#there’s a whole lot of triggers here I’m so sorry this is the summarization of it though

[whumpyourdamnpears]

What's your saddest scene?

It’s hard to pick one, honestly. I think most of them have to do with a relatively minor character of mine, Katie. I’ll put a cut for spoilers, but when I’m ready to release the story you probably won’t remember this post, so it might be unnecessary:

Katie is the mother of Sarah, one of my characters who starts off as somewhat of a side character, but an important side character none-the-less. For all of Sarah’s life, she’s been led to believe that her mother and father shared a loving, idealistic marriage, which came to a tragic end when she died in childbirth. The sad part is none of that is true. Katie and Sarah’s father weren’t “married,” he abducted Katie when she was eighteen and held her captive for the next 5-6 years. The two of them had Sarah, and then Katie ended up dying when Sarah was about four or five during a failed escape attempt.

Maybe I’ll pick Katie’s death scene as one of the saddest scenes I’ve conceptualized, because there’s so much going on with it that ends up layer onto layer on the sad cake. The fact that all her years of planning resulted in nothing. The fact that it was her young daughter that ended up giving her away because she didn’t know any better, she thought her and mommy were playing a game and that daddy would want to play it, too. That it’s left unclear whether or not her “husband” killed her in a fit of rage or if it was truly an accident. That while Katie’s dying she’s begging to see her daughter, which she’s not allowed to do, because it’d just scare her and she wouldn’t know what was going on. And then the fact that Sarah never remembers what it was like having a mother, or how much she fought to bring her home

I hate when characters who deserve happy endings don’t get them. It’s kind of a squick of mine. But in order for the story to even happen, she needed to die. It was unavoidable. Any part of her story or what her legacy leaves behind reduces me to tears, especially when her daughter finally gets to meet her family and Katie’s family are trying to navigate how to have a relationship with a woman who has never met them, but looks so much like the little girl they lost

[fabdante]

Not to keep on with this but right so I made a post about Vergil and Bernini  and in that post I mentioned what art works and pieces I think represent the other parts of the DmC trio, Kat and Dante. And I just wanted to follow up on that with more focused posts because yall have no idea, I’m very into this whole thing.

First up: Dante

So Dante I go into a good deal in the Baroque essay already so some of this is a rehashing but I just wanted to go more in depth about Dante and Caravaggio’s Davids. 

(David and Goliath, 1599)

(David with the Head of Goliath, 1607)

(David with the Head of Goliath, 1610)

More about Dante, Caravaggio, and especially that last David under the cut! This one got a little long.

Ok so first things first, like discussed in the Baroque essay, Dante is Baroque and the game is based around Caravaggio’s Baroque to a point where many of his paintings are directly referenced. That last David in particular is referenced directly in the game. See below:

so I’m not really saying anything the game hasn’t really done itself here. Dante is the main character, he is represented by Baroque and Caravaggio. That’s his vibe, that’s the parallel. And it’s a very intentional one I mean in Talexi’s art book he discusses picking Caravaggio as an influence and the overlap between Dante’s whole deal and Caravaggio’s own. But I’m like really into Caravaggio’s David’s and want to talk about that and the neat way this plays with Dante’s whole deal so, let’s do it.

To quickly summarize Caravaggio and the background of his last David: Caravaggio was an angry guy who worked in Rome during the Baroque period until he killed a guy for Reasons (probably a bet, possibly a woman, possibly a tennis match or something, probably the bet). He gets kicked out of Rome, does some stuff (joins a knighthood? at some point then leaves the knighthood?), gets word that the pope wants to pardon him. He goes back to Rome with some art but dies on the way at the ripe age of 38. One of the paintings with him that makes it on this trip is the last David. 

What I like about Caravaggio’s David’s is how different they are then other David’s that come up in the art history canon. Just for comparison I’ll share the famous David but also Bernini’s David from the same time period.

(The David, Michelangelo)

(David, Benini. Pain to get a photo of s2g)

The first key difference is I mean, all three of Caravaggio’s David’s are wearing clothes which I think is neat in that I imagine he would be wearing those given the situation. But beyond that, what strikes me about Caravaggio’s David’s is their youth. In the biblical story, David is more the age Caravaggio consistently depicts him at. Which is about approximately preteen or teenage. The second thing that strikes me is the confidence and power displayed in Bernini and Michelangelo’s David’s evoke. But Caravaggio’s are not confident, not the way these one’s are. And especially that last one. 

Caravaggio’s David is unsure. He’s just done this thing, killed this man, but he doesn’t seem to have quite processed it in the first two. But in the third, he is processing it. And he’s not processing it well. This is a David who is unsure. This is a David who seems to pity the man who’s head he now holds by the hair. This is a David who is not strong and unwavering and confident and elegant, this is a child who just killed a man. This echo’s in the games interpretation of the scene, that same worry echoing in Dante’s brow that’s in Caravaggio’s. It’s a sympathetic David in that he seems to be unsure if this choice was worth the personal toll but also in the sense that the viewer is sympathetic to him, they feel bad for this child who has just been forced to make this choice. 

Reboot Dante’s life is not one about choice, it’s not really something he seems to be able to do often. Sparda put him into the orphanage and the orphanage put Dante into the foster care system. And ever since then Dante has had to fight. Not by choice, but by necessity. It show’s in his combat style, in his clearly untrained movements focused on power and strength rather then tactics. Vergil, if you watch him fight, he’s much more elegant, his style reflecting practice and technique. Dante, though, throws everything into his movements to kill as fast as possible. That if he just swings hard enough, this’ll all be over faster. He even stumbles in his combat because he’s put so much power into his swings, it’s my favorite little detail. 

In the game, it’s mentioned that Dante’s first recorded demon kill was when he was eight years old. It was one of the ‘caretakers’ at the facility he was in. I often wonder if that’s the moment that they were trying to depict in this image, the moment after that. I'm not really sold that he looks eight here but I mean you be the judge of that but bare with me. It’s the mood, that moment right after he’s been forced to enter his new reality for the first time. That he is going to have to fight like this the rest of his life. That bewilderment and regret and just general disbelief that he’s done this, that he’s just killed something. That sorrow for the Dante he was before, like that sorrow that David must be feeling for who he was before as well. 

But there’s a second layer here I haven’t gotten to yet. And that’s how Caravaggio’s David is also thought to be a self portrait. No, he’s not David. Caravaggio has painted himself as Goliath. A portrait of Caravaggio for reference: 

(Caravaggio as depicted by Ottavio Leoni in 1621)

Usually this is read as a tongue and cheek thing to the pope, like Caravaggio is offering himself in the ultimate repentance for his crimes. He’s sorry, here’s his head on a platter. But there’s something about it being a self portrait coupled with David’s pity for this Goliath that feels kinda...sad in a way. 

Further context to this is Caravaggio, on the run or not, did not have a studio. He was a solo artist, which is a bit odd for the period at his level. He did not take students, so his techniques died with him. No one else worked on his paintings, they’re all by his hand. This in particular David was not commissioned either, it was done as a gift. So this was a deliberate thing entirely thought through by him, painting himself as Golith, painting David so full of pity and grief. 

It’s sort of this idea of pity for the monster when you yourself are the monster as well as a sort of self hatred. Which reboot Dante is familiar with. Either Dante, preboot or reboot, kind of has this arc about trying to cope with being half demon while hating being half demon. It’s not a part of himself that he likes. The reboot goes further with this though because he doesn’t even have the solace of being half human, he’s also half angel. Reboot Dante goes from seeing himself as a human being to being told no, your not, your the things that you hate and it’s your job to protect people anyway. You are both the out of control monster and a threat, but also their protector. 

In either reboot or preboot this isn’t like the most explicit character beat, though it does come up. In the reboot we see it peak through in moments like Dante’s interactions with Phineas. The ‘my father was a demon and I’m nothing like him’ mentality. The reboot makes this more pressing to in that like, the reboot makes it clear that demons are not a hive mind. While they seem to vary in intelligence and free will and all that, the game does not imply that Phineas and Sparda are alone in their grievances where as the preboot paints demons like Sparda and Trish as complete oddities. But part of either Dante’s rejection of Sparda is always rooted in ‘Sparda is a demon, and I’m nothing like the demons.’

This is interesting in the reboot because, unlike Vergil, reboot Dante is always visually contrasted with demon imagery. His world is very red. His color is red. The colors on him, even the blacks and grays, are warm tones. His devil trigger is designed in such a way that the abundance of reds in it are even more prominent then his initial design. The only time he’s not is the scene with the graffiti where he’s positioned on the side with the angels. But visually it’s still made clear. Dante is the demonic twin, Vergil more angelic. On top of that, characters in the reboot love to point out how Dante reminds them of Sparda. Phineas does it and Mundus really does it (the ‘just like your father, too big for your fucking boots’ line). Which further puts Dante at odds with his identity. As much as he thinks he is nothing like Sparda, he’s his fathers son. He’s the demon half of this twin relationship. 

I think to like Caravaggio’s David’s just...they don’t want to do this. They’re just kids. They don’t want to kill their Goliaths. But they have to. Which is the spot we see reboot Dante in. He doesn’t want to save the world. He doesn’t want to fight for his life as often as he does. He doesn’t want this. But he has to do it. He might say he doesn’t give a shit, but what’s his choice? When has he ever had a choice? He’s the unwilling savior.

This runs through the game to. Dante doesn’t really want to be here. He makes that clear a lot. And his bravado is constantly a cover to keep him from being too vulnerable, too exposed. But it’s that last fight with Vergil where it all falls apart. He did this because Vergil asked him to, and Vergil didn’t even tell him the truth. And just like everything else, Dante doesn’t want to kill Vergil. He doesn’t want to fight him. But he’s provoked him anyway and got himself in this fight and he can’t let Vergil take the throne. David can’t just let Goliath go.

It’s the end of the game where we finally have Dante completely free of his walls and completely bare and entirely unaware of who he is and what he’s supposed to do next. It’s the same sort of vulnerability that I feel is abundant in that last David. Who is he now after all of this? Does he like this person? What’s he to do now that he knows what he’s capable of, knows what he’s done?

What makes him any different then this head in his hands?

[makeste]

I read the meta you reposted about anyone being able to become a hero, and I would just like to give some thoughts. I agree it is wrong to think in terms of good vs bad victims and measure everyone as the same. Just because Shoto never killed anyone in response to his abuse and Toya did doesn't mean that Toya was always an evil person looking for an excuse to break bad. Different people break from different things.

these are all good, well-reasoned points, anon, but I disagree with a few of them. let me try to explain.

so the thing about this whole atonement process is that it’s hugely complex, and there isn’t really any kind of roadmap for Endeavor to follow when it comes to trying to make things right. I actually appreciate that his arc is written in such a way that his epiphany doesn’t just happen all at once, and you can see how his approach gradually turns from one that’s still mostly selfish and centered on him, to one that’s actually focused on his kids and what they need. you can see the stages he progresses through as the series goes on.

1. I’d argue that it all starts when he first gets yelled at by Deku (“Todoroki isn’t you!”). he realizes that maybe this kid has got a point, and that treating his son as an extension of him rather than as his own person might just be sorta shitty. so he files that away, but we don’t really see much of a change in him yet.

2. then a few months later he gets thrust into the #1 hero role, which has the interesting psychological effect of forcing him to see past himself and his ego for perhaps the first time in his life. he suddenly finds himself in this position as the new Symbol, and starts to feel the responsibility of that, and it basically triggers the entire rest of his redemption arc. because once he starts looking outside himself, he starts to realize the impact his actions have on other people, including his family. for the first time, he starts looking at the situation with fresh eyes, and realizes how much he’s hurt them.

3. quick little detour here, I feel like it’s important to note that Endeavor -- like many abusers -- actually does love his family and never intentionally set out to hurt them. but the problem is that he is so self-centered for most of his life that he never stops to consider that his family and his kids don’t simply exist to serve his own purposes. he abuses Shouto during his training but I’ll bet you he himself never thought of it as actual abuse, just him being hard on him in order to toughen him up. he thinks he’s doing what’s best for Shouto by making him strong in the hopes that he’ll one day surpass All Might, because that’s always been his goal, and so he just unilaterally decides that should be Shouto’s goal too. he wants the best for him, but it never enters his mind to consider that his son is his own person who, gasp, might not actually want the same things that Endeavor wants. btw I should clarify that absolutely none of this excuses anything he does, holy shit. but I feel like it’s important to mention, because many people complain that the change in Endeavor happens too abruptly and is too unrealistic, but I don’t think that’s true at all. it’s just that people don’t like to acknowledge that abusers are still human (meaning that anyone can become one if they’re not careful to consider how they treat others). Endeavor’s actions are monstrous, but they stem from realistic places, and I think that it’s a very well-thought-out character arc.

4. and so basically, once that change finally starts happening, it’s not that he suddenly starts loving his kids all of a sudden out of nowhere. it’s that he finally starts loving them for their own sake, rather than his. for the first time, he starts loving them selflessly rather than selfishly. and it’s not a change that just happens overnight, because he is so used to everything revolving around him that even after he starts realizing what he’s doing wrong, it still takes him a while to break free from those patterns.

5. and so for example, he suddenly becomes wildly supportive of Shouto and his training and attempts to go full-blown helicopter parent. because clearly that’s what Shouto needs, right?? all those years he was trying to make him into his own personal mini-me rather than loving his son for who he was and supporting him as his own person. and so we see him hounding Shouto in texts to let him teach him his Ultimate Technique (but not because he wants him to surpass All Might, but because he just wants him to be the best hero he can be! it’s different now!), and attending his training sessions to cheer him on from the stands like an obnoxious soccer mom. and afterwards he tells him he’s proud of him, and that he wants to become someone Shouto can be proud of.

6. so you can see there’s some progress at this point, but at the same time he’s still making a lot of the same mistakes. his intentions by this point have genuinely changed! but he’s still looking at the situation from his own point of view, and not taking into consideration how his son feels about the forced attempts at reconciliation. he’s thinking ‘I was a shit father, I need to make it up to him by being supportive.’ but he doesn’t stop to consider that Shouto might not WANT his support by this stage in the game; that he might, in fact, not want anything to do with him at all.

7. and this doesn’t change until after his battle at Fukuoka, when he has dinner with his family and Natsuo blows up at him. he basically lays it all out on the table, but this is the most important part:

I am willing to bet that he did not, in fact, get it until pretty much that moment, actually. because up until this point, he’s been doing exactly as Natsuo said -- trying to make nice, trying to show that he’s changed, and to be a good father now. but he doesn’t stop to consider (a) just how much hurt he really has caused them, and (b) just how impossible it is to simply erase all of that. the pain Natsuo’s expressing here isn’t something people can simply get over. and I don’t think Enji realizes until this moment that he was still going about this in the wrong way.

8. and that, lastly, is what finally leads to this:

he finally realizes that it’s not about him. and apologizes, but makes it clear that Natsuo does not have to forgive him, and that he doesn’t want to burden him by making him feel otherwise. he acknowledges Natsuo’s feelings, acknowledges the pain he’s caused, and realizes that what he and the others need is space. and this is when he makes the decision to build the new home for them and Rei, so that they can finally start to move on -- without him, if that’s what it takes.

so this is basically the progression of Endeavor’s redemption arc up to this point. and I’m sorry it took so long to recap, I didn’t mean for it to lol, but there were a lot of parts I didn’t want to just gloss over. so now, here are a few last points I want to make about his arc.

1. first off, it’s important to consider the timeline here. when making your point earlier, you talked about Endeavor building the new home for his kids, but how “on the other hand” he kept trying to force his relationship with Shouto. however the order of these things is switched around. because Endeavor building the house is something that happens at the end of his arc. and in fact we have not seen him try to force anything with Shouto since then. this is important to acknowledge because it shows that he is learning and that it’s not just an insincere case of one step forward, two steps back. the progress he’s making here is genuine; he really is trying not to be selfish anymore.

2. I know I said “the end” of his arc just now, but in fact we have no reason to believe that this is the end of it. every time I see an argument about “well why hasn’t he done this yet, or why hasn’t he said this”, I wonder why people assume that just because he hasn’t done it yet, it means we’re never going to see it. for instance, he still hasn’t apologized to Shouto specifically for the way he abused him all those years. but just because we haven’t seen it yet doesn’t mean that it won’t happen.

3. fandom has this tendency, when it comes to characters they don’t like and don’t want to see redeemed, to continuously move the goalposts so that no matter what that character does and how much they change, they can continue to justify why it’s not enough. I’m going to take a quick break from Endeavor and use Bakugou as the example here instead, since I think it’s easier to summarize.

“Bakugou is such an asshole, all he cares about is himself, he’s definitely going to become a villain.”

[Bakugou refuses to join the villains] “well whatever, he’s still a jerk, just look at how he can’t even work together with others and refuses to help anyone.”

[Bakugou learns to Win and Save, and unlocks the Power of Teamwork] “well whatever, he still doesn’t care about anyone else. look at how he’s still an asshole to Deku even now.”

[Bakugou starts helping Deku train and learn how to control OFA] “whatever, that’s literally the bare minimum, there’s still no proof that he even cares about him.”

[Bakugou literally takes a life-threatening blow to save Deku] “whatever, it’s like he said, his body moved on its own so there’s still no proof he really cares.”

[Bakugou wakes up from a two-day coma, immediately asks about Deku’s health, and rushes to his bedside] “whatever, I don’t know why everyone is making such a fuss over it, he hasn’t even apologized to him yet.”

and so on and so forth. and I guarantee that once he finally does apologize, it will then shift to “well why couldn’t he just have done that in the first place.” but you get my point.

basically, there are certain characters whose redemption arcs fandom will actively continue to deny no matter what. Bakugou is one of those characters, and so is Endeavor. and I’m not saying that in order to call those people out, because everyone has their own boundaries of forgiveness, and I don’t have the right to dictate anyone else’s, just like they don’t have the right to dictate mine. everyone has their own line, and where it’s drawn is different for each person. like for me, the one particular character who can fuck off for all eternity as far as I’m concerned is Overhaul (although I admit I am still curious to see what Horikoshi has planned for him post-prison break in spite of all that). and there are a lot of other people for whom Endeavor crosses their own personal line. and you know what, that’s fine.

but here’s the thing -- if you actually want to debate his redemption arc with people, you should be willing to do so in good faith. meaning that if you really do think Endeavor is unforgiveable (and I’m speaking now in general terms, not addressing you specifically anon), just go ahead and say so! but don’t come up with an arbitrary list of criteria that he needs to meet in order to qualify for redemption, only to keep on adding more and more items to the list. and most importantly, don’t assume that your criteria are the only valid criteria and that you can speak for everyone else. and especially don’t act like you have a right to go around slapping people with labels like “abuse apologist” just because they don’t share the same opinions as you about a fictional character.

anyway! so as usual, a post that I originally meant to be only a few paragraphs long turned out to be a whole damn essay, I apologize. but anyways anon, basically I share the same opinion as you as far as the mindset that Endeavor needs to have for his atonement (i.e. that it’s not about him). however, I think he’s made more progress than this ask gives him credit for, and I don’t think any of it has been fake. that being said, it’s still a process, and his biggest tests are yet to come. whatever ends up happening, I hope the outcome ends up being one that the rest of his family can find peace with.

[catzula]

Hello hello! I saw that you're opening requests so here i am! May i have a fic of Katsuki where he found the reader who's usually is a tough nut to crack, is 99% of the time never really cry and acts like a crackhead suddenly starts crying after one of Katsuki's empty insults he usually threw at her? And it turns out that she was very overwhelmed about the amount of work, deadlines, pressure and pretty much problems twirling around her to the point where one insult that she KNOWS he didn't even mean it can throw her over the edge? And Katsuki just went '?!?!?!' and didn't know what to do? Kinda feeling pretty much like this rn lmao, and kinda want comfort especially if it's from the boom boom man.

Anyways- i absolutely adore your work!

•words and promises•

A/N: this request was really cute and so relatable cuz ever since the schools started again, they've been going so hard on us I don't even have the time to sleep sometimes (but I have the time to write- ironic huh) I hope you're feeling better now, tho! Thank you so much for the request, I hope this was comforting rather than triggering cuz bakugou is mean here lmao

bnha taglist!: @astroninaaa

W.C: 3.2k

Warnings: cursing, insecurities (I think?), stress and anxiety

Genre: angst with a good ending, comfort

"And please hand the summary in by Friday. Todoroki-kun, could you make sure to collect them from everyone and hand them to me?" Midnight asked with a bright smile, leaving the room when Todoroki nodded, everyone else groaning in frustration.

"She wants us to read a whole goddamn book and summarize it in a week?" Kaminari cried out, voicing all of your inner thoughts.

"You, know, Kaminari-kun, it's not entirely impossible to do that." Iida interrupted, fixing his glasses. It would've been a bit more convincing if he didn't have purple bags under his eyes and looked like he was about to pass out.

"Maybe It wouldn't have been impossible if we didn't have 20 other summaries and essays to write!" Mina shot back, and Iida had no answers to that.

You stood silent, but that was because you felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything they were saying was true, this was all too much, and you had no idea how to overcome it. Not even aware you zoned out, you were awoken by your state by a hard snap of a finger in front of your eyes.

"Watcha looking at?" The owner of the fingers asked, and despite his hard voice, his ruby red eyes had a playful glint to them.

"I was just worried if you're smart enough to actually finish an assignment." You told mockingly, and he scoffed.

"Look at the one talking, you were the one who came to my door last night, begging me to help you with the science homework."

"I didn't beg!" You protested. "I just asked you if you did it and you offered to help me!"

"I offered to help just because I pitied you." He muttered, his harsh words causing the rest of the class to gasp and look at you, half expecting you to get mad and scream at him, even though this scene was happening more often than they would like to admit.

These little fights you had with Bakugou was now almost a part of their day. It was an odd relationship you had, always attacking each other, sometimes maybe taking it a bit far, but both of you always knew it wasn't coming from the heart.

When you stood silent, sending a mocking laugh his way, and kept scrolling through Instagram, he was a little surprised.

You were never silent, you always, always had something to say back. In fact, that was one of the things he loved- hated about you. Whatever he told you, you had something clever or dumb to say, and you were so brutally blunt when he fought with you, sometimes he found himself laughing at the insults you threw at him.

Still, his pride stopped him from asking if something was wrong, on the contrary, he was happy to finally have some quiet time, he told himself. You could feel his eyes on you as you thoughtlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed, but you didn't have it in you to argue, you were too tired for that.

Bakugou scoffed after looking at you for a while, still expecting you to poke fun at him, but when you sat still, he gritted his teeth and sat back at his place.

■■■

Bakugou never thought he would miss arguing with you.

He noticed you were acting a bit odd, not once trying to get in a fight with him, not even a snarky comment coming from your way. It was weird to see you so quiet, and it was getting on his nerves.

You weren't entirely silent, but whenever he tried to lul you into fighting with him, you just looked at him with a blank smile and went on doing whatever it was you were doing. And Bakugou was not someone you could just ignore.

Your friends had started to catch up with Bakugou's growing frustration, his now harder comments, and how you simply ignored them. They thought you were tired of him (really, who could judge you? Everyone knew how extra Bakugou sometimes could be), and didn't think of it as much, except one particular red-head.

Kirishima noticed how you clenched your teeth, how your hands turned into fists, your knuckles turning white whenever you heard a comment about you. He was probably the only one that actually understood the odd relationship between you and Bakugou, so Kirishima was more than aware that something was troubling you. He also knew better than just simply asking you, well aware you would never accept that there was, in fact, something bothering you.

You had never been the type to talk about your feelings easily, always trying to fix things by yourself, and taking pride by doing things alone. Your stubborn nature sometimes reminded him too much of a certain ashy blonde.

"Hey, Y/N." He approached you at a break, noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "Oh, hey, Kiri-kun, what's up?" You asked with a slightly forced smile when you felt his eyes examining you.

"Nothing much, we're gonna meet up in Mina's dorm tonight, you know, to partly study and talk. You've been kinda distant lately, you wanna come?" You bit your lip thoughtfully. You wanted to go, but there was so much to do and so little time that you felt like you didn't even have time to sleep, let alone spend time with your friends.

"I- I don't know." You muttered with an apologetic smile. "I don't think I can, I really should work on the homework."

"Oh come on," He insisted. "You don't have to stay long, and it's nice to take a break sometime, you know."

Taking a break. Something you've been putting off doing for a long time.

"You've been pushing yourself quite a lot, you know. Don't think we missed how tired and stressed you've been lately."

"I'm not-" You tried to deny, but sighed when he looked like he wouldn't believe whatever you told him. "Okay, I'll be there." You told him, and he sent you a cheeky smile.

"Just make sure we have enough coffee."

"I personally will take care of that." He winked, and you giggled, shaking your head side to side. You didn't even notice the ruby eyes watching you two as you laughed, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of Bakugou's stomach since it was someone else who made you laugh. Not him. All he could do was to mess with you.

The frustration he felt reflected on his words, too. Sure, Bakugou was never nice, but over the past years you had spent with him, he had learned to be, well, not so aggressive. But as the day went by, he just kept attacking you in a way that made you feel trapped.

And even though you never noticed, the way you seemed to ignore him whenever he tried to get a reaction from you just made everything worse, causing Bakugou to get even braver with his attempts to fight.

And he was aware of it, too. Bakugou could feel his heart beating faster in his chest whenever he told you something, a fear in him that told him he just went too far this time, but nonetheless, he still didn't even get one look his way.

"Miss Y/N? Can you answer this?" You heard Aizawa calling your name, making you jump in your seat. You weren't even aware that you had zoned out. Again. "I- I'm sorry." You muttered after a few seconds, looking down at your hands and hiding your face.

A mocking laugh came from Bakugou's way, and you clenched your teeth, hoping he would just let it go with a scoff, but your hopes died when Aizawa quirked a brow.

"Bakugou? Have something to say?" He asked, and Bakugou scoffed. "How can you be so-" He started to say but stopped mid-sentence when you didn't even turn his way, playing with the pen that was in front of you, instead, as if you were telling him just your pen was more interesting then whatever he had to say.

"Whatever." He muttered, not bothering to finish the remark he was previously saying.

■■■

"I have to pull like a week of full nighters to get half of these done!" Mina groaned eyeing the books and papers that were towering on her desk, denying to fit into her bag.

"And Aizawa-sensei even talked to them to go easy on us." Ochako exclaimed nervously. Even Yaoyorozu, probably the only one that would actually be able to finish all the assignments, had bags under her eyes, either from stress or the lack of sleep.

You entered the room, only to find a bag full of canned coffee and Kirishima's wide smile, greeting you. "I kept my promise, you see." He told you as you settled on the floor across him. "And I kept mine." You answered with a tired smile. It was an unnecessary attempt to hide how tired you were at this point.

"Hey, Y/N, we were wondering if you were okay? You seem to be a little down lately and-" Ochako asked with a nervous smile, which you didn't even let her finish. Maybe it was rude what you did, but you didn't want to hear the end of that sentence.

"Oh I'm perfectly fine." You lied through your teeth. "Maybe just a little stressed, but really nothing important."

"Are you sure?" Mina quirked a brow at you, but before you could answer, everyone looked at the door when they heard a knock, and you took a deep breath of relief. Looking around you, everyone was here, and you weren't sure who it could be at the door-

"Bakugou, you showed up!" Mina cheered when she saw the grumpy blond leaning to the door.

"Tch," he scoffed, his eyes meeting yours for a second, the look in them sending shivers down your spine. "Only because you wouldn't get out of my hair if I didn't."

"It always works, though." She told him with a sly smile, causing his eyes to narrow in a threatening way. His gaze wandered around the room, eyes meeting yours for a second time that night, you noticed his hands turning into tight fists when you looked away.

It wasn't your intention to ignore him the way you did, you just didn't have the strength to fight back. You liked fighting with Bakugou, but lately, you felt like you would break if anyone so much as touched you, and Bakugou's words were -even though it was unintentional- often harder than a slap across your face.

He didn't think of it as something important, no one did, since you were the only one that could handle Bakugou and fight back. You never held your tongue, never quivered before him, never looked sad when he said something that would make anyone else break down crying.

No one ever knew, it did sadden you. Especially lately, with all the stress and pressure on you, it did make you feel like crying, but of course, you weren't going to admit to that.

So, you hid it. From everyone, from your friends, form Aizawa sensei and family. No one needed to know how everything was pressuring you in a way that the only thing you could feel was being trapped until you just... sorted things out.

"Hey, you okay?" Kirishima nudged you with his leg, waking you up from your dark thoughts. Not even aware you zoned out, your breath stuck in your chest, you gaped at him blankly for a second.

"Y-yeah." You answered with a smile, and you heard him sigh.

"Yeah, okay." He finally told you. "Just- just know you can talk to me when you don't feel good, 'kay? You know I'm always here to listen."

You did, you really did, but you just wanted to sort things out yourself, without anyone else, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough.

You nodded and reached for a can of coffee, hiding your watering eyes from him.

"Oh, since you're here!" You heard Mina shuffle some paper on her desk. "Could you help me with this math question? I've been working on it for a while now, but I just couldn't do it." She leaned your way, handing you the paper.

"Oh-" You bit your lip, feeling oddly guilty. "I'm sorry Mina, I couldn't do it either."

"Oh, that's okay, we'll just ask Bakugou, then." She shrugged thoughtlessly and turned to the blond that was watching your every move, looking awfully similar to a wolf watching his prey. His eyes narrowed when you followed your friend and got closer to him, not saying a word. The meek look in your eyes oddly disturbed him, even he wasn't sure why seeing you like this angered him, but it did. He could feel how your nervousness grew as you walked towards him, too.

"What? Too dumb to do it yourself?" He raised one brow, praying to get an annoying answer like you always did, but you just looked away, instead.

"Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that dumb that you can't even-"

"Bakugou, that's enough." Kirishima interrupted, noticing your watering eyes, how you nervously chewed on your lip, but Bakugou wasn't listening to him. He was too focused on trying to get a reaction out of you, not even aware of anything else.

"What- did I offend the princess? Is that all you can do? Just stand there all pretty, not able to even defend yourself that people around you has to?" Bakugou blurted out, words coming out of his mouth in an angry fit. The second he said them, his eyes widened, realizing he went too far this time.

Too far.

He saw how you flinched at his words, and that's when you chose to look him in the eyes. Your lashes wet with tears you were desperately trying to hold back, one or two already sliding down your cheek. Only then did he notice how tense you were, and not only then, but almost all the time these last few days.

"I-" You tried to speak, but you choked on your words, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, and in your ears, you knew you had to get away from him.

Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you left the room in a rush, leaving ten gaping people after you.

"Wh-what the fuck?" Bakugou muttered, his eyes still fixed on where you were standing seconds ago.

"Are you fucking dumb?" Kirishima exclaimed suddenly. His eyes wide with disbelief, yeah, Bakugou was mean and he did go overboard sometimes, but this was something else.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He kept pestering his dumbfounded friend. "What were you thinking as you said all those things to her? Hah?"

"I wasn't-"

"You weren't thinking, that's the problem! What's going on with you lately? How can you lash out at her so?!" Bakugou stood quiet, the rest of the room not even daring to make a sound.

"Shut up, shitty hair." Bakugou muttered as he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Ochako asked meekly, gulping loudly when Bakugou sent a glare her way and exited without even answering her question.

■■■

It wasn't hard to find you.

Maybe it was because he knew you too well, even more than he was even aware, or maybe it was because you weren't as complicated as you thought you were.

The night was chilly, the stars so bright, he was certain you were out in the garden. He spotted you on the bench, feeling his heart clenching with the sight of your face hidden in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Y/N." He called out, his voice making you jump in your seat. You sprinted to your legs immediately, wiping the tears with the back of your hand, though, not doing a good job since your face was still damp with tears.

"Bakugou- wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, taking a step back when he got closer to you. He noticed this, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm here to..." Why was he here? Certainly not to apologize. No, Bakugou never apologized.

Or so you thought.

"I'm here cause I'm- sorry." He finally managed to say, almost inaudibly. "For the things I said back in there- and other times, too."

He watched as you bit your lip, a confused and hurt look in your eyes, and he wanted to kick himself for causing you to be like this. "Why-" You finally managed to say after a few seconds, "why did you say all that? Why did you-"

"I'm sorry." He repeated, and this time you didn't step back when he walked towards you. So close that you could feel his caramel scent enveloping you. "I'm really sorry."

"I was- I was being dumb, I didn't mean any of that, and I'm really, really sorry." He whispered, and before he even knew what happened, you had your arms wrapped around him. It caught him by surprise, but he instantly closed his arms around you, too, holding you so tightly, his body so warm and so safe, you found yourself crying once again.

"Shh," he whispered to your hair, his hand caressing your hair in a soothing way. "It's okay." He didn't really know what was okay, but he felt like you needed to hear those words.

And you did.

Your sobbed in his arms, your face pressed to that place in between his shoulder and neck as his hand stroking your hair. And you didn't know what it was, but after a while that felt like you were never going to stop crying, you felt your sobs dying slowly, until all that was left was your occasional sighs.

Bakugou had never seen you like this, never so vulnerable, never so open. But the soft smile on his face told you that he didnt hate it. And you didn't exactly hate it either, to finally be able to at least show a fraction of what you were feeling to anyone.

"I'm sorry." You muttered. "I got your shirt wet."

"Dumbass, why are you apologizing-" his eyes widened when he realized he insulted you again. "I didn't mean-"

"No it's okay." You giggled. "I still want to have those- whatever it is we have. Let's not change anything, I don't want you to act as if I'm fragile glass."

"Y-yeah." He answered, his chest finally feeling lighter since he saw you laugh. "Yeah, okay."

His eyes looked at your laughing face one more time. "Promise."

Even though you weren't sure why exactly he promised, you had a feeling it was to never make you cry again.

[chibinekochan]

Angel in Hell - Part 7

Obey me! Angel Reader Au.

Gen. reader insert.

Read the other parts first. part 1 | part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | | Part 5  | Part 6 | 

~1,5k words

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod  ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360  ; @a-personnamed-ace

 ____________________________

*Quick summary if you had to skip the last part*

You were just having a good time in the club with Asmo and Mammon when you saw Satan.

A stupid demon hit on you, Satan became angry. Then Asmo came and Satan and Asmo had an argument. Both changed into their demon forms. Mammon tried and failed to calm them down. You then ordered them to stop what they did. 

This came as a huge shock to you, since angels can't control demons.  

Confused, you fled the scene.

Heads up that angel Mc has a mental breakdown in this part, just in case that triggers you. 

Please stay safe. 

_____________________________________

  With shaking hands, you dial a number. 

He picks up. 

Sounding tired. "What… Did something happen? Are you alright?" It's Simeon’s voice. 

His voice calms you a bit down. 

"C-can I come to you right now? I j-just need to talk… something did just.. and I don't even know what to…" Your words are barely coherent. 

"Where are you?" Simeon seems to be wide awake now. 

"Near a club... I - was there with… never mind I just gonna walk to you." You don't even know your exact location. 

"Take a deep breath. I will track your location, give me a moment. Alright, there is a fast-food joint right next to you. Go in there, I will be there very soon. Don't hang up alright. Keep talking." Simeon tries his best to calm you down over the phone.

  You look and see the brightly lit fast food joint."I see it. I can just call a cap you know." You answer like a robot. 

"No, you are in a terrible state. Wait, are you hurt?" Simeon sounds very worried, you can hear him shuffle around in the background, obviously getting ready. 

"N-no I'm just so lost." You don't know how to feel. 

"Alright. Then just go to the fast-food joint." Simeon sounds slightly relieved. 

"Alright." You are too weak to say anything else. 

"My cap is almost here. Just sit down and wait for me. Order a coffee if you want." Simeon keeps instructing you over the phone.

  You do as he says. 

You just sit down in the place, Simeon occasionally asks you if you are alright. To which you weakly reply. 

You are so relieved when you see him dashing into the fast-food joint. You must look very devastated right now. 

Simeon just gives you a hug and you let him.

  "Come, let's go home. You can tell me what happened when we are there and you are comfortable." Simeon comforts you. 

You grab onto his sleeve. "I'm so glad you are here." You feel like crying. 

"It's alright. I will always come for you." He gives you a gentle smile. 

You slowly get up, supported by Simeon.

  His gentle presence just lets everything erupt from the inside. "Simeon, they fought and then something happened.. I don't even know what… It-It was like… I don't know it was just…" You can't even finish your sentence before tears start streaming down your face. 

Simeon puts his hands on your shoulders. "It's alright take your time." He smiles at you reassuringly.

"I just wanted them to stop so I yelled and they just… St-Stopped." You start to shake. You stare at your hands. 

"It's alright you are safe now." Simeon hugs you.

"Simeon, Angels can't control demons right?" You are so confused, barely keeping your sanity. 

"We should have this conversation elsewhere. You clearly need time and rest. Just know that what happened, wasn't anything bad." Simeon only has your safety in mind right now. 

"Simeon, I just don't understand any of this. What did I do? How could I control them?" You cry more, shaking. You hold yourself like you want to stop yourself from falling apart.

"It's alright, I know this a lot right now. I will explain everything to you. Let's go home." Simeon gently leads you to the cap, he holds your hand and gives you a couple of tissues on the ride.

  You mumble more questions, Simeon gently repeats that he will tell you everything when you have calmed down. 

He knows that it's not the right time or place right now. 

You are greatly weakened by the time you arrive back at the dorm. 

Simeon has to carry you, you are very shaky and your tears have barely stopped. 

You cling to Simeon, you repeat how impossible this is. 

It just doesn't make any sense.

Simeon holds you close. He gives you some gentle words that just sound miles away. 

Gently Simeon places you on his bed. 

You manage to catch your breath a little when he gets you a blanket. 

You wrap yourself up in it. It seems like a safe cocoon against the world right now. 

Simeon makes some tea for you, without leaving your side. 

He quietly sits down next to you on the bed.

  "Simeon, I somehow controlled demons just how is that possible?" You just can't understand it. 

"Normally it would be impossible even in special situations. I'm not an expert but this has never happened before as far as I know. You are a very special case so that might be why." Simeon calmly answers you. 

This only causes more questions to pop into your head.

  Suddenly your phone goes off. You almost jump. 

You are sure that you muted it. It's Mammon. You don't want to talk to him. Everything is already too much for you. 

Simeon notices your hesitation. "Do you mind if I tell him that you are alright?" He figures that Mammon is worried about you. 

You nod weakly and hand him the phone.

  "Hello, Mammon. This is Simeon. They are safe here with me." Simeon is calm as always. 

You can hear Mammon in the background, but can't really understand his words. 

"Yes, they are quite shaken. Is everything alright on your end? I heard something about a fight?" Simeon seems concerned about them too. 

Mammon says something. Simeon agrees with a few sounds. "I think I have a better picture now. I think we will need to inform Lucifer about this. I will let them stay here for tonight. Just make sure you all get home safely." Simeon is gentle with them. 

The mention of Lucifer makes your ears perk up. This must be very serious. 

Mammon says a few more things." I understand, don't worry too much. I will make sure they are alright." Simeon has a gentle smile on his face. 

Then he hangs up. "They are all very sorry and very worried. Mammon told me that they will apologize properly as soon as you are better." Simeon gently summarizes Mammon's request. 

You are glad that they don't resent you now.  You nod weakly. “Will they kick me out? Will Michael be mad at me?” You are very worried about this.

“No, that will never happen. Nobody is going to punish you for this. You have done nothing to be ashamed of.” Simeon has heard the whole story from Mammon but even without that he fully trusts you.

“Can I really stay here tonight?” You are pretty sure that it's against the rules.

“Yes, I insist on it. I will sleep on a few blankets on the floor.” Simeon is happy now that they have some backup blankets just for a potential sleepover. 

“I'm sorry that I'm such a burden to you…” You feel very guilty.

“You aren't a burden, you are a friend in need.” Simeon gives your back a reassuring rub.

“Thank you, Simeon.” His words touch you deeply. You didn't know that he sees you this way.

  You relax a little bit, slowly exhaustion creeps into your body. 

"You must be very tired. How about you change into something more comfortable and then we can talk of you can rest." Simeon just wants you to relax. You are clearly not in the right mindset to be told everything right now.

  You nod, Simeon is right, your head is such a mess and you need rest. 

Simeon gets some of his own pajamas for you and leaves the room so you can change. 

After you are done you wrap yourself up with his blanket.

  Simeon comes back to the room. 

"Can you stay by my side for a little while? Just until I pass out…" You feel a bit guilty to ask this but you don't want to be alone right now. 

"Of course. I will sit here if that's okay with you." Simeon quietly takes a chair and moves it next to the bed. 

You nod. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else that I can do to comfort you?" Simeon talks gently. 

You shake your head. You can't think of anything. 

"Alright. How about I read something for you?" 

"Sounds good." You feel like it might be nice. 

Simeon nods and gets a book from the shelf and starts reading something for you. 

You can't really pay attention to it but his voice soothes you. 

At some point, sleep takes you over and you pass out.

  The next morning comes and you feel very drowsy. It takes you a few moments to recall last night's events. 

With heavy movements, you get up. 

Simeon is nowhere to be seen but Luke is there.

  "Good morning. Simeon is just off getting you something to eat. I think he also wanted to get you something to dress." Luke seems worried. He is probably upset that Simeon didn't involve him last night but he doesn't show it. 

"I see. Thank you Luke and sorry that I just crashed here last night." Your emotions are still all over the place. 

"You are welcome to crash here whenever you want. You can use the bathroom too if you want a shower. I put towels out for you and Simeon said you can use his clothes." Luke does his best to make you feel welcome. 

"I will just wait for my clothes, even when a shower sounds great." You don't feel like changing your clothes again later. 

"Of course do what makes you feel best. Simeon gave me a summary of last night and I also support you." Luke clearly wants you to rely on him too. 

You give him a thankful smile. "That is very nice of you. I just hope that someone will be able to answer my questions."

"Don't worry. I know for a fact that they already spoke about this. You will definitely be told everything as soon as you are ready." Luke tries to encourage you.

  You hope that Luke is right. 

After a bit, Simeon comes back, with some of your clothes and some breakfast. 

You eat a little and then finally take a well-needed shower.

 ~ The last part will be posted tomorrow.

[king-finnigan]

For the mash up prompts: 55, Established Relationship and 69, Flirting Under Fire. Geraskier is my OTP, but I also feel like it'd be fun with any Witcher/Witcher pairing 😍

Sorry for the late answer, dear! I’m a bit busy with school right now, so anyone who’s still waiting for a reply, please bear with me! I will get to it eventually.

Also I did make this Geraskier, because I haven’t read the books or played the games, so I’m not entirely comfortable writing the other Witchers as major characters 😅

***

Of three things Jaskier is absolutely certain.

1. He regrets each and every action that has lead up to now, to the situation he has suddenly found himself in.

2. There are two pairs of eyes trained on him and Geralt, as they sit at the bar, one friendly, one hostile. Or both friendly. Or both hostile. He’s not sure of things like that anymore.

3. He loves Geralt. He really does. But his boyfriend might be the worst undercover cop he’s ever seen in his entire goddamn life.

As the son of the patriarch of the Pankratz family, he’s seen a lot of undercover cops - some better than others, yet no matter how good, all of them were found out by his dad, and got executed and dumped into the ocean. But none of them have been as bad as Geralt.

He really does wonder how the hell his boyfriend managed to get hired by the FBI, as Geralt looks at him, unease evident on his face - even though he’s supposed to seduce Jaskier - and says: “I- I like your... eyes. They’re... very blue.” 

Jaskier swallows thickly, hand tightening around the pint in front of him, as he fights the overwhelming urge to slam his head into the bar. He can feel his dad’s eyes boring into his back, and remembers the conversation they had earlier that day, when he pulled Jaskier aside, telling him he’s a hundred percent sure that their latest acquisition is an undercover cop - because of course he immediately knew Geralt wasn’t a criminal, big shocker - and that Jaskier needs to get close to him, find out what the Feds know about their operations and criminal activity.

He sighs, softly, trying to save Geralt’s awkward flirting, by shooting him a quick wink, putting on his most charming smile. “Thanks. My eyes are pretty special, though, they’re only blue when I’m looking at hot people.”

Geralt stammers, frowning a bit, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land, and Jaskier has to fight not to smack his forehead.

“But...” Geralt eventually replies “they’re always blue, no matter who you’re looking at.”

Now Jaskier has to fight the urge not to smack Geralt. He shoots a quick look over his shoulder, seeing his dad still staring at him. He turns back to his boyfriend who is actually not supposed to be his boyfriend at all. “Geralt, work with me goddammit. We’re supposed to seduce each other and it’s not gonna be believable if you say stupid shit like that,” he hisses.

“Sorry, I’m not good at this,” Geralt whispers back.

“Fucking clearly!”

He shoots a look over his other shoulder, meeting the other pair of eyes that keeps staring at them. Geralt’s colleague, another undercover cop. She’s been in the family a while, and his dad only keeps her around to feed her false information about their activities, to put the Feds on wild goose chases for drug or weapon deals that are never gonna happen.

Though, he knows that she’s aware that the information they’ve been feeding her is false, by now. That’s why the Feds sent Geralt - to seduce Jaskier, the brazen, gay wildchild of the Pankratz patriarch, and maybe get correct information about the family’s business. And she’s keeping an eye on them, to make sure Geralt does his job and doesn’t betray her or himself.

Little does she know Jaskier’s dad already knows Geralt’s a cop.

Because Geralt fucking sucks at being undercover.

He tries again. “Your eyes are lovely, though.” They’re one of the first things he noticed about Geralt when they first met, about a year ago, a few hours before they slept together for the first time. Neither of them had known about each other’s occupations at the time, and by the time they figured out that they were supposed to be mortal enemies, it had been too late - they had already fallen for each other.

“Thanks...” Geralt mutters, toying with his own pint “I... need them to see.”

Jaskier wonders how the fuck he ever managed to fall in love with this idiot.

But, then again, there hadn’t been any need for flirting, when they first met. They had instantly been attracted to each other, and talking just got in the way of kissing, really. And after that, Jaskier had fallen for Geralt because he always expressed his love through his actions, not his words.

So, really, deep down, he had already known Geralt would suck at flirting and would fail at ‘seducing’ Jaskier, especially with Jaskier’s dad and the other cop staring at them the whole time.

The question, really, is: how the fuck didn’t the FBI see this coming? Did they really think they could just put a hot man next to Jaskier, and he would immediately dive into bed with him and tell him all his family’s secrets?

Granted, that’s exactly what happened - a year ago, though. Not that the FBI knows. Not that they’ll ever know, hopefully.

He tries to summarize the situation for himself, as all these schemes and intrications have got his head spinning.

So, long story short: He is part of the mob, Geralt is a cop. They’ve been in a secret relationship for about a year now, and Jaskier’s dad expects him to seduce Geralt so they can find out what the Feds know, and the Feds expect Geralt to seduce Jaskier so they can get correct intel on the Pankratz’s activities.

Fucking marvellous.

He tries to have one more go at this ‘seduction’ thing, just to at least keep up appearances a little bit. “So, Ger-” he blinks, trying to remember his boyfriend’s undercover name “James. Is your hair white everywhere, or just on your head?” He leans his elbow on the bar, putting his chin in his hand, his index finger pulling his lower lip down slightly, looking up at Geralt through his lashes.

Just because his boyfriend sucks at flirting, doesn’t mean Jaskier can’t do it.

And, fortunately, it works. Geralt’s eyes flick down to Jaskier’s lips for a brief moment, as he shifts in his seat a bit, a blush creeping up his neck. “I- uh...”

Jaskier looks at him innocently, batting his eyelashes, exaggerating it so he’s sure his dad and the other undercover cop can see it. “I would love to find out.”

Geralt blinks again, leaning towards Jaskier. “You already know that, though.”

Jaskier sighs, once again resisting the urge to smash his head into the bar. “Geralt, I love you but you’re so fucking stupid. How the hell did you ever get hired by the FBI?” he hisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a bit stressed.”

“Yes, I can see that! The whole fucking bar can see that! This is never going to be believable if you keep acting like I’m holding you at gunpoint!”

“Oh, my bad, sorry I’m a bit nervous about this. It’s not as if your dad’s gonna execute me if he finds out I’m an undercover cop!��� He sounds properly angry now, brows knitted together over furious amber eyes.

Jaskier scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He already fucking knows, Geralt. You’re literally the worst undercover cop I’ve ever seen and the FBI sends us, like, a dozen a year. He’s only keeping you alive if I can seduce you - or, at least” he waves his hand non-committally “if he thinks I’ve seduced you.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you even more, you absolute idiot! You’re already acting like someone shoved a stick so far up your ass it’s triggering your gag reflex!”

“You of all people should know that I don’t have a gag reflex!”

Jaskier blinks, raising his finger at Geralt. “I know that, and I love you, but that wasn’t my point. My point was-” he lowers his hand, frowning. “What was my point?”

He looks up when he hears his dad’s voice next to him. “Everything alright here?”

Jaskier smiles, leaning away from Geralt until he’s sitting upright again. “Everything’s perfectly fine,” he shoots Geralt, who’s still glaring at him, a warning look. “Right, James?”

Geralt stares at him for another second, before leaning back as well, smiling at Jaskier’s dad so unconvincingly it makes Jaskier cringe. “Yeah, everything’s great.”

The patriarch looks between them for a split second. “Right.” He looks at Jaskier. “If anything’s the matter, tell me.” He looks at Geralt, though his words are still directed towards his son. “I’ll take care of it, then.”

“Nope! Everything’s perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Jaskier’s dad nods, and walks away. Geralt glares at him again. “And I thought you said I was a shitty actor!”

Jaskier grits his teeth together, standing up abruptly, taking Geralt’s arm, dragging his boyfriend/supposed-to-be-mortal-enemy to the back of the bar, into his dad’s office, slamming the door behind him. “Fucking stop looking at me like you’re going to kill me! You’re convincing no one that you’re seducing me!”

“Maybe that’s a good thing!” Geralt half-shouts. “Maybe if I can’t seduce you, they’ll pull me out of this operation and things can go back to normal!”

“No, they fucking can’t! Cause if I can’t seduce you, my dad’s gonna have your head because you’re the worst fucking undercover cop in the history of the FBI!”

“I could just leave! I could walk out of here and never show my face again! Problem solved!”

“No! He’ll just track you down and kill you anyways, you mud-for-brains idiot!”

“Then what do you suppose we do? You pretend you’ve seduced me and then what? We can’t fucking keep this up forever!”

Jaskier frowns, thinking for half a second. “Then you just out yourself as an undercover cop and say you’ve switched sides! There! End of discussion, problem solved!”

“But I won’t switch sides!”

“It doesn’t fucking matter whose side you’re on if you’re dead!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward!”

“I already am!”

Jaskier blinks. “Fair enough.” He laughs when Geralt leans against the wall and almost knocks a painting off its hook.

He stalks forward. “Gods, Geralt, you’re so fucking stupid.” He grabs his boyfriend by the back of his neck, pulling him closer, smashing their lips together.

Geralt groans in surprise, but immediately kisses him back, pulling Jaskier flush against his chest.

The door to the office opens, and Jaskier pulls back, meeting eyes with his dad, who’s standing in the doorway. 

“My apologies,” the patriarch says, “I didn’t realize you two were... busy.” He closes the door behind him.

“Right,” Jaskier mutters, as Geralt laughs softly. “Problem solved, I guess.”

[thrillsxchills]

{TW} Orion is obviously one of my more demented children and his whole life is a trigger warning, so please avoid reading this if your triggers contain the following -- depression, abandonment, hallucinations, drugs, violence, substances abuse, blood, abuse/mental & physical, bullying, self harm+un-alive thoughts, dissociating. (That’s a lot & i’m sorry but Orion has a HISTORY.)

Orion is my first and oldest baby I’ve had. He’s developed A LOT over the years, but for the new members I’m going to start all the way from the beginning so enjoy this looong ride. People like Z and Ali remember big bad old orion, that was something 😅

(tw; about death)Orion was an odd kid growing up, he had an usual obsession with death and creepy things. Cemetery's, bugs, and the supernatural. It was hard to make friends with other kids because of his unusual interests and the fact that his family was high class and his father wouldn’t let Orion associate himself with ‘poor people’.

(tw: family abuse) Orion hated and still hates his father with a passion. Nothing Orion ever did impressed his father. He rarely took interest in his one and only son. He only seemed to show up to physically abuse Orion over the smallest things. Orion’s only friend as a child was his mother, she was literally his saving grace.

{tw: abandonment/dissociating) Orion’s mother Cora is sweet and angelic like. However from his father's abuse she became numb and seemed to dissociate often. But Orion still took comfort in his mother's arms. Until one day his mother couldn’t take it anymore. While she wanted to take her son with her, she couldn’t. Orion’s dad’s family was the one with all the money. Cora had nothing to her name. If she took Orion he wouldn’t have a home or all the opportunities that money offered. So she left and it took everything she had left to do it.

(tw: abuse) Once Cora left the picture Orion’s fathers abuse only became worse. Taking out his wifes disappearance out on Orion. Screaming at the top of the lungs asking where Cora was. Orion didn’t know, he was just as clueless as his father but he didn’t believe him.

(tw: substance abuse) that’s when Orion started using drinking and smoking as a coping mechanism from a young age. He’d smoke any chance he got hiding the buds in his dresser drawer and his whiskey bottles in the boxes of his old shoes. It was his only escape from his shitty reality and his father.

(tw: reason for living) that all changed when Jakob Skellington came into the picture. They met at school and formed a quick lasting bond. Orion confided all his secrets and hobbies within Jakob and the boy never judged him. Orion finally found a best friend and a reason for staying alive at that point in time. Problem was their families had a long lasting feud over something stupid. So the two were banned from seeing each other. That didn’t stop them however. The two would sneak to each others house in the middle of the night or sneak off to hang out at Hallow Falls cemetery.

(tw: abandonment/bullying) however the friendship didn’t last long as intended. Because Jack was Orion’s only friend he became possessive over their relationship. Especially when Serena & Zeke entered the picture. They were getting to close to Jakob and Orion hated it. He began to loathe the two. So Orion did the only thing he knew how to do which is what he learned from his father. He began to bully Serena and Zeke to the point that Jack had to step in and defend Zeke and Serena. This felt like a betrayal to Orion. So Orion made an ultimatum. It was him or the two friends Jack barely knew. Jack chose them and Orion has held a resentment ever since. Quickly turning to the Teague's and using them to bully Zeke and Serena through them.

(tw: violence/blood/ suicidal thoughts) now entering his high school years Orion felt abandoned. He had no one but himself. Sure he had the Teagues but he felt that friendship was only extended because they did his bidding in exchange for things. Orion began skipping school more, starting fights for the hell of it. A couple of those fights he almost couldn’t walk away from him. Leaving his body beaten and bloodied in the back ally. Tiffani & Hallie nursed him back to health. But that didn’t stop him. He continued to get black out drunk and start fights. He wanted to feel something/and nothing all at the same time. He wanted to die.

(tw: substance abuse /hallucinations) Orion really thought he was going to die, he was drinking so much that he barely hanging onto his acceptance into Walt by a thread. His father kept bribing the school with money to keep him enrolled. He was known to students as the boogie man/feared by most people except a girl named Hallie. She tried to get him to be a better person. Which it didn’t happen all at once, it was slow. But once Orion realized all the people who had been hurt by his actions. his reality soon came crashing down. He began hearing things. like actual voices talking him. telling him that he was worthless, that he couldn’t be anything more than a monster. he could barely sleep without drinking himself to sleep. he even sought out a pastor to see if his soul was worth redeeming. Here is a self para about that time [SELF PARA HERE] Here is another self para about reuniting with his mother and standing up to his father. [READ HERE] read at viewers own discretion.!

(tw: trauma) It took time but he began to heal from his trauma. Does that mean he’s a better man now? Not exactly, but he knows how to control his temper and not to completely act on his impulsive anger issues that were handed down from his father. He’s not bad, but he’s not good either. He’s reunited with his mother and already forgiven her. He didn’t hesitate that was his mom after all. Him and his father only meet up if they have too after having their showdown a couple of years ago, which is how Orion prefers it anyway. Certain things still trigger Orion but for the most part he’s charming as hell but still intimidating as fuck. He only gets his  hands dirty when he needs too.

OKAY! So that’s a lot and that’s the best I can summarize about my boys development over the last six years! Now for some light hearted head canons,yeah? I think I need therapy from writing all that.

(tw: smoking) you will never see Orion without a cigarette in his hand/mouth. from a young age smoking became a comfort. he doesn’t need it as much as he did back then but its more of a security thing now.

he has a lucky lighter he won from a bar fight. it’s a red zippo lighter in the shape of two pieces of dice. Snake eye’s to be exact.

because of his interest in bugs and reptiles he has a black snake tattoo the looks like its wrapped around his forearm. looks something like this [IMAGE HERE] 

Older Orion has a small tattoo on each of his fingers representing his children. A bat for Axel, Nova is a star, Sage for Sage (but looks more like a flower), and the moon for Draco.

Orion enjoys being isolated/alone that’s when he feels most like himself. despite his background Orion does quite  well in social situations. he adapts to new environments easily and can be quite charming if you’re on his good side.

Orion prefers the more expensive liquor since that's what he grew up with but his favorite and comfort drink is whiskey with ice.

When Orion is alone he enjoys reading/learning about new topics. He’s well educated but most people don’t experience that side of him.

he hates the holidays, for obvious reasons. doesn’t mind Halloween though.

he has a hate/love relationship with the Teague siblings. Logan annoys the hell outta of him, Beckham is stand-offish and Sadie is the only one he truly gets along with. But deep down their Orion’s only friends and he appreciates them. Will he tell them that? Not until hell freezes over.

Orion’s zodiac sign is Sagittarius

Orion doesn’t keep up with his casino daily- the assets yes, but the actual place no. However he does show up every once in awhile to cheat people out of their money. What can i say he’s a gamblin man.

.Spoken Word/Singing is Orion’s favorite music genre. he’ll go to the grave denying that but he relates to a lot of the bands like la dispute, hobo johnson, front porch step. But he enjoys most kind of music. His most recently played song is Self Care by Mac Miller. [LISTEN HERE]

Now when it comes to Sadie Teague things are different. She’s the only person that really challenges him. He admires her perseverance and her will to do things on her own. Their relationship is complicated. Friends? Friends with Benefits? But his feelings are starting to get intertwined, but how to express feelings he’s never felt before?

favorite color is red

Vitani also intrigues him/she’s not annoying like regular happy go lucky people. He enjoys her company, maybe he’ll ask if she needs a job at the casino.

[one-pic-of-xiaozhan-a-day]

regard the incident involve fandom of Xiao Zhan in China

i send my sincere apologizes to the anons asking, but i really didn’t have time to actually summarize it until now.

i don’t want this to be a drama blog, so i will only post this once and will never mention it again, since ignorance isn’t bliss to me, but i won’t ever mention this again on this blog or answer question regards this, again.

please read the incident below:

as you know, Mainland China is very strict about content that has anything to do with the LGBT theme. danmei isn’t an exception.

there’s this bilibili platform (which is basically youtube for china), where people post fanmade mv. chenqing ling fandom does this too (which involves the ship Lan Zhan - Wei Wuxian and/or Wang Yibo - Xiao Zhan), and A PART of Xiao Zhan fandom in China disagrees with how Xiao Zhan is portrayed in those fanmade mv. so they start a campaign that mass-reporting those mv. the same goes for AO3 (yes, the AO3 that we all know) and Lofter, where people post their work, that of course include same-sex shipping.

so this part of the fandom PUBLICLY declared that they would start mass-reporting fanmade mv on bilibili and fanfic on AO3/Lofter that has Xiao Zhan in. this triggers the government to start taking down A LOT of the fanmade mv that involves same-sex shipping on bilibili, and chenqing ling is only a very small part of it. a lot of work written in Chinese that have LGBT elements on AO3 also vanished/became unaccessible. that means, the mass-reporting affected the whole fandom community of China, not only Xiao Zhan/ Chenqing Ling fandom. (yes, even unrelevant ships like Thor/Loki for example got removed too, as long as it has same-sex relationship content).

Chinese government has always been VERY strict with this theme. all the fandom in China has been walking on a thin line this whole time, and everything has been good so far, until this incident. that’s why people are angry about this.

the consequences include people boycotting the brands he advertises, boycotting his future project, petitioning to replace him on a gameshow, reminding of this incident everyday on his “wall” in weibo (wall function somewhat like a hashtag on twitter) etc. they want him out of the entertainment world.

what i’m sad about this is it’s the fandom fault, but he is the one that will have to shoulder its consequence. the other fandoms have absolutely right to be pissed about this, and since they can’t direct their anger at fans who are responsible for it (reports are mostly done anonymous), they will pinpoint it on Xiao Zhan, the idol.

what we can do now as international fan? i believe a lot of us hasn’t been informed about this, but i hope with this post everyone has a quick view on the situation. it’s the fandom fault, and he’s shouldering it. what we can do is make sure he won’t shoulder it alone. unfortunately it won’t help by buying the product he advertises if you don’t live in Mainland China. the only thing i can think of now is keep spreading the love for him, and support his upcoming projects. don’t start/join in any arguments regards the incident, don’t try to protect the fandom, since the fandom is in the wrong for mass-reporting thing, without thinking of the consequences.

thank you a lot for reading this, and i hope everyone will continue to support him in the future. because though i don’t post as frequent as before, i will be here, i will be posting about him. i’m not confident enough to name myself anything, but i will use this small blog as a way to show my support. i hope i can walk with you guys on this same path in the future.

i have always believe in Xiao Zhan, and i will continue to do so.

tl;dr: there’s none, please read everything to have a grasp of the situation since it’s every serious. thank you.

p.s. i’m also very sorry for the typos, writing about this just makes me so emotional. please tell me if i made any mistake, thank you.

[thistangledbrain]

Ok y’all, I’m sorry I’m having to catch up! We got a new foster in a few days ago - a particularly broken soul - and my mind has been *entirely* on him. But he’s settling in a little now, so here’s the last 3 days in one post ☺️

Autism Acceptance Month

Day 10!

“Sensory Life”

This is sort of hard to describe, but I’ll try! This is different from the next entry about stims, though both are sensory related.

It’s like being on microdosed ‘shrooms *all the time*. If you don’t know what that’s like, I’ll try to describe (this is collaborated with a friend who regularly does this - I don’t...it would probably be far too overwhelming).

Colors are far sharper to me & I emotionally react to them far more than most people. That results in some colors being genuinely offensive - not just “I don’t like that color”, but it will make me intensely angry or physically sick. This makes me curious about chromotherapy, but I haven’t really looked into it that much. My tolerance of certain colors can ebb and flow depending on my emotional state/mindset. (This crap is so sharp, I’m actually getting a twinge of irritation just *thinking* about my most hated colors LOL 😂 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Textures/skin sensations are another big one. (By now you may be asking, how TF did this chick manage Marine Corps training/exercises?!) I guess if you want something bad enough, you can shut down some of the overwhelming aspects of the sensory thing...this ability to disassociate probably isn’t what NT’s would call “healthy”, but it’s quite handy if you’re autistic, and those of us who have been through real trauma seem to be especially skilled with our ability to just shut off all circuits and “embrace the suck”). Like...I’ll nearly panic to get out of a store or something if my underwear starts feeling uncomfortable, but I’ve literally been soaked head to toe, covered in mud and sand in my *everywhere* (and I HATE SAND anywhere but on my feet) AND I pissed myself, because nobody’s gonna stop shooting/training just because you have to go potty 🙄), and I remember literally giving zero fucks about it...so it really is entirely a mindset thing. But let’s talk about when I’m NOT in “Marine mode” (cuz let’s face it, it’s been close to two decades since I got out, and I no longer HAVE to tolerate overwhelming sensations).

Sensory input is just basically dialed to 11 & the knob’s been snapped off. Bright lights, loud discordant noises, too much touching/not touching the right way, things like that. I am particularly sensitive about body hair (my own). I *strongly* prefer to have my head shaved on the back and sides (but I leave the top long). The only time I haven’t done this, was in the Marines (it was considered “eccentric” and not allowed, so they made me grow it out). Even though I leave the main part long, it’s *always* in a bun or ponytail - well, unless I’m super dressed up for something, but even then I prefer some sort of updo. Despite the fact that I like my long hair (well on the top anyway), I can’t *stand* the way it feels on my neck or especially my face - I HATE IT when my hair touches my face. If I wasn’t married...there’s a decent chance I’d just shave it all off and be done with it LOL 😆 My ponytail pulled through the back of a baseball hat is I guess what they’d call my “signature look”.

And you think NT’s have bad misophonia? *I’ve jumped out of a moving vehicle before* to get away from the noise of someone chewing loudly/smacking their lips in the back seat (he was a coworker and punching him in the mouth - which is what I DESPERATELY wanted to do - would have gotten me fired 😕)...but humans eating, or dogs licking their junk, makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. It’s mostly humans though....you have *no idea* the level of self discipline it takes to keep me from either rage crying or actually getting violent around someone smacking their mouth during a meal. I *cannot* be around my husband when he’s eating breakfast cereal even though he’s a very mannered eater - I don’t know why, but it’s *so loud* (and I’m terribly hard of hearing) - it sounds like he’s chewing rocks. It took us years to work this problem out LOL - he thought it was dumb that I had such a deeply emotional reaction. Then he tried to “chew quietly”, which all that did was slow down the rock tumbler inside his mouth 😂...gradually, for everyone’s sanity, we realized that cereal eating should not be done in close proximity to each other lololol....and now, when it’s time for family meals around the table, I’ve learned to either keep the range hood fan going (white noise is definitely my friend), or have the TV on. If it’s just mainly the sound of everyone chewing, I simply won’t eat at the table. I lose my appetite. (And all of my dinner guests/family are very polite diners. It’s MY hangup.) Phone calls are another big one. I could probably come up with several reasons why I hate it...I LOATHE it. This is one sensory hangup some people in my family just refuse to accept. I don’t think they realize I equate unexpected or immediately demanded phone calls to running naked though a mall or getting a root canal. Hissssssssss!! Give me some time to prepare myself for this shit please - you’re actually asking a *lot* from me. (And when I do have a call? Ugh I babble and am so awkward, because I’m so effing uncomfortable, which I also hate.)

But here’s an area where my “sensory overload” serves me very well:

Dogs.

I am usually *intensely* dialed into the energy and body language of an animal, but particularly dogs. I’m *so* sensitive to them, that I often actually can feel things even happening behind my back - can basically sense the energy in the area shift. (Roughly 75% of the time. I’m spacey sometimes too LOL.) The work I do with “behaviorally challenged” dogs is the biggest area where I am *grateful* for my autistic mind. I don’t think I could really do the things I do without it, successfully. (I can do this to a large degree with people as well, as can my youngest son. You cannot lie to that boy about your feelings or mood.)

We all have different levels of sensory sensitivity and different triggers, but every autistic I know has several “sensory hangups”. It often is one of our biggest hurdles to deal with, when it comes to “normal functioning”. So, many of us constantly have headphones (or muffs) on, some of us wear sunglasses *all the time*, etc (I wear a baseball hat - and I genuinely don’t like going anywhere where I have to get dressed up and can’t wear my hat. Been like that since my early teens. That hat shields me from all sorts of real and imagined sensory triggers.) You do what you can to mitigate, you know? But my “microdosing shrooms” and “knob dialed to 11 and snapped off” is really the best way I can summarize. (And that’s not all bad - my trips into a new natural space, like the redwoods, is an absolute *thrill*. I also occasionally love sensory overload - many auties do - like rollercoasters. My youngest son and I can ride till we pass out LOL!) So sensory life is love/hate, really....but I don’t think I’d change much about it.

Except the fucking misophonia. I hate that I go into almost a murderous rage over someone just chewing food loudly 🤦🏻‍♀️ - but seriously. It’s impolite anyway. Don’t do it. 😆

———————————————————

Day 11!

Stims

This is one of the biggest areas where neurotypicals struggle to understand us.

We all have stims. Stims are basically any stimulus that brings us joy or comfort. It could be rocking, flapping, walking in tight little circles, clicking your fingernails together, spinning, making weird sounds or whistling, etc. And it’s usually repetitive - that’s the part that gets on people’s nerves.

I’ve found that most *women* hide most of our stims. We only let go and stim our little hearts out when we’re alone. I do that, because some of my stims grate on my husband. Sometimes I don’t WANT to feel “watched” anyway...I’ve noticed males don’t have quite the same issue with that.

I have quiet stims I do to soothe myself, and happy stims. One of my quieter stims when I’m trying to soothe myself (like in public) is clicking my teeth, particularly my right canines. I also have this silicone bite stick I wear around my neck sometimes, that I chew on (my sons like the bite sticks as well). I carry a little bag of fidget toys in my purse, to soothe myself with when I’m stressed. There’s a thing sort of like a fidget cube, a little cowrie shell and twine bracelet that I fiddle with almost like a rosary, a small stuffed axolotyl (her name is Blossom), and a few other toys. My little stash also comes in damn handy when I encounter a bored child LOL!

One of my sons makes funny little sound effects randomly (and he’s grown & still does it). The other used to randomly shriek when he was younger - then he learned how to whistle, so he couldn’t say a whole sentence without punctuating it with little whistles (we actually thought it was adorable).

My favorite stim is putting my headphones on, putting on some favorite music, sitting with my legs crossed, closing my eyes, and rocking. I’m happy to TELL you about this stim, but it’s one I do alone, because I like to get completely lost in it and I can’t do that if I feel I’m being watched...and you’ll damn near give me a heart attack if you touch me while I’m lost in that world. (And boy does it irritate me to get yanked out of that before I’m ready, for some bullshit non emergency reason.) Better to just isolate myself (except my dogs are always with me). Another one I do alone - and I have no idea why i like it so much - is squeaking my bite stick across my teeth. (This one is weird to me because I usually HATE my teeth being touched...yes dentists are a problem.) This one I enjoy doing kind of mindlessly while I read, but damn would it irritate anyone in listening distance LOL...I mean, it would irritate the shit out of ME if someone else was doing it, because *other people’s* repetition, especially if it makes noise, gets on my damned nerves. 🙄 Figures lmao!

Stims can be damaging sometimes, though. Like I used to twist and twirl my hair when I was younger so much that the areas I usually grabbed were frayed and broken (I also chewed my hair sometimes). One stim I cannot break myself of even though sometimes it’ll make me bleed, is chewing the insides of my cheeks or my lips. That’s my most frequent (several times a day) one, and the one that is both gratifying *and* soothing. It’s also the one that’s hardest to suppress.

Some auties are either unaware or literally don’t care how you feel about their stims, but I am and do. I’d like to think I’m pretty “appropriate” *most* of the time with my stims and other people around, except the lip/cheek chewing. If my husband notices I’ve gotten pretty furious about it (even using my hand to push my cheek into optimal biting position), he’ll gently put his hands on mine to bring me back to awareness - if I’m gnawing away, I’m either super stressed or way lost in thought. Either way, I can accidentally hurt myself, so he gently guides me away/distracts me.

Stimming is an important part of Autie life and should not be discouraged unless it hurts Your Pet Autie ™️.

And if you’re looking for a neat gift for an Autie? They actually make stim toy packs. Get them one, they’re fun. ☺️ (Most stim toys are designed to withstand being put in mouths and bitten/chewed, too - LOTS of us have oral fixations.) And hey, even if you’re a NT, try stimming sometime (lots of normal people have stims, they just don’t realize that’s what they are - like nail biting. Bite your nails a lot? Get a bite stick!! God they’re so satisfying!)....

Happy stimming!

———————————————-

Day 12!

“Favorite Autism Charity”

This one is short and easy: ASAN. Autism Self Advocacy Network.

“The Autistic Self Advocacy Network is a nonprofit organization run by and for individuals with autism. According to its mission statement, the Network’s goal is ‘to empower autistic people across the world to take control of our own lives and the future of our common community, and seek to organize the autistic community to ensure our voices are heard in the national conversation about us.’”

————————————————-

Day 13!

“Family”

Well that’s kinda ambiguous, isn’t it? 😒

I’ll start with this tack:

Being an autistic mom with autistic kids.

I mean for years, none of us KNEW LOL - and maybe that’s what took me so long to get around to pursuing a formal diagnosis for my youngest. To me, for the longest time, he was just sensitive and different like me (same with my oldest, for the most part, but I’m pretty sure that was me buying into the “brilliant people are just fucking weird ok” mindset also), yannow? So it was like, “well mama always told me I’d have one like me & then know what I put her through” 🙄 My oldest got lumped into the “all bright kids are quirky” category - but as I learned about ASD through my youngest and myself, it became damn obvious the oldest was also in our camp. (He’s taken the prelim test now anyway, but is not formally diagnosed.) I genuinely believe that our “shared weirdness” binds us very tightly to each other - and I’m super pleased about that.

It brought a whole new level of understanding and awareness within our little family when we realized it was ASD I guess - and acceptance. (I 100% believe that diagnosis - or even affirmation - is critical to our self acceptance and understanding.) I wouldn’t trade my little family for anything, and consider myself remarkably blessed. I can talk about how complex and brilliant my boys are ALL day (and often do LOL). Hubby is neurodivergent, and can identify with (or at least sympathize with) MANY of our hangups....but he’s “normal” enough that he’s been able to guide us (mostly me) with things like how to use tact (not often a skill we naturally possess lmao). My heart breaks when I read posts by auties whose families either don’t understand or don’t accept them & are constantly trying to basically mute who they are. Auties “live out loud”, and some people find that off putting. I know growing up, I was constantly getting my ass chewed for being “dramatic” or too sensitive, too, so I shut down and hid my sensitivity far, far away. I’m only *lately* (last few years) discarding that silly tough girl mask. (I can still be quite the little wolverine at times, but I’m not afraid to show my soft sensitive actual self anymore...to stay soft in today’s fucked up world takes actual courage - a lot of it - and strength. I was looking at the concept of being “strong” entirely the wrong way.)

I swear my husband has lived with nearly as many phases and facets, as years we’ve been together. Sometimes I ask him if this ever bothers him. He says no, because who I am at my core never changes...and he grins and says “and you damn sure aren’t boring” 😂

But since I’ve known I’m autistic, I’ve given myself more freedom to discover who I am without these socially dictated parameters. And permission to be precisely who I am, without cringing apologies when the real me shines through awkwardly.

And my husband and boys have been there every step of the way, embracing me, as we do with them. ♥️

Yeah. I love my family. We’re some pretty cool people. 😁

[eldri-sv]

3 - Aizawa

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people's minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa's TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country...

AU, OC x Aizawa

Trigger warnings: mentions of death and murder

(possibly incomplete, if you’d like something added, please let me know)

Pick your path and I'll pray

(Fleetwood Mac - Gold Dust Woman)

"So, to repeat some of our main points. Why is it just as important to have a profile of the victim as having a profile of the perpetrator?"

Aizawa let his eyes wander through the rows of students. Most of them were still jotting down notes. One student had her hand up. Aizawa acknowledged her, but decided to ignore her hand. He knew that she would have the answer - and she'd also have the best answer possible. Precise, to the point and entailing all the things he wanted to hear. He would not call on Kaori Shinsou right now.

His eyes stopped at a student chewing on her pencil and looking like she was focusing on something she had written down. She wasn't. Aizawa knew exactly that she was hiding her phone behind her book and was texting someone. He could see the damn reflection in her glasses.

"Nishiyama. Enlighten us." he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shinsou drop her hand and shoot Nishiyama an annoyed glance. He didn't show any sign that he had noticed, but inwardly he smiled. He got some strange kick out of her annoyance about someone else being called on.

He focused on Nishiyama again. She looked taken by surprise for a second, but quickly got a hold of herself. She put down her pencil and looked straight at him, not breaking eye contact. He had caught her and she knew that he knew. He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for an answer.

"Uhm... the victim profile... well, it's important to find out why the perpetrator chose a certain victim... establish a motive." she answered and gave him a smile full of fake confidence. Aizawa nodded.

"Correct. But incomplete. Miss Shinsou, you wanted to answer up, didn't you?" he replied without looking at her. He could hear some movement from the other side of the room, as he turned to look at her. She had a smile on her face and leaned back in her chair, a pencil between her thin fingers.

"Yes, Sir. We need victim profiles to assist with contextualizing allegations of victimization and to help support or refute allegations of victimization. It is also needed to help establish the nature of a victim's exposure to harm or loss. We don't only care about the perpetrators, we also care about their victims. Victim profiles help to establish an investigative suspect pool and they can help with linking unsolved crimes. And of course, as Nishiyama already mentioned, they can give information on an offender's modus operandi and on his motive." she explained, as if she had known all this all her life. If Aizawa had to name anyone that was going to be a promising Criminal Psychologist later on in life, it would be her. Kaori Shinsou.

"Excellent, Shinsou. It seems you actually prepared for the lesson today. I wouldn't expect any less from you." he commented. For a second there was a wholehearted smile on her face, as she heard his praise. She quickly composed herself and nodded with a neutral expression, as Aizawa noted with a hint of disappointment.

"Now, there are two types of exposures linked to crime. Anyone want to summarize what they are?" he asked the class. Of course Shinsou's hand was up again. She had gotten her time to shine already, however. No matter how much Aizawa enjoyed hearing her eloquently summarize what he just taught them.

"Kawano." he said. Kawano was a tall and lanky young man, who was usually dragging behind the rest of the class. His problem was how easily he got distracted. He could be reading a chapter in the textbook ten times and he'd only really get half of it. Aizawa didn't like judging anyone as a hopeless case, but he was very much inclined to do so with Kawano.

"Lifestyle exposure and situational exposure. Lifestyle exposure are potentially dangerous choices in a victim's everyday life because of biological and environmental factors and past choices. Victim situational exposure is the amount of actual exposure to harmful elements experienced by the victim that results from their environment or their personal traits at the time of the victimization." he answered.

"Very good, Kawano." Aizawa replied with a nod. Kawano's face lit up. He had trouble paying attention, but when he managed to stay focussed enough and get praise it usually gave him a very good confidence boost. Aizawa made a mental note of trying to use that to his advantage. Kawano maybe wasn't the best of his students, but he had a way with people, especially when the situation required empathy. It would be a shame to let that talent go to waste.

"We have not much time left, so here's the last one. Can anyone give me seven factors that affect the exposure and vulnerability of a victim?" he asked. He hadn't even noticed how quickly the time was passing. He found it too interesting to watch his students when they were put on the spot like this. He enjoyed seeing Shinsou's hand shooting straight up in the air almost any time he asked a question.

"Uehara, Kawano, Kendo, Suzuki, Takei, Hado and Shinsou. One each, in this order. Make it quick, we don't have all day." he said.

"The time the crime is committed."

"The location."

"If there are any potential offenders around, as in criminal, violent and aggressive individuals."

"Whether any criminal activity is taking place in the proximity."

"Drug and alcohol use."

"How easily weapons are available."

"Victims state of mind or the perception of that as witnessed by bystanders before, during or after an attack."

"Good work, everyone. Class dismissed. Remember your assignments for next week. I also want you to look at chapter seven of your textbooks and questions 1-5. Take some notes, if you don't feel confident on the content." Aizawa said, wondering how many students had actually heard what he had said. Most of them were busy packing up their things and leaving.

"Shinsou, would you mind staying for a few minutes? I'll need to have a word with you." he said, as some of the students had already left. Whenever he had a student staying after class, Aizawa tried not to make a big deal out of it. He knew well enough himself what it felt like to be told to stay behind.

Kaori Shinsou glanced up at him, a concerned look on her face. Aizawa wondered whether he should let her know that she was not in trouble, but he figured that she'd find out soon enough. When he didn't react to her worried look, she quickly brushed a strand of her dark hair out of her face and continued packing up her books and notes.

Aizawa retreated behind his podium and looked at his laptop. There were two new emails, one of them related to the case from this morning. He decided to look at that later, checking his calendar instead. He knew he had planned to meet up for lunch with some people, but he just couldn't remember when and where...

"Mr. Aizawa?" he heard a calm voice ask. He glanced over the screen of his laptop and saw Shinsou standing there, a nervous look on her face.

"Just a second. Don't worry, you're not in trouble." he told her and went back to his calendar. Oh, there it was. Lunch with Kayama and Yamada at the Udon place three streets further. He did have a bit of time before that, maybe just enough to have a look at those emails. He almost debated letting Shinsou have a look at some of the evidence. He was curious to hear her opinion.

But it was an ongoing investigation (even though it had been ongoing for years and a fresh perspective might be helpful) and it wasn't up to him to involve one of his students in this, no matter how good she was at what she was doing. He glanced back at her. She was busy adjusting the strap of her bag that was slung around her shoulders. She didn't seem to notice him looking, so Aizawa took the chance to take a longer look at her.

She looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes. He'd scold her for not getting enough sleep, if he wasn't himself guilty of that. There were some light freckles showing on her cheeks. Her eyes were dark and looked even bigger due to how pale she was. She had dark hair that had a somewhat purple tint, but was leaning more towards black. It was tied up in a ponytail, but a few strands of hair always managed to escape. Her hands were petite, but with long and slender fingers. There were ink stains all over them. Shinsou was a great student, but she could be sloppy as hell.

"Sir?" Aizawa heard her say. He looked away from her hands and into her eyes. She still seemed nervous. Poor thing.

"Sorry, I was lost in thought." he replied. She nodded.

"What is this about, Mr. Aizawa?" she wanted to know.

"Two things. Firstly, this is about your assignments." Aizawa replied. Shinsou sighed. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I know, Mr. Aizawa. I'm trying, really, but when I start them and I see them there, I just can't seem to get into them anymore. Are they really that bad when I do them last minute?" she asked. Aizawa felt a little pang in his heart when he saw how desperate her eyes looked. This whole procrastination issue was really bothering her, huh?

"They're not bad at all, Miss Shinsou. Your assignments are perfectly fine. They regularly exceed my expectations. What I'm worried about is that you seem extraordinarily stressed any time there are several exams due. You're less focussed during those days and I'm concerned that it will influence your performance in the long run." he explained. There really wasn't anything wrong with her assignments, at least not the ones in his course. He had heard that some assignments in other courses had been suffering, however, and that wasn't something he'd let slide that easily.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'll try my best to get my brain to work earlier than the night before the assignments are due." she said with a smug grin.

"You're my best student, Shinsou. I'd hate to see you struggle to keep that up." he replied, taking in how her lips curved with that smug expression on her face. He had to admit that she was objectively attractive.

"Of course, Sir. What was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked. Aizawa looked down at the time on his laptop. He'd still have enough time to explain the whole thing. Good.

"I've seen you applied to be a teacher's assistant next year. I'm not really looking for anyone, but I'd like to take you on as a TA. I think it might help you with your procrastination and it could give me some time to catch up on sleep. What do you think?" he suggested. Aizawa had never had a need for a teacher's assistant. In his opinion they were causing more problems than they were solving. He trusted that other people could do a good job of things, but he didn't trust other people to do his job well. He would make an exception for Kaori Shinsou, however.

"Sure, if you really wouldn't mind. You know this is my best subject and I really would appreciate the extra insight into it." she replied, looking at him cautiously, as if she was expecting him to be joking.

"Good. I'll talk to the Principal about this. I've been put in charge of one of the classes for basic training, first years. I'll have to take them to a specific search and rescue training on Wednesday and since I'll be stuck with them until the end of their 3-year training, I thought it might be a good idea for you to accompany me. As a TA you'll most definitely help with their lesson planning and their papers, so getting to know them a little might be a good idea. And you'll be having that day off anyway, so unless you have other plans..." he trailed off. God, he wasn't used to talking so much.

"Are you... are you sure that's okay? Me coming with you?" she asked. He just shrugged. He didn't know if it was technically okay and he didn't particularly care. No one would kick up a fuss about it, not if she was there with him.

"It'll be fine."

"Yeah, that does sound good. It will be interesting to see some extra rescue training, since the one we did in Criminology wasn't that extensive." she replied. There was a hint of excitement in her voice and her eyes lit up as she talked about it. Apart from that she seemed almost indifferent.

"Great. I'll send you the details via email then. That's all. Now head out and get some lunch, Shinsou." he said to her. She nodded and smiled a little.

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa. I'll see you around." she replied and headed out of the classroom.

[marshmallowgoop]

Brand New Animal...

So, the last few episodes of BNA: Brand New Animal dropped on Netflix Japan last week. I was initially really hyped for this anime—I devoted several hours of my life to translating and summarizing the Winter 2020 Otomedia interview concerning it—so I intended to write a lot more about the series, especially upon a wider release.

But having now seen every episode, this is another Kiznaiver and Darling in the Franxx for me. There’s a lot of potential, and I was incredibly invested at the start, but the narrative quickly goes directions and makes decisions that don’t sit well with me at all.

For those interested in BNA, my (mostly?) spoiler-free opinion is that it’s visually beautiful (especially in regards to its colors), but the story feels scattered, and there’s so little time devoted to positive interactions among the leads that their friendships fall flat. Further, speaking as a very character-oriented person, I finished this anime annoyed at the entire main cast. Their growth comes across as dissatisfying and undeserved.

Of course, it is more than worth noting that my understanding of Brand New Animal is indeed limited at this point; I don’t have much of a grasp on Japanese, there are no official English translations yet, and I watched with Japanese subtitles. (At least until episode 12. While there are thankfully subtitles available now, there weren’t when I watched, which is a huge disappointment in terms of accessibility.)

I recognize that my feelings may very well change if I have a better sense of everything that’s being said. But given what I do know, I—at least at the moment—have no desire to rewatch this series. I’m always open to requests to talk about BNA, but I don’t think I’ll be blogging much about it otherwise.

All that said, I do want to share some spoiler thoughts under the cut. As my sister noted, I am “very upset about this furry anime.”

First things first: I cannot stand Nazuna. I’m sorry. I think it’d probably be too much to say that she soured the whole show for me, but she definitely comes close.

Now, I got a (minor) degree in Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, so, yes, I can’t help but wonder if my strong negative feelings are related to sexism. Would I feel so strongly if there were a man in Nazuna’s place? There’s been a lot of investigating myself these last few days, let me tell you.

Still, I can’t say I know the answers. But I do have some Thoughts that are maybe best illustrated with another anime I’ve started watching lately: My Hero Academia.

Do note that I’m only on Season 2, but there are also characters I strongly dislike so far in My Hero—characters who are arguably much worse than Nazuna, as far as their actions and behavior go. Bakugo is an angry, abusive bully, while Mineta sexually harasses women. I hate both of them, but—especially regarding Bakugo—it’s a different kind of hate than what I feel for Nazuna.

Why? Well, I won’t deny the possibility that sexism plays a role, but there’s also a profound difference in how these characters are treated by their stories. Bakugo initially gets away with his bad attitude, but upon coming to high school, he’s a pariah. He’s called out for being a jerk, time and time again. Mineta, similarly, is not adored for his actions. These aren’t nice dudes, and the narrative makes this point clear. Regarding Bakugo, I hate him, but it’s not exactly a bad kind of hate. Because I hate him, I’m rooting even harder for Deku to prove him wrong.

But what about Nazuna? She pretends to be another culture’s god, but much of BNA seems dedicated to treating her as a poor victim who was manipulated into manipulating others and needs to be rescued. While Nazuna’s situation is indeed a frightening one that I don’t at all intend to make light of, episode 6 makes abundantly clear that this girl adores masquerading as a goddess and fails to see any moral problem in tricking thousands of people into believing that she’s their savior.

And that, to me, is absolutely horrendous. Nazuna is not in kindergarten. She is not a small child still in the preoperational stage of development. She is an older teenager. I find it disconcerting to paint her as someone in a rough place who was simply desperate for love when she pointedly relishes her false godhood because it makes her feel like an idol. That is so unbelievably gross and disrespectful.

Of course, Nazuna truly doesn’t see what she’s doing as wrong, and I recognize that she is young. In the end, as I hope the Bakugo example highlights, my issues are really less about Nazuna herself and more about how she’s written and depicted. Just as there’s nothing inherently despicable about portraying a smug, selfish teenage boy in a cartoon, there’s nothing inherently despicable about portraying a smug, selfish teenage girl in another cartoon. But while Deku and Bakugo were also past friends just as Michiru and Nazuna, Deku never defends Bakugo’s awful behavior as Michiru does for Nazuna.

And that bothers me. Michiru—our protagonist and so the person viewers are pushed to empathize most with—never really seems to grasp just how disgusting Nazuna’s actions are. More importantly, neither does Nazuna herself. She’s instantly forgiven, and her dream comes true seemingly without any apology or understanding of wrong whatsoever.

Brand New Animal is filled to the brim with social commentary, but one message that stood out to me actually has nothing to do with the human/animal-human conflict. It’s instead that this cute girl never has to face the consequences of her actions because she’s cute.

I know, I know. This is some pretty over-the-top negativity. But I was so excited for this series. Especially considering the ending conflict around being “mixed” and “purebred,” I felt like BNA was an opportunity for writer Kazuki Nakashima to more thoroughly explore concepts he wanted to examine in Kill la Kill but didn’t because a talking outfit just ain’t gonna garner the same amount of sympathy as cute animal-humans. With my recent(ish) Wolf Children posting in mind, I also love that Brand New Animal ultimately pushes for diversity instead of away from it as I feel that film does, even if there are some... unfortunate implications along the way (that I don’t know if I’m personally capable of analyzing).

But 12 episodes simply couldn’t do this show justice. I’m supposed to care for a girl who calls being an animal-human a “disease” and never seems to really reconcile with how messed up that is? I’m supposed to care for a man who dismembers others in the name of “honor” and never seems to really reconcile with how messed up that is? I’m supposed to hope that two friends/lovers get back together when one is rude and dismissive towards the other for the majority of the show, and the other idolizes her and overlooks her truly terrible misdeeds?

Maybe I just don’t get it. Maybe I missed something (or a lot of things). But there is so much here that gets resolved too quickly or never receives the full exploration it deserves. As I said in the start, characters fall flat, their friendships fall flatter, and any good themes or messages that I do recognize in the series hardly impact me because the rushed development of the players soured my positive feelings for them.

I would have loved to see Michiru acknowledge that she’s in love with someone who does bad things. I would have loved a heart-to-heart where she admits this to Shirou, where he then admits that in his long life, there have been times when he’s been in the same boat. I would have loved to see Nazuna truly question her actions, where her declaration that she’s Nazuna instead of a cult leader actually means something because she’s recognized that she’s been wrong and is ready to be loved for herself, not someone she’s not. I would have loved to see a moment where Michiru expresses to Shirou that he shouldn’t control his violent tendencies for her approval but because it’s simply the right thing to do. The list goes on and on.

At the end of the day, I can admit my own garbage tastes. Bakugo is apparently the most popular My Hero character, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else express such a harsh opinion regarding Nazuna’s portrayal in BNA. Episode 5 of the show (with the baseball) seems to be its most adored entry, but I thought little of it. My favorite things in anime—and what I’m specifically looking forward to in Studio Trigger anime—are maybe anomalies.

But, gosh. I really wanted to love this.

[thenuanceddebater]

Personal Post: Why I Disappear

Alright. This has been a long time coming. This might be one of the most open, personal, etc. posts that I’ve made on this blog. I’m not going to hide anything (save for some identifying details), and I’m going to go through messy stuff like emotions and whatnot. So, I’m putting it under a read more. Please do not think that you need to read this if you don’t want to. 

When I first started this blog, I was in undergrad and almost failing out. I had some family issues going on with my grandfather (who is now deceased due to what I could charitably call medical malpractice to the point where it helped change a national procedural standard), and I was hurting. I didn’t have many (or really any) friends, and I needed something to vent to. I made an account to shout into the void – to post long content that wouldn’t ever really get popular or any traction whatsoever for my own benefit. I needed a place where I could yell at people and feel smart. I really didn’t think anything would ever happen, or that I’d even get like... 50 followers.  And then my content it kind of... did take off to  a degree. 

I wasn’t really prepared for that, but at the time it was really fun. I’ve got a bit of an obssessive/ addictive personality, and tumblr became an addiction. At first, that was okay. I was involved in the culture-war discourse, but not really taking it any more seriously than I took other things. I had a summer internship during summer 2016 where I would make tumblr posts when I didn’t have enough work to do, and enjoyed talking to some of the friends I made on this platform. Then it got bad. I started disagreeing with people on “my side,” the 2016 election happened and I felt isolated from the left and the right, and the alt-right started to become a real thing on this website. 

Charlottesville is what finally killed it for me. I saw so many people I had at least some respect for trotting out positions that were not only wrong, but odiously wrong. I had acquaintances, classmates, good friends who were affected there. Who were on the ground when it happened. And I know a lot more about Charlottesville than most people on this website. I got sick and tired of having to defend myself, of having people who didn’t know what they were talking about speak back on issues that they did not fully understand. At that point, tumblr became toxic for me. And it’s never really come back. It just took me a while to realize it. 

I deleted the tumblr app from my phone in fall 2017, and it’s never come back. I took what was originally intended to be a 3 month sabbatical from tumblr, and then realized that I didn’t want it back in my life. It had kind of... fulfilled its purpose, and I was on to new things. I got a job, and started studying for law school. Then I got into law school. Tumblr was the last place I made that announcement. I used the fact that I had “gotten busy” as an excuse, but that’s not fully accurate. Yes, I was and am very busy. But if I really wanted to, I could make time to post. Maybe not the pages, upon pages, upon PAGES that I used to. But something. What it really was is that I no longer wanted to. The way this website works, at least on the political side, pushed me away. 

Alright, now a MAJOR confession time. I have a lot of anxiety. As in, diagnosed “I went to therapy for a year to help deal with it” anxiety. I’m not in therapy anymore, and I cope with it pretty well (especially compared to some people I know and have a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for). I’m privileged in that regard. So many people have it worse. But, there are still certain things that trigger an immediate strong anxiety response. One of them is seeing that I have notes that aren’t just reblogs or likes. For some reason, when I see a number above that little lightning bolt (or when I saw the activity tracker go crazy on older tumblr) it just makes my heart start pounding. It’s not that I think I might be wrong. I still welcome correction and critique of my opinions. It’s not that I don’t want people to reblog my stuff, or comment on it. That’s (1) not my choice and (2) absolutely silly. 

It’s more that I’m anxious about how the response is going to make me feel. Some of the angriest I’ve been in recent memory is reading tumblr posts. The angriest I’ve been since the whole... grandfather who was like a father to me died due to medical malpractice thing was when I read a response to a post I made about genocide. The second angriest is when I read a response to a post about Charlottesville. The angriest I’ve been in recent memory is when I read that post that brought me back to the website where people were encouraging others to resist unlawful arrest and citing to a case that was outdated. 

I’m not an angry person. I don’t like annoying myself like that. But for some reason, I just can’t help myself sometimes. The number of times I’ve been annoyed enough to want to respond to something in recent memory is... quite high. Sure, there are times where I come back just because I want to check my messages, see something positive, or a question and then am inspired to write something. But that’s not what it usually is. Not really. It’s usually the educator/ elitist in me who wants to correct something that he sees as wrong. And when that thing is dangerously wrong or disingenuously wrong, well that creates some emotions considering that I like to believe that people operate in good-faith and this website really stretches that belief sometimes. And sometimes I can deal with that, and sometimes it really, really bothers me. 

I’ve also discovered that I really don’t get very much from tumblr. I used to use it as shouting to the void, and as an activity I could do other than just playing video games and procrastinating on my school work. Well, I do a lot of things now. I have a lot of friends now, and more school work and obligations to student organizations, law journals, my summer internships, etc. I used to use tumblr as a way to feel like I was smart. To feel like I mattered and that I could do great things. I have other ways of doing that, as well as a lot more internal self-esteem and external validation of that self-esteem. Back when I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I was a bad person. Now, I know I’m not, and am in fact a pretty good person. Back when I made my tumblr, I had no outlet for the intellectual energy other than my long-term girlfriend and school work. Now, I have so many outlets for that energy, that it’s honestly mindboggling. Oh, and I still have that same now very-long-term girlfriend (just in case anyone was curious. Our ten year anniversary is next year. I’m 25. I’ve been dating this woman for almost 40% of my life. And she’s honestly fucking amazing, brilliant, and I’m so damn lucky to have her.). It’s not like I’m starved for interaction or avenues to pursue anymore. When I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I’d fucked my life up to such a degree that I was never really going to be able to un-fuck it. Now, I’ve shown myself that I was wrong. I was really, really wrong. About a lot of things, but especially that. I’m not the same person as when I made my tumblr. Not at all. And that’s a really good thing. 

But when I go and look at some other people, some other blogs that I used to follow/ still follow (I’m not going to name names), I don’t see that kind of change. I see that they are still the same (or very similar) people. It’s been years. They’re talking about the same things, using the same words, etc. That’s... crazy to me. When I logged on to tumblr this fall and I saw that fucking Charlottesville was somehow still a debate topic, I just about lost it. There’s a post I made that accurately summarizes some of the emotions I felt, but really a lot of it was that this website is Neverland. If you stay here, you likely never grow up. All that happens is that the Wendys, Johns, and Michaels decide that they want to grow-up, and leave to go and do so. So, all that’s left are the Peter Pans and Captain Hooks engaged in constant warfare about the same things for weeks, months, years. And when a Wendy, John, or Michael decides to come back well. Neverland is still the same. Welcoming them back to the same fight that they remember from years ago – from when they were a different person. I don’t know why, but that’s just so damn sad to me. There’s a reason why my old bio said “just a human striving endlessly for the perfection that he can never hope to attain.” Because that’s what I do. And tumblr has kind of an... anathema to that and is antithetical to the concept. 

So, tumblr gives me little to nothing, pisses me off, and its never-changing or evolving nature makes me sad and goes against my very being. So, why come back at all? That’s... a damn good question. Not really sure that I can answer it. I suppose the answer has to be that there’s no good reason to come back, but that I will likely continue to do so anyway. Call me a masochist if you must, but sometimes there’s something that I want to share (or that I think the people who SOMEHOW still follow this dead-ass blog should know), or an idea that I think is useful, or I just so happen to type a “t” on my keyboard and tumblr gets pulled-up and I see something and decide to post on it, etc. and I come back. VERY temporarily. Only until I’m pulled away or driven away again. I think that’ll probably keep happening. At least to some degree. 

Will I ever come “back” like I was in undergrad or the summer before I got my job? I don’t know. Signs point to “no,” but I’ve been wrong before. I’ve been oh so very wrong before. And maybe I’m wrong about what tumblr gives me. Maybe I can have a healthy relationship with this website to the point where the reblogs don’t give me anxiety, and I’m not either sad or angry (to some degree) when I make a response. But right now, I really doubt it. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone, but that’s just where I am right now. 

So yeah. I think that’s it. I’ll be around temporarily right now (my internship has really good hours, and I’ve got time in the evenings before I game with friends and talk to my girlfriend to take a look at some things). But come the end of August, I’ll likely be gone again. Maybe even before that. I’m not going to close this blog (because I’ll likely be back again), but content or opinions are never going to be consistent. 

If anyone wants to talk, feel free to message me, send an ask, etc. Seeing as I’ve basically dumped a lot of stuff at once (and broken some of the wall separating “TND” from me as a person) I’m down to answer pretty much anything. 

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Two : Lost

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

While Red and Dapper search for safety, Blue wakes up, Dok needs help, and Anti channels his many unresolved issues into violence.

Trigger warnings for hospitalization, emotional abuse, blood, murder, and psychosis including catatonia.

 Section Two of Chapter Three: Lost

cest-mellow asked: does anyone else have a camera working besides red and dap?

You hear a yelp as the message finally sends, and Red’s face flashes back onto your screen, startled.

“Hey!” he cries. “You scared the hell out of me! Damn camera chooses now to turn on? Apparently even we don’t even have a camera working half the time.”

He is, as you summarize in about two seconds, in the middle of unlocking a big, fancy door to a house. Dapper is leaning on his shoulders, holding the camera Red gave him to distract him, his eyes unfocused and his mouth fixed in a strange, small smile.

nikkilbook asked: Hi Red. Missed you. Sorry I upset you last time we talked.

“Oh. Hi,” says Red. “Um, I’m sorry, I can’t even remember what when down. Don’t worry about it, I was upset already. Just don’t go saying anything that’ll confuse - that’ll confuse Dap, I mean. We’re good, my dude. Ow, Dap, your elbows are right on my spine, little man!”

Dapper smiles foggily and readjusts. He is slack and tired. Red has put his own hoodie on him to make sure his face stays hidden. The lock beneath Red’s hands clicks open and he lets out a small hiss of relief, getting to his feet.

“Where are we breaking into, Anti?” asks Dapper. “I thought you said we wouldn’t be mean to nice people anymore.”

“It’s Red, buddy. Come on, we just need to get some cash. Eat the rich and all that. I gotta be able to feed you.”

Anonymous asked: Red, you’re probably going to need to change your appearance soon. If people are looking, you’ll need to throw them off your trail.

“Oh, I know, I know,” groans Red, tugging Dapper inside the house. His little brother lets out a low whistle, admiring the shiny, pretty, enormous house around them.

“It’s just that I don’t think I’m allowed to change Dapper’s appearance. I’m not even sure I’m allowed to change my own, but Dapper? That’s Anti’s doll, he’s really really picky about how he looks! He picks out his outfit most every morning and brushes and cuts his hair and stuff. Even tells him when to clip his nails. I just need to keep him really hidden. But maybe I can buy us new clothes soon? Or do something about my… hair. I don’t think Anti would like it, but you might be right, it might be necessary. Ah, shit, why isn’t there any cash lying around here!”

Dap holds you as Red races around the house, tearing open drawers and bedroom doors. There’s plenty of jewelry and expensive clothes and shit, but he doesn’t need jewelry, he needs pesos.

“Aha!” you hear him shout from down the hall, and then, a moment later, a door opens on the other side of the house. Dapper gasps and stiffens, the camera shaky in his hands, but he doesn’t move.

cest-mellow asked: is someone else in the house?

Dapper shivers and clutches you to his chest. He doesn’t even know where he is. There are footsteps coming towards him. He hears Red go silent in the room down the hall.

spicydanhowell asked: red, go now, it's not worth it

Red peers out of the room and sees Dapper frozen in the middle of the living room. He tries to catch his attention, but Dapper looks suddenly very small and genuinely afraid, his hands asking softly for “Anti? Anti? Anti, where are you?”

“There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the house,” mumbles Red, pupils tiny in their irises. “They all went out… they all went out. I checked the whole family. I’m… not bad at breaking in to places, Dapper was just kidding. I’ve broken in to places before. It’s just cash. I just need to get some cash. For clothes and medicine and food and a place to sleep, a place to sleep. He has to have a place to sleep.”

He babbles in his uncertainty, his eyes flickering between Dapper in the living room and the window in the bedroom he’s just broken into. He has a couple hundred dollars worth of cash. Enough for maybe one night in a hotel and some food. He can’t keep getting the cops called on him. They’re just closing in and closing in. He can’t do this. He can’t do this.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap, you gotta get out of there, or hide, or something! At least until your big brother gets to you!

Dap blinks, reads, registers.

Suddenly he is scrambling to hide, darting behind a kitchen island and hunkering down, his hands desperate to get his knife out of Red’s hoodie, clutching it to his chest. His eyes flash, different emotions dart across his face; you do not know if he will be scared or aggressive if someone catches him here, but he does seem to be listening to you.

cest-mellow asked: red, do you see anyone there?

Red licks his lips and slides down the hall, peering out of the end of it.

There’s an old woman in a house-keeping uniform setting her stuff down by the door. He sees Dapper hiding his face in his hands in the kitchen. Anti’s useless little baby.

“Dap,” he whispers. “Dap.”

But Dapper doesn’t move.

In fact, Dapper isn’t moving at all.

You can barely see him breathing.

“No, no, no,” hisses Red, staring at the house-keeper coming closer. “Not now, Monochroma, not now.”

He pauses, chewing on his thumb.

“Okay, you know what? She’s old as fuck, I’m just going to grab him and run. Ready?”

immabethehero asked: Don't hurt anyone!!!

“I’ve killed a lot of people but never fucked up an old lady,” Red considers. “That would be bad. Even by Anti’s standards. Okay, maybe not, but even by my standards.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, Reds trying to signal you. Both of you, just stay hidden until you can get out of there--the place doesn't have anything you need anyway

Dapper doesn’t move. Dapper doesn’t look at you. You are sliding out of his hands. The emotion has slid off his face and he stares.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, move fast and grab him! Dap needs you.

“Yeah, fuck this, I’m so stupid, okay, fuck.”

He darts forward, low to the ground, but he still hears a shrill scream as the old woman turns around. Red just starts laughing. He can’t do fucking anything right. He can’t take care of Dapper. They’re going to get arrested and he’s going to freak the hell out and Dapper’s going to get shanked because he’s an aggressive, twitchy, confused little gringo with a psychotic disorder and no voice. Fuck, he needs help, he needs Anti, please, please, he wants to wake up from this nightmare.

Red scoops Dapper’s stiff, thin, abused little body into his arms and shoves back out the door, ignoring the frantic hollering of the woman behind him.

“Shit, Dap, you could grab onto me or something,” he groans, trying to readjust him. “You get that we need to fucking run, right? I wish Anti was here, I wish Anti would tell me what to do.”

He’s out on a busy street in broad daylight. He hopes she doesn’t run after him. He pulls the hood lower down over Dapper’s unmoving eyes, shielding him from the sun, and ducks down the street as fast as he can go with a little brother in the middle of an episode in his arms.

Anonymous asked: Keep running Red! Duck into any alleys if you can, and keep moving. Stay away from the public.

Spurred on, Red runs.

You are shoved in the side-pocket of his backpack and all you can do is sway back and forth, staring up at the sky, as he keeps on, panting and pounding his feet against the pavement and then, against the sand and the dirt of the outer city. The sky is darkening and soon it will rain. The memory of water pounding in against him, of fire roaring on the shores all around him, of Dapper’s body pressed to his own, numbly letting his little brother lead him through the Amazon, makes him shiver so hard his camera shakes.

He slows and slows as hours pass. Dapper weighs almost as much as he does and all his little brother can do is curl into his arms. You have yet to see him move at all. Occasionally, you hear Red whisper to him, but it is so soft you think perhaps he doesn’t mean for you to hear:

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He comes to a staggering trudge and finally stills and sits down beside the filthiest canal you’ve ever seen. He sinks down, exhausted, onto the soggy earth, and takes his sweatshirt off of Dapper’s shoulders, to make a blanket for his little brother to lie down on. Trash squishes beneath his feet and a mouse pitters away from him, indignant at the intrusion.

“Sorry, little buddy,” Red mumbles, sitting Dapper down on the sweatshirt and holding him by the neck.

“Dapper, can you hear me at all?”

There is no answer.

Dapper’s position has not changed from the curled-up ball it was hours ago on the floor of the rich man’s house. Red’s stomach drops.

“Dapper… Carver, Chroma. It’s big brother. Can you move at all? Can you hear me?”

He pulls Dapper’s hands away from his face. His eyes are open, staring at nothing. Red lets go of his hands and they stay stretched out towards the sky, but Dapper does not move, fixed like a mannequin in that position.

Chilled, Red grabs you to his chest and stares at his little brother, frozen stiff. You can feel his chest shaking.

“Needs his medicine,” whispers Red. “Needs his… but I still can’t… I can’t…”

Dapper is a clay statue, pliant and moldable, unmoving.

Eventually, Red just sits down beside him and wraps a careful arm around his shoulders.

“Will this pass?” he asks you in a low whimper. “What should I do? Is Anti coming to get us?”

Anonymous asked: Jameson Jackson! Your big brother needs you to move!

Red grimaces, closing his eyes. “Why don’t you just tell him to talk while you’re at it?”

Anonymous asked: Is there a way maybe we can get through to Anti, Blue, and Trick? I’m sure Anti is searching for the two of you.

“If you can,” whispers Red. “Please tell Anti I need him. But don’t… don’t bother Blue.”

Anonymous asked: Red we haven't tried contacting the others yet. Do you think it would be safer for them to come to you, or for you go to them? We'll help you as best we can, okay?

“I need him to come to me, please. I mean I - I could try to go somewhere, but I can’t get any money, and I can’t falsify records in the blink of an eye like he can. What I wouldn’t give for a working credit card or an airplane ticket coming out of the machine with my alias on it. Or a filled prescription, fuck, fuck!”

He grips at his hair, curling in on Dapper’s body a little. From here, with him so still and quiet, lying beside him, it’s easy to imagine it’s Blue beside him again, Blue’s hand in his own.

And then he remembers the look on his face as he left him with Anti.

“Red - Jackie - I’m afraid, please - ”

“Be good, Blue. I’ll see you again soon.”

Red grits his eyes and his teeth and heaves out a gasp of air. His free hand clutches the dog tags around his throat tight.

Anonymous asked: It’ll pass. Maybe try to act like Anti if he gets distressed...? But for now, make sure you’re safe and that theres no one around.

“It’ll pass, it’ll pass,” whispers Red, holding Dapper to his chest. By now, hot wet tears are filling up the lines of Red’s face, and you know his embarrassment by the way he raises and drops you, raises and drops you, like he cannot let you see. “It’ll pass. There’s no one around. There’s no one - ”

He grips tight, tight, at his hair, yanking for the comfort, hissing out breaths through his teeth.

Anonymous asked: Anti's looking, Red. But regardless of him, yes, this will pass. I know it's been really, really hard, and it feels like it's too much on your shoulders. Things have been really difficult lately. But you've been doing your best. I appreciate how hard you've been working. Until you can get some help, all you can do is take everything one step at a time. Okay? And you'll get there in time. So take a deep breath, center yourself. Just right now, what's priority number 1?

“Okay, okay, okay,” says Red. He raises and drops you, raises and drops you, faster and faster, pulling his hair. “Okay, okay. I’m doing my - I am, I - or now I am, if I wasn’t, I - I - one step, one step, one step, one step, one step. Okay. Now’s not the time for a breakdown, Roser, not now, not now!”

He strikes his chest once and blows air in and out of his mouth. “Okay, yeah! Priority number one, that… what should… I, um…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Right now, Red, you should focus on getting you and Dap to safety. Find somewhere that your little bro might find comforting?

“Right, right, okay, safety. Safety, yeah, he needs somewhere to rest while he’s like this.” Red’s eyes flicker along the filthy canal. “Somewhere he feels safe… controlled environment… low expressed emotion… routine and a feeling of security… maybe I can get a real motel room for the night. With a real bed for him. And a shower and water. I’ll have to get more money if I do, but…”

He pulls the stolen cash out of his pocket and begins rifling through it. You see the shine of stolen jewelry too, though he can’t risk pawning it. He kind of just… grabbed it. He shoves it back into his pocket quickly and busies himself with the cash, flushed.

“Okay. Okay. Isn’t as much as I hoped for - this country just needs to lop off all these extra zeros - but there’s about… sols to pounds, sols to pesos, pesos to pounds - about 300 pound. Around here, that can get us a place to sleep, right? If I can just find us a hotel?”

He turns his attention back to Dapper, hopeful. “Would that be good, Dapper?”

No answer. Okay, okay. Red straightens up and you see him try to soften, putting his hand on Dapper’s shoulder, and then, even steeling himself to touch his face with his bare hands, flesh-on-flesh. That’s what Anti would do, right? Or Blue? Touch him, reassure him, make him feel small and safe?

“Do you want to go get a motel room, sweetheart?” asks Red, trying to make his voice drip with the sugar of it, though it comes out stilted and a little uncomfortable.

Dapper doesn’t move anyway.

Red bites on his lip.

spicydanhowell asked: red? medications are the only thing that can help him right now from what i understand. he would need benzos, like klonopin or valium or something, or a muscle relaxant. if this goes on for too long, he will need urgent medical attention because he won't be able to drink water. close his eyes so they don't get dry, and make sure his neck is comfortable. that can hurt a lot during catatonic episodes :( ((i do think it'll help if you keep moving his joints though))

“Catatonic,” chokes Red. “That’s the word, that’s the word.”

He bites down hard on the bend of his thumb. He wants to rock - he needs to rock - but it’s so fucking filthy here. Already his pants are damp and muddy. He hates that. He hates being so filthy. All the time. All week. Next to no possessions and one brother to look after and he can’t take care of a single one of them. He strokes his silver dog tags.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispers. “If he doesn’t come out of it, what will I do? I can’t take him to the hospital. I don’t think I can break in to a hospital either, not without Anti. I don’t have anything for him. I don’t have anything for him.”

You see him crumple back towards despair, but he shakes his head out again, shakes his head and brushes down his hair and slaps his chest and straightens up again.

“Goddamn! I’m tired. Not now, Rojo, not now. It’s okay, Carver, it’s going to be okay, I’ll get you back to Anti soon. I hope. Cause I really, really need someone to help us.”

He gets up on his knees and closes Dapper’s eyes carefully, rubbing his aching neck. Then he positions himself in front of him and begins moving him gently into place so he can sit on his shoulders. Red’s muscles are sore and straining, but he’ll carry him a little while longer. He’ll carry him forever if he has to.

“Let’s go get you somewhere to lie down,” he whispers. “Come on, little man. I got you.”

Anonymous asked: It will pass, Red, but it might take an hour or more. I think he's having a catatonic episode because of how terrified he got. Just keep both of you safe, sit close by him, and keep up hope. I'm sure Anti will find you soon, though he is having slight... magic issues at the moment. But don't be afraid. You're doing such a good job, you're being the best big brother you can be right now. Just keep cool and calm, wait it out.

“I hope it is just an hour or more,” he murmurs, trying to stick to the quiet parts of the city, the dangerous parts of the city, ignoring the strange looks people give him for having another adult hooked over his shoulders.

“What’s this about Anti having magic issues? Is he going to be okay?”

He carries you and Dapper for blocks and blocks, beginning to despair of ever finding a hotel. It’s not a big city. Maybe it was once, but now it’s just dirty, and dying, and exhausted, and spiteful about all of it to top everything out. People glare at him. He speaks little Spanish. He misses his warm poor mountain. He hopes the people there are gladdened by Blue’s flowers. But then he remembers the cactus tearing at his stomach and the fire going down the mountainside, and Anti wearing Blue’s burned body, and Dapper crashing to the ground with the bruise on his face, and the flight, and the fight the next day, and - and -

Red must stop to close his eyes and grit his teeth, steadying himself by his own harsh breathing and the weight of Dapper’s warm body on his aching shoulders.

“Keep going, Red, keep going,” he mumbles. “My strong right hand, my good fighting dog…”

And at last he finds a tired old motel.

The relief radiates off of him. He prays he didn’t count his cash wrong.

But fuck, he can’t go to check out a room with his little brother on his shoulders.

He sets Dapper down in the shadows of the garbage container by the back of the motel rooms - the urge to put him safely inside is tempting, but ultimately too much for him to subject his already-suffering little brother to - and he puts the camera gently on Dapper’s up-raised knees.

“Will you… will you watch him, for just one second?”

He knows it’s stupid. But he doesn’t know what else to do. Just keep cool and calm and wait it out. Prioritize. Find him somewhere he feels safe. Be the best big brother you can be.

You’re a shit big brother, some part of his head tells him. And a worse twin.

What else is new? replies another. Tell me something I don’t know.

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

bupine asked: trick? blue? can you guys hear us?

There is a flicker in a heart monitor.

An increase. A fading, again. A quietness.

There is a small boy sitting on the floor of a hospital room, hiding from the nurses, holding a camera in his hands, searching, searching, searching.

Not understanding.

The heart monitor flickers. The oxygen is inhaled more clearly. Slows again. Fades again.

Magic is just… power, right?

This should be like new batteries in a camera. This should be like a charger in a computer. This should be like revving a generator and watching it roar to life more powerful than ever before, cackling with electricity, omnipresent, omniscient, immortal!

Why does it burn so badly?

Anti’s little chest coughs. Copper pools up in his mouth. Mostly-simulated. Partly real. More real than it’s ever been before.

He can’t seem to make it dissipate again. There are crocuses beneath his fingers. There are crocuses trying to come up through the floorboards.

The heart monitor picks up again. This time it does not fade. A clear breath, and then a clearer one. Anti looks up. His eyes widen, and then he gets up from the floor, and changes his disguise.

Blue’s eyes flicker open.

He stares dully up at the white ceiling, his air puffing softly against the oxygen mask.

“Hey,” Red’s voice whispers. Soft fingers touch the plastic hospital bracelet on his wrist. “Sh, sh. It’s okay. I’m right here. Blue, Blue… you scared me…”

Blue turns his eyes to him slowly. A steady, clean, strong form sitting close to his body. Deep blue eyes and a down of brown hair, dyed red on the top.

“Roser?” he croaks. “Where… am I?”

Anonymous asked: Wow, pretending to be Red when Blue is injured? Thats a new low, even for you.

Anti’s eyes flash and he leans slightly in towards you, letting Blue drift a little again, whimpering slightly as he takes in his situation through a bleary, exhausted brain.

“I am trying to give him what he needs. He’s upset. This is an act of mercy.”

Anonymous asked: Fuck off with all the lying Anti! Don’t do this to him.

“You’d rather he wake up beside the person who did this to him?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, don't take advantage of this situation!

“Whatever, whatever. I don’t care. I’ll have to fix this whole mess up later. Right now he’s upset.”

Blue hiccups painfully and reaches out to try and find the sleeve of Red’s hoodie.

“Ro, I don’t feel - I don’t feel good, Red, Rojo.”

Anti licks at his lip. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it looked like a nervous tic.

“Blue, just be calm. Just be calm.”

“No, no, no, what’s happened to me? What’s happened to me? Ro? Ro?”

bupine asked: blue, i'm afraid that's not red. red's ok, but he's not here. that's just anti that's there. i'm sorry about your twin.

Blue is trying to push himself up to sitting. Anti gets to his feet and leans over him, pushing him back down, making him cry out as his bandaged chest burns beneath his fingers. His heart monitor whines faster and faster.

“What are they saying?” chokes Blue. “I can’t - I can’t see, I can’t see it!”

Anti takes his chin in his hands, ignoring his crying, and tilts him from side-to-side, staring into eyes gone cloudy and faraway, the pupils unfocused.

“Can you see at all?” he asks.

“Where am I, what’s happening? Everything is blurry, I can’t see! Red, why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Where are my little brothers, are they safe, where is Anti? Is he going to hurt me again?”

“Quiet,” mumbles Anti, steadying him by putting a hand on his throat. “Quiet.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, things are going to be okay. Try and breathe, okay?

“I can’t see them, I can’t see what they’re - what they’re saying - ”

“Blue, just stop freaking out! Here, here.” Anti picks up the camera and hands it to him. Moaning, Blue pulls you close to his face, his fogged eyes trying to fix on your little white words. Breathe, breathe! Red won’t stop examining him like a cut of steak at the grocery store and he wants to see the others. He needs to know that everyone is safe. Where’s Dapper, Dapper who was dragging against handcuffs on his wrist, Dapper in the middle of an episode?

“I don’t want Anti to have him anymore,” sobs Blue. “Where are my little brothers? Red, did you protect them from him?”

Anonymous asked: Anti, if you want to keep Blue calm, make like Red and reassure him! Tell him everyone's safe and warm and eating good food together, tell him he got injured, heck, tell him Anti took a vacation and he doesn't have to worry about being hurt for a while! Otherwise you're just gonna make him unable to trust Red OR you.

Anti bites down hard on his lip, his eyes flickering between Blue and the camera and the racing vitals readings. He doesn’t know how long he has before a nurse comes to check on him. Okay, okay. He’s got this. He’s almost as good an actor as his two youngest.

“Blue, sh, sh. It’s big brother, right?”

He strokes a hand roughly through Blue’s hair. Blue sniffles and grabs at his sleeves, keeping Red’s hands close to him.

“We’re in the hospital. You’ve been really sick, man. The doctors think you had a stroke or something.”

“No, no,” whispers Blue. “Red, listen - ”

“Don’t think about it right now,” says Anti quickly, rubbing gently at his throat. Blue softens a little beneath his hands, trembling back down onto his pillows. “It must have been scary. But I’m going to make it right. I always do. You are safe.”

Blue kneads at his sleeves, trying to stare up at him, trying to find the freckles on his face, but Red is a blur of color and a soft voice speaking to him.

And… a burn on his palms that feels almost familiar.

Something nasty curls in Blue’s stomach.

“Red?” he asks.

“Yes,” says the person standing over him. “Yes.”

Blue chills and draws slightly away. He’s going to be sick. His body shudders once and Anti grabs him and helps pull him up to puke into the trash can beside his bed, tears beginning to run again, feeling weak and helpless and scared and sick.

“Please get someone for me,” he gags, clutching at his stomach. “I want to see one of the others.”

“No one else is here yet. Here, I’ll call for a doctor. But you can’t say anything about Anti or what happened, do you understand?”

The hand on his back is suddenly a little too firm.

“We’re in hiding and you can’t give us away, or Anti could find us.”

scunneredzombie asked: I'm sorry people freaked out at you Anti. You're right, being Red right now is a good act, thank you for being merciful to him while he's hurting. Hopefully this helps him feel calmer... Try not to let it slip that it's you, control the temper and act like Red. It's... an unfortunate lie, but it's what's best right now.

“Right, right,” mumbles Anti, nodding firmly, curving his fingers around the camera in Blue’s hands. “See, it’s for the best. Blue, I’ll explain everything soon. For now, just calm down.”

“Dapper? Dapper? Doktor, Trick?”

Anti feels the antlers poking at the back of his skull again. His head aches.

“I… I lost them,” he says.

And despite the bad news, Blue finds himself reassured by the way he says it. He calms again, rubbing at his mouth.

“Lost them?”

“Trick will be here soon, but I… I couldn’t… I’m trying, alright, I…”

Blue’s hand wraps around Anti’s sleeves again. “Okay. Okay. I know you must be trying your best. I’ll help you get them back.”

Anti softens and wraps himself gently around him, rubbing his shoulders.

“I would… like that.”

A beat.

“I’m glad you’re awake.”

cest-mellow asked: blue, just take a deep breath everything is gonna be okay. you’re in a hospital. “red” tell him a poem or something? help him calm down?

Anti rubs the heel of his palm across Blue’s back, massaging at the sore muscles, feeling Blue tremble beneath him.

“Poetry,” he mumbles, his mouth curling up a little. “I don’t know anything about - ”

“Are we still in Peru?” mumbles Blue, beginning to sway against him a little.

“No, I took you somewhere safe.”

“Oh. And Trick will be here soon?”

“Just a few minutes now, less he’s late.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine, yeah.”

“He doesn’t have Dok… I need to make sure he’s not sad…”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’ll look after everybody again soon, just like you’re supposed to.”

“Why can’t I see?” whispers Blue. “What did he do to my eyes?”

Anti licks at his lips, stroking Blue’s back.

“Don’t think about it right now. I’ll have the doctors come take a look.”

Blue sits despairing against his chest in the silence, staring at the glow of the blinding light from the window.

Anti licks his lips.

“What are the roots that clutch?” he whispers, their heads pressed close together. Blue lies against his body. Trusting his brother. “What branches grow out of this stony rubbish?”

“Oh,” whispers Blue. “I love Eliot.”

“Son of man, you cannot say, or guess, for you know only a heap of broken images, where the sun beats, and the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, and the dry stone no sound of water.” His consciousness is halfway with Blue and halfway in a cloud far above him, viewing poetry through wifi signals, to recite it in his lilting accent. Maybe that is why he does not notice when seeds open between his palms and the stems of flowers fill up his long white fingers. “Only there is shadow under this red rock. Come in under the shadow of this red rock.”

Blue’s voice joins his softly, his eyes closed like those of a sun-bathing cat. “And I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning striding behind you…” “Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you,” whispers Anti.

And then he sees the flowers on the backs of his hands, holding Blue’s shoulders.

Blue feels the brush of the leaves and opens his eyes.

Anti goes silent.

Blue’s voice shakes.

Angry.

He finishes the poem.

“I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”

The heart monitor shakes through the silence between them.

“I will kill you,” whispers Blue. “For what you have done to me and my family. Just like I promised. I will kill you.”

A hand wraps around his throat. The flowers are roses and they pierce at his skin.

“Oh, little magician,” sighs Anti, a giggle echoing through the room around him. “It’s far too late for such things now, empty little vessel that you are.”

spicydanhowell asked: blue, red is a long way away right now. that's anti with you. red is with dapper. anti and trick are with you. i'm so sorry. you had a stroke

Blue nods slowly, feeling Anti’s breath pant against his cheek. His muddied eyes are fixed straight forward. His voice, when he speaks, is raw and shaking.

“Is that true? The theft caused a stroke?”

“Mmmh.” Anti strokes his hands through his hair, massaging at his scalp. “It’s what I told Trickshot. Wait til little brother gets here to see you. You’ve never seen him so small and devoted. ‘I love you, Blue, I love you, I’ll be back tomorrow, please get better!’”

“Is he hurt?” chokes Blue. “Are you hurting him?”

“No. He’s fine. I haven’t let him do anything stupid.”

scunneredzombie asked: Anti, genuine question, no mocking intended, are you any closer to finding the others? They're in a really dire situation. Red is trying his best to keep Dapper safe, but he's Monochroma right now, catatonic, and it's looking bleak for them. I wish I could tell you anything about their location.

Anti’s eyes falter and Blue’s lock onto your message, widening.

“I’m doing everything I can,” says Anti.

“Why can’t you find them? Catatonic! Holy hell! Fuck you, Anti, go get them, goddamn you!”

“Now you want me to have them?”

“I’ll worry about taking him away from you after he’s in his right mind. This is your fucking fault!”

“Shut up!” snaps Anti, grabbing the back of his neck. “You can blame a lot of things on me, but Dapper’s fucking psycho brain?”

“Don’t you dare call him - ”

“That is all his fault. Now shut up, the nurse is coming.”

“Why can’t you find them?”

Anti stares at him, fuming, licking at his mouth.

“Why can’t you find them?”

“Shut up,” whispers Anti. “Shut up, I…”

spicydanhowell asked: you Are killing him, marv. your magic is tearing him apart. it's too strong for him. he's weak.

Blue’s eyes fill up with message, and then, and then - his face is calm, he understands.

“You can’t bear the magic.”

Anti draws slightly away from him, shifting shape. He is a small, brown-haired, mousy child sitting curled up in Trick’s chair by his bed.

“The two of them don’t meld. And now - you can’t make yours work right.”

Seamus draws his knees to his chest, his black eyes fixed on Blue.

“Oh, oh,” whispers Blue, staring at him, at the knobs of the antlers, at the thorns of the roses. “Does it demand tangibility? Does it demand physicality? And you - you have never been anything but a simulation, coding and a little bit of falsity made into images and sensations. My magic asks for a body to bear it. Does it hurt, Anti? Does it hurt, to become a tangible thing? To have nerves growing in where they have never been before, to have flesh form along new bones, to feel blood well up in a heart that has never existed til now?”

“Shut up!” screams Anti, leaping to his feet, and the lights in the room burst with a screech just as Dr. Siong opens the door to the room.

“Seamus!” she cries, alarmed, sparks raining down from the darkened ceiling.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti, Blue, both of you, calm down. At least pretend to get along until they let him out of the hospital. Acting this spiteful and rude to each other is only going to draw unwanted attention to you when you're in public like this. Be smart, control your tempers the lot of you.

Anti and Blue stare at each other. Dr. Siong sweeps forward to check on the both of them, her careful hands pressing Blue back down onto his bed as he sways, grey-faced, and then turning to Anti, holding out her hands.

“Seamus, are you okay?”

He wants to turn into a dog and bite her face off.

“I’m fine,” he snaps, sitting back down in his chair. “Nobody came when I pressed for a nurse!”

“It took us a moment, didn’t it? I’m sorry. Did your brother wake up and you were all alone in here? Where’s Connor?”

“He went to get breakfast,” Anti says.

He flashes a look at Blue as the doctor turns to him, warning him with his eyes, but Blue’s used up most of the fight he has left in him - he’s slumped back on his pillows, foggy eyes fixed on the ceiling, breathing too slow, his eyes closed.

bupine asked: anti's magic with the cameras isn't working properly right now, blue. ever since he stole your magic, from what i've seen.

“Haha,” laughs Blue, his chest trembling. “Ha… that’s what you get, that’s what you get. Hope it… hope it burns you out.”

“Matthew?” asks Dr. Siong gently, readjusting his oxygen mask. “Are you with us? I think you gave your little brother a scare.”

“Ugh,” groans Blue, his eyes welling up. “Oh, oh. I feel horrible, I feel… I want… my brothers. My poor baby brother, catatonic.”

“Catatonic?” repeats Dr. Siong. “Who’s catatonic?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue? Marvin? Tell the doctor what's going on! She might be able to help.

Anti’s hand shoots forward to grab Blue’s. Blue looks over at him, chest heaving, teeth gritted, as Dr. Siong listens to his chest.

“Trickshot is mine,” signs Anti, hands striking viciously together. “You do anything to jeopardize our situation and I will make his life a living hell. Do you fucking understand me?”

Blue draws in painful breaths, staring at him.

Anonymous asked: Blue, he can’t control your magic, it’s making him sick! That’s why he can’t find them, there’s so much going on at one time. He’s blocked all of Trick’s memories of that night too and pulled him deep under his power.

“Deep is right,” Anti signs, baring his teeth. “And sick as I am, it’s nothing compared to how weak you are now. It’s nothing that will stop me from stringing up his little cat and forcing him to eat it.”

Blue’s eyes grieve. He swallows tightly and goes quiet.

“Can you tell me how your pain is, on a scale of one to ten?” asks Dr. Siong.

Blue is crying. He quakes beneath her hands. She rubs his shoulder, bustling around him.

“S-seven.”

“I’m going to increase your pain medication.”

Anonymous asked: Stand strong Marvin. Stand strong Blue. You are not empty. You aren't just a 'vessel'. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light... Never forget what he's done to you. You will always be too much for him to handle, magnificent magician.

Blue’s eyes pick out your message slowly and pull them down deep, to keep them safe inside. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light. He is not a slave. He is not a pet. He does not want to go gentle.

“We’re going to take care of you, okay?” says the doctor. “It’s going to be okay.

“Okay,” whispers Blue, but he doesn’t know if he believes her.

Anonymous asked: His life is already a living hell Anti! Fuck you. Marvin do what you think is right. Remember, Dok is safe with the magicians and Red and Dapper are somewhere off by themselves. Trick is nearby and has started to seem semi independent, but he’s being heavily influenced by Anti.

“You don’t have the strength to keep fighting anyway, Blue,” hiss Anti’s hands.

Anonymous asked: Anti, do you really think there's anything Blue could say in this situation that would be taken for anything other than delirium by the doctors? Come on.

Anti sulks and slumps back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “They better not,” he signs. “Stupid woman threatening me.”

bupine asked: there's no point trying to explain, blue. no one will understand, they think anti is just a child. just get along with him until you're out of the hospital

He nods rapidly, closing his eyes.

“C-can I see my other brother?”

nikkilbook asked: Blue, your name is Matthew. Trick is Connor, Anti is Seamus. You got your burns in a cooking accident-turned-house fire when your shirt caught fire.

“Connor,” Blue clarifies, nodding at you. “I… I want to see Connor.”

“Seamus, maybe you would be able to get him for us?” asks Dr. Siong gently. “Do you know where he went?”

Anti swallows back the daggers he wants to glare at her. Stupid fucking Trickshot.

“He’s almost here. He’ll be right back.”

Anonymous asked: Oh fuck Chase get up you need to get to the hospital NOW

Trick startles at the beeping on his camera, nearly dropping you. “Oh!” he gasps. “What’s wrong? Here I am, I’m coming through the door.”

bupine asked: trick, where are you? blue's awake!

Trick pauses, and then blinks, and then lights up like a happy heart monitor.

“Blue’s awake!” he shouts right there in the middle of the hallway, and then he’s off like a shot, ignoring the glances from people around him, racing towards his big brother. “Fuck yeah! Blue’s awake, Blue’s awake!”

badlypostedeverything asked: Blue is awake! He's not doing great though

“Oh, he’s not doing great, oh no. Okay, okay, no worries. I’m going to look after him, I am, I’m going to do everything Dok taught me and I’m going to guard him with the gun every night and nothing will come after him and we’ll be okay and - and - ”

He pushes through the door of the hospital room.

Dr. Siong is holding Blue as carefully as she can as he cries hot, rapid tears, his chest shaking with sobs. “It’s going to ease up soon,” she promises. “It’s going to ease, it’s going to get better.”

Blue cries against his pillow. “Am I going to die?”

“We’re monitoring your condition very closely. We believe there’s still a good chance of recovery.”

“Bl - Matti!” calls Trick, hurrying towards him. “Matti, thank fuck!”

“Trick,” croaks Blue, past caring, and then his little brother is wrapping himself around him, so, so careful of the burns and the pain and the distress that he’s in. Trick is strong and steady around him, healthy and whole, protecting his body, pressing their heads together, breathing against him.

“I’ve got you,” says Trick, sure and steady, and his voice does not shake. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay. I love you. I’m going to look after you.”

Blue presses his face into his shoulder and prays he never has to come out of hiding right here ever again.

Anonymous asked: Oh blue, is there anyway that someone can survive after their magic is taken from them? One of the magicians healed you as much as he could, but I don’t know how much that really counts for.

“Never heard of anything like this happening,” wheezes Blue. “Black magic, black.”

“I’m going to go get a nurse and have her get a look at these burns, alright?” soothes Dr. Siong, patting his ribcage gently. “There’s been a lot of improvement over the past few days.”

She turns to go, but a small voice pauses her. Seamus is standing upright on his chair again, a tiny ferocity staring right at her.

“What’s wrong with his eyes?” he asks. “Why can’t he see right? I thought you took brain scans.”

She glances at Connor. “Well, Seamus, sometimes things can happen that don’t show up on any of our early scans. But we’re going to run some more tests and try to figure it out.”

“If it’s not in his brain, then where is it?” snaps Anti, clutching his little fists together. Trick reaches out to grab his wrist, firm but gentle.

“Maybe the eyes themselves, some dysfunction?”

“You don’t know,” he says. “You don’t know, so you don’t know how to fix it.”

She sighs a low breath through her nose, looking down at Matti in the hospital bed, who stares back with those glassed-over eyes, like cataracts had filled up his vision. But they aren’t cataracts. Or if they are, she doesn’t know how the hell any of this could come from an auto-immune flare-up or a stroke or a seizure of anything natural she’s ever heard of.

“We’re going to do everything we can to find out,” she promises.

Seamus sits back down in his chest, blue eyes fixed on the floor, picking at his nails til they bleed, listening to the sound of her disappearing through the door.

He fucked up his vision. He didn’t know. Or he did, maybe. He knew that something bad would happen.

He did what he had to.

Seamus wraps his arms around his knees and sits in silence while Trick and Blue hold each other.

spicydanhowell asked: so, anti, what's /really/ wrong with him? the white hair, never waking up, now he's nearly blind? what's the truth? or is it just the loss of his magic? you know medical doctors can't fix that, right?

His eyes flicker over to you and then away again, changing to green. No, he doesn’t know. No, a stroke doesn’t explain what’s happened. Neither can any of the doctors here. His best bet, if he really wanted to know, would be a magician like the ones who took his clever doctor, but even if he cared to ask them, he doubts they would be able to do anything to help fix this. What’s done is done and he had to do it. He had to do it. He remembers Blue begging for him to stop. He had to do it.

“You had a stroke,” Trick is whispering, stroking Blue’s hair. “I was so scared.”

scunneredzombie asked: Be careful Trick. Anti is currently pissed as hell hidden under a barely controlled layer of fake-calm. Tread lightly.

Trick curls tighter around Blue’s body, fear flashing across his face. He would call it irrational for Anti to be angry at Blue within minutes of him waking up after days and days of unconsciousness, but he stopped expecting Anti’s anger to be reasonable a long time ago. All he can do is look after Blue.

bupine asked: red and dap are ok, blue. red misses you. i'm sorry we couldn't do anything else for you, but they're ok at least.

Blue’s eyes slide shut. Red and Dapper are okay. Red misses him.

Red abandoned him.

Red misses him. He’s okay. Red and Dapper are okay.

“I can feel you thinking,” teases Trick softly, nuzzling against his hair. “Just rest, Blue. Go back to sleep. It’s going to be alright. I am never, never letting you get hurt again.”

Blue keeps his face buried right there in Trick’s shoulder. Right there in Trick’s hoodie. And, just for a moment, despite everything that’s happened, despite the monster watching over them, he feels absolutely safe.

Or maybe the word he’s looking for is ‘loved,’ but if there’s a difference, he doesn’t care to distinguish.

Anonymous asked: Don't lie Anti. You didn't "have" to do it. You did it out of fear. Our of selfishness. Our of desperation. You nearly killed the only thing that gives you purpose. You nearly killed the only things you can bring yourself to care about. I can tell you feel guilty, but I think that's out of selfishness too.

Anti presses the camera down onto his shoulder, a little clip-on sitting beside him.

He doesn’t look like himself, or like Seamus, or like any of his puppets. Instead, as you watch him adjust, you recognize the face of the young Peruvian magician who protected Blue as the fire burned.

Anti pauses to regard your message coolly, Hermann’s face filled up with contempt and glitching moment to moment, a dark hood pulled over his head.

“I don’t feel guilty,” he says. “And I wouldn’t have killed him. I wouldn’t.”

He shifts and turns towards a small, run-down apartment building with vines growing up over the windows and palm trees swaying outside of it.

“I thought you should see this. Come with me.”

Anonymous asked: It's a good thing you look like a little brat, Anti, because you're acting just like one. Sometimes an i-don't-know is a better answer than a straight up lie. Let the doctors do their jobs, damn.

You see Hermann’s teeth grit in his mouth. “Trickshot belongs to me,” he growls. “I’ll tell him what I want him to know. He’ll believe what I want him to believe. And I don’t care what you think of me. Keep your mouths shut. I will show you fear… I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”

He slips along the edges of the building and then, with a leap, he is climbing up the side of it, approaching a balcony on the second floor, moving as smoothly as Red could, leaping in silence up the old red brick of it.

“Nothing like what happened that night will ever happen to us again. No one takes my pet from me and goes unpunished. If anyone is searching for us, I will pluck out their eyes.”

Anonymous asked: I would like to opt out of this field trip please. There's nothing you can show us that will take back the fact you wanted to kill Marvin out of hate and fear, and Trick out of convenience.

“You can go, no one’s keeping you here… anyway, I think about killing Trick all the time, it’s not a big deal. Something about him is just so small and pathetic. He never had the bite his brothers did, not really. More than the others to lose, I guess. Less useful, too. But he looks so much like… oh, look.”

Anti jerks back from the window, giggling as he hides, and a middle-aged man carrying a large swathe of colorful fabric passes the glass by, singing as he goes.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, can't you see that you've done more harm than good?

“Well, that’s always been so,” mumbles Anti. “Wasn’t exactly created for my acts of charity.”

Slowly, he reaches down to pull the window up, but finds it locked and so hot it burns the ends of his fingers. Hissing, he draws back and pauses outside the balcony, glaring at the lock.

It’s slow. It takes a lot of his concentration. But then, as you watch, the small, pretty green vines clinging to the building answer his call and come to wrap around the lock, again and again and again, until they are so tight that it snaps, and the window comes up, and he slips in beneath him.

The hall is quiet. It’s very early in the morning. Anti stares around him, black eyes cool and flickering. He flips a long and beautiful blade around in his hands.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: For once, can you just keep the insults of your "brothers" to yourself?

“You fuckers brought it up! I don’t really mean to insult him, you know, it’s just… what he is. Dok secretly loves blood so much it makes him ill, Red can’t lie, Trick’s a little more cowardly than his brothers - these are just facts. I know how to work with it so he’s still perfectly useful most of the time. Now, shhh.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Anti what are you doing

“I just wanted to remind you all,” whispers Anti, beginning down the hall. “Who I am and just how useless outside help could ever be to you.”

There is a door with a light on. Inside, you can hear the man singing and circling around the room, sashaying with his fabric.

“You got lucky, contacting those magicians. You got lucky, the little boy noticing Red in the market. You got lucky, me being ill and me needing Blue’s magic, and the magicians being just close enough to take my boy away from me. But I will get Henrik back, and Jackie and Dapper too, and no one is going to help you. You’re here to watch. Watch. You saw the ravens and the condors, congrats. Say hello to the sunbirds. I’m going to make sure they can’t help you ever again.”

He pushes open the door.

spicydanhowell asked: anti who the f u c k did you kidnap

“Kidnap?” says Anti. “Kidnap? No way!”

The man lets out a cry and green powers light up in his hands, but Anti is already throwing himself forward, slamming the man to the ground. He hits the floor with his fabric billowing around him, and now you can see that it is a soft, pretty cloak in vivid sunbird colors. He tries to shout, but Anti has a blade on his jugular already.

“Poor little magician,” he coos, digging Hermann’s hands into his throat and making the man choke. “Just bad luck, puppet, I’m afraid. I would have slaughtered the order in whichever part of the world I went to.”

“You’re the monster,” says the sunbird, trying to push up from beneath his hands, gasping. “The ones the Peruvians warned about. The shape-shifter, the dog-man.”

Anti leans down, close, close, so you can see the dark and lovely eyes of the man, and the fear in his face, and the courage, too, just for a moment.

“Maybe you should have heeded their warning,” says Anti.

He draws back the blade and - well. Perhaps you turn your eyes away.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti wait, killing anyone right now is /such/ a bad idea! You're forced to be in the public eye for now while Blue is in the hospital, doing things like this will only draw in the eyes of the magicians. If you kill or torture people right now, you could get caught by them.

“Magicians live under the radar, they do not report to police or retreat to hospitals. It is just as when I sent Red to kill the librarian and take the book from him. The police found a body without identification or any record of existence, and, from there, the magicians and I both covered the killing up. We both live in the shadows, and that is where this violence will stay. You’re underestimating how well I can cover my tracks.”

Anti gets to his feet, blood sliding down his palms, and he turns back towards the door of the little apartment, and stalks back out into the hall. Magicians, in his experience, are always pack animals.

bupine asked: anti, may i ask if this thing you want to show us involves death? are you going to kill someone? and why are you wearing the face of a magician you hate?

“Oops,” says Anti, licking his blade off. “Should I have warned you?”

Footsteps pause at the end of the hall at the sound of his voice.

“Caleb? Is that you, meh?”

Anti grins coldly. “I like to steal faces,” he says, and then he is Genesis, stalking down the hall and filling it up with laughter.

You see the shadow at the end of the hall pause, and the turn to flee, but not fast enough, not fast enough. “I am nobody’s prop!” Anti is screaming. “Nobody takes things from me! Nobody moves my things and steals my pets! I’m the one in control! Thieves, thieves! You won’t take anything from me ever again! Where is my doctor? Where is my Henrik? Why can’t I fucking find him? Did you kill him, did you take him from me?”

Lights flicker on on the other floors, confused murmuring coming through the vents.

florenceisfalling asked: anti, they're just going to keep hiding henrik further and further away from you like this. you aren't exactly being subtle.

“They don’t have him anyway,” chokes Anti, covering his face with his hands. His throat splits open and begins to weep. “I don’t know where they sent him to but I would know if he was here, I would know. I used to be able to search the whole world in seconds. Now I am being incarnated smaller and smaller every day, and I cannot reach, and I cannot get back to Peru, and I cannot see or hear or feel his heart. The magic demands tangibility.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: This is about Henrik? Goodness, Anti, there's better ways of going about this!!

“I’ll punish them!” Anti shouts. “I’ll kill every fucking magician alive if I have to! I’ll strip you all down to bone! He belongs to me! Vigilante thieves, as bad as Jackie was, trying to take my Dapper away from me! Tonight I shed blood, turn your eyes away if you don’t wish to see.”

He gets to his feet and races down the stairs, wielding the knife, antlers bursting from his skull, coated in red weigela kisses.

badlypostedeverything asked: Then what use is it expending all of your energy killing these magicians?

“The Peruvians warned their brothers and sisters. They could find Trick and Blue and try to take them too. I won’t let them happen. And I won’t give you anyone that you can call upon. Besides, I have to give this anger to someone, I have to do something with this rage, I am being devoured, they stole my Doktor from me.”

bupine asked: OH, you're looking for dok. good luck, dude, even we haven't seen him yet. hope he's ok. maybe if some fuckin dickhead hadn't left him in a fire we'd know he was ok, but hey, things happen.

“It wasn’t burning when I left him! It wasn’t! Don’t say that! I hid him and his twin, I hid them, my weak ones! He didn’t have a chance to defend himself, I’m sure he didn’t, he’s never been good in a fight, I should have left him at home and came back for him…”

bupine asked: "i hid them" yeah, and you did a grand old job of it. well done, man.

“He came down to the river for Blue. He came down to the river for Blue. I told him to stay and be quiet, and he and Trick could have protected each other. It was his fault.”

badlypostedeverything asked: Loving the floral look there. Want a nice ornament to hang off of those antlers? some weedkiller perhaps?

“Fucking weeds,” Anti screams, tearing at his antlers. “I hate the way all of this feels. But I’ll do what I have to, I did what I had to!”

He has found another sunbird and he is tearing them apart. You can hear the wailing beneath him. He fights with all the ferocity he did in the fire on that night when he stole Blue’s magic, but something has changed. His control is better now - despite the fury burning off him, his fire does not spread, plants burst up where he steps, and he glitches just as well as always in the small space of the building, too swift and too swiftly changing to be caught or hit or stopped. The power is eating at him, yes - but he does possess and control it, and every day, the two magics in his chest are melding, molten, into each other more and more.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick tried hos damnedest to protect his twin, Anti. Something you've clearly never done

“You don’t know anything about the things we’ve been through,” snarls Anti, dragging himself up with blood dripping from a dog’s mouth. “I may not have loved them the way other beings would, but I have always tried to keep them safe when others came - police, magicians, government, old enemies. I - I have never failed to keep them with me before…”

badlypostedeverything asked: Anti, you've got to give blue back his magic. Otherwise he'll die and your puppet collection will be incomplete. Wouldn't want that would you? There are other ways to keep him in check

“Do you think it’s that simple? Do you think I even know how I would give it back to him? No, it can’t go back, it’s doesn’t just go back. Even if I knew how, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, I can hide him now. I can… I have to be able to… this must have been worth it, it must have…”

He lets another body thud to the floor, panting hard. These people are diverse and complex, with stories and lives and families all their own, but it doesn’t matter to Anti and it never has. He and his are all that matters. He and the boy and the things the boy created. That is all that has ever mattered.

Anonymous asked: Are you trying to start a magician war? How exactly is that going to help you?

“I will leave nothing here to be warred with. I am the war and the victor. They will not find Trick and Blue.”

cest-mellow asked: or maybe, you know, if you hadn’t stolen marvin’s magic none of this would be happening. he wouldn’t be dying, YOU wouldn’t be dying, and you’d have all of the brainwashed boys at your side again. but no! no no. greed is such a dangerous thing.

“No, no,” mumbles Anti, rubbing hard at his face, now shifting, constant, between dozens of faces, some you have seen, and some you have not. “No, no.”

Red’s mouth and Blue’s ears. Hermann’s hair and Emmanuela’s hands. The body of a stranger and Jack’s eyes.

bupine asked: so does blue have no magic now? is that why his hair turned white and he won't get better? is he gonna survive without magic? do you even know?

“He will survive. I will not let him go. Yes, he’s empty of it now, his hair is whitening and his eyes cloud over and all the time I feel his hand and find it winter-cold. But he’ll survive, that’s what they told me, that’s what they promised. I will not let him go.”

Meanwhile, death on his hands. There were perhaps six or seven sunbirds in their little building, and they managed only glancing blows in the face of Anti’s power. It is a small country and if there are any more left Anti will track down the rest of them too. The bodies lie around you. You have caught the violence in passing, up-close, swinging around on Anti’s shoulder, so only glimpses mark their passings.

Anti’s head bows low enough you can see the exhaustion on his face. He chokes, suddenly, and bows lower, and blood drizzles down from his lips, thick and viscous, and he grabs at his chest, groaning.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe a little bit of freedom would do them good. A tight hold only encourages them to leave you

“Trick likes to go to get his food at the hawker stands,” mumbles Anti, gripping one of the antlers on his head with both hands. He strains for a second, squeezing tight, tight, tight, and, with both hands, yanking -

The antler snaps off. He screams so loud it echoes and throws it to the ground, and the wail turns into shaky, shrieking laughter.

“Y-yes, every now and then a little freedom. But I can’t… I don’t want… I won’t risk them slipping away from me too… it’s already so quiet all the time, and so cold with the warm buzz of their souls around me…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, leave them alone!

“Deserved what they got,” Anti is whispering, looking at his hands, his pupils slightly blown. “Deserved what they got. Did what I had to. Always do. Always do.”

Anonymous asked: Regretting it yet, Anti?

Anti leans down and clutches his head in his hands, hiding against himself.

bupine asked: don't overexpend yourself. magic has limits, even for marvin, even for you. if you hurt yourself too badly you won't get back to trick or blue. just go while you can.

Anti coughs and nods slowly, getting to his feet, pale and unsteady, but nevertheless victorious, closing his eyes as his head pounds through the adrenaline of a good kill. He should feel good. This always used to make him feel so good.

“Ungh,” he grumbles, wiping a little blood from his face. “Trick and Blue…”

Anonymous asked: If Chase reminds you of Jack that much, why keep him around at all? And if you were to kill Chase because of his likeness to Jack, why on earth is Jack still alive if he's the one you actually despise?

“Maybe…”

Anti pulls at his hair, closing his eyes tight.

“Maybe I don’t mind being reminded of Jack sometimes. Maybe I wouldn’t mind if he was here with me. Maybe I would like it if he was. Maybe I’m collecting the pieces of him… Maybe he would be dead if I could kill him.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti....go back to the others. You can't let this rampage continue.

He finds a sink and begins to wash himself, cleaning the blood from his face and his hands, spitting the last of the mucus and copper into the sink and running cool water through his hair. He shifts slightly and manages to look clean, if a little ill. He stares at himself and Jack’s eyes stare back.

Anti leaves his knife embedded in the mirror and leaves the apartment building, the door swinging open behind him, erasing all security footage within twenty-five kilometers. You’re right. Time to go back.

Anonymous asked: Oh wait, Jack is alive? I thought for sure you got rid of him, I don't know why I assumed that

“Shut up,” mumbles Anti. “We don’t talk about him.”

Anonymous asked: Tell Trick what happened, Anti. Stop lying. You can’t fix it. Tell him the truth. You went too far like you always do and there is no way to fix it. There has never been any way to fix anything. You can’t “fix” Dapper’s mental state, you can’t change Red’s purpose with a fucking collar, you can’t “fix” Trick’s tendencies with isolation. You can’t “fix” Dok’s medical skills by making him take all the blame for your stupid mistakes. You can’t kill Marvin’s spirit but taking away his magic.

Anti shakes his head, slow, slow, worn down by the discussion. “I will fix it,” he tells you, making his voice steady. “I will. And this… this was the first step. I wanted you to remember who I am. I will get the others back. I will. Don’t hope, don’t wonder, don’t even imagine them staying away from me. Soon, they’ll be mine again. And I will find a way to fix… all of it. All of it. And then maybe we can all find some peace for once.”

bupine asked: do you miss jack, then? also, are you ever gonna tell us what happened to him? you don't have to, but we'd like to at least know.

Anti stands at a bus station alone, sitting beneath the little glass cover of it, small and weary on the cold bench.

A soft drizzle of rain is beginning. It patters against the glass.

“Maybe you’re not the only one who’d like to know.”

He reaches up and turns you off.

----------

Anonymous asked: Awright magicians, you gotta turn that camera on eventually. We've got info on the demon, you have info on our BOY! Let's trade, hm?

It is also raining in Peru.

You can hear it on the roof of this little, white-brick building in which you find yourself. You can see it in the frizz of the hair of the girl who is holding you. You could smell it, if you were there beside her - petrichor and a dozen aromas of shared, clean, healthy magic.

“Hi,” says Nina, staring down at you, and a moment later Hermann stands beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “We really didn’t want to do this, but we could use your help with a little emergency.”

If you listen, you can hear Doktor screaming.

scunneredzombie asked: Magicians, please don't hurt Doktor. He's been through so much. But, as glad as I am that you have him away from the demon, he probably won't ever cooperate with you unless you manage to get his brother Trickshot as well. Also, turn the camera off as quick as you can, only ask us sparse questions, the demon can track where the cameras are, and he will show up and attack if you keep the signal up for too long.

“You are right about the cooperating,” mumbles Hermann, chewing on the nail of his thumb, glancing up and then back down at you, up and then back down.

“Hermann,” says Nina smoothly, adjusting her grip on you, her clear black eyes fixed on your lens. She speaks English much more clearly than he does. “Stop being so nervous. He’s just fine. Thank you for your information. I’ll make a note of all that you say. I’m curious as to who you are and why you’re here, but we’ll discuss it at another time. As for the creature tracking him here or watching our signals, there’s no need to be concerned. This place is very safe. Wardings and spells will keep outside eyes from peering in. We had an intimate encounter with the creature’s power and his technical manipulation, at least, will not be able to invade this place.”

In the distance, Henrik’s scream rises in pitch and you distinguish his words.

“No, no, don’t touch me! Stop, leave me alone, no! Give me back to my brothers! Give me back to my master!”

Footsteps come down the hall towards them and Nina and Hermann look up. You hear Genesis murmur something, and then Hermann is darting away to speak with her, the two of them chattering in Spanish as Henrik continues to cry out.

Nina lets out a short, irritated sigh through her nose.

“My name is Nina Vasquez. I’m a healer with the Peruvian Order of the Raven. And I refuse to sedate your little friend for the fourth time this week. He is beginning to make himself very ill. Please help us calm him down.”

Anonymous asked: Hey magicians? The sunbirds just got slaughtered, and if there are any left, they are being hunted down.

Nina’s face darkens with alarm. She stares down at the cold stone floor for a second, sorrow flashing across her face.

“Nina, what is it?” asks Genesis in Spanish.

“Never mind,” answers Nina softly, clearing her visage. “We’ll discuss it with Emmanuela later. It’s… it’s already done.”

She puts a hand on her pregnant stomach, nodding slowly at you.

cest-mellow asked: give the camera to doktor so we can talk to him and help calm him down

Nina glances up at the others one more time. “We’re sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes,” say Genesis and Hermann at the same time.

“The cameras helped me to convince the puppet magician to cast his power so you could all find me before I was to be killed,” says Genesis. “And told the gunman not to shoot me either.”

“And they help me find the magician when he was injured in the water,” adds Hermann.

“Without them, we would not have been possible to find the twin snipers and bring this one home in the first place.”

Nina lets out a low sigh and holds out the camera.

“Hello again, camera elves,” says Genesis fondly, taking you from her hands, and then the two of them are darting back down the hall together. Hermann limps, but he’s healthy enough to run, and the cuts on Genesis’s skin have faded a great deal since you saw her last.

They bring you to the door of a small room with an open window high up on the wall to let the breeze in. Another raven magician is sitting in his wheelchair at the entrance, his hands out-stretched soothingly, and Hermann’s ice coats most of the door, leaving only a small gap for you to see Doktor, huddled against the wall in the back corner, his face bright red and his body shaking, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Stay away from me, stay away!” he shrieks, writhing against the wall until his head strikes it, once, twice. “Give me back to my master, let me go! Let me go, let me go!”

“Sh, sh,” pleads the other magician. “Sh, no one is hurting you.”

“Look out, JP, we got something for him,” says Genesis, coming up beside him to hold the camera out. “Hey, amigo, come here, it is your friends. Hey, hey, no need for the yelling so loud. All okay, yes.”

Doktor isn’t listening. He thuds his head back against the wall, clutching at his shoulders, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Medico,” says Hermann gently. “Medico, it’s your master’s camera.”

Doktor pauses and opens one frightened eye.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Hey you magicians have like a bunch of wards on the place right cause if not then your gonna have a lot of problems really soon

“This place is extraordinarily secure from that creature,” says JP. “Our encounter with the monster was… was… horrible… and we’ve lost friends to it. We’ve lost many friends to it and I wish it did not have to be like it is, but the silver lining is a better understanding of that thing. It won’t be able to track or hack into this camera-messaging system it set up. It will be very difficult for it to find this place by any other means. And as we speak, the Old Man is continuing his research.”

“Our librarian,” says Hermann.

“We have the biggest collection of magical research and books in South America,” adds Genesis. “In case any of you are fucking nerds.”

“The monster is nothing normal, nothing we’ve seen before, not even classifiable as a demon in the technical term. But we’re working on discovering what it is. What matters now, my friends, is that not a word of this gets back to the monster. Do you understand?”

JP’s eyes entreat you. The light reflects gold off the deep blackness of his skin and his eyes swallow up all light. His face is round and kind and open.

“Don’t tell it you saw this man. Don’t tell it we have him. Don’t tell it you even know he is alive. Say nothing. Yes? Say nothing.”

“No,” screams Doktor, grasping for you. “No, tell Anti I’m here, tell Anti to come get me! Please, I don’t want to be a prisoner, let me go back to my brothers! Tell master I’m here in Peru!”

cest-mellow asked: dok, it’s us, are you doing okay? you need to calm down buddy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.

Dok grabs you and pulls you close to him, darting back into his corner beside a clean, unused bed, hiding against the board of it. His teeth are chattering in his mouth, but sweat beads and drips down his pale cheeks.

“Anti is going to be so angry with me,” he chants in a low shaking monotone, his pupils blown, staring slightly to the side of you. “Anti’s going to be so angry, Anti’s going to be so angry, Anti’s going to hurt Trick for letting me go, I’m in trouble, I want to go home, I’m afraid, I’m afraid.”

hollenka99 asked: Dok? Can you hear us? What's going on?

“I was with Trick, I was in the field with Trick, and they were going to take him, they were going to take him away from me. And I told them not to and then she grabbed me! The girl grabbed me, she grabbed me, and then I was here, and then there were hands holding me down, everyone grabbed at me, and they drugged me and locked me away!”

He lets out a cry of despair, gripping at his shoulder, shoving himself back against the wall. “They want to touch me, they want to look into my head, they’re going to make me think things that aren’t true! They won’t let me go! They think Anti is a monster, they’re hunting him, and Blue was ill, and I can’t - I need to be - I want to go home, let me out, let me out, let me go, no, no, no!”

cest-mellow asked: dok, anti isnt mad, hes just worried for you, everything is okay. trick is doing just fine, red and dapper and blue are getting by alright as well. take some deep breaths, focus on your breathing. everything is gonna be okay! we’re here with you now, you’re not alone

Doktor sniffles for a moment, rubbing at his salt-soaked face. He’d usually be embarrassed to let you see him like this - hell, he’d usually be hiding in a nest Trick made for him, curled up with Trick pretending he didn’t even notice, just nudging Noodle gently over to comfort him and guarding the window from everything that might come to hurt them, maybe rubbing Doktor’s shoulder when his cries went from silent to sobbing, and Doktor would cry himself exhausted and then fall asleep to the sound of his twin’s breathing -

Dok covers his face with his hands again, hiccuping as tears come sliding down his cheeks again.

“He’s just fine? Anti is not hurting him? He is not wanting to die? Anti’s not - Anti’s worried about me? Me?”

Anonymous asked: DOK!! We missed you! You're not hurt or anything, right? And before you ask, Trick is safe. Everyone is about as well as they can be, given the separation.

Doktor curls his hands tight around you, hiccuping on sobs. “I missed you too, I did, I missed everyone. You will tell Anti where I am, won’t you? And he’ll come get me and even if he’s mad at least he’ll take me home and give me back to Trick. Oh, I really want that, I know you’ll tell him for me.”

He wipes at his face, breathing out a shuddering sigh.

“H-hurt, no, no, no, don’t let them tell you I’m hurt, they’re liars! The healer girl says ‘oh, you’re not well, he treats you badly, where are all these cuts from and why do you have worms?’ But she’s just a liar, they’re just lying magician wannabes, they’re not like my Anti and my Blue, don’t listen to them. No, not hurt, I’m good, I’m well, nobody is being bad to me, Anti has not made me ill or injured or sick in the head. They’re liars, they lie, they stole me to hurt Anti, maybe soon they will kill me…”

cest-mellow asked: yes, dok, trick is doing just fine. he’s got noodle, and a nice warm place to sleep in and anti is doing his best to take care of him. theyre worried about you. have you gotten any sleep while you’ve been here?

“The girl keeps making me sleep!” sobs Doktor, grabbing you to his chest. “She puts needles in me, she tries to feed me things! Not even a real doctor! Stupid ‘magic’ doctor! This is stupid! I can take care of myself! I’m okay! She drugs me! Don’t let her come near me, no, no, no, please, I’m afraid of the needles and the way they all look at me, like I am little lost sheep, like I am broken toy. Not like Trick looks at me, like I am his and belong just right and everything is okay with us. No, I will make sure they know Anti taught me to hurt even though I am his worst fighter, they try and come near me and I bite.”

scunneredzombie asked: Doktor... Anti hurt you. He cuts you and tortures you. And you have worms too? Buddy... Listen to the healer. Let her help you. Please. What would any of this be for if you die before ever getting to see Trick again? Let yourself be healed, or you risk never seeing your family again.

“No, no, no!” screeches Doktor, dropping you to the ground and tearing at his throat as JP lets out a warning cry from the doorway. “No, no, Anti loves me, Anti is not bad, not true, not true! Master, come get me! Trick, Trick, why won’t you come save me, I know you love me, Trick is not bad to me, no one is torturing me, Anti is not a monster! Make this stop! Make this stop! Make this stop!”

Genesis is leaping into the room, and she comes to kneel beside him and tries to pin him down as gently as she can, but he’s thrashing wildly, and when his head begins to hit the wall and the end of the bed again, Hermann drops the ice and comes to hold Doktor’s head in his hands, barely avoiding getting his fingers bit.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Anti hates it when other people touch me! Dirty, useless! Stupid fucking monsters! You stole me from my family! You stole me! I’m glad Anti killed that man who grabbed my Trick, I’m glad Red killed your boy with the book! Fuck you, fuck you!”

“Don’t say that!” cries Genesis, her fury ignited, and Hermann murmurs her name, low and soothing. “You’re sick, you know that? That horrible thing is in your head. You’re so sick you can’t even tell that you are sick. What a horrible curse for a medico. You should be careful, you know. Not everyone is so convinced that you are not as evil as your master, you poor fucking bastard. Oh, please, you suffering idiot, stop, stop clawing at yourself like that!”

Anonymous asked: Anti won't hurt you or Trick, Dok, everything will be okay. Just let the magicians help you for now, alright? Let them see what's going on. The more you work with them, the sooner you'll see Trick and the others. Nothing is your fault. It's all okay. You need to calm yourself, you're hurting your head.

“No, no, please,” moans Doktor, trying to hide from Genesis and Hermann as JP rolls slowly into the room. “Don’t hurt me, afraid, afraid. I’ll bite you, I’ll kill you! Anti will be so angry, Anti will… mmhhh.”

“He’s so tired,” whispers Hermann, stroking Dok’s hair and making him jolt and hiss, baring his teeth. “Nina says he will just keep fighting and fighting and fighting til he dies if something doesn’t change. Emmanuela thinks the demon made it so that it is horrible, in his head, to be taken away from it. The hypnosis is very complex, she says. She’s good at that stuff. She says he doesn’t even know how to believe it is a bad demon anymore, because it entangled itself into everything he knows to be true. Entangled itself into everybody he loves. So he can’t lose the demon without the whole system falling apart. Without his whole life falling apart, and all his beliefs, and everything he’s ever been through becoming a horrible nightmare.”

“Already a horrible nightmare,” mumbles Genesis, pushing his wrists against his heart. “The horrible part would be for him to recognize it. Imagine looking back on all you remember and realizing all of it was torture, torture from somebody who forced you to love them. Hard to blame him for refusing to listen. But this cannot be going on and on.”

scunneredzombie asked: Doktor, it's so good to know you're safe. Everything will be okay. Trickshot is somewhere safe, he's doing okay. Trust me when I say that /you/ are safe too. These magicians want to help. Let them help you, Doktor. Talk to them. I'm betting the more you cooperate, the sooner you'll be back with your family.

“Trickshot is safe,” whimpers Dok, curling in on himself like a porcupine, holding himself. He’s wearing an over-sized t-shirt and running shorts, neither of which you recognize as his. “Trickshot is safe. I want to be with him. I want to be with him. I want to be with him.”

hollenka99 asked: Don't worry about Blue for the moment. I promise he's being taken good care of. Anti and Trick are keeping him safe. You know they would never let anything bad happen to you or your brothers, if they can help it. For now, co-operate with the people around you. If they prove to be an active threat, then by all means fight them in self defense. But don't wear yourself out too quickly. It may be a while before Anti can work out where you are, let alone reach you.

“And Blue’s okay!” cries Dok, a little relief soothing him under Genesis’s hands, his eyes managing to fix on you again. “Oh, oh, Blue is well, and Trick is protecting him… oh, the cameras would not lie to me.”

He pauses, mulling over the rest of your message. His eyes dart up to the magicians and then away again, hard and cold.

“We’ll let you go if you stop the thrashing,” says Genesis. Slowly, her hands pull away.

“There you go,” soothes Hermann, patting Dok’s cheek one more time. “There you go. Yes? Okay, amigo?”

Doktor says nothing, swallowing hard and staring at the wall, holding you like a stuffy. Genesis and Hermann glance at him, at you, and at each other, and then get up and go back to the door to give him some space with you again.

Maybe you’re right. He shouldn’t wear himself out too quickly. He doesn’t mean to - well, maybe some of it, he means to.

“I’m just - I’m just scared,” he admits, his voice trembling. “V-very scared. I can’t be here… I can’t… I can’t believe any of this is real… too bizarre, too scary. Why did Anti let them catch up to us? Why… why did he do that to Blue? I trusted him and he… he…”

Doktor closes his eyes and clears his throat, beginning to shake again, hard. “He just made a mistake, though… he just made a… you’ll tell him where I am, I know you will, and then we can all go home…”

scunneredzombie asked: Doktor, can you do something for me? If you can come down to us for just a moment, pretend the magicians don't exist, can you list for me 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you smell, and 1 thing you can taste? Focus on calming, buddy, everything will be okay. Anti isn't "bad" necessarily, that isn't what I was meaning. But he did cut you. And as a doctor, a wonderful doctor, you should know that wounds need treatment.

Dok tries to shake himself out of his haze. Tries to look at you. Tries to concentrate. He’s played games like this before. Trick plays them with him, he plays them with Trick. Fuck, he wishes his twin were here to lie beside him or rub his shoulder or guard over him as he slept. Or that Blue would come and stroke his hair and tell him he’s doing so well, tell him he’s so clever and talented and he loves him so much. Dapper could come curl up around his stomach or get him some food and water he could actually trust. Even Red… even Red would guard him. Red’s not always kind, but Red is a part of Dok’s world, and the way he acts makes sense, fits in his schema, reinforces all the things he knows to be true. He knows, he knows.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t mean anything, I’m sorry, I can’t calm down at all,” chokes Dok.

But no, no, he can try, he can play these games, he knows how.

“I can see… the open window with all the light coming in. And the door with the ice on it. A little bed with nice white sheets, all the food I knocked over, a camera I like. Everything is blurry. I have broken my glasses. The nice glasses Anti bought me. I broke them and they took them away from me so I don’t even have the shattered ones. Red will kill me. He will have to buy me new ones. No, he will just make me wear contacts… I hate that.”

He holds onto himself, rubbing at his face.

“I can feel this stranger’s shirt. It is soft, though. And the cold stone against me. And the wood of the bed against my skull. I can feel… my head hurting. It protests at me. I want Trick to come and look after me. He fusses over me… Blue will fuss over me… maybe even Anti will, oh…

“I can hear birds through the window. Very sweet birds singing. And there’s often chattering coming by. Nobody chatters at home. We speak so quietly or so loudly, in private or for everyone to hear. Here, they just chatter, they just chatter about anything. There is rarely any urgency. I can hear the little beep-beep-beep of your messages.

“I smell flowers, lots of them. I saw a garden. Right in the middle of the building, a garden, blooming. Tropical flowers and trees. Blue would like it. I smell dust. No one has used this room in a long time.”

He is beginning to come down from the worst of it. His eyes blink slowly as he lies slumped against the bed, and you think that, perhaps, he is even a little sleepy. He has been fighting for days and days and days.

“I taste… chalky medicine. They are trying to give me so many different things. I keep trying to tell them I’m not sick. They don’t listen. I know Anti will not like it. Anti says only he and I make decisions about medicine. No one else chooses what’s in his pets… I am a good pet, I am… tell him I’m being good, I’m being so good, I’m a good boy.”

He holds his knees to his chest, his eyes drifting.

hollenka99 asked: Please don't be scared, Dok. We've finally managed to reach you and we'll be here for you as much as we are able. It's not much to help your situation, I know, but I hope it can be enough for now.

“You… you are always there when we have called on you. Thank you, yes, oh. It’s enough, it’s going to have to be enough.”

His eyes well again, but less painfully now. He even manages a small, strained smile at you. “I confess you are a comfort to me. I have spoken to no one, no one. It will be enough, it must be. I hope this will lead my brothers to me soon, yes? Yes, and I will go home. And this can stop. It must, it must, it must.”

Another voice joins the murmurs in the doorway.

“If I could just get him to settle down for a real examination…”

“Or at least just eat something!”

“This cannot go on. He makes himself more ill every day.”

“Emmanuela can’t begin helping him with his head while he refuses every sort of help. She has no place to start. Not the slightest trust or understanding of what’s happened to him.”

Doktor hides you jealously against himself.

Anonymous asked: Dok, try to stay calm. I know it's scary and strange but they won't hurt you, we wouldn't lie to you. Try to cooperate okay? Then you don't have to be sedated and you can stay awake. You trust us right?

“Okay,” says Doktor shakily, pushing limp hair from his eyes. “Okay, I can stay calm, I’m okay.”

“Is there anything we can get you?” asks Hermann in his heavy accent and his soft voice, giving him space from the other side of the room. But Dok just jolts and clutches you to himself, turning down his eyes and huddling in on himself, a porcupine.

“Think I can get the connection up on my computer too,” mumbles JP, rocking back on his wheels to grab his bag off the side and pull his laptop out. “We can all chat if we need to. But maybe he needs some quiet time now, I don’t know.”

“Here’s my question,” Nina puts in, peering down at his computer, her hand on his shoulder. “What do we call him? He won’t tell us his name. Genesis says the monster calls him doctor, but I’d rather have something real for him.”

Doktor whimpers with fear, squeezing you tight in his hands, his face going red. No, no, his name belongs to Anti and his twin and no one else! Henrik is a secret, even he isn’t supposed to know it!

immabethehero asked: His real name is Henrik von Schneeplestein, but I don't believe he will respond to that well. Antisepticeye said it was a "forbbiden" name

“Ah,” says Hermann. “Well, maybe that’s good, I can’t pronounce that anyway. Oh, you did get the connection up, JP, I can see them. Hello!”

“I think Medico is sweet,” says Genesis.

“It’s not a name,” says Nina. “It’s just doctor again. And I don’t want him to have to be just the monster’s doctor. He needs to have a chance to be himself again.”

sophiness asked: Goddamn when Red and Dapper get back to Anti he better fucking reward Red with something!! He's trying so hard, he deserves it!

You are set on the quiet bedside drawer of a worn-out motel room. From your angle, you can make out a body buried under bedsheets, and, on the floor in a dark huddle, Red rocking back and forth in his sleep, mumbling.

In fact, it doesn’t take long before the rocking turns to writhing, and the writhing turns to thrashing, and the thrashing turns to screaming, and then Red is awake, hollering, tearing at his arms.

“Didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to! No, no! Didn’t - ”

Regaining awareness cuts him off shortly; he blinks and forces himself to shut up, staring straight ahead. He tries to swallow off the heavy panting immediately, cursing himself for his noise and his weakness and his nightmares. He needs to be quiet. He shoves himself to his feet and staggers to the bathroom, refusing to let you look at him until he feels in control again.

And so it is almost forty-five minutes before he comes back out again, and pads over to you, and glances at your messages.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m so loud. Oh, thank you. Ha, yeah, I am trying hard, I am… not very good at any of this but I’m trying. Thank you, yeah.”

Dapper shifts slightly in the bed beside him, but Red doesn’t notice.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What are you guys trying to connect to?

“You,” laughs Hermann, tapping the screen of JP’s computer.

“The communication system connected to the cameras is replicable,” says JP. “I just made sure it’s secure and booted it up. It’s not even really a complex program, though I’m curious about some parts of it… anyway, now you can see us from my computer camera, right?”

You can drag the image in the program to sit beneath the one from Doktor’s camera, so you have a screen for him and a screen for the magicians.

Anonymous asked: Try calling him Jack. It doesn't mean anything to him but it should. Maybe that will help his old self start to break through a little? Dr. Jack might be an okay transition.

“Jack, huh? Maybe we could try that. If we need a name really badly we will use that one. What do you think, Medico? Are you a Jack?”

Dok’s eyes flicker up to them and then away again.

Anonymous asked: if you'd like to give him the chance to be himself, why not ask him to choose something to be called?

“I like that,” says JP.

“They’re right, actually,” agrees Hermann.

Nina glances over at the figure huddled in the corner of the room.

“Hey, do you hear them? Maybe in the next couple days you can choose something you want us to call you, okay? We’re not going to call you just doctor.”

“That’s my name,” rasps Dok, pulling at his hair, and they all startle a little. He doesn’t usually respond, not to anything. “That’s my name, it’s the only name that matters.”

Nina crosses her arms over her chest. “We won’t call you it anymore. Do whatever you want. You choose who you get to be. But you better choose carefully, ‘doctor,’ cause I’m not sure I like who you are right now.”

And she is turning to go, leaving her friends behind her.

JP chews on his lip, watching her leave. Genesis and Hermann exchange glances.

“Anything you need, medico,” calls Hermann gently, trying to smile at him. “We give you a little space for the now, yeah? I will guard out here in the hall. You two have other things you can be doing. No need to be all of us watch.”

bupine asked: hey dok, hen, whoever you are. you don't have to be afraid. you know us, you know we've not steered you wrong, we've always been kind to you and tried to protect you from anti. we care about you. trust us when we say that these magicians mean you no harm. did you know blue used to be one of them? and you know he would never harm you. trust us, ok?

Dok softens, blinking.

“What - Blue, someone like them?”

He glances at the door, closed now, with Hermann sitting outside of it. Dok taps his fingers on the floor.

“You are all good. Blue is good. Blue is always good and very nice. But maybe he was not before he was Anti’s? Maybe Anti made him nice? But I remember when he came to us and he was very afraid, but he was still nice to us, and bandaged Red, and helped Trick keep me safe.”

He pauses, chewing on his lip.

“Maybe magicians can be nice. But these ones are horrible and they stole me. I want to go home. Is Anti nearby to come get me today?”

bupine asked: anti isn't nearby, i'm afraid. anti's been experiencing... difficulties, since he stole your brother's magic. they're all ok, though. but anti can't find you.

Dok stares at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and then retreating again. For a long time, he is silent.

“Well, then,” he whispers finally, his eyes glassy. “I will just have to escape on my own.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Magicians? Dok’s going to try to escape. I think he might pull a ‘Gain their trust first, then run’ tactic.

“Oh, dear,” sighs Hermann, and blesses himself, touching the small gemstone necklace on his breast. “I’m going to text Emmanuela. But hey, it would be good if he at least made an attempt at ‘gain their trust,’ so we could at least look after him. I do not want for him to go back to the demon, but if he does he should at least have a couple weeks of food and sleep and medicine and safety.”

Anonymous asked: You know what, Dok? Red and Dapper are separated as well and are probably closer to you than anyone else. Maybe try finding them first when you get out? They could really really use some medical help

“Oh, yes. Yes, then I could be with the others, and Red would tell me what to do so I don’t have to worry about if I’m making Anti happy or not! If I do what Red says, I won’t be in trouble. He will slap me around a little but Anti won’t! And I can look after Dapper! Yes, yes, that’s perfect, that’s wonderful news.”

hollenka99 asked: Not tonight, sorry. He's not close enough to get there that quickly anymore. I'm sure he'll come for you as soon as he knows where exactly you are. Do you know how far from the forest they've taken you? Either way, I bet it will be a few days tops.

Doktor rubs at his face. “I think we are back in a city, maybe still Lima. I can hear the cars sometimes, far away. But inside this place is very quiet. I don’t know anything about where I am or what this place is.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, maybe the magicians can be of help to you. Maybe the better you behave, they'll be willing to talk to you about where they might think Anti is? He isn't in Peru anymore.

Doktor pauses, considering, scratching at his beard. “Maybe they know…”

hollenka99 asked: Doktor, buddy, I don't think escaping is a good idea. You will eventually get yourself lost and then how will Anti find you? He may be far away but he's going to find you soon. All he needs is a little time.

Dok tilts his head back and forth, frowning. His face is worn and very tired. Even he doesn’t know why he isn’t letting himself sleep anymore.

“I guess maybe I could just wait… I don’t know… they haven’t hurt me yet. Some of them do not like me, though. But they still do not hurt me.”

florenceisfalling asked: dok, you trust us, right? if you trust us, you'll trust them. please.

Dok stares at the floor and then up at you again, mouth pursed.

“I… I don’t know…”

His eyes water and he grits his teeth, closing his eyes. “Maybe this is just a test Anti set for me, and so far, I’m failing.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Anti had to flee the country with blue and trick. Tricks alright he misses you a lot um blue I'm pretty sure hes still dying but it's ok cause he woke up so that's a plus also noodle is good as well

“Blue is dying?” gasps Dok, and suddenly he is on his feet, though a wave of dizziness sends him crashing back down again. “Blue is - Blue - I have to go, I have to, no, no, no, please, please, please. I have to be there, who is looking after him! Anti needs me, Blue needs me, I want to see him, I want to see my big brother before he dies! My big brother looks after me, I need to be with him, I - ”

He stares at the door and clenches his fists, breathing hard, but even as he says it, he knows he is too weak to run away tonight, too sick and scared and tired and powerless, the weakest fighter in his family, nothing more than Anti’s Doktor, and now he can’t even be there to be what he’s supposed to be. The one thing he’s supposed to be. The defeat of it is cutting holes in his chest and he begins to cry, loud and earnest, wishing Trick and Blue would come to hold him. Fuck, he’s so tired. He staggers to his feet and lets himself crawl onto the mattress and drags the covers in tight around him, hiding under the blankets with you somewhere beside him, sparing you the sight of his face as he weeps.

cest-mellow asked: it’s not a test, dok. they’re trying to help you, trying to keep you safe. they haven’t hurt you, have they? just work with them. let them help.

“No, they haven’t hurt me,” he cries, trying to work with you, trying to hold himself together. “No, no, not hurting me, you’re right, I know, I just want to go home. I’m being stupid but that’s what I want, that’s what I want.”

bupine asked: henrik. please, please don't try to escape. you're a wanted criminal, remember? for all the terrible stuff anti's forced you to do? these magicians WILL keep you safe. we can promise it. you're safe here, ok? you're safe. you're safe and ok and being away from anti is what's best for you right now. we don't know where anti is anyway, but we know it's far away from here. you won't find them. please just stay here, at least for a little while, before trying anything.

“You promise,” he sobs out. “You promise, you promised. I’m going to remember that, okay? You promise me, they’re not going to hurt me. I’m trying to trust you, I am, I’m trying, you promise.”

spicydanhowell asked: dok, baby, no. he won't die. i promise. he's in the hospital and he's being taken care of. the staff won't even let him go home because they can tell how abused trick and blue have been. he's just very weak from losing his magic, and his eyes are damaged. maybe you should tell hermann that. maybe we can at least find out from the magicians what blue needs to heal.

Doktor shudders and pulls you a little closer, blinking at you. The redness in the whites of his eyes makes his irises extraordinarily blue; you could mistake him for his big brother casting magic.

“Won’t die?”

He snuffles and rubs at his weary nose, feeling weepy and pathetic, trying to straighten out again. “Oh, but he is ill. M-maybe I should tell someone…”

bupine asked: hey, magicians. can you promise not to hurt henrik? we've promised him you won't hurt him and if you do, he won't trust us anymore. and it's super important that he trusts us because we're the only people who can save him and his brothers, the only people who remember who he was before anti. please promise not to hurt him? also, but can any of you find any record of marvin (blue) in any records or anything? we know he was with you, and maybe proving it to henrik will help him trust you better

Hermann presses his hands over his heart, holding you on his lap. Something overwhelms his eyes.

For a moment, he can’t even speak, just opens and closes his mouth, and opens and closes his eyes, and tries to keep himself together, tries to express what he needs to express. He lets out a long, low sigh, and closes his eyes.

“How could we hurt him? How could we… how to explain?”

He stares off into the distance.

“When I first saw him, he was buying Christmas presents with you, do you remember?

“He was so thin and dirty and his clothes were all ragged. A little white man in the middle of the market, murmuring to his camera. He cried over a music box… a music box for his brother, sick back home. I didn’t think he seemed well at all. I followed him. I do not know, my friends… sometimes you can just see it that people need help. Do you think so? Or am I just being silly?”

He runs his fingers across his necklace morosely.

“I thought the red brother was the one making his life so hard. He gave orders, put his hands on the small of his back and sent him from place to place, and when they were together I could feel this great darkness inside of all of them. And then, when he noticed me, when he saw me on the bus, I felt it - I felt that he wanted to hurt me. I felt that he wanted to kill me. So we fought and I hurt him and he hurt me. But then when I won…”

Hermann groans, shaking his head, laughing at his own inability to express it, laughing at the tears in his own eyes.

“He was so scared. And you told me there was someone else, someone else who was hurting him. All three of them. And then all five of them. And they were nice, you said, you promised Genesis. They were good and kind and they loved each other. And the horrible power that it must have taken to beat so much hatred and violence and anger into that red man’s head… the hurt it must have taken, the control, the darkness… to make them all believe that they have to live this way, that this is alright…”

He shakes his head slowly and turns away from you.

“And then I held that man in my arms as he was dying in the water of the river as the forest burned.”

His voice is very soft. His voice has carried worlds upon it.

“No. I will not hurt him. We will not hurt him. We will not let any hurt come to him if we can help it. I swear. I want to see him well and happy. Or at least weeping over music boxes, si? Because that man, who was crying in the marketplace - that was the man who is still drawing breath beneath the great weight of the darkness. I would do anything for that person. I owe him that much. I could not save the others.”

Anonymous asked: It would be very good to ask the magicians, Dok. We don’t know what’s happening to Blue, and we can figure out from them.

Dok clutches at his shoulders, staring at the door.

“Maybe…”

He is afraid and very sleepy.

cest-mellow asked: why don’t you just let these magicians help you for a while, dok? let them feed you and keep you warm, otherwise you’re actually gonna get sick and weak, and if anti comes to get you and you can’t walk because you’re so exhausted and starving, it’ll be a mess. they won’t hurt you. if trick were here with you, would he want you to eat? sleep? be warm and feel safe? all of those things will come if you cooperate. you’ll see them all again soon. you’ll see trick soon. cooperate just for now

Hell, but he does want that. He does want someone to help him. He wants someone to feed him three hot meals a day and give him so many blankets he could drown in them and a real bed to sleep on like this one. He wants a nice safe friendly doctor to listen to his heart and check on all his old wounds and prescribe him something for the pain and the weakness and the malnutrition. He wants to sleep and then wake up and do what he chooses to do and then sleep some more, cozy and scheduled, eight or nine or maybe twelve hours a night, just to make up for time lost. He wants to admit to himself that he wants that.

He’s not sure he’s ready to do that, but there is one thing he can admit.

“Yeah, Trick would want that,” he mumbles.

When you can’t care for yourself, your twin cares for you.

“Trick wouldn’t want me to be so unwell when I could be eating… probably he is hungry and he would want me to eat, so at least one of us could be okay… Trick would want me to be okay.”

Slowly, he pushes the blankets off him, watching Hermann’s feet, still beneath the cracks of the door.

“Maybe I can try to cooperate just a little.”

For your sake. Maybe. Maybe he will even get some sleep tonight, holding you to his chest.

Maybe no one here will hurt him after all.

End Section Two of Chapter Three: Lost

[nightklok]

I literally have requests and other things to go through but it became that kinda day so welp. (I promise I’ll get to it!) Incredibly self indulgent but I deserve some self indulgence. As a treat.

Prompt taken from: 100 Ways to Say “I Love You” [Open] Number: 16) “It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Pairing: Charles Offdensen/ Pickles the Drummer Word Count: 1526 Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death.

There were many, many, many instances in Pickles’ life where he learned that as much as it killed him to not know, it was better to not ask a question in the first place. Asking the wrong question at the wrong time was almost a death sentence and one he learned very quickly in the short amount of time he spent living in the streets back when he was a teen. It had become a skill, almost, to know when to ask the right questions at the right time. It didn’t mean he actually became more careful as time passed by but the skills and mindset always was tucked underneath in some corner of his brain. 

With Charles coming back from the fucking dead it was easy for him to realize that it was a situation where he probably was better off not asking any questions. Charles supplied so little whenever the guys asked and so he didn’t add any of his questions to it. It was easier that way for him to learn to move on and he liked to think he was just a bit grateful that Pickles wasn’t harassing him on where he was going.

Pickles just didn’t anticipate how much the idea of not knowing was eating him alive. And who could blame him, quite frankly? He had known Charles for nearly 2/3rds of his own life, had to grieve when he thought he lost him, and it turns out he was alive the whole time so he had to erase those nine months of pent up feelings. Pent up feelings that he knew would resurface and create a mess everywhere. A mess he didn’t want Charles to pick up for him.

So he did what he did best and that was drinking and taking whatever was nearest to him. While it worked for a while, there was only so much he could do before the effects would wear off and he was left to those thoughts again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget. Couldn’t forget what happened that night and the nights afterwords. Grieving (or post grieving?) was a bitch.

It must’ve been a few weeks or maybe even days when Charles knocked on his door at near...1 AM in the morning? It was odd considering how Charles normally wouldn’t bother him or the others at this time. If it was important, it could be left in the morning as he always said. Naturally, he finished the rest of his cheap beer and tossed it aside before shouting, “It’s open.” 

Charles was still wearing his suit when he entered the door, meaning he was working pretty dead. He always seemed to be staying up late more recently and it became apparent when they were finally alone. He looked exhausted.

“What’re you doin’ here? Did somethin’ happen?” Pickles asked. The questions were safe.

Charles seemed even more unsure of himself. It took a few moments of silence before he could come up with an answer, “I just wanted to see you, tonight, ah, if it’s okay.” 

“Oh, okay then. You wanna sit down?” He hadn’t expected such an answer from him. Maybe he had expected for him to yell at him over something he did or whatever. Not that Charles would go yell at him at 1 in the morning for but he had expected that day to come.

Charles sat down next to him on his bed without another word. Up close, he could see how different Charles looked. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and even his skin seemed just a bit paler than usual. Pickles worried slightly about him and almost out of habit, reached up to touch his forehead. 

Charles tried to stop him but he was too late. 

“Christ, you’re cold. You’re getting sick.” Pickles spoke up. He didn’t even remember the last time a person actually felt cold and they turned out sick. Maybe it was just how he was and he never noticed? No, he got sick before and he definitely had high fevers, runny noses, and all that fun stuff. This was different. It felt different.

“I’m not getting sick, Pickles.” Was all Charles managed to say. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“Then why are you cold?” 

“The AC in my office was broken.”

Pickles laughed, “God, you’re a terrible liar. At least take my blanket; I don’t want you dying of hypothermia.”

Pickles grabbed the blanket from behind him and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was actually clean for once considering how doing laundry was one of the things he began doing to keep his mind occupied. He grabbed an unopened can of beer and offered it to him. It was actually decent quality this time which was probably why Charles accepted it. 

Charles opened it and took a sip. It felt warm going down his throat and the taste was decent, “Am I keeping you up?”

“No, not at all. It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep, anyway.” Pickles answered, “But you need to sleep though. No offense, but you look like shit. Can’t you take a day off or somethin’?”

“I ah can’t. Still have a lot of work to make up for. I’ll be fine. I didn’t come here for me, though. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“I can’t explain a lot about what happened and how I came back. And I’m sorry, you and the boys deserve to know but now’s not the right time. But for you, I can explain that I really did think a lot about you while I was gone. It’s really taken me being dead and revived to realize that. And I know what I said before, about us, but I can’t bring myself to keep things so unresolved between us.”  Especially with how short the time we have left. He wanted to say but kept that to himself.

Honestly, Pickles had to make sure he didn’t get wasted already. Nope, completely drunk. Besides, when Charles was drunk, he didn’t have to try and read between the lines to understand what he’s saying. Though, being friends with someone for so many years got him able to at least understand what he’s saying most of the time. He almost didn’t want to believe what he was saying though.

“I-So you’re sayin’ you wanna date? Is that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s an easier way of summarizing that. I know it’s not professional of me but I realize now that I shouldn’t let professionalism get in the way of relationships if I feel so strongly towards someone. And I do feel strongly about you. I’m just so sorry it’s taken me so long and made me die to realize I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pickles could feel his face flush and his heart beat probably faster than all their songs’ combined BPM. It wasn’t a conversation he could imagine having at 1 AM with a Charles who seemed so exhausted and somehow different. But then again, he didn’t expect for him to die and even come back. Maybe dying and then coming back changes your perspective on things you once held with a high regard. Or maybe it was just how life worked.

He leans closer to him. His voice was soft, as if waiting for this to be some kind of test that he would inevitably fail.  “I could’ve waited. I didn’t mind.”

“You waited long enough.” Charles answers and leans in closer to kiss him. Warm lips were against cold lips but it somehow felt like it melded so perfectly together. God, they were really waiting far too long for this.

Pickles had to pull away to be able to breathe. He looks up at Charles, tears almost threatening to form as he hugged him tightly, “I really missed you, Charlie.”

“I’ve missed you too, Pickles.” He wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly.

Pickles could swear Charles muttered something, but he didn’t hear. He didn’t care. There was something so nice about the fact that his 9 months’ worth of grieving didn’t feel so entirely wasted. Those constant years of always feeling the same way towards him somehow felt worth it, even when Charles put on the damn suit and said their unresolved relationship had to be put on hold.

He convinced Charles to sleep with him tonight, helping him take off his clothing until there was nothing else but his boxers on. He rested his head on his chest, feeling Charles wrap an arm around him. His skin was still cold and Pickles had some uncomfortable feeling it would remain cold for a while. He supposed that would be something to deal with in the morning much like having to tell his band mates about their new relationship.

Pickles could feel Charles slowly drift off, probably for the first time in such a long time. And with some weight off his shoulders, he slowly drifts off as well.He doesn’t ask about why he doesn’t hear his heartbeat. Some questions are best left unanswered. 

[dingoat]

HEY. I wanna know more about this alternative universe plot! Can you summarize what it is, what's going on it, and specifically who these ~tortured love birds~ are?? Only if that's fun for you. I'm curious!!

HEY MY DAWG

So the whole thing is really the brainchild of @askshivanulegacy who as far as I can tell has a PhD in Angst Narratives majoring in Sci Fi and Magic, and had concocted an alternate Star Wars universe where the Empire’s Ministry of Intelligence (aka the bad guy spy club) developed a procedure that effectively turns their top agents into werebeasts, all the better to serve the Empire and go about their evil spying business. In this universe, their main OC - one Cipher Agent Omega Blakk - is thus a werefox, specialising in stealth operations, loyal to his cause to a painful degree.

NOW, we’d chatted OOC back and forth for a while because hey, I guess at some point it became obvious that I like werewolves and star wars too (who knew, weird right?), and through a bit of silly back-and-forth we let our main characters get to know one another in the ‘canon’ universe. Eventually I sent a single fateful writing prompt one fine October day, from which a little drabble was born. And we loved it, and decided to keep going with it, and it… kept going, and going, and backstory kept getting filled in and possible futures kept getting screamed about, and now we’re in so deep and loving every minute of it hahaha.

So that’s where it came from OOC! Narrative wise, holy heck, I could go on forever, but I’ll try to be brief for everyone’s sake. Actually I’m gonna stick the rest behind a READ MORE because I get the feeling my attempt at brief isn’t going to be very brief at all!

So Blakk is a loyal Imperial werefox spy, and my girl Ahuska is a werewolf. SHE was afflicted with her condition some time earlier, being stolen away as part of a secret Imperial military project that basically turned civilians into sleeper soldiers/Jedi killers. They have their memory messed with so that they don’t remember a thing about their time as animals, and the full moon is their trigger. So every now and again she’d be ‘placed somewhere by work’, not realising that at night she’d go off on a murderous rampage after being strategically positioned to take down a target, and then return to life as usual none the wiser. But the project messed up baaad and was shut down, with all subjects terminated; except Ahuska, who was rescued by ex-Agent Nines (one of @humanrevolt‘s characters, written by me in this au with blessings!) in the nick of time. She lived and traveled with Nines, who revealed her condition to her but not all the details; Ahuska felt obligated to stay with her, with the promise that Nines would help resolve her memory issues and let her gain control, meanwhile Nines had the security of a monster wolf who could help her with her own agenda. (At one point Ahuska met one of Nines’ old comrades and started crushing hard, oh no.)

Fast forward to the drabble written above that started this whole mess; one night, transformed, the werewolf meets the werefox. Blakk has had a malfunction with his cybernetic implant that controls his shapeshifts and winds up stuck as a fox with an injured leg; Ahuska protects him as a wolf and then wakes the next morning as a Bothan. He knows exactly what she is, she thinks she has a cute wounded fox to tend to. Things are adorable and awkward and innocent, then bit by bit things are revealed and shared and miscommunicated. Blakk accidentally leads Imperial soldiers to Ahuska and her crew; there’s a showdown after which he’s re-captured, now known to them as an Imperial Agent, and she feels horribly betrayed and confused. Nines tries to torture him for information and at first Ahuska is ordered to help but then her werewolf half takes over (knowing instinctively that what they’re doing is wrong), and she turns on her crew. She’s eventually subdued (gassed!), Nines tortures Blakk further (with Ahuska shut away this time) and he manages to antagonise her enough that she slips up, he makes a run for it, and takes Ahuska hostage into an escape pod to make his getaway.

THEN THERE’S A LOT MORE ANGST and mistrust and hating one another while they stumble through a swamp with one set of clothes between them. But every time one storms off, the other eventually comes to find them, and bit by bit they work through their differences and misgivings and realise neither ever actually wanted to hurt the other. Shaky trust starts to build again, but Blakk’s injured arm (between being caught in a trap, having shapeshifting malfunctions, and being flat out tortured) develops a hideous infection and he becomes deathly ill. Still miles from any settlement, Ahuska finds herself hopelessly worried and desperate to help him and without having a clue what she’s doing, manages to connect to him and heal him through the Force, and without realising it they develop a Force-bond. By the time they make their way out of the swamp, they trust one another, and matter to one another, and their eventual parting to resume their totally incompatible lives is heartbreaking.

When Nines wants to continue her persuit of the fox-Agent who is clearly her new nemesis, but Ahuska tries to stop her and insist that he won’t hurt them, Nines is livid and kinda loses it, thinking she’s being controlled somehow. Ahuska realises she can’t stay with Nines any more if she wants to maintain any sort of personal freedom, and makes her escape.

Blakk, meanwhile, has been reassigned to a new handler, (as his previous Watcher had been killed in the original altercation courtesy of the Dice Gods). I had the dubious honour of creating the New Watcher who rapidly evolved from a generic Imperial Bad Guy into a truly terrible, absolutely nasty piece of work, a manipulative control freak with depraved appetites and horribly unconventional training methods.

At this point, Ahuska and Blakk can only see one another when they dream, through their Force Bond, and those sequences are beautiful and magical and full of love (which they’ve finally admitted to one another) and hope (mostly, maybe some nightmares and seeping in of waking-world problems), where they’re exploring their feelings and one another and even what it means to trust and know their animal selves. Problem is, while Ahuska, very in tune with the Force (if unknowing), can remember everything that happens in their dreams, using them as fuel to push on through a world that is suddenly otherwise huge and lonely and dangerous, Blakk’s Force connection is broken and stunted and he doesn’t remember a thing once he wakes. He’s developing a relationship that he spends more than half his life unaware of, and in his waking life he’s being slowly but surely molded into Watcher Five’s perfect, obedient, unquestioningly loyal little fox-Agent-pet.

SO AS YOU CAN IMAGINE there is an AWFUL LOT of terrible times and amazing times in store, and honestly all that up there doesn’t even come close to touching on everything that’s been going on and fleshing out the world around them. I did my best to just whittle it down to enough basics to given an idea of just what exactly our poor characters have been through, and I hope it’s not too rambling ahaha. I’m sure it’s more than you needed to know but I will ALWAYS WELCOME MORE QUESTIONS as I’m sure will @askshivanulegacy (yo feel free to elaborate on any points here, I mean I haven’t even given Thirteen a look in 8) ) so ahhhhh yes. Ahh. I’m also NOT GONNA PROOF READ THIS so sorry if it’s awkward as hell to read I’M TIRED XD XD

It is specatcular fun and I’m so glad we decided to just run with it!

[airagorncharda]

About My Blog:

Name: Nate Age: 29 (I’m bad at updating this, I was born in 1990) Pronouns: he/him/his.

It’s been ages since I’ve updated any sort of info about myself or my blog, oops.

Dfab nb trans guy, genderfluid. On the aro/ace spectrum. Queer. Gay. Neuroatypical (ADHD among other things; possibly dyslexia or else it’s just my ADHD that makes reading The Worst). I have chronic pain. I’m chubby. 

Privilege: I’m white, I grew up with financial security while I lived with my parents, I live in a liberal area of New England in the USA, I am able-bodied, I can pass as neurotypical. If I make false assumptions or fuck up because of any of these things please call me on it. I will do my utmost not to make this necessary, and to listen if it should ever be necessary.

I blog about social justice, social issues, whatever fandom I’m currently hyperfixated on, DnD, and plenty of other stuff.

My views have evolved since I started blogging, so if you go far enough back in my blog you’ll find posts that I no longer agree with.

I use my “likes” as storage for things I want to respond to later, or save to my computer when I’m on the mobile app, or research more thoroughly before reblogging when I have time/attention, etc. Do not assume I agree with everything in my likes. View my likes with caution.

I’m a writer and an illustrator, and am a Personal Care Assistant to a really cool lady. I play a lot of DnD and I love my dnd group. I’ve been in a relationship with one of my best friends since we were 15. We are engaged, live together, play video games and DnD, and have cats.

I post my thoughts here. I post my art here. These are my cats. This is my face.

I am not always right. I am still learning.

Do not cite me as an expert or trust my implicitly. I am happy to give my thoughts on and discuss any issue, and I do try to research my points before I make them, but I am not an authority.

My ask box is always open. I will respond privately if you ask me to. If I respond publicly I will tag it with your URL so you can find it easily (unless you ask me not to). I tag all asks with “ask” and all anons with “ask” and “anon”. If you send me an ask and I don’t respond it might be because Tumblr ate it, and I never received it, or because I have ADHD and sometimes I forget to respond to things. In either case feel free to send the ask again. I do not consider this rude.

—

I am careful to always tag for things like racism, transphobia, ableism, etc., as well as death, blood, horror cops, spiders, etc., so people can blacklist them.

I am usually happy to add to this list if you have a phobia or trigger and need me to, just ask. If for some reason I’m uncomfortable tagging a particular subject, I will not be offended if you unfollow me (I’ll also just NEVER be offended by that; you do you)

Some navigation help for my blog:

current events - this tag is reserved for whatever the most recent important (and awful) thing happens to be.

Disney’s Frozen - this tag is referencing all of the problems with that movie (the first one), including general discussion about the sexism in how women are animated. It accidentally became my “misogyny in animation” tag, sorry!

Statistics - this tag is for all posts with specific statistics about social injustice.

real talk - this tag is for short posts that I feel most clearly and succinctly summarize issues of social injustice.

Boost - any post that involves petitions, fund raisers, sales, or other things I want people to not only see but interact with.

Fandoms:

I’ve been in fandom for a long time. I’m here to have fun, and am not comfortable with the current online purity culture of throwing shame at people who enjoy harmless things that you don’t. Fandom is not always about what we wish was real or canon; sometimes it’s about the opposite of that on purpose. 

I’m a polyshipper and a multishipper, though I definitely have OTPs and sometimes don’t enjoy seeing those pairs with other people. This is personal preference, and not a judgment on others. 

I try to stay out of fandom discourse and mainly reblog art I like. Occasionally, though, I do reblog criticism of fandom specific bigotry. 

Just because I reblog stuff from a particular fandom doesn’t mean I necessarily like everything about the piece of media, where/who it came from, or the direction it went. I value fandom because of the power to make the stories we’re given into the stories we wish we’d been given, AND the power to turn stories we love into whatever we’re vibing with at the moment.

Harry Potter was a formative fandom for me, so despite hating JKR I will still engage with fanworks related to it. I tag anything Harry Potter with “hp”. I tag everything relating to JKR with “fuck you JKR”.

Anything related to Tolkien’s Middle Earth stories is tagged “lotr”, anything about the MCU is tagged “Avengers”, and anything related to Avatar the Last Airbender is tagged “Atla”. 

I tag anything from the Tales of series with “Tale of” as well as their individual game titles. Anything from MOST Fire Emblem games gets lumped together under “Fire Emblem” but Three Houses is “fe3h”. Similarly, Most Final Fantasy games get “Final Fantasy” while 14 gets “ffxiv”.

Other media I particularly love off the top of my head (and their associated tags), or at least that I often reblog about, includes: Critical Role (and CR2), Phoenix Wright, She Ra (tag: “shera”), Saiyuki, Yu Yu Hakusho (tag: “yyh”), Undertale, The Good Place. Mad Max, Naruto, Miraculous Ladybug (tag: “miraculous”), Legend of Zelda (tag: “zelda”)

Personal tags:

My favorite meta (good meta makes the world go ‘round)

My favorite things on this whole damn site (I love this)

Stuff that’s purely positive (decency, and wholesome)

Things that remind me of my friend group (me and mine and ours)

Mron (things that remind me of and inspire me to work on my sci-fi story about androids)

Embalar (things that remind me of and inspire me to work on the fantasy story/video game/dnd homebrew setting I’m actively working on)

The Fog (things that remind me of and inspire me to work on my fairy tale story, which includes mermaids)

recipes

lifehacks

poetry

art refs (specific tags for: costume design, character design, god design, monster design, creature design, hands, feet, muscles, anatomy, facial expressions, hair, body types, clothes, dresses, fat art, etc., and specific tags for mythical creatures: mermaids, centaurs, vampires, demons, dragons, gryphons, sphinxes, harpies, etc.)

art (specific tags for: sculpture, painting, illustration, music, art history, installation art)

books, games, shows, and movies I wish existed (tumblr books)

furniture, appliances, and house stuff that I would love to have the money to have (want)

pretty jewelry that I want but would never wear because I don’t wear jewelry (for my dragon hoard)

–Nate