walking him back towards their room, his eyes boring into him. “Isn’t that what you want? Don’t you want to be brothers again? Don’t you remember when we were friends?”

“The person you showed me you were since the time when I loved you is more terrible and cruel than I ever let myself imagine. A child loved you. I am a man.”

Something more horrible than rage burns in Anti’s eyes. He does not let go of Dapper’s chin, backing him up, up, up, towards their bedroom, ink and blood dripping from his canine mouth.

“I am going to forget you said that,” he whispers, his eyes crimson. “Just. This. Once. Do you understand?”

Dapper closes his eyes, his back thumping against the door of the bedroom.

Anonymous asked: If he can't get into your brain then he's fucking powerless compared to you, Henrik, you are strong beyond wildest imagination. The only reason he got you the first time was because he wormed and hypnotized his way into you mind but he can't do that now. Remember the necklaces he's useless to remove. You have power. You have strength. You have control. He can never take the "Henrik" out of you completely.

Henrik is so concussed he can barely see straight.

It takes him long minutes to find you in the dim light of the closet, slowly leaning against the wall and hoisting himself up until he’s reached an approximation of a sitting position, his head swaying when he takes it away from the wall even for a moment. He can’t quite read the message on the camera in the corner of the closet, but he thinks he gets the gist. You see his hands enclose around the triplet necklaces on his breast, coughing.

“I am Henrik no matter what he tries to mmmake of me,” he whispers, slumping down against the wall. “I… am…”

His eyes are closed.

cest-mellow asked: anti, obviously torturing and hurting the boys hasn’t worked so far, what in the HELL makes you think it’ll work now?? they will ALWAYS rebel. always. you will go down and all five of them will be dancing on your grave.

“I saw the lights go out of their eyes one-by-one,” he hisses, his eyes like those of a dog’s. “I saw them die in the blood on my hands. I made Jameson kiss me and Jackie risk his life for mine. I made Marvin a loyalist and Henrik a torturer. I made Jack’s perfect, loyal, loving little copycat boy mine.”

He pushes Dapper onto the bed. His little brother stares back at him. In the moonlight, Dapper’s eyes, for one moment, look as black as Anti’s.

“It worked,” says Anti, turning his back on him to fetch him PJs from their backpack. “It worked. It just needs a refresher. I am already dancing on the graves that I buried them in.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, what are you doing to him?

“I won’t do anything if you’re good,” says Anti, with the much-too-level voice of an aggressor who thinks that non-violence is mercy. “I told you - I think we should be friends again. You’re a good boy and I’ve always liked you. You’ve been under too much stress lately and you’re very ill, that’s all that’s wrong. You’ll come back to yourself soon enough. You and I, after all, are intertwined.”

He leans into Dapper’s face. Dapper can smell Blue’s toothpaste.

“Don’t make me meld you back into me through fire,” warns Anti, a bright orange begonia curling around his ear.

Anonymous asked: Dapper you need to reverse, please. You can prevent this, change this.

“Don’t you dare,” warns Anti, pointing back at him. Dapper does not quake underneath his gaze. “Don’t you even think about it. I’ll know. Your eyes will be silver for at least twenty minutes and you’re not getting that long alone tonight. Besides, I’d smell you. That smell that imprinted on you when you were new to the world. I would know the smell of your magic anywhere. You better watch what those cameras tell you, Mr. Monochroma… one of these days, they’re going to get you in trouble.”

He throws red fleece pants and a penguin t-shirt at Dapper.

“Get changed, puppy,” he orders. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

Blue’s body sways and Anti shakes his head out, dizzied. It’s a lot of strain for this body.

cest-mellow asked: dapper do you think if you turned back time and just stabbed anti before he could take over blue it could do anything? especially when he’s sick, just a good JAB right in the heart?? i am being 100% serious.

“Yeah, try that, Dapper,” mocks Anti, pushing into his space again. “Put a dagger into my heart. Go on, do it.”

Dapper turns his head away. He won’t hurt Anti while he’s wearing Blue.

“But even if I wasn’t in this skin, could you do it then?” asks Anti. “Could you stab big brother who raised you?”

“You and I both know stab wounds can’t kill you,” snarl Dapper’s hands, his blue eyes flashing. “Nothing ever kills you.”

Anti laughs, throwing his head back. Dapper sees Blue’s molars.

“You are a clever boy,” he murmurs with a strange, hateful sort of affection, wrapping a hand gently around Dapper’s throat. “Much cleverer than you know, most of the time. Tomorrow you’ll be like a child again - or a fucking nutcase.”

Anonymous asked: You’re gonna lose them all if you aren’t careful Anti. Keep pushing them and you’ll lose all of them sooner than rather than later. -🍂

“Red and I made the rules very clear,” says Anti, his eyes seeping to black. He pushes Dapper again and his little brother takes the hint, lying carefully down on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Anti circles the bed, watching him for any sign of aggression. “One more try, we said. If I can’t tame them this time, it’s finished. I’ll set the house on fire and burn them all down. So let them break from me if they want to - either way, I’m finishing this charade we play.”

Anonymous asked: Reverse, Dapper. Roses and rowan.

“Rowan? Don’t threaten him. He’s allergic.” Anti crawls into bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard and staring down at Dapper, still at his side. “You know if you reverse I’ll see your silver eyes and I’ll beat you til you have to eat through a straw.”

Anonymous asked: Interesting fuckin philosophy there. Do buried and dead people commonly resurface like every month and try and murder you, run away, find themselves, love each other more then they've ever loved you, abandon you like you deserve, and consistently hate you in whatever fantasy land you live in Anti?

“You always all try to rile me up,” says Anti. “Sometimes you’ve succeeded, I’ll give you that. I was not created for anger management. But in the end, you are powerless spectators. Harassing me is all you can do. You know I’m in control.”

Anonymous asked: You just left Henrich there?? Anti he's so concussed he passed out and he has a major bleeding head wound what the fuck are you thinking? I wouldn't be surprised if you find him dead tomorrow, just leaving him there!

“Then Dapper can have the password and reverse,” says Anti happily, snuggling down into the covers beside him. “It’s happened before, hasn’t it, love?”

“Yes… Red bled out after you tortured him, back when I was young… sometimes you would kill him for fun, just to make me reverse it.”

“Your memory is clear right now. You are incredible, Dapper. No one else ever gets memories back after I take them.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I'd genuinely like to know, what is your plan here? I don't think you can change how they feel about you by hurting them worse, especially since that's what caused it in the first place. You can't fix the effects of what you've done by just doing it more fiercely.

“I told you I came here to get help,” says Anti. “They like to play hard to find… I suspect we might have to get their attention, haha. Worth it, though. They’re the only one who was ever any fun.”

He reaches down and tangles his fingers in Dapper’s hair, scratching warmly at his scalp. “Them and my pets, of course. You’re all naive to say violence couldn’t turn them to my side. That’s what worked in the first place. The only thing that worked. Violence and the need to belong and the conviction that I was a part of their family. The violence comes easy to me, the need to belong is created by the separation from their twins, and the conviction that I belong - well, you saw what I did to Trick is Singapore. It’s mind games, baby. I’ve got my little brother to cover my tracks if anything goes wrong. Only I got the password to this little ace in my sleeve.”

He tugs on Dapper’s hair, smiling down at him. “I’ve been lax, that’s all. I’ve been lax. I won’t be again. If someone steps a foot out of line - ”

Glurk.

Anti’s throat splits open so wide you can see his spine and he bursts into laughter, the threat written in the blood dripping down his neck.

cest-mellow asked: you can make up a story, dapper. theres rats in that white room, one got out and into the bed and anti panicked so bad and it scared you snd you turned back. no password needed.

“Wow, they really want you to,” says Anti, smiling at him. “Go on, then. Do it, Dapper. Reverse. Go back. Make up a story. As if I would ever buy that you’d be afraid of a rat instead of trying to keep it as a pet. As if the first thing I always scream when I’m scared isn’t the password to let you go back and save me. As if I didn’t just promise that the slightest slip-up in behavior - the slightest bend in the rules - would lead you to a beating.”

Dapper swallows dryly.

“I’ll kill all four of your siblings in front of you and make you watch,” whispers Anti, leaning in close, his breath warm against Blue’s ears. “I’ll take you off your medicine. I’ll feed you your fingers and make you murder Henrik with your own two - ”

Dapper goes back in t

This post was reblogged with the following addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Addition:

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Anonymous asked: blue, hen, he rewound. if you need to disguise his magic, the bathroom full of stuff will cover the scent. if you knock a few things over and make it look like an accident and get it on him, that might work. i don't know how to hide his eyes, though.

On the path that leads up to the forest, you see Anti stop short.

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

Anonymous asked: Go into the bathroom before Anti gets here. Boy that soap and bath salts and lotion sure does sound smelly and potent *coughcough*

“Fuck!” snarls Anti, stalking towards the house. “That fucking bathroom covers the smell of him, doesn’t it? I’m going to waterboard him. That little shit. He thinks he can stop me? He thinks anyone else can control me? I’ll lock him into a fucking box like I did when he was small.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, Henrik wasn't cooperating and you decided to punish him, but you hurt him really badly and Dapper panicked and rewound without thinking.

“No, he thought,” says Anti, face shifting with rage, teeth building in his mouth. “He thought because I have ingrained into him throughout the course of his entire life that he should never, never, never rewind without thinking. He just pretends. You let him fool you. He’s always thinking. Snake child… he takes after me.”

Anonymous asked: blue fell and hit his head so dapper rewound, yes

“Uh-oh,” sings Anti, smiling coldly at you. “Two conflicting stories, how strange - and I bet if I went and asked Dapper right now, he would tell me a third. It almost makes me wonder if you’re not all fucking liars.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, do you think you could distract anti? just for a little bit? blue isn’t ready to be possessed again, it’s making him so so sick and anti just won’t pay attention :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? You look pissed. Hold up, please. Blue’s not well.”

Anti blinks, pausing. “Come on, Tricky. You’re letting them manipulate you.”

Trick’s eyes water. “Look, Anti, it’s just - there’s been, like, a lot of change lately, and now I can’t be with Dok even though we were apart for like, weeks, and Blue is really seriously sick, but you’re still p-possessing him, and - you know that I don’t really like possession, it makes me feel - ”

Trick shakes his head quickly, a little green in the face. Anti tilts his head at him, alarmed, but his eyes keep looking up to the stairs. “Trick, come on, my love. You can handle this just fine. I need to go talk to Dapper.”

“It just makes me feel really scared, and I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to, don’t - can’t I have Dok, Anti, please? I hate this new plan, I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say, but - ”

“Trick,” growls Anti, but it turns into a sigh. “Fine. Have Dok for tonight. I need to go teach Dapper a lesson.”

Anonymous asked: Fine, here's the story that's the truth and it's the one he'd tell you if you got the true one. You hurt Henrik and Blue so badly that Henrik might have died locked in a room alone, bled out. You were being a stubborn asshole and refused to check up on Henrik or do anything to keep him from potentially dying. It scared your audience, scared Dapper too, so we convinced him to rewind without your permission.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. Dapper could have just waited til the morning to see if Dok was fine and rewound then if he wasn’t. Why would he just disobey me like that if he wasn’t being rebellious? He knows I’d let him rewind if anything deadly ever happened to them.”

pine-storm-season asked: Henrik, he rewound because you got badly hurt from not cooperating and he panicked and did it without thinking, as far as we could tell. Anti might be mad though.

Henrik looks up, alarmed, but a moment later only fury is flashing through his eyes.

“He does mean to torture me,” he says, voice low. “It’s true, then.”

Dapper grabs Dok’s face between his hands for a second, demanding his attention. Henrik stares back into his silver eyes, startled by the intensity he finds there.

“I know what I said,” signs Dapper rapidly, tears coursing down his cheeks. “That I didn’t want you to fight. But I was lying, Healing. I was too scared of what he would do to you. But the truth is I can’t live like this anymore! I need you to fight for me, Henrik. I need you.”

Fire lights up Henrik’s blood. He grips Dapper’s arms, staring at him, something vibrant and warm and familiar crossing through his chest. He laughs and doesn’t know why.

“For you,” says Henrik, shaking his head in astonishment. “For you, let him torture me.”

Anonymous asked: He rewound, you didn't get back in time to tell him the password. That's why he's so terrified.

“Still naughty of him. He should know better.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe this time around don't nearly murder Henrik and we won't be so rash. You claim to have control but can't control your own outbursts.

Anti stares at you dead in the eye of the camera.

“Trick,” he says. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Sit down,” repeats Anti coldly.

Trick sinks to the floor, frightened.

Anti stalks up the stairs.

Henrik turns around, standing over Dapper and Blue on the bed.

Anti takes one step forward

and Henrik straightens up, proud

and Anti shanks Henrik through the ribs.

Blue screams like he’s the one being murdered, staggering to his feet, his cry shrill enough the birds scatter. Dapper lurches forward as if he’ll be ill, clutching at his throat, closing his eyes desperately. Anti stares down at him, his eyes piercing through him.

And Henrik?

He tumbles to the ground, staining red the carpet, and he chokes as his lungs fill.

“Is this what you wanted?” shouts Anti, slapping Dapper’s face and shoving him off the bed. “Is that what you prefer, that outcome?”

Dapper sobs, burying his face in his hands and backing rapidly away from Anti, his hands clutching at the golden hilt of the knife in his pocket. He’ll kill him for this!

“And you!” snarls Anti, whirling on the camera, pointing the life-blood-stained blade up at your one black eye. “Never tell me what to do again. Never tell me what to do ag

This post was reblogged again with a third addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

First time jump

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Second time jump

Dapper is sick beside the bed, vomit dripping from his lips, his eyes a fervent silver.

Anonymous asked: Fight, but be rational Henrik. Be safe, wait for the perfect opportunity. I know you and us both can't wait to take down the evil, but caution is a must. You nearly died in the last go through.

“No!” cries Dapper, lurching up from the bed, both of his siblings rearing back in alarm, still calling worried questions at him. Over the both of them, he is signing. “No, Dok, I take it back, don’t fight, don’t - I can’t - coward, I’m a coward!”

“Dapper, what’s going on?”

“Carve, it’s okay, just take a deep breath - Carver!”

Dapper races away from them, his stomach churning.

Anonymous asked: Oh no Dapper you're sick! Better go into the bathroom and lean over the toilet. Blue, Henrik, help him there?

Tearing away from them, he is sick again in that rose bathroom, his eyes reminding him of Blue crumpled against the shower and Dok bleeding against the sink as he gags, just one more memory for no one but him to hold on to. He breathes in panicked gasps, shoving himself back to his feet and locking the door before Blue and Dok can come racing after him. He nearly collapses over the sink, washing his beard and face harshly with a soft cloth and golden milk and honey soap, crying in short bursts, his eyes red and silver. With frantic hands, he starts the bath and leans over the tub, heaving and tearing off his shirt, his heart thumping terribly in his chest.

He covers his face with his hands, sinking down over the side of the tub before he can finish stripping, whimpering in a weak exhale of air.

Anonymous asked: Dap, take deep breaths, okay? Why are you doing this?

Dapper tugs on his hair, shaking his head, too distressed to speak for a long time.

“Why? Why?” he manages finally, swiping at the rapid tears on his face. “You know time travel takes a toll on me and you saw what just happened! What do you mean, why? No matter how many times I watch them die, it never gets easier.”

He buries his face in his arms, feeling broken and useless and stupid and weak.

“I’m not a mistake-fixer, not really. I try to be, Anti wants me to be, but I’m not! I can’t make every situation that goes badly right, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t. If that’s how Dok and Blue are planning to get out of this, tell them it won’t work. I’m not strong or brave and even if I were, time travel never makes everything alright. It’s a trick. It’s a lie. It’s just a curse.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, can you keep anti downstairs for a while? blues gonna be possessed again and it’s making him really really sick. maybe you should get jackie to go upstairs to spend some time with him while he can until his time tonight is gone :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? Where were you?”

“Heya, lil man,” says Anti, tugging Trick to his chest and pressing their foreheads together. Trick grins, relieved to find him in a good mood. “What do you want, trouble-maker?”

“Anti,” grumbles Trick with a laugh. “What am I, a four-year-old?”

“You’re about six, actually.”

“Haha.”

Anti grins at him and draws away, clucking his chin. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. You and Reddy can have whatever room you want down here. Night, my watcher.”

“Anti - wait. Hey, please. Um…”

“What?”

“I think Blue’s really sick, Anti. I’m worried. Can’t Red stay with him?”

“I’m also really sick, Trick, it’s just that Blue’s keeping it under control for me. I need him right now.”

“He’s getting worse, Anti. I hate to say it, but… I think you’re being too rough with his body.”

Anti stares at Trick.

Trick shuffles on his feet, his eyes flickering around the room.

Anti sighs.

“I’ll be gentle, alright?” he says. “For you. I promise.”

“But what if that isn’t enough?”

“You’re paranoid about possession,” says Anti gently. “You always have been. It’s going to be okay. Go get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, Anti,” murmurs Trick, chewing on his lip.

“And don’t tell Red to go upstairs, alright? You and him aren’t allowed up there. I catch you up there, I’ll throw you right back down.”

“Okay.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, you’re gonna need to help your twin and dok and dapper upstairs. hes gonna kill one of them these days. dapper is in serious trouble and antis probably gonna possess blue again, make him even more sick. you saw how he was today. can you imagine the toll it’s taking on him? you have to protect him!

Red sits in the library.

He looks up at your beeping and you see his eyes.

From a distance, his gaze was dreamy, faraway, enchanted, perhaps.

From up close?

Red looks sad.

He reads your message once and he blinks. He glances up at the ceiling. For a moment, he breathes. He thinks. He grieves.

“Blue,” he says once, with feeling.

But he doesn’t move. Looks down at his hands. His hands on the pages of a book.

“Listen to this,” he says, and he reads:

It is as if everything else had slept Many an age, unforgotten and lost – The men that were, the things done, long ago, All I have thought; and but the moon and I Live yet and here stand idle over a grave

Where all is buried.

He stares down at the poem.

“I don’t really get it,” he says. “But I think Blue will like it.”

He tears the page from the book. He folds it into a paper airplane. He can’t go upstairs.

Anonymous asked: Yeah I'd say the moral of most time travel stories is "don't screw with time travel." Anti only sees you as an advantage but it's blown up in his face before, I just wish there was a way that the consequences ONLY fall on him without the rest of you getting hurt.

“If I was cleverer I could make that happen,” signs Dapper miserably, wiping at his face. “If I was all the things Jack made me to be. He was the only friend I ever managed to save.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, maybe you could leave Blue himself for just tonight? He's already weak, and the possession is making it worse. His magic doesn't like your body, so I can sort of see why you possess him, but it's making him sicker. Give him a night as himself, and it's quite possible he'll recover a bit.

“I really don’t know how to express to all of you how little I care about Blue’s recovery. I’m inclined to think that him being sick makes him easier to manage, and all I need the body for is sleeping.”

pine-storm-season asked: That's true, but there's going to be a point where he's weak enough that he's harder to manage simply because of the limits of his body. If you let him have occasional nights to recover, I don't think he'll end up getting there.

“Let me know when he gets to that point and maybe I’ll give a fuck then,” answers Anti mildly.

Anonymous asked: Time travel may be Anti's go-to fix for things he doesn't know how to deal with but it doesn't have to be yours, Dap. His over-reliance on your time travel, Blue's magic and body, and his hypnosis to twist things to his liking is going to be his downfall. Despite his efforts, memories linger and he can't hide his tracks in blood.

“I hope that’s true,” signs Dapper.

The lock clicks behind him.

He turns.

He isn’t collected enough to hide the evidence. He isn’t calm. He isn’t determined. He isn’t in control. He never seems to be. Anti sees his silver eyes before he can think to hide himself.

The monster steps forward, staring at him.

He touches JJ’s chin.

“I see you’ve learned a lesson,” says his broken, glitching voice.

Dapper turns away from him, ashamed.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Good, then,” purrs Anti, slapping lightly at his chin. “Silly boy. Stay here. Have your bath. And if you ever try anything like this again…”

He leans in close, eyes flashing. “I will - ”

“Kill all four of my siblings in front of me. Take me off my medicine. Feed me my fingers and make me kill Dok with my own two hands.”

Anti smiles.

Success.

Control.

“Good boy,” he murmurs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He goes.

Anonymous asked: Oh Dapper, JJ, buddy... You're not weak or a coward, not in the slightest. It'll be okay. I know that sounds empty, but it will be, it will. You did good, look what you've prevented now. Those deaths will only be memories, they don't exist in this here-and-now. Chin up, have a bath if you still want one. Baths make good cover-ups for other emotions, other... smells.

Dapper sniffles.

Then snorts out a laugh, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

“Other… smells,” he repeats, finding it funny despite everything, despite his whole life. He stares down at the water in exhaustion.

And Dapper does have a bath. He turns you away - he is, despite everything, a firm believer in the importance of being a gentleman - and he steps into the bath, pouring in the bubbles and the soaps, letting the smell wash across his skin, letting the blood and dust wash away.

Coward, his brain tells him.

Yes, he nods.

And when Anti goes to get Blue and Dok, and Dok raises his hackles, and Blue isn’t complying - well, Anti is gentle with Blue. He promised Trick. But when Anti hurts Dok the same way he hurt him the first time, when Dok is bleeding from the head, when Dok is calling for Trick to help him -

Well.

Dapper doesn’t do anything but sit in his bubbles and let his salt drip into the warm, rosey, coward’s bathwater.

Until, after a moment, he turns you back to him, trusting the bubbles to cover him.

“Hey,” he says, very small and very sad. You hear Henrik give one short cry of pain. “Will you come with me somewhere?”

Anonymous asked: yeah, we'll come with you. and i don't think you're a coward, dap. there are very few things you could do to help, and several of them would put you directly in danger. you're keeping yourself safe. i don't think that makes you a coward.

He breathes out a long sigh, resting his head against the back of the tub. He lets his body relax. His mind drift and search and reminisce. This is a new era, after all, and Anti is sick of uselessly wiping his memories. After all, he doesn’t know that they give Dapper any power.

He finds his clock in the pocket of his discarded pants and wraps his fingers around it. He finds the body of the camera. He touches your side.

Yeah, we’ll come with you.

Okay, he nods. Okay.

For the third time that day, Jameson goes back.

cest-mellow asked: where are we going, jamie?

In his mind, memories are like scrambled eggs.

To place them where they came from is almost impossible. His mind, he feels, has been tossed and turned and stirred into a mess of mashed-together knowledge and recollection, leaving him largely lost and often confused.

But there are moments he recalls. Sometimes. Some days. More and more often, there are moments he recalls.

He can only travel down the timeline, and to do so without splitting the delicate spiderweb of reality requires that he remember something and move towards it. And right now, he just wants to be at peace for a moment. He just wants to feel safe and not to have to see his family in pain.

He goes to the darkness of a closet.

It’s a faint memory in his mind. More than anything, what he recalls is feeling safe.

Dark clothes hung around him. Soft carpet beneath his hands. Something warm pressed to his chest and a pillow at his back. Aloneness and the crack of light through the bottom of the closet door.

The silver rush of time changing around him does not make him sick like it did Red. He is a surfer on a steady wave. When he opens his eyes again, he is in darkness, and you are beside him, and his clock gives a soft light as its silver timer begins to count down.

He sighs and closes his eyes, hugging a stuffed dog to his chest. No one screams. No one raises a hand at him. He sits in the darkness of the closet.

Anonymous asked: Yikes forever :(

He lets out a soft, tired sigh, sinking down onto the pillow and blankets beneath him. Yikes forever is right.

aether-mae asked: Where to J-spirit?

“I guess I don’t know where we are…”

He stares around the closet, blinking.

“It doesn’t feel like one of Anti’s prisons. But this was reckless of me. I probably shouldn’t have come.” He runs a hand through his hair. It’s the same length it is in the present, or at least it feels that way between his fingers.

Anonymous asked: Where are we now, Jameson? Do you know?

“I don’t know if I even want to find out,” he signs in the lowlight, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here as long as I can. Take a nap with no one touching me. With no one shouting or screaming.”

An interruption in the light beneath the door startles him. He sits up, staring at the socked feet standing in front of the door.

Someone knocks, just gentle.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

Anonymous asked: ooooh, jj, are you okay? that can't have been easy to go back again, are you safe where we are?

“I feel safe,” he says. “But sometimes that’s a lie.”

bupine asked: you ok, dap? what are you doing?

“I don’t know,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I just want everything to leave me alone. I want everything to stop.”

He’s curled down low against the blankets and pillows, hiding his face in their warmth.

“Can I come in?” asks the voice at the door, soft and careful. They sound Irish, though the accent, he thinks, isn’t quite as thick as Red’s. Maybe Blue or Trick. Or Anti, of course. It could always be Anti. “Henrik just cut his thumb, okay, he’s fine. The blood’s all gone now. You don’t have to hide in here if you don’t want to. Wouldn’t you prefer your room, buddy?”

pine-storm-season asked: Do you want to see who that is? I think they're a safe person, but we can't know for sure.

Dapper stares at the door, a shred of light making the blue of his right eye seem endless and clear, golden at the edges, like the eyes of a cat reflecting light. He watches the doorway, at war with himself. He doesn’t want to open the door and find someone who will hurt him. But he wants to be comforted, too. He would like to be comforted even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But it could be Anti. It could just be Anti, or Red to pull him by the hair back to his room, or someone he doesn’t even remember who wants to hurt him. He sits up, feeling anxious, grateful for the softness of the toy in his hand. He doesn’t care if it’s childish right now. He just wants to feel okay.

Anonymous asked: We'll be with you wherever you go, Dapper

He nods once. Right. You’re with him. Okay.

bupine asked: who's that at the door? think it's one of your brothers? i don't think it's anti, but i could be wrong. are you gonna open it?

Dapper climbs to his feet even as the figure at the door lets out a sigh. He tiptoes towards the door and feels the other still, noticing his movement on the other side, waiting patiently for Dapper to make his move. He puts his hand on the doorknob and pushes it gently open, staring out with one big blue eye.

The face looking back at him is familiar, and he’s grateful despite the fact that Anti too shares this face with him. His brother cocks his head at him, smiling real gentle at him, trying to be comforting and slow. Dapper’s glad. He feels like he could fall apart.

The room they’re in is a hectic mess. It almost makes him laugh. Clothes and papers and trash and dishes are scattered over the furniture and floor, a Switch and a DS somewhere in the mix and a row of nice caps lined up on the top of one drawer. One wall is lined in baby and toddler pictures of a pair of small, dark-haired kids JJ doesn’t recognize. Someone’s kicked off their Converse by the door.

Dapper smiles and looks back at the person who’s come to get him. His hair is short at the sides and fluffy on the top. He wears a black hood and colorful shorts. He doesn’t remember exactly what all of his siblings used to look like - this person seems so much younger even if only a few years separate this moment from the present - but between his appearance and this room, Dapper thinks he must know who this is. Trick.

No… that wasn’t his name.

It was something different, he doesn’t… he doesn’t quite recall.

“There’s my guy,” says not-Trick fondly, smiling at him. “Doing okay, tough stuff?”

Dapper can’t help the small smile on his face. He rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval at being teased, and not-Trick chuckles, stepping back from the door to let him step out.

Anonymous asked: I think I have a hunch on who the person behind the door is, but I really hope i'm wrong

Dapper’s eyes flicker with fear. He turns to glance at you, confused.

“What have you got there?” asks not-Trick. “Camera?”

Dapper shrugs, not sure how to explain. He stares up at his brother, trying to remember his name, chewing on his lip.

“Still nervous?” he asks gently.

Dapper can’t help but nod. He is. He really is. All the time, he feels like. He just wants… he just wants…

He holds out his arms uncertainly. His brother smiles and, without hesitation, moves forward to pull him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him, letting him bury his face in his shoulder.

“I’m really glad you’re here, JJ,” he says. “You know that, don’t you? We all are.”

JJ whimpers and curls his fingers into the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck.

bupine asked: i think that might be chase, if you need to remember his name. be careful, dap.

Chase, that’s it, Chase. He likes the sound of it. He turns his face into his neck and makes his best approximation of the name, hissing air from between his teeth. “Ayy-sssss.”

“Ssssh,” answers his brother, chuckling. “That’s right, that’s me.”

cest-mellow asked: chase, i think you call him c- happy? that’s his name. and he loves you very, very much.

Dapper grins. Stop that, that’s sappy. But it makes him really glad. He hugs him tighter and makes him laugh.

“Okay, little man?” he asks.

“Okay, yeah.”

“You are tough stuff, wasn’t joking. Is there anything you need?”

He shrugs, looking around. He doesn’t know. Maybe to see the others? If they’re here? If they’re safe? If they’re not having their heads beaten in against the counter of the sink?

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing JJ’s back. “Stay with me, Jay. It’s okay.”

pine-storm-season asked: His name is Chase, Jameson. Do you remember more about him now?

Hmm. He glances around.

Certainly he thinks this room is familiar, now that he sees it. He thinks the babies are Chase’s babies, but he doesn’t remember them, not even a flash of their memory. It hurts his chest. The room is messy and loud and enthusiastic in its own way. He thinks that’s things that Chase used to be. But Trickshot - though he’s happier these days than he has been in some time - is often quiet and nervous and bitter, keeping everything arranged in his nests, close at hand, protected. He doesn’t have the wildness he used to have. Dapper stares down at the ground, curling his fingers through Chase’s hair, wishing he could hold on to the memory of him forever.

cest-mellow asked: is anyone else in this place with you? are you in a house?

“Are the others here?” asks Dapper.

He squints his eyes up apologetically, tilting his head as he tries to think. “Ah, sorry, man, you know I’m still so slow with sign.”

Dapper doesn’t mind. He’s here and he’s learning, so that’s all that matters. He takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

In this hallway, there are two more doors, a closed one across from Chase’s room and a bathroom at the end of the hall. On the other side, stairs. Dapper lets his feet rub against the soft carpet, pleased to see that his past self has picked out a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts with flamingos patterned all over them instead of something formal and uncomfortable. Fun but not too childish. Comfortable but not humiliating. It’s nice.

He moves down the stairs with an optimistic timidity, peeking his head out before he lets his body appear. His brother follows patiently behind him, letting him go at his own pace.

He can hear, in the kitchen, a pair of his siblings arguing cheerfully, teasing each other and clanking dishes as they wash them in the sink. The dining room smells of curry powder and the living room is coated in the gold light of the setting sun. A fluffy white cat is kneading her claws into a grey one. She meows when she sees them, leaping off the couch to come and wrap herself around them, purring at their legs.

Now there’s no doubt that the person next to him is not Anti. Dapper lets out a low sigh, feeling warm and content, and closes his eyes.

Anonymous asked: Can you ask to see the others JJ? Would that follow the timeline properly?

Yes, he wants to see the others. He moves into the kitchen, finding two siblings standing together at the sink, washing and drying together.

“Hellooo,” calls Blue. “Everybody feeling okay?”

Not Blue. Marvin. Dapper feels his face light up in a smile.

He looks so happy.

His hair is long and clean and lovely, tied up neatly on the back of his head, and his face is full of health and self-satisfaction. He hands the last pan to his brother and steps towards them, smiling, a cover-up with elephants printed on the thin fabric flickering in the wind from the open back door. Outside, Jameson sees a forest - but this one is not like the one he came from. Instead of pines, deciduous oak and willow and birch. JJ feels the wind in his hair.

“I think we’re doing okay.” Jameson feels him squeeze his hand. “Right, JJ?”

JJ nods, letting Marvin come closer, smiling at him.

“Good!” Marvin chirps. “But you have something behind your ear.”

He reaches beside Jameson’s hand. When he pulls away again, he is holding a big yellow rose. JJ grins shyly and takes it from him, and Marvin, his eyes glowing blue, presses a kiss into his cheek.

“Love you, James.”

“Love you,” he answers gently, patting Marvin’s hand.

“Chase, your room’s a fucking mess, by the way,” says the person holding his other hand.

JJ stops short, alarmed, turning to him.

“It’s organized chaos!” protests the person at the sink, turning to him. He has short hair too, but he wears a backwards hat and his wrists are covered in bracelets, gauges pinned into his ears. “I know where everything in there is, it’s just… everywhere.”

The person at his side laughs. Dapper supposes it must be Jackie. He relaxes again, drifting against his side, enjoying the sound of his laughter. It’s good to see Red and Trick get along. Usually, in his experience, they are enemies.

Anonymous asked: Oh thank god my hunch was wrong, that's a relief. Anyway, whatcha gonna do now Dap? Stay with Chase for some more time?

“I want to see H-healing,” says JJ, looking around at his siblings.

“He’s okay, buddy,” promises Chase, drying off the last dish and placing it in the rack. “He just cut his finger. But I bet he wouldn’t mind a visit from you.”

“Here, I’ll take you upstairs,” promises the brother holding his hand. “And we can go check on him. He should be hanging out instead of working in his room anyway, huh?”

Yeah. Dapper nods, letting himself be lead back towards the stairs. As you go, you see a familiar hallway on the ground floor - a door with newspaper clippings and pictures and notes plastered all over it, and beyond that, the room where Red and Marvin talked. Chances are you recall the sight better than Dapper does.

Anonymous asked: Oh, they all look so happy and healthy... So this was your family? This seems like the dream life. I'm even more impassioned to help you get them back in any way we can, JJ. You all deserve health and love and light again.

“This,” he says, looking around, looking back at his family, looking at the house and the forest and the cats and the sun. He takes his hand back to speak. “This… this isn’t something that I can have again.”

He holds the rose Marvin gave him carefully, petting at the flowers for a moment before sticking it into his pocket, his face downcast.

“Even if I can get them back, we won’t be the same.”

He closes his eyes for a second, moving towards Henrik’s room.

“Max thought I was hopeless,” he says. “But these days, I can’t tell the difference between that and realism. The truth is, this isn’t my family anymore. Most of us aren’t family at all. The twins love each other. That’s what remains of us. The love between them and, every now and then, in small ways, the recollections between the rest of us - the ghosts of what it was to love each other for who we were at this moment in time, and the disappointment that follows when we realize we are no longer the people that we once were, and that that love did not survive the change.

“But for this moment… for this moment, I can have it again. It’s alive inside of me. For a moment. For a moment. It’s alive.”

darkiplurrr asked: *hugs Dapper* You’re doing great and we’re proud of you!

“Thank you,” he chuckles, smiling. “That’s very nice whether or not it’s true. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: Where are you taking us JJ? A memory? And... do you think Henrik will be okay?

“I… don’t know that H-healing will be okay in the future. I don’t know. I think, perhaps, he will not be. But for now…”

“Here, bud,” says his friend, following him up the stairs to knock on Henrik’s door.

“Come in,” answers a voice, unpained and unafraid, calm and safe.

For now he can be okay.

Dapper pushes open the door and Henrik smiles back at him from the bed, putting aside his laptop to see him. “Hey, Jamie. Is everything - ”

JJ leaps into his arms and tackles him back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Henrik yelps and then laughs, hugging him with one arm and pinching him in protest with the other.

“Little terror!” he snipes, digging his fingers into his side, and Dapper squirms from being tickled. “I am under attack.”

“Yes, you are stuck,” Dapper pauses to sign before wrapping his arms around his neck again.

“I’m okay,” murmurs Henrik after a moment, rubbing gently at his back. “You know that, right? We’re safe here. You and me are safe.”

JJ feels tears welling in his eyes. To think that they all used to feel safe.

“It’s not fair, H,” he says, pulling back. “I just want to keep all of you safe. But I don’t know if you even know that. And the truth is I still love him too no matter what he does to me. I don’t know why. I’m a coward.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going too fast for me. James?”

He sighs and buries himself in Henrik’s shirt. He just wants to stay here.

“I’m sorry, H.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Sorry, but you're wrong Dap. Love did survive it. You saw how hard Henrik fought for Blue not to be possessed. You saw Red care for you, fight for you, be happy and loved as himself for those days with Max. We saw the love still alive between Trick and Blue while you all were separated, even though they're not "twins". It's still there, in familiar and different ways. It's still inside all of you.

Dapper sighs, stroking his fingers through Henrik’s beard. His brother stares back at him, worried. It isn’t so different from sitting on the bed with Blue while Dok paces, trying to find ways to protect him.

Maybe pieces. Maybe pieces are still there.

Anonymous asked: Time changes people. Trauma changes people. It can't be easily reversed if it can be reversed at all. But time can heal, even if it's only a little. The family around you now is just a memory but recovering just a fraction of who they were will be worth it. It's hard to move forward when you don't know if things will be okay but you'll accomplish a lot more moving forward than going back. Even if things are never returned to normal, it's still worth more than what Anti has tried to reduce you to

Henrik’s bed is warm and comfortable. Henrik’s body is steady beside him, his hands gentle on his own body. And he feels safe and well and alright, and Henrik is here, and Henrik is okay, and Henrik loves him.

Things have changed, yes. But maybe… maybe with the bits and pieces that remained, the bits and pieces that have been strong enough to survive torture and amnesia and separation, the bits and pieces that have been stronger even than Anti and his hatred - maybe they can be the foundation to rebuild.

JJ stares at Henrik. Dapper stares at Henrik. The longing in his chest has not gone quiet - the longing not for death, as he thought it was, but for happier times to come. The longing that he mistook for suicidality. He never wanted to die. He just wanted to hope again. Just a little. Just enough.

For a moment, that longing is content.

Anonymous asked: You're right, Jay, you all can't go back to this. But you are where you are now, loved and with family, and you can enjoy that. And given time, with the brothers of your own time and all the friends you still have, you'll be able to move forward. But for now, you're here, and you can focus on that. Here you are. :)

“Want to just lie with me a while?” asks Henrik.

He can just be here. He can just be here for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” murmurs Henrik, stroking his hand across his hair once before turning back to the door, smiling at the figure still standing there. “You heading out soon?”

“If you’ve got everything covered,” he answers warmly, smiling at the both of them.

“You look tired.”

“Mh, a little. I’m okay.” He shrugs and stretches out his arms, digging his knuckles slightly into his eyes.

Dapper jolts, sitting up straight.

The man stares back at him, frowning.

“You okay, Jameson?”

On his left arm, a neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo JJ does not remember.

A neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo Jackie does not have.

This isn’t his brother.

Anonymous asked: Jamie, we think that might be Jack, the creator. But don't panic, it's okay. He's nice right now.

What does he say to him?

What does he do?

He remembers -

He remembers -

Anti moving towards him.

“Leave them the fuck alone! You give them back to me now or I’m going to make you regret I ever fucking created you!”

He remembers -

Blood on his face and a fierce scream of rage, his right eye neon green, the iris glowing like Marvin’s used to, the left iris silver and ringed in pure black. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green, mismatched, unnatural, supernatural, changing, constantly, as fast as Anti’s can.

“You can’t kill me, Anti, not in any way that means anything.”

He remembers -

Shaking in the corner, that fucking rope around his throat, his hands bound, his mind storming and his brain unmedicated, hallucinating and delusional and so confused and afraid he thought it might kill him. He knew it would kill him if he didn’t act.

But Anti told him no!

He remembers something breaking inside of him.

He remember the snap.

And then -

Blankness in his eyes, just for a moment.

Horror in his eyes.

“Jamie, what did you do?”

Jameson is tearing himself off of Henrik’s bed almost without realizing it, his breaths panting from his mouth, his heart racing in his chest.

“I didn’t mean to!” scream his hands. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to make you forget!”

“JJ! Stop! Calm down, man, calm down. It’s okay!”

“I was scared that he would hurt you! That was all! That was all!”

He catches Jameson’s hands and pulls them to his chest. They are left staring at each other, twin confusion in their eyes, twin distress.

“Jack.” He pulls against his grip to sign it. “Jack.”

“Jamie.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Jamie, I’m here.”

Jack holds his head between his hands and draws him close, and their foreheads fall together, and Jameson is known in the gaze of the man who created him.

cest-mellow asked: how much time do you have left here, jameson?

He grips his clock in a shaking hand, blinking his eyes rapidly.

The countdown is continuing. He has twenty, maybe fifteen minutes left.

But he can’t use them. This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “You don’t know how much. I broke everything and now you’re not here to help my brothers get free.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” says Jack, and if Jameson didn’t know better, he would think for a second that his friend’s eyes were silver instead of blue. “And I will make it better.”

“I have to go.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I will fix it for you. I am always going to be there to fix it if you need me.”

“That’s not true! It’s not your fault but that’s not true. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: It's okay, Jameson. You're safe. I don't know what you're remembering, but you're safe.

“No one’s here but you and me,” says Jack. “You and me and the others. You’re okay and I will keep it that way.”

Jameson huffs out a breath, closing his eyes.

“I would tell you not to blame yourself,” he says. “But the truth is, you won’t even remember who I am to feel guilt for me.”

He stops the time on his stopwatch and lets the silver river devour him whole again, whisking him back to the present. And that - that’s the end of it. He’s gone. That’s it.

Or it should be.

But in the river beside him, in the crashing waves of his power, in the screaming of the storm, there is still someone beside him, his eyes glowing twin silver.

“Listen to me!” Jack shouts, standing steadier even than Jameson in the belly of the storm, the wind whipping his hair. “Listen! You are exactly what I created you to be! Do you understand?”

Jameson crashes to the ground, stunned, gritting his eyes against his own power.

“You are all what I created you to be! Don’t let anyone try to take that from you because it will always, always, always be true, Jameson!”

“It’s not enough!” Jameson signs back desperately, not even sure if he can see, not even sure if he can understand, not even sure if he’s here at all. It’s impossible, isn’t it? Impossible that he can see him through time, impossible that someone else can move through this place the way he can. Impossible that someone else understands what is to hold power like this. “It’s not enough to be what you made me to be! I’m not enough!”

“You are worthwhile all on your own,” answers Jack, fierce as the sky around them. “But if you are in trouble and I am not there, I didn’t make any of you to fight alone. Be enough together. I’m not perfect, Jay, but I promise you - I did everything I could to make the five of you into enough to be safe from him. To give you the weapons and the story to be safe from him, even if it gets derailed sometimes. I meant you all for happy endings, JJ. Trust your brothers. Trust yourself. You are exactly what I created you to be! And you are always, always, always my - ”

Jameson sits up straight in the rose-scented bathwater, gasping for air.

Jack is gone.

The bathroom is silent.

He sits up straight in the bath, staring at the wall, his mouth open in shock. The last ray of sunset turns one eye clear and gold and endless. As though he can see another world in front of him.

I meant you all for happy endings, JJ.

He puts a hand over his heart. He can feel it beating fast. He can feel himself alive.

cest-mellow asked: are you okay james? what are you gonna do now?

“I… I…”

The bathroom door slams open.

Anti stands there staring at him.

Eyes huge. Chest heaving.

When he speaks, his voice is a shattered whisper.

“I heard someone,” he says. “I heard someone talking.”

JJ stares at him, panting. He shakes his head slowly.

“I heard someone!” repeats Anti, a little louder. His hand rises, falters, rests over Blue’s heart. “I heard… I heard…”

The water laps softly at JJ’s body, gone lukewarm. The lights buzz quietly and the crickets sing. The dark shape of a bird flickers past the window and Anti shudders, backing away, shaking his head.

“I thought I heard…”

“It’s just me, Anti,” says Dapper. “It’s just me in the bath.”

Anti closes his eyes, shaking his head. He puts a hand over his eyes for a moment and lets out a long, trembling breath.

“Come to bed,” he says. “Five minutes. I need to lie down. Blue’s mind plays tricks on me and I’m tired.”

“Okay, Anti. I’m coming.”

“Good,” says Anti, glancing at him as he turns to leave. “Yes, good, just… come quickly.”

“Okay.”

He leaves him alone with you. There is water lapping, and crickets singing, and the flicker of a bird.

JJ turns you away and climbs out of the bathtub.

Anonymous asked: What did you hear Anti?

“Nothing,” he spits at you, whirling on you with bright blue eyes. “Nothing, just… it was nothing.”

The door to the bathroom pushes open and Dapper steps out, looking small and sweet in his big dinosaur hoodie. Anti relaxes a little, sitting on the bed and waiting for him. “Come here,” he beckons, snapping his fingers at him. “Come on, bedtime. Geez, you smell like shampoo. Don’t use so much of those scented things next time.”

“Can’t help it, Anti. That whole bathroom smells like nice stuff.”

“Just lie down,” says Anti, tugging him towards him.

Anti finds a comfortable position and lets out a long sigh, wrapped around his little brother’s body.

“Your heart’s beating fast,” he mumbles.

Dapper doesn’t answer. They fall back to silence.

It’s dark by the time Anti speaks again.

“Do you ever think this isn’t what we were meant to be doing?”

Dapper stares at the ceiling, not sure what to say.

“Maybe I was supposed to die that night Marvin and Jackie beat me down to a wisp of a spirit and took you from me. Maybe that was supposed to be it.”

Dapper doesn’t know. Dapper doesn’t remember.

“Do you remember when it was just the two of us?” whispers Anti, lying close to him on the pillows. His hands are around his waist. “Do you ever think about it?”

Dapper looks over at him.

“Sometimes,” he signs meekly.

“Hm.” Anti rubs at his sides mindlessly, his eyes distant. “It was a different time.”

“It was a different story.”

“Yes,” says Anti. “I guess it was. This is a better one, isn’t it, my brother? All six of us together?”

Dapper doesn’t know what to say.

Anti does not seem to expect an answer.

“But sometimes I think about when it was just the two of us,” murmurs Anti. “Sometimes I think about that.”

Dapper feels something in the pocket of his hoodie. He blinks and reaches down for it, trying not to disturb his brother, and pulls it out. In his hands, a single yellow rose.

Dapper looks over at Anti. Anti is asleep.

[eunsthings]

Museums

Part 3 I Questions?

Part 2 II Series masterlist II Part 4

Back in your class. the professor in front of you was talking about parasites. The last lecture for the day had passed with a series of slides filled with “fascinating” illustrations. With your back hurting, you subtly stretch your body; careful not to draw unnecessary attention. It was a long day, yet it was only two in the afternoon.  

“Thank goodness I have time to relax,” your lazy self has emerged once again.  

The click of your dorm door and the welcoming presence of your bed was the greatest feeling ever. Painfully switching your attention, you prepare for a quick shower. You took your phone to put on your bed, took some clothes to change into afterwards, then proceeded to head to your floor’s communal bathroom.  

As the water was pouring down on you, thoughts invaded your head. It had been the other day that you were hired for a huge job. They still haven’t reached back out yet and you aren’t able to do anything regarding the job since you had no idea what to do. They… or Tsukishima rather, hadn’t contacted you despite saying he will­—within a day or two. It had almost been 48 hours.  

“Why am I such an over-thinker?”  

You recover and assure yourself that it was all fine. It’s out of your control anyway. They can message you anytime. After all, you had given him your number.  

Finished, you dry yourself up and change into your fresh clothes before heading out and back to your room.  

You're greeted by the presence of your roommate sitting on your bed—the bottom bunk.  

“Hey,” you called out to her.  

“Hello,” she replied, eyes not meeting yours, still occupied with her phone.  

Holding your used clothes, you proceeded to fold them and put them away to be washed along with your week-old towel. Now your self-relaxation can begin… but where was your phone?

Lazing around would not be complete without it, you needed to scroll through YouTube comments while watching a video.  

“Wait just a minute-,” you face your roomie. “Isabella…”  

Whilst sitting on your bed, she gave you a cheeky expression; caught scrolling through your phone. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. It was just sitting there.”  

“How did you even know the password?” A kind of annoyed amazement washed over you. You had nothing to hide anyway so there was no major problem.  

“In case you forgot, I live up–” she gestured to the top bunk, “–there.”  

“Dumb. Dumb as hell,” You had been careless. She could peek from above.  

“Anyway… Who is this guy?” Her tone was teasing with a mischievous face to go along with it. It made you worried.  

“What guy–” Oh no. It can’t be. Can it?  You grabbed your phone from her and saw why the idiot was smirking. It was a message from Tsukishima.  

     The message was straight to the point and yet your blockhead roommate still kept giving you knowing looks. She didn’t even know the reason for the message. She was jumping leaps and bounds to conclusions. This, you felt, was not going to go away anytime soon.  

“I was hired for another job”  

“Yeah, yeah. Sure~” She got up from your bed and languidly went for her desk. “Just don’t mind me, I’ll be studying here...” She dramatically gestures to her small workspace.  Facing her, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed yet wanting to take that grin off her face.  

On your bed, you go back to the message. “On Wednesday.” It is a few days from now.

Checking your schedule, you were free on that day and the morning after. The timing though. Well, it wasn’t as if you were complaining, in fact, it was very good news. One less problem for you.  

You replied to Tsukishima then. The anxiety was eating you. A simple reply yet so many ways to screw up.  

“WHAT. DID I SEND?! Did he really leave me on ‘read’? Anyway~” So that is done. Now to relax. No need for self-criticism.  

On Wednesday, nine on the dot, you arrived in front of the museum.  

Draped around your neck, you show your loaned ID to the guard and pass through on to the building. Inside, some big boxes and various pieces have been placed on the hallway’s floor.

That must be for the event... wow they are already starting this early on. It again dawned on you how big of an event it is; starting to make preparations this early on. The pressure was beginning to feel real.  

“Hello.”  

“Oh, that voice again” you turn around to greet him but you didn’t get the chance to.  

“(L/N), this is Kazumi Keiko, my fellow intern,” he gestured to the lady beside him. Looking up at her, she seemed friendly, motherly almost; her long hair tied back and with freckles on her face. Although you take it, she was older than you and Tsukishima.

“Hello, nice to meet you Kazumi,” you reply although softly. She smiles a warm smile at you.  

“So now we're just waiting for Kazumi’s partner, Ike--- never mind she’s here”

“Hey guyssss!” A female about your age was waving behind the glass doors. Kazumi was gesturing with her hand beckoning the girl to enter. “How come she gets to be partners with Kazumi and I’m with the boy Tsukishima? This will just be utter awkwardness from me I bet,” you try to see the reasoning why it couldn’t have been you partnered with Kazumi.

“Hey, I’m Ikeda, Satsuki,” she was very direct, it caught you off-guard.

“Hi. I’m (L/N), (F/N).”

 “Wow, nice name! It’s foreign, I like it. Do you want a Snickers?” Glancing down, she had in her hand a Snickers bar being handed out to you. “Uh, no, no, I’m fine. You--” you got caught off by Kazumi. “(L/N), you better just take that or we’ll be stuck here a long time.”

“Oh ok, sure. Thank you, Ikeda,” you take the Snickers bar from her hand giving her a tight but genuine smile. She returned the gesture. From what you observed, she has a pretty happy-go-lucky character and you realize why Ikeda might be partnered with Kazumi; it was to manage Ikeda, Satsuki.

Tsukishima continued, “So for today Mr. Yasuhiro instructed us all to divide the work and just find a plan around it...”

That meeting ended about 15 minutes ago.  Now, you’re walking the streets of Sendai, side-by-side, with the tall man of partner for work. How did it come to this...?

The central matter you discussed was how the work was going to be divided. You and Tsukishima were to handle the main big projection for the event while Team Kazumi will handle multiple small displays around the museum. You didn’t get into too much detail but for now that was it. The details were to be discussed by the pair. Great... By the time your gathering finished it was past noon; late lunch.

“There’s still the rest of the day so I’m bringing Ikeda with me to lunch. We’ll be talking about ‘this’ after.” Kazumi was definitely wasting no time. “How about you guys?” She faced Tsukishima.

Oh no...

“Uh...” he glanced at you. Oh no. No, no. “You don’t have anything to do this afternoon right?”

I have no escape from this. “Yeah, my whole day is free”

“Well, I guess we could all get lunch.” He asked Kazumi now, “Where are you guys going?”

“A Western inspired cafe just a walking distance from here, it just opened so I wanna try it out”

Tsukishima took his coat and bag then went for the door. “Let’s go then.”  

“Wait... I still have to buy some things along the way, I want Kazumi to come with me. Can you two go ahead and reserve seats for us?” Ikeda protested, as childish as ever.

Kei halted, “Uh, yeah sure. I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

Not a problem... right.

“(L/N), are you fine with this?” The ever-motherly Kazumi made sure to check up on you.

Without any excuse whatsoever, “Yes, I’m ok with anything guys.” Darn it. Social Interaction.

“Ehem...” After a rather long walk of silence. Tsukishima cleared his throat. “Are you fine there?”

“Hmm...” You glance up at him; not expecting any talk. “Oh yeah, I’m fine here. You?”

“Uh-huh. Same here”

Awkward...but still you continue to walk side-by-side.

“You know, I’m not really a talkative person,” Tsukishima started again, “but Mr. Yasuhiro told me to ‘make an effort’ because you ‘tend to be shy,’” oh, is that how this guy sees me too? Ouch.

“I get what he means but...” he side-glanced to see you, it made your eyes meet his for a small while, “…some people prefer not talking at all and some are uncomfortable doing so. In short... I’m asking you if you would be comfortable with me trying to talk to you...”

Ohhhh... man, this guy is considerate. What a nice person.

“Yes, yeah. I’m really fine with people talking to me first. I just don’t really like to initiate a conversation plus I don’t want to be a nuisance to them... and like you said, I ‘tend to be shy.’”

“So, are you fine if I ask you questions?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” You really felt delighted; a person actually respected that not all people are the same in terms of talkativeness. It’s not every day you meet someone like that.

Unbeknownst to you, it was Tsukishima’s goal in earnest to make you comfortable around him; to the best of his ability.  You do have to work on a project together after all.

A few moments of walking and you both arrived in the café. True to her word, what Kazumi said by “western inspired” actually really means an absolutely western café.

Tsukishima, the unexpected gentleman, opened the door for you as you both entered. You give him a smile in thanks; he returned a small smile too.  

Looking around, it seems like rush-hour has passed and the café is almost empty. That means you don’t have to worry about reserving seats for Kazumi and Ikeda, then.  

“Would you prefer seats by, or away from the window?”

You imagined eating by the window as others pass by... “I think away from the window”

“Same here.” He then led you to a table for 4 by the wall. He breezily pulled a chair and motioned for you to sit on it as if it were no big deal.  

Oh my. This is kind of flustering.

Tsukishima received a text from Kazumi saying that they’ll be late and to order and eat ahead of them; and so, you both did. A waitress handed you menus then left the both of you to choose your orders. He ordered smoked salmon while you went with lasagna. For dessert he asked you what you wanted but you’d told him you’ll have bobba instead; he got a strawberry shortcake.

“So, while waiting for our food, and Kuzumi, I do have to bring back the fact that we're going to be working together on this project and we barely know each other. So...” across from you, he gives you a “you get where I’m headed with this” look on his face.

You nodded. “Mhmm”  

“Right, should we ask each other questions?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the easiest way.”

“Ok, I’ll go first. You’re in university, right? What are you studying?”

“Oh, I’m a veterinary student”

“Oh, wow. That’s very impressive.” You responded with a smile and small chuckle, “Oh, no... not really.”

It was your turn. “If I recall correctly, you are in the museum as an intern. What are you doing if you’re not there?”

“Well, aside from attending school, I also have volleyball to face but that’s all.”  

Confused with his vague answer, “Volleyball?”

“Hm... uh,” for the first time ever since you met him, the usually stoic guy looked... bashful. “I play for V.League Division 2,” he looks unsure if you knew what it was and made an attempt to explain it. But when he saw your eyes wide with amazement, he stopped fidgeting with his hands. “I’m taking it that you know what that is...”

You didn’t really dabble too much in sports, volleyball was no exception. Sure, you watched an anime about volleyball; got addicted, and friends mention volleyball from time-to-time too, all that was enough to know what V.League meant. “Now that’s impressive.”

He grinned. “Heh. Well, I don’t really know about that…but now it’s my turn to ask. How did you get into animating?”

“Oh,” you let out a heartfelt laugh, caught unaware of the question.

Hearing it, Kei couldn't help but suppress his blissful smile.

“I always liked animating but it was a friend who forced me to actually do something about it,” remembering your laziness and your pestering friend was a goofy memory but a treasured one.

“Is this the same friend that left you in the museum?”

Joy came over you and you chuckled again, “how did you even remember that?”

“I mean, that was just a few days ago and who can forget someone who got left behind by a friend?”

“She isn’t bad, she just had to hurry out. I swear, she’s a reliable person most times.”

You haven’t noticed it but Tsukishima's goal was slowly realized as the air of awkwardness and tension gave out. You were too giddy to realize anything; you felt weirdly safe and became chattier.

In front of you, Tsukishima looked to be amused; a rare smile plastered on his face. “I had a somewhat same experience back in high school,” again, he sported a surprisingly charming smile on his face.

Curiosity overtook as you continued to prod, “what happened in high school?”  

“Well, simply put, I wasn’t overly fond of volleyball then. A lot of people paved the way to make me love it. In a way, I relate."  

“Wow, your friends were really good for doing that.”

“Hahaha.. yeah. I was kind of forced the first time around,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s your turn to question.”

“Oh, right.” Attention span of a goldfish. “What position do you play?”

“I... Am a middle blocker”

“Well, that’s fitting to say the least. Is it fun playing your position?"

“Yes. I find it fun especially seeing anguished faces across the net after a good block.” You cracked a smile at that, he didn’t seem to be the type to find fun in that manner.

 “My turn to ask. Are you comfortable talking to me now?” Upon asking that, he faced you with genuine concern, you didn’t even realize you were talking to him casually and without uneasiness.

“Yeah, I think so.” You finish it with a smile.

He flashed a quick smirk in response. For he, after a lengthy while, has finally made progress with the person in front of him.

Part 2 II Series masterlist II Part 4

Notes:

Y/N doesn’t really use Tsukki’s name in her head’s dialogue cause she’s still uneasy🤕

and yes we use messenger... pls don’t mind 🥺

guys this is a veryyy slow burn i hope you guys stickkkk around☺️

it’s been a very long time since the last. but better late right??😅😅

𝑨𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒐. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!!! ^-^

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈♡

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