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casifer-is-king · 3 years

Text

Goldfish

PI!Frankie Pt. 2 (Private Investigator Frankie Morales Pt. 1)

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rating: M

Warnings: some language, sexual situations: dry humping and making out.

A/N: I can't get this these two out of my head so I just keep writing hah. It is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

Frankie is bored out of his mind - watching some high up bank employee as he sits through some shady meeting - when his phone pings.

Pollito: Today's the day. At 3pm tonight I will officially be a divorced woman. And by 9pm I will hopefully already be drunk on celebratory drinks! Are you gonna come have a shot with me??

Sorry dulzura I have to work.

Pollito: Bank dude still? You must be slipping, Mr. Morales. You've been stalking that guy for weeks now.

Please don't call it stalking woman. It's surveillance. And I'll have you know I'm about to close this one.

Pollito: Oh I don't doubt you. You're the best investigator I know XD

Frankie shakes his head with a grin. The meeting he's been watching seems to be coming to a close, so he throws some money down for the coffee he'd ordered and walks out to his truck. He looks over the information he gathered from this most recent surveillance and knows that tonight is going to be the best night to follow up on it. He just wishes he could put it off. Spending the evening celebrating with you sounds like a much better time. Especially after everything you've gone through this past month with the divorce.

In the past few weeks, the texting between the two of you had been just as constant as ever, but you had added hanging out together to the mix as well. There had been one dinner so far, which you insisted on paying for, claiming you'd never pay him back if he paid. Then there had been a couple of times you went out for drinks, but Frankie did pay for those even through your complaints that you can pay for yourself.

It was all friendly, though. Not that Frankie didn't want to move on from friendly. He just didn't want to push that move too quickly. You were already stressed enough without him adding his own shit to the mix. So he goes on being the supportive friend, ignores his growing feelings and focuses on work.

And it's a plan that works well for him up until this night.

It's almost midnight when the next text from you comes through.

Pollito: where ar youuuuuu

I'm working Pollito.

Pollito: but yo should be here drikinh with me Fishyyyyyyyyy

Sometimes Frankie really wishes he hadn't told you about his Delta call sign, but he can't help but smile down at his phone as he waited for whatever you were typing now.

Pollito: I need a ride home :(

I thought you had it covered dulzura

Pollito: nuh hh. Come get me?

Frankie bites his lip and peeks up through his windshield. A man in a suit is walking up to the door Frankie has been watching for the past hour. One more glance at the slew of little sad faced begging emojis you had just sent and Frankie was out of his truck and closing the distance to his target with long strides.

Simultaneously hitting record on his phone and pressing a forearm into the target's chest, Frankie quickly takes control of the situation. “This is being recorded. Now I want you to tell me what you and your buddies are doing here tonight?” he asked in a tone that commands an answer.

“Get off me!” the man tried to push Frankie away, but ended up being pushed harder against the building behind him.

“You tell me what I want to know and you can go on your way. Now, what are you doing here tonight?”

“I will call the cops,” the guy made one last ditch attempt. His voice was weak, though, and didn't hold near the authority he had hoped for.

“That's not going to happen,” Frankie's growled out. He glared into the target's eyes for a moment, his teeth clenching. “What's going to happen is you're going to tell me exactly what you and your pals are doing in there. In as much detail as possible.”

“Ok! It's a skim operation!” The man finally gave in. He proceeded to give Frankie everything he needed without any additional prompting from the ex-special forces soldier.

When Frankie got everything he needed, he finally let up on the target, who immediately collapsed into himself. “See, that wasn't so hard,” Frankie said. “Thanks, man. I'm sure you'll be hearing from some people soon.”

Walking away, Frankie looks down to his phone. It's been 15 minutes since your last text.

I'm on my way bonita.

〰️〰️〰️

You know that you're well past drunk when you find yourself singing Total Eclipse of the Heart at a karaoke bar, surrounded by your best friends. Said friends are just as drunk as you are after too many rounds of sickly sweet shots.

You saw him as soon as he strode into the bar. He was wearing his usual baseball cap, but tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket over a tee shirt that stretched deliciously over his chest. You locked eyes with him from the stage, then followed his broad form as he made his way to the bar. With a beer in hand, he watches you sing with a warm look in his chocolate eyes.

As soon as the song is over, you're off the stage and by his side. With a huge smile you throw your arms over his shoulders and he stoops to wrap his arms around you in return.

“I'm so glad you came, Fishy!” You yell directly into Frankie's ear.

“You look like you're having enough fun without me, Pollito. And stop calling me that” Frankie retorts, pulling away with a faux glare.

“I'll stop calling you that when you stop calling me a chicken!”

Frankie laughs outright, showing off the adorable dimple in his cheek. “I promise it's just a nickname. It's not meant to be offensive.”

You glare up at the taller man, fingers still holding onto the plush leather of his coat. He only smiles down at you, though, with a fond look in his dark eyes. “Have a shot with me!” You finally demand. “We are celebrating the fact that I'm a free woman, remember?”

Frankie indulges you with a smile as you grasp one of his large hands in yours and turn him back toward the bar. He doesn't pull away, so you take that as a good sign and lightly run your thumb down the prominent vein running down the back of said hand.

Ever since the night Frankie came and kicked your ex out for good, he had been tip-toeing around you. You were more than certain that the man felt the same about you as you did him, but he hadn't made any move to go any farther than the dinner date you took him on. But every time he'd peek the tip of his tongue out when he concentrated on something you wanted to kiss him. And whenever he'd wrap his arms around you and pull you into a friendly hug, you wanted to push him against the nearest surface and leave marks across his neck. Not to mention all the little things, like watching him drive and yearning to grab his hand in yours. Or even just sitting next to him on the couch and wishing he'd pull you closer so you could just bask in his warm existence.

But, ever the gentleman, Frankie does none of those things. He texts you all day, spends time with you when he's not busy, and lets you vent to him endlessly about your divorce. And so maybe that's where the issue lies: you were technically still a married woman and Frankie is just the kind of gentleman who wouldn't make a move on a married woman? Regardless of how separated she was from her husband.

Marriage isn't an issue anymore, though, you think happily as you and Frankie down your shots of Jameson and it's subsequent pickleback in two smooth steps. Because this was your celebration as a newly single woman! You just had to make sure Frankie was aware of this as well.

Your little Frankie bubble was invaded as your friends squish up to the bar beside you. “Oh, look who made it right as we are leaving!”

“Hello, Erin. I see you two have been taking care of her,” Frankie nods toward you with a mildly facetious smile.

“Only the best divorce party for our best friend!” Ashley cheers, sloppily throwing her arms around your neck. “But our Uber is here, so it's time to pack it up.”

You can almost feel Frankie's eyes squinting at you as you turn to your friends. Oops. So maybe you had exaggerated just a little bit to convince Frankie to show up tonight. But it was worth it now that he was here. “Actually, Frankie's gonna take me home.”

Erin and Ashley exchange looks and you know, even in your drunken daze, that is time to usher them out to their waiting ride. “Come on, loves, your car won't wait forever.”

After long winded goodbyes, multiple hugs and some empty promises from Ashley that you would all get lunch the next day, you finally packed your friends into their Uber.

“Ready to go, too, cariño?” Frankie asked, looking down into your eyes.

Your head tilted to the side. This was a pet name he had not called you before. You are about to ask about it, but suddenly his large hand is covering the span of your lower back and warmth is radiating from that spot straight into your belly. With a dreamy nod, you allow Frankie to lead you across the lot to his truck. He gently lifts you into the passenger seat and his full torso covers you momentarily as he leans across to buckle you in securely.

You're struck, in this moment, by the realization of how broad this man's shoulders are. Of course, it's not something that you can miss; but in this moment, warmed by his body covering yours, he seems broader than ever. Shoulders leading to strong arms, ending with those hands. It was obvious that Frankie was accustomed to working with his hands, with long, thick fingers calloused from engine work and handling guns. But it's the little things about Frankie's hands that always captured your attention. The way they twitched when he was feeling anxious, always looking for the first thing he could to occupy them. He'd caress the table beneath his fingers, following every groove over and over again. Or when he tapped along to the music on the radio as he drove and his fingers would flex, showing off all of his tendons.

You're brought out of your thoughts when one of those fingers reaches up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. He's still close. Close enough that it wouldn't take much effort to just lean forward and place your lips on his.

But in the next instant he's retreating, shooting you a wink as he closes the door and jogs over to the drivers side.

“Did you get the guy?” You asked once Frankie had pulled away from the bar. “The one you've been watching.”

“Of course I did,” he drawls. “I'm the best, remember?”

“I am certain that's not what I said,” you laughed.

“That's what I remember you saying.”

You laugh at him, enjoying how his deep laugh harmonizes with yours, enjoying the moment with him. You wish you could drag this moment on, you think blearily. But soon enough he's parked outside your new condo and gently helping you up to your front door.

“Stay,” you whisper as Frankie fights to get your door unlocked while also dealing with you draped all over him. He grunts, just a general signal that he heard you speak, but he doesn't answer your request.

He's depositing you onto your couch when you say it again, more forceful, “Frankie. Stay with me.” You're grasping at the sleeve of his coat, both hands attempting to pull him down with you.

Frankie freezes, suddenly a statue in the middle of your living room. Seeing that you aren't going to be able to make the man budge by pulling him down, you relent your grip and move on to pouting up at him.

“Not a good idea, cariño. Not tonight and not like this.” He sounds just a little bit regretful. So you latch onto that and double down on the pouting.

“I want you to Frankie. Want you to stay here and kiss me and touch me with your pretty hands.”

Frankie groans in a way that makes you feel like you've won, but instead he takes a full step back and pulls off his hat to run his hands through his hair. The curls are messy, but they look so soft and you want to touch them desperately.

The next thing you know, you're standing in front of him and Frankie's hands are curled gently around your wrists as he's pushing you back at arm's length. “Dulzura, it is time for you to go to bed.”

You frown and whine, “don't wanna go to bed.”

“Goodnight, cariño,” was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep under your warm blankets.

Frankie 🐟: The guys are doing an early bbq then the fight is tonight.

You pick up your phone to read the text as it pings a second time.

Frankie 🐟: You're still coming right??

Of course! What time should I be ready?

Frankie 🐟: I'll be there around 3.

Sounds good. See you then!

Frankie is there at 2:47pm. It's the first time you've seen him since the day of your divorce just a week ago. You aren't exactly ready, but he only stands around impatiently for 10 minutes before you are finally out the door. The drive is across town, and 20 minutes later Frankie is pulling up to a nice little house in an equally nice neighborhood.

Frankie walks into the house without knocking, leading you through to the back door. In the back yard a group of guys are standing around a grill, two of them with beers in their hands and one with a water bottle.

“Hey! Look who finally made it!” One of the guys calls out as he sees you and Frankie approaching. A wide smile graces his handsome features.

“Hey guys,” Frankie greets, “Sorry we're late. Someone wasn't ready when they said they'd be.” Frankie ignores your huff in liew of introducing you to his friends.

You shake each man's hand, trying to match faces to names you already know: Santiago with his dark eyes, stubbled jaw and curly hair; Benny is the one with the wide smile and crystal blue eyes; and Will who's eyes match Benny's, but who has blonde hair and a beard that enhances his chiseled jawline perfectly.

“I've heard so much about you all.” It's a cliché line, but it's the truth. Frankie talks about these guys more often than he talks about himself.

“Want a beer, dulzura?” Frankie asks. When you nod he turns back to the house.

“So we finally get to meet Frankie's new best friend,” Santiago turns to you with a smile. “You and Catfish have known each other…. How long now?”

“One month, two weeks and four days,” Will pipes up from your left.

Before you can even comment on the absurdity of him just knowing that, Santiago is already going on. “Exactly! And we are only just now meeting you?! It seems a shame that Cat would keep such a niña bonita from us!”

“You know how possessive Fish can be, Pope,” Benny cuts in. “I'm surprised he didn't wait another one month, two weeks and however many days.”

The guys laugh and you join in, though yours is definitely more confused than anything. “I don't think that's it,” you reply. “Just timing hasn't matched up, ya know? But I'm glad things worked out tonight. I'm excited to see your fight, Benny. Frankie talks a lot about y'alls training.”

Frankie appears by your side again, handing you your beer bottle and casually draping an arm over your shoulders. “Ben's gonna do great tonight. He's put in a lot of work for this one and he's gonna leave that ring the champ.”

“I always leave the ring a champion,” Benny puffs up.

“Except when you get the shit kicked out of you,” Santiago says, feinting a jab to Benny's torso which leads to Benny grabbing Santiago in a headlock.

Will gives an exasperated eye roll and he and Frankie begin to drift over to the smoking grill in tandem, you being pulled along with them from under Frankie's arm. “You really thinking he's got this one?” Will asks as he opens the grill to check on the food inside.

“No doubt. He really has put the work in, and we've been working on taking advantage of Thompson’s weaknesses. Benny's the better fighter between the two anyway, so this one is a no brainer,” Frankie replies with confidence.

Will seems convinced by this and nods. “Good. He needs this win.”

They leave it at that as Benny and Santiago make their way over, still pushing at each other and laughing.

“Ok, save it for the ring, brother,” Will says to Benny. “Foods done, let's eat.”

〰️〰️〰️

Frankie downs the rest of his beer and peeks over at your own bottle. Seeing that it's nearly empty as well, he leans in and interrupts your conversation with Will by whispering in your ear, “another drink?”

You turn to him with a sweet little smile and a nod before turning right back to listening to whatever Will was telling you.

Standing and walking into the kitchen, Frankie can't help but feel happy seeing how well you're dealing with his best friends. Brothers, really, after everything the four of them had been through. Which is just another reason for Frankie to smile, knowing that the guys are going out of their way to make you feel comfortable.

Opening the fridge and grabbing two more bottles, Frankie hears the soft padding of footsteps and raises his chin to see that Benny has followed him. He steps back and let's the younger man grab a water bottle and a beer.

“So, you tappin’ that yet?” Benny asks with a salacious wiggle of his brows.

Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend's crudeness. "Come on, man, she just got divorced."

"Ok, but if that wasn't an issue?" Benny pushes.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if she'd even want that."

“But you are into her?"

"Of course I am, Benny!"

"Well, don't wait too long, brother. Don't let her slip through your fingers."

〰️〰️〰️

In the living room you are left with Santiago and Will. Santiago takes the opportunity of having Frankie out of the room and turns to you. “So, has Fish been treating you well?”

You're confused by the question, but answer, “of course. He's a really good friend.” You smile as you lower your head.

“But I'm sensing you're maybe interested in more than that?” Santiago pushes.

“Um, well, I'm just kinda going with the flow. He's just kinda been there for me through a whole shit storm,” you explain.

“Well one of you is gonna have to make a move at some point.”

Before you can deny anything, Will comes to your defense. “Come on, Pope. This isn't an interrogation here.” You smile at the man appreciatively, but then he ads: “anyway, we both know Frankie is gonna take his time making any moves."

The conversation is cut short when Benny saunters back into the room, presenting you with another beer in a flourish.

“Do you do any fishing?” Santiago changes the topic swiftly.

“Not at all,” you laugh.

“Don't like fish?”

"More like fish don't like me. I had a goldfish once, but it died pretty much as soon as I got it home."

“How do you murder a goldfish?” Benny asks, looking your way incredulously.

“I don't know! I did everything the guy at the store told me to do.”

“Well, lucky for you, it's ok if the ones you catch die, goldfish killer,” Benny jokes. “The goal is to eat them anyway.”

“I don't know. I have zero experience with fishing,” you protest.

“Don't you worry, we will teach you everything there is to know,” Benny says with a wink. “I hear catfish are pretty easy to catch.”

Santiago snickers and you see Will try to hide a smirk.

“Is that what you guys usually fish for?” You ask, trying to gain some context for the comment and following reaction.

“No, darlin’, it's not,” Will answers, his smirk evolving into a smile. “But we will be happy to have you come with us whenever you want to tag along.”

“Where are you guys trying to take her, hermano?” Frankie asks as he re-enters the living room. You notice that his lips are turned down slightly and his brows are pinched, creating that worry line between them that he sometimes gets when he's thinking too hard about a case.

“Just offering to teach the goldfish killer how to do some real fishing.” Benny's smile is wide and definitely leaning away from innocent.

“It was literally just one goldfish,” you mumble.”It's not like I'm some mass goldfish murder.”

Frankie pats your shoulder as he takes his seat beside you, “of course not, cariño. I know you'd never purposely hurt a fish.” His tone was only mildly sarcastic, so you let him off with a glare.

“Well you might have to break that rule once we get out to the lake with a hook in the water, but I think you'll manage just fine,” Benny laughs. “Here, put your number in my phone!”

Benny's phone is slapped into your palm, so you have no choice but to comply with his request. He also grabs for your phone and unlocks it to immediately start adding his contact info in return. Only seconds after you have swapped phones back, your own phone alerts you to a message. Opening the screen you note that you have now been added to a group message labeled “Operation Teach Goldfish To Reel In A Big Catch”. You see Frankie listed in the chat, as well as two other phone numbers that are not saved in your contacts.

“Kinda long for a chat name, don't ya think?” You comment, raising one brow toward the younger Miller brother.

“It's a working title,” Benny laughs out loud. “Now let's get going, guys. I have a fight to win!”

There were only a few people there when you got to the venue where the fights were being held. You go back and watch Benny warm up, surprised that the goofy guy from back at the barbecue has now turned deathly serious. He's definitely in his element here. Frankie and Will offer some pointers and words of encouragement until it's time for him to go change.

“I'm gonna go get our seats,” Frankie says as you all file out towards the changing room.

“You're not gonna walk out with me?” Benny sounds suddenly anxious.

“I don't wanna leave her alone, hermano,” Frankie explains, gesturing toward you.

Benny's brows pinch together and his frown deepens.

“I can go save the seats myself,” you assure with a smile at both men.

“Are you sure, cariño?” Frankie looks mildly worried, but he's also glancing back to Benny, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“Of course! You guys do your manly ritual stuff and I'll be out there when you get done.” Turning toward Benny you give him a bright smile, “good luck out there!”

The smile Benny gives in return is full of relief and appreciation. “Thanks, Goldfish.”

“That's… You didn't forget my name already, did you?” You ask hesitantly.

Benny laughs outright at that. “Of course not, sweetheart. But Goldfish Killer is too long to say every time.”

With a huff and an eye roll you try to hide the smile that's creeping into your face. “Ok, asshole. You go focus on not getting knocked out in the ring.”

“Not a chance of that happening,” he retorts with a wink before turning to go into the changing room.

Frankie turns to you once more. “You sure you'll be ok out there?” He asks once more.

“I'm positive, Morales. You go make sure Benny is ready to win this thing.”

Frankie smiles down at you with a soft look in his eyes. “Kay. I'll see you out there soon.”

People are starting to trickle in as you enter the arena and scope out for the seats Frankie had mentioned earlier where they usually sat. They are in the front row and still open, so you make sure to stake your claim on four seats and sit down to wait.

You're scrolling through social media when a shadow falls over you. You look up and see a man standing next to you, waiting to catch your attention. “Hey, are these seats taken?” He asks.

“No, those ones are free. I just have these ones on my left,” you smile politely.

“Thanks,” the guy smiles back before taking the seat next to you. You focus back on your scrolling for a moment before the guy speaks again. “Should be a good fight tonight, huh?”

Looking back up, you see the stranger is still addressing you. “Yeah, I'm sure it will be,” you respond.

“Who are you betting on?” He asks.

“Ben Miller,” you answer without a thought.

“Really? Ok,” the guy laughs.”I'm Nick, by the way.”

You give him your name in return and, with mild reluctance, allow him to engage you in a conversation.

It's 20 minutes before the lights dim and loud music starts pouring out of the speakers. You turn to focus on what's happening, but Nick leans closer to say something else. In that moment, you feel Frankie settle into the chair to your left, his arm automatically falling across your shoulders and he's pulling you toward him.

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry that took so long.” Frankie's voice is deep, but usually it's a soft gravely sound that drapes over you like a warm, wool blanket. In this moment, though, his voice has turned stentorian. It's so clear, even over all the background noise, that you are sure Nick has heard every word without issue.

To prove that point, the stranger immediately backs off.

You smile up at Frankie thankfully as Santiago and Will make their way over, passing beers to you and Frankie. He takes his beer in his left hand and keeps his right arm firmly around your shoulders. Accepting that he wasn't going to move any time soon, you subtly lean toward him and focus on the fight that's starting in the ring.

As the second fight begins and the announcer introduces Benny, the solid arm moves from your shoulders and Frankie's hand drops to your thigh. The weight of that hand causes your stomach to flutter as he gives one squeeze of his strong fingers.

You glance over to the owner of the warm hand and see that he is leaning over Santiago, listening to something Will is saying.

You take the opportunity and bring your hand up as well. You allow yourself to touch the denim of his jeans, feeling along the solid span of his thigh, moving inward until the tips of your fingers are touching the inner seam of them.

His hand squeezes your thigh again, this time just a hint harder. Not a warning to stop; probably not even something he meant to do, you realize after peeking up at his face through your lashes. Frankie is straight faced, appearing to be watching as Benny gains the upper hand early on his opponent. But his eyes flicker down to your quickly every few seconds, and each time you catch him you move your hand just a little farther up his leg.

〰️〰️〰️

Frankie's arm is around you again, but this time he has you pulled firmly into his side as he leads you down the hallway. The announcer had barely finished announcing Benny as the winner before he had grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the arena. With one sharp turn he leads you through one of the doors along the hall and has you backed against it in one swift motion.

“I've been waiting to kiss you for so long,” he growls into your neck.

“So why haven't you already?” You counter. And that's all it takes for Frankie's lips to come crashing down on yours.

It's a rough meeting of mouths, both of you having lost all patients after weeks of waiting for this. His mustache tickles you and you giggle a bit at the sensation of his facial hair as well as the euphoria of finally kissing this man after dreaming about it for so long. He takes this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you eagerly accept.

The kiss has melted into a deep exploration of each other's mouths while his hands find their way up your sides. Those hands cover your ribcage, up just below the swell of your breasts; he caresses the very bottom of them with just his thumbs before both hands continue toward your back. He traces fingertips down each vertebrae of your spine until he reaches your ass and firmly takes a handful of each cheek.

This action causes you to be pulled closer to his body and it's that moment that you realize he has slotted his leg between your thighs. The friction causes you to gasp and your head falls back against the door. Frankie takes this opportunity to begin exploring your exposed neck, mapping out all the places that make you moan and squirm on his thigh.

You move your hands up to push your fingers through his curly hair, knocking his hat off in the process. As his mouth meets the juncture of your neck and shoulder, electricity flashes up your spine and you grip a handful of his hair in one of your fists. The pull on his scalp rips a moan from deep in his chest and he jerks his hips into yours. With this added closeness, you can clearly feel his excitement pressing into your hip.

You drag a hand slowly down Frankie's body, feeling all the firm muscle of his shoulder and pecs, traveling further down his stomach until you reach the edge of his tee shirt. His mouth has migrated toward the other side of your neck as you push your hand up under the bottom of his shirt, fingers dancing across skin covered in a speckling of hair, following the trail down to his belt and…

Suddenly both of your phones are vibrating at the same time. You squeak loudly as you feel his phone through the pocket of the leg he has firmly pressed into your center.

“Fucking shit,” Frankie curses, stepping away from you and reaching into his jeans for the phone. “Fucking assholes,” he curses again, turning the phone to show you that Santiago is calling him.

You fall back onto the door and retrieve your own phone with shaking hands. It's Benny calling you, which you allow Frankie to see with a shake of your head and sardonic smile. He huffs out a deep breath and ignores the call.

“Guess we better find them,” Frankie sighs, running a hand over his kiss-swollen lips.

“Yeah, we should do that,” you agree, running your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame it. Once you both have composed yourselves to the best of your abilities, you allow Frankie to open the door and lead you out with a hand low on your back.

Immediately you hear Benny's voice hollering from down the hall, “Well well well, there they are.”

You feel your whole body cringe before turning toward the rowdy voice, knowing full well your face is flaming red from both embarrassment and where Frankie's stubble had rubbed your skin sensitive.

“And where have you been?” Benny questions as the three men approach.

“Around,” Frankie answers, barely nonchalant.

Benny laughs loudly, but Will expertly leads him continuously down the hall. Though not without throwing you and Frankie a knowing smile.

“Did you lose your hat while you were “around” exploring random storage rooms?” Santiago inquires with a leer as he also sweeps past the two of you, following the Miller brothers.

Frankie's hand shoots to his head and he runs his fingers through uncontained hair. He curses under his breath then turns to hastily swoop his hat from the floor and place it back on his head.

When he stands back to his full height, he pauses a moment to gaze at you. The corners of his eyes crinkle into a smile as your eyes meet his and in an instant he's leaning down to deliver a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “We better catch up or we'll never hear the end of it,” he comments.

The three men are standing around outside the doors when Frankie finally escorts you out. Benny wastes no time pulling you into their conversation. “Bar? I need a drink after that win!”

You turn to look up at the man beside you, your eyes meeting is chocolate ones instantly. The two of you have a moment of silent communication before Frankie turns to his friends. “I think we'll skip the bar tonight, hermano. You guys have fun though.”

“Oh, you hear that, gentlemen? Frankie and Goldie are gonna skip the bar,” Santiago says satirically.

“Oh, we heard, brother,” Will affirms in a matching, though more subdued tone.

“Yeah yeah, ok,” Frankie interrupts the banter. “Come on, cariño, let's go before these comedians get too deep in their skit.”

The guys laugh and start their rounds of manly goodbyes.

You turn to Benny when he's stepped back from Frankie's hug. “Great job tonight. Congrats on that win,” you smile up at him.

The beaming man instantly pounced to sweep you into a hug. “Glad we finally got to meet you, Goldfish.”

“You're not gonna give that up, are you?” You glare good-naturedly.

“I've already changed your name in my phone. Can't go back now.”

You sigh half heartedly and return Benny's hug. “It was nice to finally meet you too,” you pull away with a sincere smile.

Back on the ground you get a side hug from Santiago and Will offers a friendly nod and a smile. Then, with one last wave, Frankie grabs your hand and leads you to his truck. After each of you are buckled in, he turns to you with hesitant eyes.

“So….” he doesn't hold eye contact for long, quickly tipping his head forward to hide behind the bill of his hat.

You smile at how cute he is, here in this moment. A distinct difference from the man who had you crowded against a door and rubbing yourself all over his thigh not even 15 minutes ago.

“So, I have this new condo full of brand new furniture, if you wanna check it out,” you suggest.

“Sounds perfect to me,” Frankie agrees, reaching over to grab your hand as he sets off toward your house.

✨✨Three✨✨

#triple frontier #pi!frankie #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

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yan-twst · 4 years

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That one request with a crush on lesbian mc with the dorm leaders really got my heart thumping💓💓💓. Can I request a crush on lesbian mc this time with the first years? 😳😳😳 I really love your writing thank you sm❤❤ Hope you're doing well!!

once again hell yeah lesbians rise up!!!

ace trappola

ace is like. ok well this sucks for HIM a little bit because of course he managed to crush on a girl who just so happens to be a lesbian

but he’s also just... kind of relieved? it’s way less awkward to be turned down because of that than if just... if she was straight and just turned him down.... just thinking of that is horrifying

he might try to talk about his past relationships with her because uh, bonding between people who... like women...? but it kinda backfires because she just reaffirms he was kind of an asshole to his ex girlfriends. he might even be forced to call them and apologize

all in all, ace is just glad to keep one of his closest friends. it’s a thousand times better to have a little one sided crush that simply can’t be returned on his friend and continue being friends, than if he were to date them and then it didn’t work out and the friendship was ruined

being the little shit he is, he won’t hesitate to find the situation hilarious. is it fun to be a lesbian stuck in an all boys magic school? whatever kind of accident or magic that sent her here really did her dirty. doesn’t she know of all the prestigious girl-only schools out there? too bad! she’s stuck with The Boys

this revelation is also very very good for his own sake. ace used to get jealous when he saw her hanging out with other men, especially if she seemded to be too friendly with them- and he’d usually just express that displeasure with teasing or just huffing and crossing his arms.

now? oh, he feels nothing but smugness when he sees another dude being suspiciously kind and cooperative with her- because if they really are trying to subtly flirt with her, welp, then they got a big surprise coming and he finds it hilarious to know they’re gonna get the same surprise he did

deuce spade

deuce is the kind of kid who somehow has like, lesbian aunts he hangs out with, and at the same time does not know what a lesbian is. don’t ask how that works because he doesn’t know either until everything clicks in his brain

deuce’s immediate reaction is to get flustered. it’s a mix of embarrassment because now he feels like he should have noticed sooner...? and also because he’s mortified he might have annoyed or offended his friend

he apologizes for crushing on her, despite her telling her it’s really not a problem? it’s flattering, really? deuce is so busy apologizing and fretting because he, bless his heart, genuinely feels like he did something wrong

you know that trope of the slightly dumb but golden-hearted jock who is besties with the lesbian? this is that. it’s quite literally that

deuce still wants to bring her over to meet his mom even if it’s just as a friend. he’s talked too much to his mom about how amazing she is, so now he has to introduce her to his mom. he- he’ll make sure his mom understands it’s not a dating thing!! don’t worry!!

deuce becomes even more wary of the students that try to get close to his friend now. before, it was infuriating to see the boys all be so keen on getting close to the one single girl in the whole school, but he tried to reason that if she liked to meet new people, he shouldn’t get in her way, but... if it’s flirting, deuce has no problem acting as her personal guard to shove clingy and hard-headed dudes off

jack howl

fun fact there are records of homosexuality amongst grey wolves

in fact this isn’t even something that shocking to jack...? maybe it’s because there’s a handful of gay beastfolk in his pack so he simply doesn’t assume people are straight by default, so when his crush tells him she’s a lesbian he’s like oh fair enough

sure, it’s not like he isn’t a bit sad; he did have a crush and it’s never easy to let go of those emotions. but once again, he did kind of always consider this as a possible outcome, so it’s not like he’s completely thrown off his groove

besides, even though he might act strong and tough, it’s clear jack is a complete softie and values his friendship with her more than anything else. he lets her have some of his cacti when baby cacti grow in their pots. he doesn’t let just anyone touch his plants

if there’s one change, it might be that jack becomes more insistent on taking her out to train with him. in his own words, she’s “gotta be strong to support her future wife” or something- it’s his way of looking out for her

he’s simply so, so glad things turned out fine. being as hard-headed (as tsun, as she calls him) as he is, he had refused to even acknowledge he had a crush for a long time, and once he did, he was stressed it’d ruin this... just really nice friendship he didn’t think he’d find at NRC. but once everything is all talked out, it’s like a stone has been lifted off his chest. he’s fine, she’s fine, they’re still friends: this is all he could ask for, really

epel felmier

you cannot convince me epel’s little farming village didn’t have at least a couple little old gay grandmas that all pretty much adopted him as a grandson and all baked apple pies for him and gave him little embroidered handkerchiefs for his birthday. this is a fact and you cannot change my mind

when his darling first tells him she’d just... never be able to feel the same way, he’s crushed at first. it’s more of the shock of the rejection than anything else: he hears all she says, but he’s not listening

it takes a couple hours for it all to sink in. oooh. ooooh. ooooh it all makes sense now

he’s so embarrassed about how he first of all never bothered ask if she was even into men, and second of all how he reacted to being turned down for the most logical reason on earth, that he’s fretting over how to apologize. he almost considers asking rook for help but quickly realizes that would be the worst decision he could ever make.

he wants to show that it’s ok!! even if he got turned down and even if he did crush on her it’s cool and he still wants to be friends!! he’s a man and he’s only going to get manlier so of course a romantic relationship could never work, but... he still wants to maintain their friendship!!

he most likely comes over with a carved apple and an apology so genuine that his country accent slips out heavily. everything he’s said he still means! even if it’s just as friends, he still wants to take her to his hometown to pick apples, and he still wants her to be on front row when he’s playing magift- because she’s his closest friend!

sebek zigvolt

honestly yeah this works out yeah

sebek’s biggest stressor is that his crush doesn’t let him concentrate on protecting lord malleus. silly little romantic thoughts about his friend make him get distracted for one second and then poof lord malleus has gone to explore some abandoned building and now him and silver have to comb the entire campus to find him

he’d actually planned to bottle it up until it went away, but it wasn’t going away, so lilia pushed him to confess saying he’d “feel better once he got it out”. and what he got from it was a gentle rejection and an explanation that she’s actually just into girls, which was... a relief??

sure, it hurts a little. a lot, actually, because sebek is already terrible at managing his emotions. but once he looks at the situation, he... feels like it’s actually quite a good deal

he gets to keep his closest friend (although he’d be dead before saying something so cheesy about them), his little crush has been popped and deflated so he can go back to guarding malleus, and it almost feels like there’s just... more trust between him and her?

in the end, sebek is just happy to have someone to be friends with, even if he’d never admit it. sure, he might say lord malleus is all he needs in life, but lilia can attest that sebek looks equally as happy- if not happier- when he’s hanging out with his friend than when he guards malleus

#twst #twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #Anonymous

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mar-iiposa · 4 years

Note

Hi, how're ya? ^^ How the beyverse turtles would react on their first time riding a horse? (I know, it's not a comum question :D I've been thinking about it)

a/n: hi! I'm good, thank you ! congrats to being my first request. what an odd request for a headcanon, never really thought about turtles riding full on horses lmao. I, myself, have only been on one for a mini-photoshoot when I was in preschool, but definitely had a horse phase shortly after that. well, here you go !

how do I put this in a way that, at the very least, makes some partial sense yet somewhat proves the point

okay so you know how horses are depicted as beautiful, graceful, and free-spirited creatures?

imagine that depiction. but with a 6 ft tall turtle on top of it.

that's how leo looks on top of an entire horse.

feels heroic, like he's about to lead his army into a deadly battle

at first, the he's a little hesistant, "do I really have to get on this thing? How did a horse even get down here?"

"leo, donnie can literally get on the horse with all of those gadgets on, you'll be fine."

donniewearinghisgadgetsnotthehorse

he's seriously overthinking this

if you're on the horse with him, that'll probably calm his nerves down, immensely

if not, sucks for him lmao

"fearless ain't so fearless anymore, huh?"

"shut up raph." he's so done with his younger brother(s)

but as SOON as he gets on this horse, all of his previous worries just 🌠 wash away 🌠

"oh, well this isn't so bad."

"what else did ya think, numbnuts?" there goes raph again-

takes the horse around the lair, like a great warrior or something

"on a crusade now?"

leonardo sends his second youngest brother an unphased stare before carefully trotting off with the horse towards the dojo

"no horses allowed in the dojo, leonardo" "yes dad"

a little disappointed when they have to return it, but he knows it's for the best :)

"no."

"why not??"

"I'm gonna fall off the thing."

"that thing is a horse, raph."

as we know, Raph, the muscle of the team, is scared of heights

pretty obvious

but is he scared of falling off the horse? you bet your ass he is

almost fALLS WHILE MOUNTING THE HORSE

once he's on the horse, he's all stiff and awkward

"what do I do now?"

once he gets the hang of it, he noticed that he starts to really bond with that horse

gives the horse a name in his head, he doesn't tell anybody

"get yer ass up here with me."

you're just partially speechless at the sudden command. but nevertheless, you end up on the horse, holding onto raph

just strolls around on top of the horse, it's so therapeutic for him??? oddly enough??

a little sad when he has to say his goodbyes

everyone else, but you, tend to not notice the final look he gives the horse

he was so attached to it already

"I know you miss them"

"shut up-"

"I absolutely have to?"

"yes donnie."

"is there some sort of logical reasoning explaining that I really have to?"

"just get on the damn horse-"

won't shut up about it

"you know, there are over 100 deaths a year related to horse-riding and technically spe-"

"get on the damn horse, donnie!" raphael hollers from the other end of the lair

"a-alrighty then."

he hesitates a little mounting the calm creature

instantly falls in love with the horse. instant connection

"I am naming them cornelius."

GIVES CORNELIUS A LITTLE TOUR OF HIS LAB

and shows him the monitors on his computers

cautious around it though, who knows if the horse is a spy

won't stop blabbering on and on about fun facts for horses

petting cornelius and carefully brushing their silky mane

he's fallen head over heels for this horse, watch out y/n

doesn't experiment on the horse because although the dude loves to experiment, he won't do it on animals :(

feeding cornelius carrots and apples !!

"say goodbye to the horse, donnie"

"we'll meet again, cornelius-"

saddened by the bittersweet departure

would still do anything for cornelius

actually the one who somehow managed to bring it into the lair

"giddy-up!"

conquers the horse

"where did you get it fro-?"

"the world may never know, donatello."

"he stole it from this birthday party."

"ah, ah, ah! I'm borrowing it!"

apparently he knows how to get the horse back to their ownner

he doesn't. yet.

TRIES TO FEED THE HORSE PIZZA

"donnie, do you think bobby can eat pizza?"

"well no, I think pi- you named it "bobby"??"

"he looks like a bobby. right, y/n?"

"just don't give bobby any pizza, mikey."

mikey doesn't even google the question as to whether or not horses can consume pizza

thank god he's right

headcanon that mikey brings the horse into raph's room, riding it, and it turns into a chaotic mess

the horse poops in raphael's room.

a lot.

mikey sadly (but thankfully) doesn't keep the horse

after endless hours of begging master splinter to

but he does visit it every week or so after that so that's nice :)

Sorry if they might seem ooc at all? it's just sort of an unusual request that I'm not used to seeing around haha. feel free to request more headcanons or request a story with a specific prompt. anonymous or not is fine, just be descriptive in what you want !

#tmnt imagines #tmnt imagine #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt mikey #tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt fanart #x reader #x y/n #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #horses

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huntective-kyeo · 3 years

Text

❗Warning❗ TYPOS, SPELLING, AND GRAMMAR. And English is not my first language. Kinda angry hehehe

This is my first time to post it here and I hope you like it. Feel free to criticize my writing so I can improve.

So enjoy.

FIRST FANFIC

My Father is Dean Winchester

Dean POV

I sat down on the chair and open the lid of the beer. It's been hectic two weeks. Sam and I hunt a witch in Colorado and it took us a week to find the witch and killed it. That witch got Sam to bruise his ankle, and a concussion but thankfully nothing major injuries that needed stitches and so. Most of all the sonavabitch wore witch almost touch and probably hex my Baby which I did make her pay for it.

All in all, it took us a few days to get back at the bunker and now I'm sitting on the chair, probably wanted to eat some pies and get drunk.

My thoughts interrupt when the door opened and I looked up wonder who that person is. My instinct is to grab my trustful gun and aim it towards that intruder. However instead of getting alert, and hunting instinct it exactly quite opposite to what I feel right now.

Third POV.

A girl took a deep breath and with her shaky hand, she holds the handle and she pauses before she opened the door.

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She felt nervous to face them all. She wants to keep it secret however it keeps harder and harder to hide all the symptoms she felt during the last few months.

with heavy heart and soul, she opened the door and wish that bunker is well as empty as when she leaves it a few hours ago.

She didn't notice that the Impala, her first love park on her usual spot, she didn't notice a man sit on the chair seem like thinking something, she didn't notice her dad.

Dean POV

" y/n? " I blurted out. I didn't notice that my daughter y/n leave the bunker without telling us, or wasn't I?

Y/n my precious daughter, my little sunshine, and the only reason aside from my little brother who keeps me alive. 16 years ago Her mother and I met at the bar and happened to have one night stand. I was drunk to forget us condoms. I didn't realize it until, nine months later, Kylia found me and she shove the newly baby born into arms. I didn't hear her rants about not wanting kids because I was so fallen to my baby girl. I swear y/n is the most beautiful baby girl that I've ever seen. From that fateful night, I swore that I protect and love her no matter what.

With the help of my brother and my family, we did a good job raising a finest and yet mini-me y/n which kinda bit frustrated when she becomes a rebellious teenager and seeking for a new way to hunt.

I know that being a father and hunter ain't hood to raise a child in a world full of darkness but I did try my best to become a father that she deserved and not the father that I used to grow up

I again clear up my throat and by the time that I saw her, I know something is terrible up. Called it father instinct. My stomach began to feel something that I don't know if it's about the food or the worriedness about my daughter.

"Where have you been, I told you not to go outside not unless if you needed something but should-" I stumble and am shocked by a sudden hug coming from my daughter. My eyebrows meet and speculate more thoughts about what happened to her during a few weeks.

Then suddenly y/n cried up and my heart broke up thousand of pieces. Through I used to her cry of nonsense but this is different. I can feel it.

I began to think of a different reason why she cried like this. Is she on her period? Did a boy break her heart? If it is, then who? Oh god, my baby girl is heartbroken?! No-no-no.

" Hey, baby girl what's wrong? " I managed to ask a few words as I stroke her hair.

I didn't get her reply as she continues sobbing and sniffing on my chest. I continuously stroke her hair and rubbed a small circle on her back. With her tears I heard, I began to tear up which probably I got hurt when my baby girl gets hurt.

I saw Sam holding a can and some books and gave me confused look. I know he was confused about what is going on and the same as me. I only gave her shrug off before concentrate on keeping her calm down.

I sigh and sing a song that makes her calm down. It's a song that I always sing to her whenever she feels scared and upset. it her lullaby and till now I always sing to her when she felt like this. And now even though she's growing up ain't stopping this.

'Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better'

I sang softly and smile. I heard her sobs subside and her shoulder is no longer tensed. I kissed her head and quietly sing the rest of the song

By the song ends, y/n look up to me and hate to see her red-rimmed eyes and red nose face at me.

" Daddy... "

Y/n POV

After the song finish, I felt quite comfortable and my heart no longer pains me.

" daddy" I called up again. I hate seeing my dad worried glances and I wanted to back down but I know it's too late, now that I cried to his chest, and makes my father worried.

" what's wrong, princess " I nearly chuckle to hear the old nickname that I used to love but hate now. I should give my father annoying and death glares to him but I'm drained and tired to argue with my father.

Instead of the reply to his question, I took a piece of paper inside my leather jacket. With my shaky hand, I hesitate to give it to him. I saw my father unfold the paper and read it.

I know he reads it as I saw his face turn to a worried and horrifying face. I bit my lip as teardrops start to stream to his face and suddenly it aches my heart.

I didn't realize that my uncle Sam was there and he took the paper that my dad read it. My dad was frozen and saw Sam has the same reaction but he stumbled a bit and luckily sat on the chair or else he would hurt more.

The air was tense and several minutes seemed like a century to me as I was forced to see my dad and uncle of their horrifying reaction.

I was about to leave them and lock them up in my room but my dad grabs my wrist and put pressure on it, so I couldn't shove it off, I hesitate to look at his now red-rimmed eyes just like mine.

" Is this true? "

My heart broke as I nod

" when... When did it start? "

I flinched to hear a tone when my dad wanted a straight answer but I could see the difference of it. Instead of deadly and threatened, it's a broken and saddened tone that probably haunt me the rest of my life.

" honey, when did start... " I look up to him as a surprise to hear the familiar fatherly sweet tone that only me can know.

"a few months ago. When you just back from purgatory dad... " I mumble but I know that dad heard it because he mumbles coherent words that I know he's cursing, I wish it's not from me.

Then suddenly my dad sat down on the chair and then he hugged tightly couldn't breathe but slightly loose the tightness but still hugging me

" We can pull this up alright, we will. N/n we will fight this together okay, we'll find ways to rid this shit. We will be on your battle. " I then look up at my father and saw the tense and urging look " we will fight this out but you'll do your job ok, you'll kick this shit out, and keep fighting. Don't give up okay please, little n/n. " I heard him crack as didn't say anything considering, I was crying again and the inky response I can get is nodding.

Then I hug my father again and I feel another wrapped strong arms. I smile softly that uncle Sam joined the party. Now we are Complete, I feel like I'm ready to fight this shut out.

" Winchester is hard to kill, not even cancer. " I chuckle to hear uncle Sammy spoke.

"Yeah right, so you gonna do your part little princess, aright. Don't give up. " My father kiss my forehead. We parted away and wipes the tears we have. We laugh as we sniffle then finally our tears died down.

My father, Dean wipe the remaining tears and I look up to him confused. I saw him sad and regret my eyes and my heart sank.

" I love you N/Niepie, " then he kisses my forehead.

----AND CUT!!! ---

" Nice work J2 and Jodi damn there are no dried tears here " Robert yelled as all the staff and crew wipe their tears. " okay thirty minutes break, Jared, come to me I gotta asked you something" he added.

A group of assistants swarms the actors and did their task. Some wipe their sweats, do makeup, fixing their hair, and so on.

Jensen chuckles a little bit and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes.

" nice job dude, seem like the Days of our Lives gig paid off huh" A sixteen years old, young actress Jodi Smith tease him.

He rolled his eyes and ruffle her hair. " nice try but no you not riding my Baby" Jodi groan and about to reply when her assistant came and whisper to her ear "You're lucky, Mr. Ackles. Robert needs me now but I won't stop bothering you not until I sat on the driver seat and ride the impala".

When Jodi is out of sight, Jensen Ackles began to walk through his trailer. The thirty minutes of break is not enough of yearning for his daughter.

By the time he got inside. He locks it and sits on the couch. He rubbed his tired face as he grabs the old filthy Cinderella wallet. Today scene was emotional to him, not because of the scene itself but because he truly did miss his daughter y/n

In the finale of season 12, alongside Jack Kline played Alexander Calvert, and y/n Winchester played Jodi Smith we're both introduced and a new cast of Supernatural. Jensen was supposed to be glad that there are two new members of their family, but instead, it replaces guilt and dreadful feelings.

It's not the new cast members but the fact that Jodi Smith portrays is seem a great punch to his heart that he starts to realize he still has a daughter that should be taken care of.

No one knows not even Jared. Danneel and the kids, the crew nor the fans knew that the great Jensen Ackles has a secret daughter and only his close family knew about this truth.

" I'm sorry princess, How I wish I was there for you but you know I can't."

Jensen stroke a faded picture of an eight-year-old girl holding a doll whilst hugging the twenty-year-old Jensen Ackles.

" I'm sorry, I love you" he kisses the picture with so much love and tears began to stream down his cheeks

Hope you like it keep safe everyone. Reblog and like will yah.

#winchester x daughter reader #supernatural #jensen x daughter reader #jensen ackles #x daughter reader #dean x Reader #dean x daughter reader

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naitiaclo960writings · 4 years

Text

Day 5 - Daydream

Castiel sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he got back from his break. Don’t get him wrong, he loved that part-time librarian job he got on the campus of his university. Mainly because it helped him earn a little extra money, but also because this work pushed him to meet a whole bunch of different people in an environment that he liked.

If one had to stick to the classical patterns of students, Castiel certainly belonged to the nerds club. He was rather reserved and always immersed in a book, in his revisions or, why not, absorbed by a game on his phone. Fortunately, Castiel did not wear glasses and did not know how to recite all the decimals of Pi to perfectly fit the cliché, otherwise, he was convinced that he would have far fewer friends than now. That was the sad reality around here…

However, he continued to be greedy for new encounters, convinced that each person possessed a unique beauty that he longed to discover. All this, however, contrasted with his unrecoverable shyness, prompting him to babble in situations where he was under social pressure. Thus, this work was perfect for him: he did not have to go to others, it was the whole university that came to him. Some came to renew their student cards, others came to borrow books or ask for advice on their homework and the rest just liked to go to the library to have a quiet place to indulge in their extracurricular activities.

To top it all off, his work did not require too much effort. Castiel was mainly in charge of restocking, setting up new books and welcoming students. As a result, he had enough free time to get bored and start imagining the life of every person passing the threshold of the library. Austin Southwest Institute of Technology was not particularly large, but it had enough students for Castiel to have not yet managed to learn all the faces yet.

There was one person, however, whom he found himself waiting for impatiently every day. It was obviously irrational, this boy did not pay him any particular attention, only making small talks a few minutes before leaving to sit in a corner of the library with a headset shouting classic rock in the ears for hours. But whatever the nature of their exchange, Castiel was dying to see even the hint of a smile addressed to him on the wonderful face of Dean Winchester.

Castiel sighed with spite. Damn it, he was ridiculous. He was no better than those starry-eyed girls drooling in front of the school jocks.

…Was Dean a sportsperson by the way? It was clear that he looked pretty muscular under his over-sized shirts. One day when it was particularly hot outside, Castiel even had the privilege of seeing him in a t-shirt, his muscular arms exposed to the sun filtering through the windows and… Okay, Dean was definitely athletic. In fact, Dean seemed perfect in every way, which was embarrassing because he knew very little about the dude…

The first time he had met him—if you could call it a meeting—was three months earlier, at the start of the school year, when Dean came to ask for his library card. That smile in his voice had been immediately communicative and Castiel had stuttered like an idiot after each of his jokes. He was still blushing when he thought about it…

Talking about a crush might not be too much in this case, but Castiel felt so helpless in the face of this situation. If he’d been a little braver, he’d have asked Dean on a date a long time ago. Instead, he spent his days hoping to see him at the corner of a shelf and daydreaming about a potential early relationship with him, even if it was a friendly one.

Still, Castiel was sure that being friends with Dean wasn’t complicated. He always seemed cheerful and friendly, never out of conversation and above all, very devoted to others. Sometimes he would lean on Castiel’s desk to talk for at least fifteen minutes, talking about everything really until another student complained that he was making too much noise. These were undoubtedly the days Castiel preferred. Although Dean was very inconspicuous and attracted a lot of glares when he laughed at Castiel’s jokes — although he did not see why his words were funny —, Castiel could not bring himself to gently call him to order. His laughter was too captivating for that.

"Cassie?" A voice suddenly echoed behind Castiel.

This one was taken away from his delusions and turned around. Balthazar, another two-year-older student also working at the library, appeared and saw the absent look on his colleague’s face.

"Okay…" Balthazar sighed. "I’m not going to ask you what you were thinking about because the conversation is going to revolve around that Winchester boy and annoy me again. So…” He turned around to point to a wagon, ignoring Castiel’s jaded pout. "We received this week’s order. It’s your turn to put them in the shelves.

"It’s always my turn to put them in the shelves." Castiel deplored, moving towards the wagon, while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget those on the reserve either." Balthazar gave him a mocking smile before coming to take his place at the reception, taking out his phone without any more consideration.

Castiel shrugged and set to work. Among the shelves, it was more difficult to have a view of the entrance to the library and therefore of Dean’s arrival. But after a quick look at the clock, he realized it was already past 4:00 p.m. Castiel pinched his lips, unable not to feel this hint of disappointment at the idea that Dean would probably not come today. Suddenly, his already boring day was turning into a really bad day.

He was still dreaming of everything he could have talked about with Dean today when his foot tripped over a piece of warped linoleum and made him fall to the ground in a big crash. The books he carried in his arms were scattered on the ground while Castiel grumbled, attracting the curious glances of several students. Great… When was the day supposed to end already? Shameful, Castiel began to rise slowly, his eyes fixed on the ground, before hearing a slight embarrassed laugh.

However, he knew this sound far more than any other in this library. Biting his tongue of apprehension, Castiel raised his eyes to the source of laughter. Dean had just knelt beside him, his own affairs in his arms and looking at him with uncertainty.

"You’re okay?" He simply asked, and Castiel could not help shaking his head foolishly.

"Yes, no, it’s okay." He blushed slightly, growling inwardly. "I was distracted…"

Dean hummed softly and put down his notebooks before he began to help him pick up the books. Castiel remained stupidly motionless for a moment before imitating him, swallowing loudly. What could he have done to deserve such a humiliation today? However, Dean did not make any more fun of him and Castiel allowed himself to relax gently, glancing at Dean from time to time.

"I hate this alley too." Dean went on with a compassionate smile. "I must have stumbled at least a hundred times on the damn floor. It’s a shame, the books are rather interesting around here, but it’s at our peril." He let out a little amused sigh.

Castiel smiled back, grateful to the reassuring tone of the other student. However, he did not have time to reply that Dean resumed.

"Oh man!" He exclaimed, bringing a book to himself before smiling at the cover. "They seriously wrote a whole book about the Pi value? Damn it, my little brother taught me at least the first ten decimals of this thing."

Castiel suspended his movement before raising wide eyes to Dean.

"Really?" He asked, in disbelief, while tilting his head slightly.

This time, it was Dean’s turn to appear embarrassed and, if Castiel thought that his smile was the most beautiful expression of his face, it was only because he had never seen his cheeks turning red before. Dean raised his eyebrows toward him and scratched the back of his neck distractedly before resuming his task.

"Yeah, he loves math…" He mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Castiel felt a laughter rising in his belly without ever passing the barrier of his lips. Dean Winchester knew Pi’s decimals. He could not prevent a dumbstruck smile to come up his face.

"I think it's... cool." Castiel said after a while.

These few words had the effect of relaxing Dean somewhat, who smiled back at him after a shy look.

"Me too." Dean admitted, nodding. "He’s four years younger than me, but he’s got the brains."

Castiel lapped up everything Dean said like a thirsty man. Every detail about Dean mattered to him, and just the proud tone he used in speaking of his younger brother was enough to reinforce the emerging affection Castiel had for him. With a light heart, he lowered his eyes again to pick up the last books when his attention was drawn to a piece of paper flying close to him. Frowning, he intercepted it and nearly lost his breath when he discovered what was on it.

Some would have lingered on the beauty of the drawings before their eyes, the confident features and the shades of gray reflecting volumes to perfection. Some were wonderfully detailed and others more quickly executed, giving them a certain charm. Honestly, Castiel would surely have looked into all this himself if he had not immediately recognized his face on each of these drafts. He remained frozen in front of these miniature representations, his eyes jumping from one drawing to another. He recognized himself on each illustration: him storing books on a particularly high shelf, him bored at the desk or helping Jack with his human sciences’ homework as every Tuesday. The majority of the drawings appeared to be made from the same angle, but each breathed a surprising delicacy.

"Whoops!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. "I think that’s mine."

When he tried to take the piece of paper back, Castiel withdrew out of reach and continued to examine the sketches. Dean blushed more and more, biting his lip with mortification. Finally, in the face of Castiel’s silence, he let out an embarrassed little laugh that could not hide his anguish.

"I… Yeah, uh… My brother is more of a scientist, but… I prefer to draw." He muttered before swallowing with difficulty." "But I can assure you that I am not freak with a weirdo obsession!" Dean added in haste. "It’s just that… the light is super good here and… Uh…"

Castiel nodded slowly before turning his gaze of admiration to Dean. This one swallowed again, playing nervously with the zipper of his leather jacket. Castiel felt exhilarated, the fragile hope at the bottom of his chest never ceasing to send bursts of happiness into the rest of his body. When he offered Dean a big, hesitant smile, he saw Dean’s shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I find it very successful. No one had ever drawn me before." Castiel confessed, sincere.

Dean let out a deep sigh that amused Castiel a bit more.

"Okay, great, because I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest." Dean joked, not without a look still somewhat shameful, like a child caught in the act.

The two of them gathered the rest of the books and Castiel returned his drawings to Dean. At this precise moment, their looks crossed and none broke eye contact, their fingers brushing around the piece of paper. Finally, Castiel carefully followed the ridge of Dean’s nose until he reached his full lips soon joined by a piece of pink tongue that slowly moistened them. Castiel took a deep inspiration to try to stay composed, having the unpleasant impression that it did not work at all in front of these green and piercing eyes.

"Do you know which other place has great light?" Dean suddenly asked, Castiel’s attention jumping instantly from his lips to his eyes.

"Tell me?" He replied, bending his head to the side again.

"Bobby’s café three blocks from here, on the main avenue." Dean smiled with a pout that twisted Castiel’s stomach in all the right ways. "Tomorrow, 5:00 p.m.? I think I really need to practice my shadows…"

And although Castiel wanted to contradict him on the quality of his drawings, he felt his throat tightening to Dean’s words. Was it a date? Because it sounded dangerously as such and Castiel could not wrap his mind around it right now. He was probably in the middle of another one of his daydreams, wasn’t he?

"Of course, if I can help…" The words left his throat by themselves and Castiel was almost sure to gain a few more colors.

"Great!" Dean exclaimed, his lips stretching out in another dazzling smile. "Wait, take this in case you can’t find the address."

Immediately, Dean took a pen out of his bag to come and scribble on the paper with his drawings. When he handed it to Castiel, he noticed a telephone number with Dean’s first name beside it accompanied by a smiling smiley face. Castiel remained foolishly in front of the paper, his body having apparently stopped consulting his brain to make him ridiculous.

"T-Thank-"

"Gee, I have to go!" Dean cut him off, checking his cell phone. He put a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder before he started to walk away. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow after work, okay? We’ll walk together to the café. See you later!"

And just like that, he was gone. Castiel was still trying to figure out what had happened. Dean asked him out on a date, handing him his telephone number to give him the address before telling him that he would pick him up directly from the library. Dean who secretly drew him from God knows how long or even used a nickname at the end of their conversation. Oh and, also: Dean Winchester asked him out on a freaking date.

When the reason of his daydreams was definitely out of sight, Castiel looked again at the piece of paper before feeling a broad smile covering his face. He sighed before folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. It was good to have dreams.

* * * @winchester-reload Some more tooth-rotting Destiel fluff for you, hope you enjoyed it!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

Tag list /!\ PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT TO BE ADD TO (or removed from) THE TAG LIST so you won’t miss any updates.

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 3 years

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Coffee Shop au part four

(Segment one of three)

If I forget to tag something important please tell me.

(Present day)

(Small warning Acylius does use those he tortures for food for other demons and non mortal creatures to consume so if you have a problem with that then um just keep scrolling I guess ^^; )

What was this…that strange feeling of disappointment at seeing Black Hats chair being vacant; after all he’d only been there twice so it was not as if he was a regular customer, especially as they’d only been open for two days.

Why should the old demon stay until closing time anyway, just because he did it on the first day didn’t mean he’d do it again today, he had no reason to stay…Black Hat had been rather forward though, kissing him like that, not that he was complaining but , he wasn’t one to just play around and be used.

Friends with benefits was one thing, at least you knew where you both stood, and yet still, why did it feel so familiar, an old dream perhaps, after all who didn’t at least have one wet dream about the great Black Hat doing sordid things to your body right.

Especially with tentacles, while wearing priest robes.

Yes he had his kinks, but damn you if you tried to shame him for them.

He huffed, shoulders going slump, no this was ridiculous , feeling sad just because that idiot of a Gremlin just upped and left without so much as a good bye, Hat didn’t owe him anything and he didn’t owe Hat anything either.

Clearly he was crazy, he had finally fucking lost it, thinking of The Great Lord Black Hat owing him a good bye and a kiss on the cheek as if they were lovers, he’d just met the bastard.

No he needed to either relax or worry if the destroyer of worlds was going to ruin his café that’d he’d always wanted with his mischievous downright evil antics.

Acylius was currently grinding up their latest victim, a man who’d been abusing Nicodemus’s workers (don’t worry if you don’t know who that is I won’t be bringing him into this unless I need him for like filler scenes)

Body parts in neat piles on the counter top, ‘pork’ pies were on the menu tomorrow, this was Black Hat’s island so even the people knew some places the menu would cater to demons so if they saw the chalk was in red they knew it was demon cuisine, though of course there was always the daring person who’d ask for it anyway in which a waiver definitely had to be signed.

Hey, wasn’t going to be Acylius’s problem if they decided to off themselves on food that probably wasn’t for human consumption.

This particular man had been a pig and he was serving sow next week.

Vile beings needed to meet a vile end.

This was going to be a long night, he could manage though, at best he could manage on two nights of sleep during the week.

Currently the head of the meat sack was animated and still alive, the man was so far gone he’d reached that point of acceptance that this was happening and nothing could be done, so seeing his body being prepped for pastries and such was more amusing than anything.

“I’m a Legion demon Jake, that’s your name right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, anyway as I was saying I’m a Legion demon in this day and age that means nothing to most unless you are perhaps ancient or still follow the old ways, I have nothing to offer thee Great Lord Black Hat.”

Jake watched as the demon deboned, removed a hand and of his shaved one of his arms before washing it down to make sure all the hair was gone before slapping it into the mince meat maker.

“Last I heard your kind was like some kinda lucky charm right dude?”

“Yes, but he does not need that from me, if we did anything he would be interested in me for all of five minutes and bail, he is all shadows and darkness, I will literally spend weekends in my boxers eating cheese puffs if the week has been hard enough, hardly a turn on for someone like Black Hat.”

Acylius snapped while working on another piece.

“I dunno, some beings like to see their partners being able to feel that chill around them, but hey that’s just my jam you know, anyway stop whining, this guy is old as shit right, you don’t know, your Legion demon shit might actually put a huge boner in his pants.”

Jake taunted, smirking as he watched his killer bristle up, oooo hooo sensitive much.

You know those scenes in anime’s where the other character suddenly gets really tall, shadows where their eyes should be and their hair seems to just be blowing in the wind and there’s that broken glass sound sometimes.

That’s Acylius’s reaction as his mouth turns into a ground out grin that’s splitting wider and wider along where the scars are, ironically that injury is the reason he can smile this wide now when the demon in him starts to show.

Jake was going to die, he was already he dead he knew it so why not torment him just a little more and get it over with

“Awww no I know what it is baby demon, you want a daddy you can suckle on and-

Acylius brought the meat tenderiser down on Jake’s head repeatedly until there was only pulp left, brain matter and blood were splattered across his apron with a few deep scarlet streaks going across his cheek, how brightly the red stood out against the snow white skin.

He was staring at the mess he’d made, panting softly, pupils thin and biting his lip, alright maybe he’d enjoyed that a little too much, he frowned though when he saw the pies had been covered to, well perhaps they would still be salvageable.

Scraping the remains of the head into the bin marked biohazard he pulled the bag out and set it down getting rid of other pieces he no longer required, tomorrow non human waste disposal would be picking up the remains anyway.

Demencia had caught the show and was leaning on the door.

“Looks like you got a little too into that Lulu, sure you don’t want to tenderise me on the surface.”

(NOTE, Acylius’s nick name Lulu was made last year in November 2019 because my friend had trouble pronouncing his name, so I tried to think of a name that he’d only let close friends and loved ones call him and that’s where that comes from, not Helluva boss, just thought I’d point that out as there’s a Lulu world and Loo Loo land)

“Not now Demencia, I’m not in the mood for your jokes.”

Acylius ran his fingers through his hair, regretting it once he remembered oh yeah covered in blood; a shower would definitely be needed before bed.

“Ah I see, so the head got sassy huh?”

Flug, because yes reminder Acylius is Doctor Flug, paused at the backdoor and pouted

“Might have, he also said some very offensive words that I did not appreciate.”

Demmy folded her arms, shaking her head and smiling

“Well you showed that head who’s boss, now hurry up binch I want my cookies and hot chocolate, it’s late.”

Flug lovingly gave her the finger as he walked out the door while telling her she had two hands she could do it herself.

The back alley was dimly lit, not that he couldn’t see or choose to focus his vision to see clearer but sometimes it was nice just to appreciate light that softly glowed and curled around corners to take in the world in all different ways and settings…oh he missed rain, there hadn’t been any in nearly two months now, he missed how things glowed, street lamps became brighter and car lights so red and vibrant against the grey trailing along winding roads of shimmering black.

Perhaps it would soon when the snow had melted, he’d go for a long drive and listen to the rain hitting the roof of his car, patting against the windows, listening to the quiet tick, tick, tick of the vehicle when he switched on the indicator.

Yeah just drive out the middle of nowhere, strip down and run in the rain or just let it soak into his clothes as his breath streamed out in wispy clouds…

Ears twitching he heard a late party of drunks making their way home, he watched them pass by, they were completely unaware of him, if he were perhaps a rabid sort of demon they would be easy pickings, but that was not his game, at least not tonight, there was no scent that told him a wrong doing had been done, just a group of friends heading home for bed.

Snow had fallen in the tracks left by the bustling day life of the people around here and now in the silence he wondered was he lonely, Demencia’s offers had sometimes had been all too tempting simply out of need for comfort and to be close to someone, sometimes it seemed she needed it just as much as he did when they’d just lean on each other and complain about their day.

Looking up he found someone watching him from the shadows, well more saw a pair of eyes, completely yellow, no white to be seen, oranges and reds, as if he were looking at the sun, shivering as a breeze rolled through he pulled down his sleeves, goose bumps rising, a tingling down his spine, just the little things that reminded him he was alive, he was not afraid of what lingered in the shadows, there was no sense of danger.

Perhaps they were a Legion fan , someone caught off guard by his appearance, after all Flug knew his scars could be quiet unsettling to some people…though come to think of it he did sense an air of fear about this being, still they were wide and unmoving.

Really the sensible thing to do would be to just go inside and ignore this creature, yet something kept him there a longing to talk to it, placing the garbage into the bins he smiled just a little

“You know stranger, you remind me of someone…someone I feel like I should know.”

Acylius’s ears lay flat as he heard them softly whimper, it sounded so sad.

“I am sorry, I was not being offensive I assure you, this person I speak of was very kind, at least he was in the dream, I dreamt when I was little , funnily enough a night like this, Mother had locked me out…”

He held one hand in the other looking at them, fingers curling around his thumb

“My fingers were so cold and red I could barely feel them, or the rest of myself to be honest…heh you probably do not want to hear the tired ramblings of an out of date demon.”

“No, please continue.”

There was silence again, that whispered voice, it comforted him, made him feel at ease, this indeed truly was a strange day.

“Mother had locked me out, I didn’t cry or beg her to let me back in, I knew she would not open the door, so I laid down cheek to the snow, despite being almost numb my face burned, my face…”

Tracing along his scars as he recalled the moment could not help but wince

“I had to be careful still they had barely healed by that point, but I remember how good the cold felt on them, red and angry they seemed to only be satisfied when pressed to the freezing earth, I knew that night or at least believed I was going to die and…I was alright with that until I saw a pair of eyes just like yours.”

Acylius took a step forward only stopping when he saw this being step back

“They were gold, I thought they were so beautiful , I thought maybe the angels we were told about were not so bad if they could come for something like me, his claws hands reached down for me but I didn’t see his face, all I heard was that I was coming home with him and his name…his name was…”

Acylius held his head in his hands, scrubbing them down his face

“His name was Cruentus.”

When he looked back at where the eyes had been there was only darkness, the demon in the dark had disappeared so quickly he wondered for a moment if they’d even been there.

No, nope, nope, that dream was not real, that being was not Cruentus, it was all coincidence and he was just exhausted, yes that was it, perhaps he should sleep tonight, or maybe he’d snacked on too much of Jake while he was working, or had too many sugary treats either way, it was pies in the fridge and off to bed.

Opening the back door he locked it behind him, ignoring the fact Demencia was chomping on one of the pies, after all she knew what was in them if she wanted to eat it that was up to her, his mind was elsewhere.

“Mmmm you tenderized this one good, Legs, nice and juicy.”

Usually her friend would react to that name, at least grunt or gently nudge her and tell her not to call him that, something was clearly bothering Acylius.

“Legs?”

Demencia asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, only for him to turn and pick her up by the front of her shirt, snarling as he did so

“Do not call me that name!”

Looking down at him, Demencia could really see something wasn’t right here, was he remembering something to do with that name, like it had always annoyed him, but that glare, the disheveled hair and fangs all bared …honestly in another situation he would be hot as fuck…alright she was already thinking he looked hot as fuck but this was not the time or place.

Touching Acylius’s face lightly, she watched as his ears flicked, his breathing was ragged, his eyes returning from being solid blue to having pupils and irises again, her hands were warm and comforting and he found himself leaning into them, lips pressed against her palm…she was there to ground him in his bad moments and he could never thank his friend enough for that.

“You mind setting me down you tree.”

Demencia laughed softly.

He carefully set her back down and pulled her in for a hug

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I would never hurt you, never.”

Nuzzling against his chest and wrapping her arms around him, patting his back

“Hey, hey now, none of that you dumb tree, I know you have gaps in your memory, did you remember why do you don’t like that name?”

“Hate, I don’t just dislike that name, I hate it…all I can hear is someone called Vincent and they make me curl up and die, I have no face only a voice, if I ever heard it…I would know…”

Flug was quiet, taking in just how small she was against him, reminding him how small most were against him like this, his talons formed, slowly stroking her hair, playing with the fuchsia overlay, down to her neck where it faded to lime green, such an interesting choice of colours to wear in ones hair.

“You already know I just appeared back into existence, as if the world itself birthed me, I was somewhere forgotten…and seeing Black Hat today, I think…no it is a stupid notion to think he could see me as anything.”

He kissed the top of her head, thankful that she had not let go, Demencia was the one being who never seemed to be afraid of him, who he knew he could trust and rely on in these moments where memories were trying to break through the surface and suffocated when they could not make it.

“I am a Legion demon, no more than a trinket in the end, I am a nothing in his world and I am okay with that, I have a nice peaceful life and a coffee shop just like I always wanted…”

He sat with her on the counter, as she sat on one of his thighs

“This is just a hug, you don’t need more right?”

Demmy enquired, slightly hopeful because who didn’t want to climb him, honestly, he was an idiot for not seeing he didn’t need to be some grand demon to be wonderful.

“Yes, just a hug…I wish I could say I grew up in a loving home with Christmases like in the movies, that I could tell you my life’s story, talk about a time I scraped my knee when I was small and had a mother who put cute cat plasters on me just because I like cats.”

She listened and let him stroke her hair, it’d always calmed him to pet soft things, so perhaps she might use shampoos that were just a little pricier than she’d usually buy simply to make sure her hair was soft for these broken moments no one else saw.

Even though he was not sobbing, made no notion he was crying, the damp warmth on her shoulder told her otherwise.

“I want to tell you the times my Father took me for ice cream, my first kiss with the person I fell in love with, something…anything, but there’s nothing there.”

She listened attentively until he had nothing left to say, carefully taking his hand from her scalp; Demencia held his face and looked at him

“Damn Sillyus, they really did send you back with nothing more than a leaflet.”

“I suppose, but I have so much to thank you for, when you found me on that street, I only remembered enough to get by, to survive, but you helped me to settle into this time and be a part of the modern world.”

Acylius kissed her forehead before pressing his to hers, eyes closed as he whispered

“I’m so tired of being lost, of being unsure of what I am, who I am, I just want to bake, make coffee and kill people in my basement, I think fortune smiled on me for a moment when you found me, I think I might just give you the world if you asked.”

“Awww come on dude, sounds like a love confession here, I have bills to pay off and knew there was a darker side in me, you’re the Sweeny to my Lovett.”

She teased fondly, lightly smacking the back of his head, smiling as he managed a laugh

“I guess I could agree platonically with that.”

“But honestly Slender Man, babe if you wanted to plant your tentacles and leave your seed in me I wouldn’t say no.”

Acylius rolled his eyes and shook his head, using a tea towel to wipe his face

“Honestly woman you are bloody hopeless.”

“Yeah but you love me all the more for it.”

She grinned punching him playfully on the shoulder

“Perhaps I do, but I am not as hot as you like to say I am, I hide my face, I hate when people look at my scars and pity me.”

Demmy raised a brow and climbed off of his leg, flicking his forehead

“I know you like to hide your face behind glamour and tricks but you’re beautiful even if you don’t see it dumbass, I’m starting to wonder what the fuck happened outside that had you coming back in as if someone stole your last apple crown and there’ll never be another one again on the face of the planet.”

She put the kettle on and took out the upside down pineapple cake; this was definitely a cake and tea situation

“First of all, do not say such blasphemous things, life would not be worth living without apple crowns, second of all…I think, I know I said there’s nothing there but I think I might have had a memory about my childhood involving Cruentus.”

Demencia nearly dropped the mug she was holding, setting it down she turned to face him

“Holy fucking shit, you mean thee fucking Cruentus, Hellhound butler, Hell Knight, works for the brooding clearly wants you to nail his ass Black Hat, that Cruentus…ahh I hear he has eyes like the fucking sun.”

Acylius gave her a deadpan look, hands on hips as he stood, looming over her, trying to look seriously only for it to falter

“You Demmy are just horny on main.”

“So what if I am? Gonna call me a slut like my last partner?”

She swatted away his playfully prodding hand.

“No, I never understood why it’s perfectly fine for men to have as many partners as they wish but seen as something terrible when a woman just wants to enjoy her life the same way, society is mad…also no more jokes on Black Hat you wicked beastie.”

Demencia would be lying if she didn’t admit his ability to shift from one mood to the other sometimes made her head spin, but it was clear he’d needed that moment to talk, shrugging she turned back to the kettle

“Alright, alright I’ll behave at least for now, I mean it’s clear the big bad doesn’t want you, how could he possibly want you…even though anyone with eyes could see he kept checking you out and every single coffee you brought him in hopes your stupid number was on it somewhere.”

Demencia couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at his sounds of huffing and frustration and heard him sit at the table, she did know there was stories, legends really by this point of Cruentus having a son, but you literally had to pour through footnotes and any books that might have had more information had been removed from shelves and privatized under the order of Black Hat himself.

End of segment one

(I'll try and type up segment two tomorrow)

#Paperhat #Platonic paperlizard #Mild cannibalism #villainous #Villainous au #Blood #Gore #Coffee shop #Present day

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

New Year, New Tears || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: December 30, 2020

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Deirdre need to talk before they can start the new year fresh.

Say that you'll hold me forever Say that the wind won't change on us Say that we'll stay with each other And it will always be like this

CONTAINS: brief, non-specific references to past abuse, negative self-talk

Morgan had made sure they arrived in New York in time for checking in and knocking off the first few items on the itinerary she’d devised. Initially, Morgan had organized the activities mix-and-match style according to how many hours they had at their disposal and how much time they wanted to spend in bed. In the fall, she had imagined a lot of New York would pass by behind drawn curtains while they had as many kinds of sex as they could think of and they would content themselves with only so many big things and so many little things into their three and a half days away from Maine. Today, it went like this: they dropped their bags off in their suite (in the first room, Morgan insisted they could work it out later), walked to a gourmet bakery, and took what Deirdre didn’t eat at the place up to Central Park. Then came a taxi to a cluster of rare and second-hand bookshops, and just enough time to change before catching the evening showing of Hadestown. Morgan left the theater with her arms tight around Deirdre’s waist, singing her favorite song with careless delight.

Paris had been good to them, a testament just how easy things could be. The days after stung a little, because Morgan felt weird about their bedroom, didn’t want to stay in the hotel long term, didn’t have the tiny house Deirdre had offered to help her assemble in the back yard yet, and feared latching on too hard and destabilizing herself all over again if she dove in ‘business almost as usual’ style. Because she did latch. Her heart’s freedom and her Yuletide warmth had stayed with her, sending tingles up her skin and reaching out to Deirdre to share and spread the relief between them. Touch was intuitive again, smiles came more easily--but where was the line between happiness and impending danger? She hadn’t been able to tell the difference before; would the universe guide her steps and show her now? And so every day ended a little different. Every coming and going hit a different note, some off key, some resonant with hope. But tonight, in a world so iconic and strange it seemed like something she’d dreamed, Morgan couldn’t find any of her old apprehensions. She couldn’t imagine doing anything but staying next to her love until the sun rose out their window. She tumbled into their hotel room, still singing, and kicked off her heels and jumped up for a heavy kiss. “So, you really liked it? I’ve been wanting to ask, but I couldn’t really hear in the street: which song was your favorite--no, which part in the story? I wanna know everything you’re thinking about.” She parted just to shove their suitcases off the bed and flop onto it, evening dress and all.

Human stories delighted Deirdre in a way that often felt forbidden. The fae stories focused far more on mischief and chaos and humans dying, and while those were fine, they were nothing like the stories Morgan had shown her. The kind she had come to enjoy greatly. When Morgan told her they’d watch a musical, she thought of all the ones she was familiar with; Waitress, The Sound of Music, that one about the pies with human meat, and if those Disney movies counted, then those too. But what she watched was nothing of the sort, and New York, as exciting as it had already been, seemed brighter, warmer, livelier. Was this what it was like to be human; uncomplicated and free? Could they eat baked goods, watching the sun set, going to bookstores, absorbing stories finely crafted by strangers? Could they be so....normal? Deirdre’s smile faltered for a moment as she watched Morgan flop on the hotel bed. For the duration of their trip, she kept a watchful eye over her happiness; she had been trained well in the ways it needed to be contained. And her hands, that wanted Morgan then and wanted Morgan now, needed to be reined in. They couldn’t be so normal, not yet. Normal them would have been making love by now, evening dresses crumpled on the floor. And that question would have been asked breathless, in her arms, just as Morgan remembered she never heard the answer, and had gotten distracted along the way. Normal them would have slept like that, woke up like that, went about their days exactly like that. Normal them didn’t need to worry about tamping down happiness, they simply were. But normal them was wrong, somehow, as Morgan had said it and as Deirdre struggled to understand. And normal them was gone, and present them needed to work on building a good future them so they wouldn’t break again.

But holding each other was ‘free’, and so whatever compunctions Deirdre had about intimacy now, that wasn’t one. And she fell into bed beside Morgan, pulling her love into her arms until they were tangled together the way they fit best. “You mean you couldn’t hear me over your singing,” Deirdre teased with a laugh, delighted in equal parts by memory of the show and Morgan’s glee. If she’d thought Morgan’s squealing in the snow in Paris was the happiest she might see Morgan for the year, she only wished she could go back and tell herself not to be so sure. “And you’re sure no one saw me crying in the theater, right? Because I don’t--” She cut herself off with a chuckle, “well, I don’t know. Maybe you should sing through the tracklist again so I can figure out my favorite.” With a grin, she pressed her lips to Morgan’s quickly, mumbling rough against them. “It’s better, coming from you. Oh and--” Deirdre drew back. “I have some complaints about story choices here. You said this was based on something? Why did he turn around? That’s just--” She pouted. “It was mean. You didn’t tell me it would be a sad story.” Admittedly, not Deirdre’s favorite kind of story--tragedies left her heart with a strange, unnamed, kind of heaviness. A feeling that she hadn’t yet picked apart and dissected meaning from, a feeling she had been long since afraid to try with. “I did like it.”

Morgan sighed with delight as Deirdre joined her on the bed and tangled them up like normal. The fluffy tulle under her skirt bunched up around her thighs and the simple boning around her bodice made it hard to curl up as snug as she really wanted, but Morgan was too happy to mind any of it past fiddling with her zipper and tugging it down a few centimeters. She cradled Deirdre’s face and kissed it several times over as her banshee gave her answer, lingering and nipping here and there as it pleased her.

“It was also loud with the cars going by us too,” Morgan protested, though she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Because you don’t what, babe? It’s okay, you know, right? I cried too, and the lady in front of us was crying much harder than either of us. The story’s supposed to make you feel something. That’s the magic in it. You don’t have to feel weird about any of that.” There was more to say, but Morgan leaned in and drew out another kiss, long and enthusiastic and tender when she remembered the exact look that had shown in her love’s face in the dark theater.

“I am sorry the ending hurt you by surprise,” she said, threading more kisses around Deirdre’s jaw. “It’s a very old human story, actually, from Greek antiquity. I never liked it before, because it doesn’t explain why he did it, so I always thought—yeesh, dude, you had one job! How much did you really love her anyway? But the way this version tells it…” Morgan sighed and settled her face in the crook of her love’s neck. “He held onto so much hope for so long, even when the disappointment started to break him. And then having to keep going without her, when they’d barely even touched since they’d found each other, having to believe she wouldn’t leave again, that he was really worth all this trouble— I think anyone would at least think about turning to be sure. And it was just a second, you know? Just a quick, desperate mistake. And I think it’s so sad because their love was so much bigger than that one mistake, it’s not fair for them to lose it. But the universe is brutal sometimes, and that’s why hope is so hard and special in the first place…” Morgan’s hand slid down to Deirdre’s chest and started tracing shapes over her heart, occasionally skirting along the hem of her own bodice where it kissed the swell of her breasts. “I am glad you liked it,” she murmured. “Even if I would rather hear your favorite song from you.”

Though Deirdre hummed under each touch—leaning closer to Morgan, urging more—her hands remained stiff and chaste around her, despite the twitch that radiated from her fingers. The bright grin that claimed her mouth was evidence enough that she wanted this, and wanted more, but she couldn’t have it. Her body stiffened as her voice remained light. “But this is different from crying over those cartoons in our—“ Deirdre swallowed. “The house; in private. This is different.” As Morgan kissed her, her twitching fingers curled into a claw at Morgan’s back, bunching tight fabric and digging into skin under her harsh grip. As much as she wanted to move, she did not. As Morgan continued to explain Orpheus’s plight, Deirdre thought about her own restraint. If that were her, she wouldn’t have turned around at all. She wasn’t even doing it now, as much as she twitched and stiffened and clawed for it—she was being good, dutiful, devoted. And yet, for all her carefulness, she’d let curiosity slip between her carefully crafted walls. “Is that how you felt?” She blinked, “is this…’turning around’?” She shook her head, wincing at the question—coated in metaphor as it was, even if Morgan could pick apart what she meant, it wasn’t the point. She already knew their love was bigger than their mistakes, but she suddenly understood the nature of doubt in a chilling way. She knew the truth, and yet….well, perhaps she shouldn’t have been so sure of her powers of self-control. Maybe she wasn’t any better than Orpheus after all.

Deirdre turned her gaze to the window, mumbling her requests for Morgan to forget she’d said anything. “I like ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ best, for now.” It was night, not that it was any easier to tell over the lights of New York. It was her body that told her first, in the yawn that erupted from her, before her eyes could even settle on the inky sky. “It’s getting late,” she commented. Her arms slackened. It was time for her to leave, probably. As it usually went, at least. And if she really wanted to try to be better than a fictional Greek myth, she ought to listen to the rules laid about before her. Morgan never shared a bed with her anymore, and she slept holding a pillow tight to her chest in the lonely privacy of her office. When she woke, the sight of an empty wall greeted her. If she was lucky, it would be one of the three cats instead. If she was really, really lucky, it was two of them. She could only hope the hotel pillows were close enough to the Morgan-replacement one she normally held; if she could’ve stuffed it into her suitcase, she would’ve. “I’ll take my things into the other room.”

“No, stay.” The words burst out of Morgan before she could think better of them, even just to have a better follow up argument besides, “Please.” She winced, and would have flushed if she had any blood flow in her face. She moved her arms around her love’s neck and pleaded with her eyes. A moment ago, Deirdre had been giving her so many green lights and their touch and their bodies all struck the right chord, harmonizing with such rich, perfect clarity, Morgan didn’t want the feeling to fade out.

“First of all, it is our house. Or it kind of is, or I want it to be. And second, I don’t want to forget what you said. It matters to me.” She caressed her face tenderly, hoping to convey her earnestness, her confidence. “You did...it did feel like you left me and ran away. All the note said was you weren’t dead, I didn’t know if that meant wait for me or don’t follow me, and by the end of that week, I was starting to wonder if…” Morgan shrugged, trying to keep the leftover hurt far away from her in a box at the bottom of her heart. “...if you still wanted me at all. I didn’t know how to believe you were still with me and so I turned around then, yeah. And in those days before Yule, I did kind of want to know how worth it you thought I was. Some of the ways I did that weren’t fair or kind to you. I was just…” She shrugged. “Clinging to some leftover revenge bullshit, maybe. It seemed so important that you really, really understand how it felt. None of the words I had felt good enough. And maybe if you’d take it, it would mean you would stay, or if you understood, you wouldn’t do it again. But I buried all that in Strawford, babe. I don’t need or want that. I didn’t excise the hurt completely, but I took enough out of me that I can be close to you without getting a complex about it. Enough that I can be-- stars, so incredibly happy with you. And I’ve missed that feeling so much, I don’t want to let it go right now. Haven’t you felt...lighter today? Freer? I know it’s just for a little bit, but everything’s been so hard, I don’t see the point in denying ourselves a few good nights together. I literally can’t think of anything I want more immediately than to stay here with you all night. And this isn’t even the first night I’ve felt that way, it just feels so much more silly not to follow through with the feeling when we’re away from everything else in a beautiful city plastered over a hundred movies.”

Morgan kissed Deirdre then, firm with determination. “For me, the place we’re at right now is us walking together. It’s not the way we came and I don’t know what’s next, I’m just believing as hard as I can that we’re gonna make it after coming this far. I looked, and you were there, and we’re lucky enough that we can keep walking after. That’s what I feel like this is, babe.” Her fingers idled around Deirdre’s shoulders, the ends of her hair, the gentle curve of her neck. She knew this was all dependent on what her girlfriend thought, that though they were walking, maybe they weren’t in exactly the same place yet. Her smile faltered with worry, but she held tight to her nerve and kept herself steady, though her voice was soft. “What is this for you? What do you think about...what I’m suggesting, for how we spend the nights this trip? Tell me what you think, huh…?”

Deirdre’s face softened instantaneously, her hands moved around Morgan to hold her, comfort her. It was a reaction of the body more than it was the mind, and her body wanted to yield to Morgan. To say that she would stay, that she could, that she wanted to and that she’d work out every bead of pain in Morgan’s body until her fingers bled. But the usual enthusiastic yes, yes, was replaced with lips pulled thin, brows furrowed. Her mind was a little more cautious, as it always had been. She shook her head; she hadn’t felt exactly freer or lighter. Her dutifulness was a devious prison, and it caged the rest of her well. Morgan wanted space, and Deirdre had worked it into her mind that she would provide. Every smile died miserably with guilt. And every touch withered with worry. It seemed so important to Morgan that they didn’t sleep together, Deirdre respected the choice as well as she could respect anything she didn’t want. She had thought it was so strange to deny it to themselves days ago. Weeks ago. But it was important to Morgan. And now it...wasn’t? Deirdre shook her head again as they parted. “What do you want me to do, Morgan?” Her shoulders sagged, her face contorted with confusion and hurt. The dark circles around her eyes must have been more clear then, even under the makeup, or at least she felt like they were. The nights of restless sleep without Morgan took their toll, and chilling fatigue coiled around her bones again as the mind remembered what the body could never forget. “I love laying with you; before I met you sleep was just a means to an end for me and now it...it feels like rest. Good rest. But you said you wanted your space, and I am trying my best to respect that. You set the rules Morgan, but you can’t just—“ Deirdre swallowed, turning her gaze away.

This was stupid. Any sane person would have just given in and cuddled up; her insides begged her to. She was so tired and so desperate for Morgan that she’d take just about any scrap offered. But her stomach lurched and her head throbbed; it wasn’t right. “Don’t make me into some thing you use for comfort and then leave again. Don’t just, ask for me to stay and then make me sleep alone again. I can’t—“ She closed her eyes, finding her breathing (In. Hold. Out) without Morgan’s usual prompting.

When Deirdre turned back, she was calmer, though no less pained. “You want space. That isn’t space. And I don’t want your progress to be hindered by these moments of permissibility. But more than that, I need rules. I can’t do this without rules. I need something to follow and tell me I’m doing this right. I need something, my love.” She sighed, shoulders slumped again, victim to Morgan’s touch. She hated herself so completely sometimes; how terrible and idiotic it was that her mind couldn’t just accept this. She wanted it more than anything else. “It doesn’t feel like we’re walking together, Morgan. I’ve told you that already. I’m just trying to do what’s right, but I can’t even tell what that is.” How could it possibly be walking together when she didn’t want space at all? Was it ‘walking together’ when they weren’t yet a couple? Or was that just Morgan, waiting? Wasn’t this just her, waiting?

“I’m sorry,” Morgan murmured. “I just...it just felt so good today, and I’ve felt lighter and so much better since last week and I just thought--” She squeezed Deirdre close, pressing her into a comforting grip. “You’re not a thing, that’s not what I meant. I’m so sorry you’ve felt like I don’t value you or that I’m doing this casually or anything else like--” Morgan grimaced and told the rest of her apologies with kisses through Deirdre’s hair. “I’m just sorry,” she whispered after a while.

She shifted back, just enough to see Deirdre’s as she guided it up to meet her own. “I’ve never been great with rules. It’s not intuitive for me. I’m not used to having that kind of structure in the first place, or anything staying steady enough for too many rules to work, and anytime I feel good, it’s usually so rare I don’t really think to question it or hold back anymore, especially with you. So I-I don’t mean to mess up and confuse you and hurt you like this. That’s not what I want. I want you so very much, my love, but I want your peace of mind and your comfort too.”

Morgan pressed a tender kiss to Deirdre’s forehead, whispering another apology against her skin before sitting back again. “I love you. Always, I love you, Deirdre. And I want to do better. I want to give you what you need. But I also…” She winced, her face twisting with worry. “I just don’t want to get so set in one set of rules that we don’t ever come back together all the way. I don’t want to stay so apart from you. Whatever we come up with, I want it to be something we can change later, somehow, in a way that doesn’t hurt. Maybe at a regular interval, once a week, maybe? Or we can ask? Either way, I’d like to write some new ones for us. Starting with working out a different sleeping arrangement system, if, you know…if that’s okay?” She reached slowly behind her for the hotel stationary pad, taut as a spring with hope. Wherever they really were in this metaphor, she knew she wanted to be moving forward.

Deirdre slumped, sinking further into the plush mattress. A sense of defeat rolled over her, washing her body with its cold tide. You couldn’t just let Morgan be happy? Deirdre’s grip on the sheets tightened. “No, I-I’m sorry this is…” Stupid, she’d wanted to say. They were happy, and fine, and what did it matter to her if she just let them cuddle for a few days? Why did it matter? Her mind had projected itself far enough into the future that she could feel the sting of lonely nights fresh again, after the bliss of restful sleep. Her body, once enthusiastic about giving in, recoiled in fear. She couldn’t understand what created such a challenge for her, and she didn’t possess the words to explain it. “I’m tired,” she said, unable to think of anything else. Fatigue drowned her; sad eyes morphed to tired-red, and her face sank. “I like rules.” Which was strange for a fae to say, but her life had been dominated by them, and under their command, she knew what was right and what was wrong.

She hadn’t known what was right and what was wrong for some time now. Rules would be nice, thank you, she opened her mouth and pictured the words coming out. No, actually, just forget it, I’m too tired to care now, and even that wouldn’t leave in anything more than a whimper. I just want us to be better; I hate sleeping apart from you, I hate not knowing what’s wrong, the truth of it made Deirdre’s eyes water. She hated the “space”. She hated the stupid studio, which only served to churn her insides with melancholy every time she looked out their back window. She hated that she couldn’t understand what to do--the books had told her to “not take it personally” but how exactly was she supposed to not take her girlfriend wanted an entire living space outside of their home in any other way but personal? She hated the self-help books, and their confusing language and messages. And she hated herself, for being so angry. Morgan wanted space, and though Deirdre struggled to rationalize the why, she wanted to give that to her. And she was trying, except her trying seemed to be flawed. So she had to try a different way, but that was flawed too. And now she was making her girlfriend make a list, even though she said she didn’t like rules, and was afraid of what they might do. The word “compromise” came to mind, and then her mother telling her that compromise was something idiots did when they were either too cowardly to rend open and offer themselves out or too weak to get their way. What was it, but Morgan having to suffer more on Deirdre’s behalf?

The banshee shifted. When she spoke finally, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to. You didn’t appreciate it much when I asked you for rules the first time around. And I don’t want to put you through that again. Just...tell me what I’m supposed to do. If you want me to stay, I can stay.”

Morgan let Deirdre fall away, feeling her body tense. “Hey…” she cooed. She hesitated to scoop Deirdre up, knowing that it was just as likely that she was punishing herself as it was that she didn’t want to be touched. In the end, she split the difference by finger-combing her hair, taking out each of the little pins she ran into and setting them neatly aside. “Don’t be sorry, my love. I’m proud of you, for telling me what you need. And yeah, it’s weird and hard, not having our instincts aligned when it comes to us, but I think we can compromise. No one has to hurt so much or feel completely out of her depth. I think that’s how we’re gonna get through this.” She slid down beside her banshee and kissed her hair. “You’re right, I had a really hard time with the rules the first time we made them, but I was also in a really low place, and I was really lost and hadn’t figured out much of anything about what to do with myself. But I think they weren’t such a terrible idea after all, especially then. And I'm in a different, better spot now. And I want to do this. I’m offering. And as long as we can revisit these and change them so we can keep moving closer together, I’ll make the rules as detailed as you need them to be.”

But Deirdre’s pain was more than that. The ache in her went deeper than a worry that Morgan didn’t really want to go along with her idea. Morgan didn’t think that would be enough to make her love cry on its own. Slowly, she reached over and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “If you’re tired, we can just come up with a few rules for tonight and do the rest in the morning. But I think sooner is better than later, because...it just seems like we both want to be closer, more intimate, than we have been, and if we both want that, it seems awful to keep ourselves from it. We just have to make sure we’re doing it in a way that doesn’t hurt so much, you know?” She wiped another one of Deirdre’s tears. “...Babe,” she said, lowering her voice, just above a whisper. “Can you tell me what it is that’s bothering you so much right now? What it is that’s so sad or stressful… I need you to talk to me, babe. Right now, I need that very much. It doesn’t even have to make much of any sense. I just don’t want to do the thing where you hurt in silence and I’m on the outside trying to figure out what to do on my own.” She let her fingers slide down Deirdre’s cheek, tracing the gentle lines of it. “I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to, babe. I’m here, and I think we can figure out how to get to ‘okay.’ We just have to do it together.”

Deirdre’s mind coursed with the same words pulsing in numbing repetition: dumb, stupid, idiotic, dumb, stupid-- She hissed as Morgan’s fingers pushed through her hair, not from the contact, which was gentle by all accounts, but from the uncanny ability they possessed to make Deirdre feel raw. It was medically impossible, but she thought Morgan could feel her thoughts through her scalp, that she could pick each one out word by word. Don’t look, don’t look. Deirdre closed her eyes. Was she more embarrassed that her mind had dissolved to such negative prattle or that she knew Morgan wouldn’t like it anymore than Deirdre would enjoy Morgan beating herself up? But her habit of self-flagellation was one Morgan knew well, and had never responded with cruelty to before. Morgan was kind, and Morgan was gentle, and Morgan loved her. Yet for all she understood, all she could think about was how terrible she must be, wasting Morgan’s time and energy like this. Morgan should’ve been taking care of herself, and instead, here she was. Dumb, stupid, idiotic, dumb, stupid… “No,” she croaked, “no, you really don’t have to do that. I know it’s hard for--you need space. You wanted to...think about yourself. Figure that out. And you said you don’t like rules and I...can manage. I can do that for you.” Her heart clenched, her face twisted with pain. Her body was so tired; she had nothing left to give of herself. Please stop, please stop. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t. “Together…” she rolled the word around against her tongue. To-geth-er; foregin, by an unnameable metric, but an idea she could latch her words to. The good words. “Not together.” Well, the mediocre words. “Not--you need--you said--you--” She swallowed. “The books, I don’t understand them. And the studio it--” She closed her eyes again. Stop, stop, stop. “Roots grow big, and long, and they take from the soil. And the other plants dry, but that’s okay, because you need it now. You need it.” Deirdre opened her eyes, shaking her head. “That’s the only thing I understand about this. I think the books are trying to say that the other plants shouldn’t dry for each other, but does that mean you have to be transplanted into a new bed so you can grow, and what does that mean for--” Deirdre hissed. “This garden metaphor is dumb. I just mean, I don’t even understand what was wrong in the first place. And maybe it’s stupid of me but I thought we were fine, but we weren’t, and now what? And I know it’s idiotic, but I don’t get it.”

Morgan listened, burning with aches as she saw Deirdre nearly writhing with pain. It was like looking into a cruel, double sided mirror. Here was her pain during all those grief days, her desperation, now with Deirdre’s face. Here was every reason to go into that therapist’s office as soon as they could get in. They couldn’t stay trapped in these patterns, they couldn’t sink into this much hurt for each other so easily, not if they wanted to last for centuries. Morgan adjusted herself so one of her arms could drape around Deirdre and take her hand while the other twisted up on the pillow and worked tenderly at the tension in her love’s scalp.

“It’s not idiotic or stupid or dumb, Deirdre. None of those things. And I got what you were saying with the garden metaphor, even if it has its limits.” Close as she was to Deirdre now, her lips brushed against her ear and neck as she spoke, and it was nothing at all to press a kiss to the nape and remember its tender, sweaty feel. “You know, for a while, I couldn’t put words to it either, but I was looking over my notebooks and this letter draft I had. I think it was the last one I wrote when I was still alive. I said something like, before you I had this little world inside me...” She let go of Deirdre’s hand to make a little sphere with her own. “And it wasn’t perfect, but it was whole and it was good. And then I found you, and you loved me, and we started making a life together, and suddenly there was more.” She took her sphere hand and stuck it on Deirdre’s trying to mould it into some expanded, hybrid shape. “And I guess once you start looking at the whole thing as space, it sort of becomes like a building. I had, let’s say, three walls holding me up. And then you came and then I had four walls. I was even bigger and stronger and had so much more possibilities. But then I died. And when I lost my senses, my magic, my life….those were my walls and they all collapsed.” She crumpled and flattened her hand to illustrate her point. “And if it wasn’t for you reminding me that you, my newest support, were still standing, I would’ve just stayed collapsed. But you did. And I finally had one whole thing to balance and fill myself with. I could finally get off the ground, and maybe our therapist will have some thoughts about that, but I can’t see that as anything but a good thing, as you saving me. The problem is, after that…” Morgan sighed, wincing. She still didn’t know when she could’ve done anything different, what opportunity she could have realistically taken to build herself better and spared them this. Maybe if she had just magically known what she knew now, if her mind hadn’t been so scrambled by death that the thoughts wouldn’t seem so hard to get to...but that wasn’t how it had been.

“I wish I could figure out another way for it to have gone, besides me just listening to you and staying alive, but I can’t. We did the only things we could think of, so it can’t be anyone’s fault, but...the problem is after that, there was still a whole me. A whole world, a whole building, and only one support to carry me. And before, when I had three, you could come and go and we could separate for those awful times, and it would hurt, but I was still upright. But with only one support for my whole self...every time you left, or seemed to leave, every time I was afraid you just might, or afraid you’d even be angry with me, I would collapse again.” She put her hand through the motions, growing to only a fraction of the old size and collapsing, like a heart losing the will to beat. “I mean, remember that first time you needed to go away for the night and I wrecked the house and you found me on the floor? There’s just so much of me, I can’t be held up with only one piece, no matter what it is. It’s just absurd to build anything that way, much less me, right? There’s not enough to hold up everything that was, much less everything and more.” She sniffled, blinking back a tear. “And it took me having to go without you, to fear the absolute worst for you for so many awful days, to realize that. But, when I did, I felt like the only way I could figure out what else to build myself up with is to keep going without, with intention. And I found another wall to hold me up in Strawford, when I gave my hurt to the earth and my heart to the universe. And I’ve found another in my arts and crafts work. Housing those new supports in the studio right now help remind me that these are separate and sturdy and mine. I’ve been a lot less insecure about wanting you now that I have that space, if you haven’t noticed.” She pressed another kiss to Deirdre’s neck. “I can just picture that place and know those supports are there. And I’ll be working again soon, and Leah said I could help with the library, and Remmy gave me the keys to the supernatural sanctuary, and I just know, because I know I belong here and the universe is holding me in my own place and my body is more than just a walking death--I know I have all the supports I need even if they aren’t firmly set into the ground yet. And so I feel confident in letting myself be so much closer to you now than I did before. I’m not so fragile anymore. You are my only and dearest love, and you are still one of my supports. You just help me have more, and not just the bare minimum. It should be like that, shouldn’t it? Us making the world wider and brighter than before…?”

There was a measure of anger to feel how easily her fears buckled once reassured by Morgan. It was childish, Deirdre thought, that her feelings could be so sensitive. Her sensitivity was something she had fought to hide away, bury deep and forget about. And yet— The stiffness in Deirdre’s body caved, and she reached for her girlfriend, curling fingers around the fabric of her dress. Her gaze followed down to the demonstration unfolding in her hand. She could see the little house Morgan was talking about, that happy, stable life. Then she could see it crumble, and become a fraction of what it once was. Morgan built her supports again, she was still building them. Some of this rang with familiarity; she knew this. But the ease of the metaphor gave Deirdre a chance to reflect on something she never had: her own life, and its supports. She had her house too, or she did. And then she had Morgan, and her house wasn’t so much a house as it turned out to be a cave. But she’d only managed just the one support, afraid of anything else—confused, lost. She missed the routine of her cave, but that had crumbled now. Deirdre drew her hand back with a frown, making and un-making a fist. It made sense, and with the sense, a terrible hollowness. There was something wrong with her and no amount of fixation on fixing Morgan and their relationship would suddenly give her any of that purpose she wanted.

Morgan had explained this in some words before, but Deirdre hadn’t made much sense of it then. Hearing it again, the picture was more clear. Deirdre sighed. “I suppose.” She unfurled her hand and stared at the wrinkles in her palm. She drew her other hand back from where it had fastened on to the front of Morgan’s dress, trying to draw her own house connecting the wrinkles. Morgan had done fine on her journey to stability, but Deirdre hadn’t moved an inch; she didn’t want to move. Her mother often admonished the predictability of humans, the creatures of comfort that they were, but Deirdre felt herself no different. She missed the cave. “I don’t think my world is very wide or bright, Morgan.” She spoke mostly to her palm, which had yet to yield a usable house. “But I think I get what you mean now.” Giving up her quest, she bundled her hands together and looked up. “Thank you. I think I understand it now. Truly. Properly.”

“No, I guess it’s not,” Morgan admitted with a sorrowful whisper. She had urged Deirdre, even when things were good, to find more than just her to sustain herself on. But her love, in all her fear and bewilderment, hadn’t found the courage yet. Then again, she was afraid of picking out the color of the furniture, so things had to come in small steps. “But I have every belief that it will be. And you’re welcome. Any time, my love.” She bundled Deirdre into her arms and threaded kisses along her forehead. “Can you tell me what you need right now, or what you want? I want to stay close with you tonight and take a couple hours in the other room sometime tomorrow morning to meditate alone. But I don’t want you to hurt, or be afraid. So just tell me, okay? We’ll find a way to make the pieces fit.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be. It’s not supposed to—“ Deirdre slammed her mouth shut, hissing down a sob. This was a rhetoric that she had touted since the day she met Morgan, and she knew Morgan hadn’t grown any fonder for it. “I just want to sleep.” She sighed, humming her way into a more comfortable position in Morgan’s arms. She bundled her face into the crook of her neck, tangling her long legs into Morgan’s. The pieces of their bodies already fit, the rest they’d just have to figure out. “Can I sleep here? Can you hold me? Can I just...rest?”

Morgan crooned contentedly as Deirdre wriggled in and their bodies made a home with each other. “Oh, is that all, just sleep?” She teased softly, her voice lilting with comforting warmth. “No back rub? No helping out of your dress? No ambient lullabies or kisses?” She caressed Deirdre as she spoke, giving her a squeeze that she hoped expressed that she had no objections if this was how they would lay for the night, petticoats and stockings and all. It had been so very long since they’d been like this, their stillness harmonizing just right, together and apart, whole and connected. “Yes, my love. I will hold you right here, happily, and you can rest.”

“I’d have to move to get out of this dress.” Deirdre laughed against Morgan’s skin. Moving sounded like just about the worst thing she could think of. A truly dreadful thing to ask for. “Just sleep.” She smiled, eased in the arms of her love. It felt a little more like walking together then, and less like blind stumbling. Maybe she’d apologize in the morning for being so dense about it, but that was a morning problem. All she wanted now was the peace of Morgan’s embrace; she’d missed it more every second she had to do without it, and she relinquished herself to the feeling. With anguish alleviated from her mind, if not in permanence then just long enough to humor the night, she was sure this trip would be good to them.

For the first time in weeks, a gentle sleep greeted her. And beyond it, the flicker of hope, illuminated under New York City lights: tomorrow, a day as gentle as the night, spent in museums and cemeteries and— with little coaxing— a bakery. They’d watch the ball drop through their hotel window. They’d hold each other, kiss and dance and laugh as Deirdre expressed her disappointment in the lack of big apples. Then she’d sleep again, restful as the day before. And hope would grow, and love would remind her that they carved their own good into the world; walking together sounded like just about the best thing she’d ever heard. And it made everything possible.

Even a brand new year, better than the last.

#new year new tears #wr deirdre #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #//soft #wickedswriting

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thanksjro · 4 years

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Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming.

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy, a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #spotlight #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years

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pinky and the brain - s1e5a: where no mouse has gone before

the blood test went okay! i’m still fucking exhausted but i’m pulling through. hopefully when the results come through it’ll be something tame yet treatable.

episode summary: upon learning of a human plot to communicate with aliens from a nearby planet, brain attempts to convince them that he is earth’s leader.

the rundown:

the mice are floating around.

did i need to cap all of those images? no. i probably only needed the last one, honestly. was it funnier? absolutely. so that’s what y’all get.

brain is upside down now.

“look, brain!” cries pinky. “i’m experiencing total weightlessness!”

bonk.

they’re in an anti gravity chamber, for reasons that have not been elaborated upon. they just sort of merrily bump into each other in there until someone lets them out.

bonk.

ow. if pinky could die, that would probably be it for his spine. brain looks more like his alarm has just gone off and he really doesn’t want to get up, but god damn it, he has a 9am on tuesdays.

gromp.

“these experiments are degrading.”

“narf! i think they’re fun, brain! i can’t wait for the next ride!”

“that is because you have no dignity.”

but it’s okay. this man in terrifying sunglasses has come to rescue the boys. air mice nyoom is over.

as he takes them back to wherever, brain spots something of interest.

IT’S A DVD. HOW ANTIQUATED. but no, he’s more concerned about whatever it is this dude is polishing.

“did you see that plaque, pinky?” brain asks, and then does... this. for some reason. i don’t know. maybe i paused at a weird time. this is, uh, not a good moment, brain. there are people here.

“poit. he really ought to floss more often.”

this, at the very least, is enough to get brain to stick his ass out slightly less, and as they get lowered into fun little chairs,

he explains to pinky that the plaque "displays representations of man, woman, and the rudiments of earth’s most sophisticated science.”

see! there are the sciences right there. all sciences can be narrowed down to a bunch of dots and pi.

so then they get put in the promare spinny machine for their crimes.

sunglasses man leaves. he has done his duty for bill and country.

completely unbothered by the prospect of fueling the promepolis warp drive, brain explains to pinky that said plaque is being “sent on a probe to the outermost extremities of the galaxy, along with a disk showing earth’s arts and music.” unfortunately, this show is set in the 90s, so it’s a miracle this episode actually happened and the aliens didn’t just listen to a couple seconds of bjork and then decide to call the whole thing off.

meanwhile, the scientist turns the spinny mode up a bit.

“if the aliens look upon it, they will learn everything they need to know about the dominant species on earth!”

“naaarf. too bad there isn’t a picture of you on there, brain!”

“exactly,” says brain, who can somehow still manage a coherent sentence. “are you pondering what i’m pondering?”

“i think so, brain! but pants with horizontal stripes make me look chubby!”

awful. brain somehow manages to convey that if he puts a picture of himself on the plaque, then the aliens will recognise him as earth’s leader.

unfortunately, most of his lower half appears to be significantly broken, so he may need some assistance.

the episode cuts straight from spinny machine to the next scene, so i’m not entirely sure how long afterwards it takes place. i assume at the very least they both had a nap first, but anyway, now the mice are here and significantly less broken, and brain is standing in front of an engraving of himself and saying voila.

“voila.”

not only has he carved himself into the plaque, he’s also carved the human figures out entirely. impressive stuff, considering that tool is bigger than him.

pinky thinks it’s marvellous!

“but who is it?”

bonk.

it gets worse. brain explains that he has “slightly altered the great art masterpieces” to enhance his own importance as earth’s leader.

slightly.

“oh, this is my favourite one, brain!”

“......how did that get in there.”

undeterred, brain switches over to some samples of The World’s Great Works Of Classical Music.

BRAIN’S THE LEADEEEEEEEEEEER BRAIN’S THE LEAAAADEEEEER

he’s even included some examples of america’s contribution to the fine arts!

ROCK. AND ROLL.

A WOP BOP A LOO BOP A LOP BAM BRAIN. let it be known that little richard was actually white and dubiously canadian.

anyway brain wants them to swap his disk and plaque with the real disk and plaque, so they set off to do that.

“but brain, what about ballet? aren’t you going to give them a sample of the ballet?”

“the aliens aren’t going to care about ballet, pinky.”

or perhaps he was just too embarrassed to edit his face onto the ballets russe. it’s okay brain. we love you even if your short legs make your sissones lackluster.

time for Big Rocket.

they’re stopped at the gates, of course.

fear not! it’s only famous jet propulsion scientist wernher von brain from the braun institute in baun.

and wernher von pinky!!! from the mink institute in pink!!!

brain looks at pinky like he’s just said something stupid, and chooses to ignore the fact that wernher van braun had been dead twenty years before this cartoon takes place. very smart, brain. much genius.

still, it works on this guy.

“from now on, pinky, whatever anyone asks you, just say ‘ja’ or ‘nein’.”

BUT NEVER MIND THAT.

IT’S TIME FOR BIG ROCKET.

brain screws his custom Mouse Plaque onto the base of the rocket. he also sticks his ass out again as he does it, because he is clearly having one of those days.

pinky watches as the countdown progresses slowly, from ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-four-three-stand by for emission.

“did you hear the countdown, pinky?”

“ja!”

“what number are they down to?”

“nien!”

“nine???”

“ja!”

“excellent, plenty of time.”

(he did not, in fact, have plenty of time.)

“didn’t you tell me they were down to nine, pinky?”

“ja! nien! poit!”

there’s your answer, i guess.

but it’s fine! brain’s picture is on the rocket, as well as his cultural erasure of little richard, so surely nothing can go wrong now!

look at it nyooming around in space. how cute.

conclusion:

ALIENS LAND ON EARTH.

news man witters on about this being the GREATEST MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD as various politicians and news organisations congregate to say hi to the aliens. they are from firnobulax, and they want to meet earth’s leader!

here they come now!

squelch.

the aliens politely request to be taken to earth’s leader.

“he means me,” says bill, wriggling himself to the front of the line. “i can feel his pain.”

the other world leaders don’t seem too sure about this.

including... this guy. who is definitely supposed to be british (”oh, really, old chap, i think he means me”) but i. definitely do not recognise him. who are you??? what did you do to the queen??????? give liz back right now you bureaucrat, or the entirety of england will throw hands.

the aliens care not for this.

so they kind of explode everyone in the venue, as you do.

the politicians watch in horror as the aliens fly right past them, to this innocent looking soap box right at the back.

the inhabitants of which came prepared. very cute.

“you are the earth creature known as. brain?”

“yes!”

“i am the leader of this planet!! ruler of all i survey!!!!!”

good for you! (:

“narf. and he really isn’t just a laboratory mouse trying to take over the world.”

brain will handle this from here, thank you.

the aliens are satisfied, at least. they give pinky a little pat on the head for all his narfs (he speaks excellent firnobulax, don’t you know, narf poit egad) and take the mice away to CELEBRATE THEIR GLORY.

it doesn’t look very comfortable, but neither of them seem to mind.

“at last, pinky! we are finally appreciated!”

“what does it feel like..........”

anyway, the spaceship full of mice flies away. brain regails the firnobulaxians with tales of how he invented electricity.

“but brain. wasn’t that ben franklin?”

bonk.

brain realises mid bonk that this probably looks very suspicious, so he convinces the aliens that this is a gesture of respect on earth.

it goes about as well as one would think it would.

“you mean all those years, you were just showing me respect! i’m touched!”

“yes, you certainly are.”

luckily, they make it back to firnobulax without too much trouble.

there’s a parade and everything. the crowd cheers “narf! poit! brain!” as they’re carried through the street, which is probably a sequence of words that brain is very used to hearing.

i don’t know what these things are, but they’re scary.

they make it to brain’s “domicile” soon enough, which is a big fancy room with a chair in it.

there’s only one chair, which is sad, but hopefully that can be mitigated. brain settles himself down triumphantly.

“from now on, pinky,” he says, “everything will be different.”

which is a good time for bars to fall down over one of the windows.

donk.

the mice look on, horrified,

as it continues around the rest of the room.

and the door, too, for good measure.

“egad, brain!” cries pinky. “they’ve locked us in!”

“yes, pinky.”

“yes.”

awww. ):

as pinky attempts to break the bars, brain wanders off back to his little chair, incredibly despondantly.

he has to prepare for tomorrow night.

“why, brain? what are we going to do tomorrow night?”

“same thing we do every night, pinky. try to take over firnobulax.”

hmmmmm.

man. i just. the plan actually worked, is the thing. it did exactly what brain intended it to. and how could he have known that firnobulax wanted to kidnap the leader of earth for scientific purposes? maybe if they’d been upfront with their intent, we would have had an excuse to send some dictators into space. go figure.

but never mind.

brain: 6 pinky: 7 outside influence: 13

“ooooo, i don’t know, brain. i once saw a group of japanese tourists absolutely melt at the final scene of giselle.”

#patb #pinky and the brain #hi everyone #this blog is not doing too well at the daily updates thing #lol #a funnier and better episode should be coming tomorrow (:

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huttons · 4 years

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Never Really Was Enough, Pt II

word count: 3.9k

warnings: talk of homophobia, off-screen character death

summary: When Eva moves to Raleigh, it wasn’t a happy occasion. She needed to get away from her family and moving across the country was the quickest way for her to accomplish that. As she finds her place in Raleigh, she finds a new family with people she never expected to (especially with a certain red-headed hockey player).

authors note: written as part of FandomTrumpsHate for @antoineroussel <3

pt. one | ao3 link

~ ~ ~

“You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days, someone is going to find you.”

By the time November rolls around, Eva feels like she’s finally settled into Raleigh and can finally think of it as home. It’s a good feeling, one that she wasn’t expecting at first. But work has been going extremely well and she’s got a few friends now.

There still hasn’t been any word from her family, and while it isn’t surprising, it still hurts that they don’t care enough to reach out to her, especially with the holidays coming up. Eva is complaining about this when Sammy brings up the fact that the Canes are doing a Thanksgiving get-together in a couple of weeks.

“I just know that you won’t be going home, and Patrick and I can’t afford to go visit either of our families right now,” Sammy explains. “And don’t offer to pay for anything again. Just because you have the money for it doesn’t mean you need to spend it on us like that.”

“I know, I just want you guys to be happy,” Eva says. “But…if you really think that they would be okay with me coming, then yeah, I’d love to come.”

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a ragtag group of people who don’t have anyone else, so you won’t be out of place.”

“In that case, count me in. I was honestly expecting to spend Thanksgiving by myself, so I think I can handle hanging out with y’all.”

“Eva, did you really think that we would have you spend the holidays by yourself?”

Eva shrugs. “I mean, you guys have family, so it’s not like I was expecting for you to hang around here. And it would have sucked, but I wouldn’t have minded too much. I didn’t celebrate with my family too much anyways once I left for university.”

“That’s shitty,” Sammy says, bringing Eva in for a short hug.

“Yeah, but I got used to it, with it just being my brother and I for a while.”

“Well, consider us your new family. You’re going to be stuck with us forever.”

“I guess there’s worse things out there.”

~ ~ ~

Once the holiday party rolls around, Eva has baked what feels like a million different desserts. Sammy had been insistent that she didn’t need to bring anything, but it’s been a long time since Eva has been able to bake for a large group of people. Besides, it helps get her mind off of her nervousness of seeing Dougie again.

It’s not like she has a crush on him, but he’s exactly her type and if they continue to run into each other, then it’s something she has to get figured out. So, she bakes until she’s unsure of how she’s going to be able to transport it all. Surely there’ll be at least a couple of people who’ll be bribed into helping in exchange for extra dessert.

Once Eva arrives at the house that’s hosting the event, she texts Sammy to bring a couple of people to help her. As she looks at the cakes, cookies, and pies she made, Eva is starting to think she’s made it painfully obvious that she’s been stress baking. But she shrugs it off, knowing that they’ll all probably disappear by the end of the night.

“Jesus, how much did you end up baking?” Sammy asks, a bit of shock in her voice.

She looks over to see that Sammy has enlisted Dougie for help, and Eva is really wondering why this has to be the first time she’s seeing him today.

Eva shrugs. “You said there were going to be players here, I figured they could finish it all.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Dougie replies. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to eat everything, even if we shouldn’t.”

“Well, that’s good,” Eva says. “Let’s get going because this might take a couple of trips.”

When the three of them walk into the house, they’re greeted by a small group that’s hanging out in the living room. Within seconds, they’re there to grab the desserts from their hands, taking them to the designated table.

“Wow, where was the offer for help earlier?” Sammy snorts.

“You didn’t tell us what it was for,” one of the guys replies.

Sammy just rolls her eyes, before heading back out to Eva’s car to get the rest of the desserts. Dougie and Eva trail behind her, laughing as they head out.

“So, couldn’t fly back home?” he asks Eva.

“Oh, she could afford it, but she decided she would rather be stuck with us instead,” Sammy interjects, giving Eva an out from having to explain.

“It’s a decision I’m starting to regret greatly,” Eva says flatly.

Dougie lets out one of his infectious laughs as they get to her car. The walk back is quiet and once they’re all back, Eva gets swept up into conversations with some of the office staff that recognize her from the last two events. She’s a little sad she doesn’t get to see much of Dougie, but it’s probably the best if she doesn’t want to fall halfway in love with him.

Before she knows it, Eva is feeling full and tired. The day passes in a blur, but she feels more content than she has in a while. In a way, it almost felt like the holidays with her family, before everything turned out for the worse. As she gets ready to head out, Dougie comes over to say goodbye.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much today,” he says apologetically.

“It’s not a big deal, I get that you’re popular around here,” Eva replies jokingly.

“Still, I’d been hoping to talk to you a bit more. I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable exchanging numbers?”

And, well, Eva can’t say no to that. So, she ends up leaving with leftovers that will last for days and a new number in her phone. She isn’t really sure if anything is even going to come of it, but she can’t help but to hope that they’ll at least become friends. When Eva gets home, she flops on her bed and opens up a new message with Dougie.

Debating what to say, she simply texts, I hope you got a chance to try something I made today, I wasn’t expecting people to like them so much lol

Once she sends it, she just whispers, “Why the fuck did I send that ? It sounds like I’m fishing for compliments now.”

Only a few minutes later, he texts back, I think you definitely made enough for me to grab something in time 😉 you did good tho, def worth breaking my meal plan for

Oh that’s good then

Dougie doesn’t reply, and Eva decides she doesn’t want to come off as desperate for attention, so she doesn’t send anything back. Feeling a bit weird about the whole thing, Eva tosses her phone on her nightstand, then pulls up Netflix and falls asleep binge watching tv.

The next week passes by in the same routine that Eva has grown used to. She doesn’t hear much from Dougie, most of their conversations are just her congratulating him on playing well. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Eva is a little disappointed. When they exchanged numbers, while she wasn’t expecting them to become close, it would have been nice for there to be at least a little substance to their conversations.

“Look, he’s just someone who appreciates talking in person more,” Sammy says when Eva complains about it.

“Is that you hinting that I need to invite him to hang out in person?” Eva asks, scrunching her nose in disdain.

“Hanging out with Dougie isn’t a bad thing. He’s a pretty chill guy and doesn’t expect you to talk all the time. The dude is huge into museums and shit. I know Raleigh isn’t known for having those, but it’s worth going to.”

“Wouldn’t he have already gone to them if he likes them so much?”

“Yeah, but I doubt he’s gone with anyone. Hockey players aren’t much on casually going to museums with their bros.”

“I guess you’re right. And he won’t think this is like…a date or anything, right?”

“No, he’ll just take it as the two of you going to a museum, nothing more. He’ll probably appreciate the company.”

“Fine,” Eva groans.

“Again, if anything happens, I’m taking all of the credit.”

“I really hate you right now.”

“Love you too, Eva.”

~ ~ ~

Dougie seemed ecstatic going to the museum with Eva. He basically confirmed what Sammy has said, that nobody was keen on going to any of the museums with him. So, on a rare Saturday that he has off, Dougie is dragging Eva to the Natural History Museum. He’s excited about the exhibit that they have on display right now, which is something about puzzles.

“So…is it like a history of puzzles?” Eva inquires, as they walk up to the museum.

“No, it’s all about brain games and engaging with the exhibit,” Dougie explains. “It’s all about being hands on.”

“Oh, that should be fun then. No wonder you seem so excited about it,” Eva replies.

“You should be good at them too, since you’re an engineer.”

“Just because I’m an engineer doesn’t make me smarter than anyone else. It’s not my fault society acts like I know more.”

Dougie just laughs. When they get to the ticket office, Dougie buys Eva’s ticket before she can do anything. She just rolls her eyes, and doesn’t say anything until they’re off to the puzzles exhibit.

“I can afford to buy my own ticket, you know. Engineering is lucrative enough for me to be able to buy my own ticket,” Eva says.

“Yeah, but I’m a hockey player, which is even more lucrative.”

“But have you considered that being a hockey player isn’t forever?”

“I’m one right now though, and that’s what matters.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I wanted to hang out with you willingly today,” Eva groans.

Dougie laughs loudly. When they walk into the special exhibit area, they both freeze as they take it in. He was right about it being an interactive puzzle exhibit, but apparently failed to notice that it seemed to be for young kids. Parents were standing around, watching their kids run through the mazes.

“Well, at least you’ll be able to solve them now,” Eva jokes.

“Is that a dig at my intelligence?” Dougie replies, faking offense.

“Maybe,” Eva says, a lip tugging at her lips.

“I’m sorry this was a bust, but do you want to take a look around at the other exhibits?” he asks.

“Sure, sounds good to me.”

And that’s how the two of them spend the rest of the morning looking around. As interesting as it is, Eva is more excited about being able to spend time with Dougie. He’s so much more down-to-earth than she was expecting and Eva feels her crush on him growing larger. While that isn’t what she was hoping for, she supposes there are worse people to have a crush on.

“Are you up for getting lunch together?” Dougie asks as they leave the museum.

“Yeah, if you let me pay for it,” Eva retorts. “Let me spend some of my money.”

“That’s supposed to be my line,” Dougie protests.

“Well, too bad,” she says, smiling widely.

“Fine,” he groans. “I guess I can let you get away with it this time.”

They end up going to a small café only a few blocks away and grab a small table in the corner. Conversation flows easily as they eat their lunch, and Eva finds herself enjoying herself a little too much. Besides Sammy and Patrick, it’s been a long time since she’s found someone she genuinely likes hanging out with. Sure, she hangs out with James and other coworkers on those late nights in the office (or diner), but it’s not the same thing.

“I had a good time,” Dougie says, as he walks Eva back to her car.

“Yeah, me too,” Eva replies. “We should do this again. I’m sure I can hang out during the week, as long as I make it up during the weekend.”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” he says, frowning. “I’m sure I can find some more weekends at some point.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I’ve had to come in during weekends before, it’s not an unusual experience.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Dougie, I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay then,” he says, smiling softly.

On Eva’s drive back to her apartment, she feels herself smiling stupidly. She really enjoyed being around Dougie and the thought of them hanging out again warms her heart. When she gets back to her apartment, Eva notices that Dougie has already text his schedule for the next couple of weeks. They manage to find a time for them to get dinner the following Wednesday. No matter what Eva thinks, she keeps saying that it’s not a date.

~ ~ ~

By the time Wednesday rolls around, Eva is freaking out. While she knows that it’s not a date, she still wants to make a good impression. Sammy is teasing her about it, but helps calm her down.

“Look, you said that it’s not a date, so just wear what you would wear if we were getting dinner,” Sammy says.

“Right, of course,” Eva whispers.

This helps her settle on a casual outfit, and Sammy soothes her a little more before heading out. Dougie sends her a text not too much later telling Eva that he’s waiting outside her apartment. When she heads down to the curbside, she looks around, trying to find him. She hears a honk from a car nearby, and sees Dougie waiting inside.

“You know, I didn’t picture you driving a Yaris ,” Eva teases. “It’s smaller than I was expecting.”

Dougie snorts. “You’re not the first person to say that. But it was the only rental they had when I first came here and I got attached to it.”

“Only you would get attached to a car,” Eva jokes.

“Why is it that you always find something to tease me about?”

“Well, it’s not like you make it that hard.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than I am.”

Conversation continues to flow in an easy banter as they head to the restaurant that Dougie had picked out. It’s a small family owned Hawaiian place that has been around for a while, with great recommendations. By the time that they get there, Eva is feeling much more at ease than she had earlier in the evening. Dinner continues in a similar fashion, with small jokes and talking about what Eva does.

“So, I can come to you with computer issues?” Dougie asks.

“I guess I could try,” Eva replies. “But that’s more IT than engineering.”

“Thought I would ask anyways,” he says. “So, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Uh, yeah?” Eva replies, a bit confused.

“So, um, I know that this might seem sudden, but I was wondering if you might want to go on a date sometime?” Dougie asks hopefully.

“Oh, Dougie, I…” Eva starts to say.

“Was I reading this wrong?” he replies, face falling.

“No, no, it’s just…let me explain,” Eva says, sighing. “I’m openly bisexual and while I figure that you probably have no problem with it, because you seem like a great person, but…I know how bad the sports community is about this kind of thing. And while I’m sure things might be fine; I also know that people go digging for things.

“I had a girlfriend back in university and I still have pictures of us on my Instagram together. We’re still good friends and those are still happy memories for me. I don’t want to have to hide that part of me and while I might be overreacting…I need to look out for myself, Dougie,” Eva explains. “So, while this isn’t a no, I do need to think about it. And I need you to think about it too, because if people end up talking about it…”

She feels like she laid herself completely bare, letting Dougie see more than she was planning on. But…Eva thought about this over the last few days, and wants to let her concerns be known. Dougie seems to still be processing the news, taking time to consider everything. She appreciates that he isn’t rushing to an answer.

“While I can’t say that I really get it, because I don’t, I understand why you would be nervous,” Dougie says, measuring his words carefully. “I’ll wait for you, though. I know that we honestly don’t know each other all that well, but I know that you’re worth waiting for.”

“Thank you,” Eva whispers. “It’s a lot to take in, I’m fully aware of that, but it’s something that I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about going on a date with me?” Dougie jokes.

Eva blushes. “Was that not obvious?”

“It’s just nice to get a little bit of validation.”

Eva just rolls her eyes. The rest of dinner continues in a comfortable silence, Dougie obviously processing everything that he was told. It was obviously a lot for Eva to trust him with everything she told him, so he decides to let her set the pace of what happens next. He doesn’t want to push her too much.

“We can still hang out if you want to,” Eva says softly, as they walk back to Dougie’s car.

“Yeah, I would like that, if you don’t mind,” he replies. “Even if we decide dating is off the table, I still want to be your friend.”

Eva smiles at this, and it helps ease her a little bit. Things are comfortable on the drive back to her apartment, and before she heads out, she gives him a tight hug. Once she gets up to the apartment, it feels like it’s only a few minutes later than Sammy is knocking on her door to get all the details.

“He asked me on a date,” Eva says.

“And?” Sammy asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I told him I would think about it. I just…I don’t want to have to hide my sexuality again, that’s why I moved down here to Raleigh. No matter how much I like him, if he can’t handle me not hiding it…I don’t want to date him,” Eva explains. “And I’m honestly not sure if I could handle shitty comments either. Like…I know it’s not all that likely, but there has to be a few people that’ll say something .”

“That’s shitty that you even have to think about that,” Sammy replies, hugging Eva briefly.

Eva shrugs. “It is, but it’s the reality of the situation.”

“Do you want to date him though?”

“Yeah, he seems like a great guy. If we didn’t have to think about all of this, I would have said yes in a heartbeat.”

“Then I think that’s something to remember,” Sammy says. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair, I just wanted all the deets right away.”

Eva snorts. “Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate it.”

“You always have me and Patrick, no matter what.”

Eva gives Sammy another hug before she leaves. Sighing, Eva gets ready for bed and mulls over everything that happened. She wants to say yes, wants to text Dougie about it, but she knows that she has to think about it more seriously now. And so does he, and Eva prepares for the minor heartbreak if he decides that she’s just not worth the trouble. But whatever happens, the end result will be worth it.

The more she thinks about it, she feels like she could handle whatever happens as long as Dougie is okay with it. Having his support would mean a lot to Eva, and as long as things don’t get too bad, she feels like she can handle whatever happens. Besides, it’s not like she’s a player that’s coming out, so things shouldn’t be nearly as bad.

A couple of days pass before Eva gets a text from Dougie that just says, I was wondering if we could meet up to talk about what’s going on?

Yeah, but could we do it at one of our places?

I could come to your apartment. I feel like you’d feel more comfortable there

Oh, yeah, that would actually be nice. Are you free any time tomorrow?

I can come over in the evening, once you get off work? I can bring dinner.

See you then 😊

Time seems to either go too fast or two slow. Eva barely remembers anything that happens at work the next day, and James doesn’t ask if she wants to work late, seeing that she’s a little bit out of it. Once she gets home, Eva paces aimlessly around her apartment, unsure of what to do. When she hears a knock on her door, she practically runs over to open it.

Dougie is standing there, with a bag of takeout. Whatever it is, Eva guesses that it isn’t meal plan approved. But she considers that with the conversation they’re having tonight, a bit of junk food won’t be too bad.

“Uh, come on it,” Eva says, stepping to the side to let him in. “You can set this down in the kitchen.”

Once he’s set down the food, Eva leads him to her living room, and they both take a seat down on the couch. It’s quiet for a moment, neither really knowing what to say. She’s unsure if she wants to go first, since her answer depends on what he’s thinking.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Dougie says. “And I can only imagine how hard it was for you to tell me what you did. You being bi, it’s a big part of who you are, but it’s not going to impact how much I want to date you. I want to date you because you’re an amazing person and that hasn’t changed. I know that it could turn out badly because people are shitty, but…we can figure that all out together. Admittedly, I don’t know what I can do to support you, but whatever that looks like, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Eva whispers. “I’m still a bit scared, it’s hard not to be, but I want to date you. You’re a good person and I feel like things could be good between us.”

“So, you want to date me?”

Eva snorts. “Yeah, I think I could do that.”

Dougie smiles brightly, then it dims a little. “Does this count as our first date?”

“I don’t see why not,” Eva says, shrugging.

“This isn’t how I imagined it going,” Dougie replies, scrunching his nose. “But I guess there’s no time like the present.”

“I admire your positivity.”

Dougie laughs, and Eva smiles brightly. It’s good to hear his laugh again, and Eva gets excited thinking about how she can hear it even more now.

“You know, I think your laugh is my favorite part of you,” Eva says.

“You’re really picking my laugh over my dashing good looks?” Dougie asks, feigning offense.

“Unfortunately,” Eva sighs.

There’s still so much that Eva has yet to tell Dougie, about why she left home and why she’s scared for people to find out about them. But there’ll be time for that in the future, and she doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

#dougie hamilton #carolina hurricanes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #fic #mine

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my-brothers-corrupted · 4 years

Text

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 2 : Section 7 : Runaways

The outburst of Blue’s power, too strong to be hidden beneath Anti’s careful, means they are no longer secure in their hiding place at the height of the mountain, and Anti no longer cares about making sure his curse is safe before using it. Dapper is breaking down, Red and Blue are on the chopping block for the choice they made, and Anti is struggling desperately to maintain control as he takes his puppets and flees to the north.

Trigger warnings for some of the most severe abuse yet, including manipulation, abuse between brothers, and abuse of a character having a psychotic episode. I’m telling you right now, this chapter bites. Please be careful.

Find Chapter One here.

Find Chapter Two here.

Section Seven of Chapter Two: Runaways

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok, Genesis, anyone? Are you guys okay?

When the signal comes back, your camera seems to be vibrating.

Thud thud thudding rapidly as colors and lights fly by. Mounted on the ledge of a car window, pointing back in towards the other side.

Trick is the only one who looks up at the faint beeping, his eyes wide. He glances towards the front of the car and gives you no answer, stroking his twin’s hair. Dok is sitting on the floor at his feet with the weighted blanket over his shoulders, his forehead pressed against Trick’s thigh so you can’t see his face. Dapper sits beside Trick, his knees drawn up to his chest, his big, teary eyes fixed on the floor. He’s holding his fluffy white bear to his chest, and, from his crooked nose all the way back to his right ear, there is one huge bruise, bright purple and deep black.

They’re traveling somewhere.

Above the driver’s seat, you can see the plastic antlers of Blue’s Christmas gift mask.

Anonymous asked: Just let her go, Chase. She’s got a family just like you do. It’ll alright, love.

Trick turns his face away from you, holding Doktor closer against his thigh. Dapper stares over at you, his mouth in a deep frown and tears slinking down his cheeks. Eventually he shifts, snuffling, and lets you see the golden hilt of that beautiful knife, returned to him now and cleaned of Genesis’s blood.

The car pulls over and stops.

“Okay,” says a flat voice from the front. “Wait here. I’ll get gas.”

Anti’s car door opens and shuts. Nobody moves.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Where's Red and Blue, guys?

“Front,” mumbles Trick.

Red turns back to you just for a second. His body shakes and no one has bandaged his cuts. He wears that black muzzle on his face - you can tell what it is beneath a thick scarf. He is handcuffed to the car door. You can recognize, by now, the way that guilt looks on him, and you can recognize, by instinct, the look of a man haunted.

Anonymous asked: Still wearing our boy, Anti?

Blue’s palms are a vivid red, not the flaking skin he had before, but burned. They must be painful. Anti sets them to the handle of the filthy gas nozzle and starts loading up the clean little car - stolen more likely than rented, but it hardly matters now.

“I can’t trust him right now,” he says, his voice dark. He seems to take none of his usual joy in it and his eyes are fixed blankly on the nozzle. “But I… I will… I’ll… fix it. Too much power for him.”

He sighs deep and runs his hand through Blue’s hair, singed black on one side. “Mmh… need to put the others back, too. Should I focus on Red or Dap, do you think? None of the medicine seems to be working on my little one, which makes him harder to reign in… but Red was so far off the fucking rails last night… maybe Red, maybe Red…”

Anonymous asked: personally bro I think you should focus on why it is that your whole schtick keeps tanking cuz I think there's some fundamental imbalances here that need to be addressed that you're refusing to acknowledge. or something.

Anti chews on his lip, staring at the gas nozzle.

“Should I… I just… I didn’t expect five to be so much harder than four!”

He pulls at his hair, distressed. “I thought I had taught Red better than that. Maybe I should just go back to four and keep a closer eye on all of them. Maybe I should just kill Trick and be done with it, reset them all and just… I think I could manage that, right? I used to manage Red and Trick and Dok and Dapper so well, they were just sad, and I wanted Blue to change that… but Dok would be a good twin to Dap, wouldn’t he? And Red and Blue would still be able to guard like Trick does. Maybe I should just give up on having the full set like I always wanted. Ship Trick’s body back to Jack and make him cry. I hate… I know he did this just to make it harder for me!”

Anti breaths in and then shakes his head at himself, pulling the nozzle out of the car. “No, no, no. Once I cull Blue’s power off I won’t have to be so worried about hiding them all the time and I can put all five of them back in their neat little lines. I can still do this. I just need to keep them away from the magical orders. If the Lapwings couldn’t protect Marvin from me, the Ravens won’t be able to help them either. I just need to do what I came to this country to do and then we can go again, and no one will take my pets from me.”

Anonymous asked: You read one book and suddenly you're able to take on who-knows-how-many magicians? You barely handled blue back in Norway and he hardly know what he was doing. What are you going to do against people that are actually trained?

Anti growls at you. “You are underestimating, first of all, what a goddamn little powerhouse this stupid brat is. Hardly knew what he was doing? He was one of the most accomplished magicians in the UK, you dumb fucks. Anyway, he would have been easy to kill - it’s just that I didn’t want my new pet dead.”

He snarls down at the gas nozzle and shoves it back into the tower. The electric little screen reading “S/.116.030″ glitches and the number disappears.

“These little thieves who are trying to take what belongs to me have no such guarantee. I will slaughter anyone who comes near them.”

nikkilbook asked: Yes, because literally the only possibly reason Jack could have created them all was exclusively to annoy you. No other reason. Not like they’re people, have been people, always will be people, and people don’t exist for only reason and especially not just out of spite. No, it’s definitely just to annoy you.

“He made that stupid little Jameson just to save him! That stupid doctor because he could feel me growing and knew he would need a healer! Jackie to protect him, Marvin to hide him, Chase to laugh while he cried! You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe him to be a selfless man - you’ll recall, after all, that I was only ever created to fucking entertain you!”

Anonymous asked: you're ignoring that there's actually six of you. you can't even handle yourself, bro. it IS an option to just like. let the boys do whatever they want. love is a stronger bond than fear, you saw that firsthand last night my dude.

“But then they’d go!” Anti clutches his burned hands into fists so hard he makes welts burst, and blood and clear puss come running down his wrists. “And they can’t! They can’t go! They’re mine, I’m owed them! They belong to me now! Better than being with Jack! Better than being with Jack!”

Anonymous asked: ok I would like your logic on why they were sad and if it doesn't include somewhere the phrase "being held against their will by a volatile puppetmaster and stripped of essential human freedoms" i'd kindly ask you to reword yourself

“Maybe they deserve to be sad sometimes,” Anti snarls, gritting his teeth. “Maybe they deserve everything I’ve ever done to them.”

Anonymous asked: bruhhhh if they loved you enough they'd never go. that's the reason we can't get Blue to up and skedaddle. he loves his brothers way more than he fears you.

“But they don’t love me,” says Anti. “And no one does without my control. So there’s no point to you trying to convince me. I know what I am. I only pretend not to be a monster around them, you know. I don’t try to tell myself any different. I never have. Not since I was little.”

bupine asked: what is it that you came to this country to do, anti? we never did find that out. is it something you're gonna be cryptic about or can you tell us?

“You never asked,” he says. And then: “There are parts of the world that are more magical than others. And I have a spell to cast.”

immabethehero asked: Hey Anti, here's a wild idea. let them run around for like a week with no chains and then they'll be happy.

“Haha! Oh, fuck, are you joking? They’d fall apart and never come back to me. Bet you a thousand sols at least one of them would die. Most of them would come running back to me. Hey, have you guys ever read Life of Pi?”

He glances at you like he expects an answer, but doesn’t actually check for one.

“He talks about, like… people like to go ‘oh, the poor animals in the zoo, all locked away!’ But the animals in the zoo aren’t actually unhappy. They’re glad they’re in the zoo. They’ve got space and food and routine. And if you shoved a family of people out of their house and you went ‘go, be free!’ they wouldn’t actually be free and they wouldn’t want to leave. They’d want to go back into the house. They’d want to go back into the house aggressively. They’d force you to let them go back into the house.”

He shrugs. “My boys belong in the house. Being let out wouldn’t be real freedom. Especially seeing as most of them would be caught and put in jail for life! Red and Dapper certainly, probably Dok too, maybe Trick if they could convict him. No, no, better off with me. The outside world is a scary place without master to look after you. I guarantee - I fucking promise - soon enough, they’d miss me.”

Anonymous asked: I’m sorry, but you don’t get the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it’s time for you to move on to better things, y’know? Find some other...hobby or whatever. They’ll never stop breaking out of what ever the hell you’ve put them under, and soon they’ll be too strong for you to ever get them back under. They are so much more than puppets and once you realize that it’ll be far too late for you.

“I didn’t ask you for the benefit of the doubt and I don’t care what you think. And if you’re so convinced that they’ll never stop? They’ll never give up, they’ll never stop trying to be free?”

He turns to you with black eyes.

“I swear I will match every second of their determination, and bring them back under my control. Every. Single. Time. If I have to struggle for the rest of my fucking life. So be it. So be it.”

bupine asked: anti, my dude, look at urself. ur stressed the fuck out and the boys are scared and hurt and remembering again. you can't take care of all of this urself, u just fucking can't. u can't keep wiping their memories and torturing and gaslighting and burning urself out. i know ur not gonna listen to this at all and ur probably just gonna give some sarcastic response but fucking hell u know u can't keep doing this. something has to change here, and that something is u, i'm gonna be honest.

“I’ll do this as many times as I have to!” he screams.

It’s a good thing this gas station lot is mostly empty. He’s starting to look stressed.

“I’ll do whatever I have to! As long as I have to! Forever! I’m not letting anyone go! They’re mine! They’re mine! They’re mine!”

Anonymous asked: That doesn’t sound like a way to live

“Better than the alternative!” screams Anti. “Better than being - I’m not going back to - I’m not letting them go!”

immabethehero asked: You're stressed, Anti. It really shows

“Thank you for your stunning analysis, PsyD,” he snarls.

Anonymous asked: whatever you say, pal. just trying to make your life easier.

Anti growls and turns away from you. “None of you understand anything.”

dancing-anon asked: So, Anti, what's the deal with you and Sean? Why do you hate him?

“Don’t say that fucking name. We’re not talking about this. All of you be quiet.”

musical-in-theory asked: Anti you are a textbook control freak who’s just now learning that they have so very little control. Poor little thing, your strings are becoming quite frayed...

“Bit the strings off myself,” he mumbles. “No connections left to him now.”

Anonymous asked: Dapper this is not your fault, please do not blame yourself, love.

Dapper looks up at you, weakly clutching his bear to his chest, and tries to nod. Trick reaches over to rub his shoulder, but Dapper draws away, hiding his face in his bear.

dancing-anon asked: Okay now I just wanna know more about Anti and Sean-

Anti laughs hysterically. “I know you do! Everyone did! Because that’s all I ever was! A storyline! Yes, I know, you want to know all about me, don’t you? Want to see me a hundred times over! I’m a fun toy to play with, aren’t I? A fun video to rewatch? Oh, do you still shiver when he draws the little toy knife to his throat? Did JJJJ scare you? And when you finally saw me with the others, all of us lined up just the way Jack wanted, in his little costumes and accents and special effects, didn’t it just make your month! Leave me the fuck alone. I’m not a goddamn prop.”

Anonymous asked: “Gotta love how you don't even try to be better. 'Oh, poor me, made to be a monster' well fucking change that, then. If you hate your Jack so much because of what he made you, then stop doing exactly what he made you to do. And you want to be loved by these five who you admit to hating so much? I don't even know where to begin with that. You’re so obsessed with every ounce of control, that you can't even settle for being as in control as you clearly already are. That's sad." - I!A

“There’s no changing anything now. There never was any changing anything. I just realized late.”

Anonymous asked: Why are you so afraid of being on your own?

“I’m not afraid,” hisses Anti.

Glitches warp the gas station tower screen.

“I’m not afraid.”

immabethehero asked: Are you still in Mexico, drama queen?

“I’ve never been in fucking Mexico! Why did you think Mexico? Because they speak Spanish here?”

Anonymous asked: dapper, are you all right? any symptoms hurting you too much? i know what it's like... some of the stuff you're dealing with... and i'm sorry medication hasn't been helping you. you're doing a great job hanging in there

“I can’t tell what’s going on,” moans Dapper, barely taking his hands off his bear to sign to you. “N-nobody looks right, and everyone’s acting weird, and my face hurts, and I’m scared, I’m scared, I don’t know what’s happening, I want to go home.”

“He’s having bad delusions,” mumbles Trick, still just stroking Dok’s hair, for hours, for hours. His twin stopped responding some time ago.

immabethehero asked: YOU'RE IN SPAIN

“NO, I’M NOT. HOW MANY SPANISH-SPEAKING COUNTRIES DO YOU THINK THERE ARE?”

Anonymous asked: Columbia, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru?

“Don’t care to tell you,” Anti simpers, looking a little calmer now. He knows and you don’t.

Anonymous asked: Brazil. Got it.

“Oh, haha, are you pleased with yourself? No. I let you see plenty of hints so you figure it out.”

immabethehero asked: Puerto Rico?

“Leave me alone.”

Anonymous asked: I figured it was Brazil, smartass. Ever heard of confirmation?

“It’s not Brazil. Ever heard of being wrong?”

Anonymous asked: It’s Ecuador.

“I told you, I’m done talking.”

Anonymous asked: My mistake, Ecuador, right? They speak Portuguese in Brazil, pardon.

“They do speak Portuguese in Brazil, yes. A lot of you are Americans, huh? We’re done talking about this. I’ll ignore the rest of you, do you understand?”

Anonymous asked: Well damn, you certainly wanted to be far away from Jack then, huh?

Anti chuckles. “We’ve been all over. Dap and I were in Japan for a while. Just wanted to see what it was like. I love it there, actually. If I could stay somewhere, it would probably be Japan.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe the medicine is working too well, Dap...

“No,” says Trick, looking a little grumpy at this. “You saw him when the medicine was working. You were with us in Norway. He got a little confused, sometimes, but for the most part he was able to function just fine. It’s when he doesn’t have his medicine right that things get to be hard for him.”

Dap stares over at Trick, a little hope coming back to him. “It’s just medicine problems, C-love? It’s just confusion? Will I remember once we fix it?”

“Yeah, sweetie, yeah.” Trick reaches over to stroke his hair, and this time, Dap allows it. “I’m sure you’re just confused, honey. We’re trying really hard to make it work, okay?”

Anonymous asked: Hey Red, just want you to know you did the right thing. Don't lose faith.

Red doesn’t turn back to you.

But you see him shaking his head, just a little, his shoulders heaving.

immabethehero asked: Trick, is Doc okay?

“Um…”

Trick glances down at Dok, running his fingers through his hair.

“I… he… there’s just a lot going on right now. Once we’re safe, everything will be a-okay, a-okay. Anti’s taking us somewhere safe! To make up for fucking Red and Blue…”

nikkilbook asked: Red, I know this is probably cold comfort, but I think you made the right decision in helping Blue up the mountain. You did a good job, you were a good brother. I’m really proud of you. And I think Blue is, too.

Red slams his head back against the car headrest, panting. Trick lets out a grim laugh, looking shaken.

“Blue’s not anything, right now.”

nikkilbook asked: If you’re not a prop, stop acting like it. A prop is defined exclusively by its purpose within a scene, how it’s used and who uses it. A good actor can give the illusion that it’s always existed, but ultimately it is defined from curtain to curtain. A person is defined by a hundred thousand billion things, their relationships and interactions and wants and desires and flaws and struggles and emotions. All you’ve ever shown us is that you are doing these things to thumb your nose at him, prop.

“This is me being more than a prop. When was the last time you saw a scenic armchair kidnap five characters and drag them away from the storywriter?”

bupine asked: we know you're not a prop, anti. we just want you to leave the boys alone, which we know you won't do cause you're quite frankly just a stubborn, attention seeking asshole. like yeah we know you've got abandonment issues but fuck stop making that everyone else's problem fdhfghjhdg

“Yep, sounds about right,” he taunts you.

bupine asked: so what were the boys like before you had them, anti? tell us about that

Anti pauses, staring out at the sky.

“I remember… the fear in Jameson’s eyes, but also the determination, stabbing at my hands when I tried to take him away. And he was scared to swear but when he saw things he would hiss and spit at them until the paranoia made him break down, cause there was also something fearless to him.”

Anti opens his mouth and then pauses, maybe regretting his sentimentalizing.

“I don’t know. Jackie was loud and he hunted me well, I’ll give him that much. Marvin was this cocky, powerful thing, always flashing with jewelry - I always liked the way he shone. Henrik was tireless, Chase was a survivor. They had become, like I had, their own people.”

nikkilbook asked: Dap, I don’t think we ever asked, sorry—who are the ghosts? I remember seeing you having a puppet show with one, about Bro Average, but no one ever explained what was going on? And you don’t have to explain this if you don’t want to, but... who’s the red man?

Dapper sits back in his chair, a slightly glazed look coming over his eyes.

“Oh, I can see so many ghosts. Sometimes they’re scary but sometimes they’re nice. Look!”

He points over at Doktor. Trick nervously holds his twin against him.

“It’s H-healing! His hair’s all green and he’s in Jack’s silly doctor costume. He keeps making jokes about fake surgeries and he’s so loud! He’ll bring me medicine if I get sick, but he’s still a ghost, he just doesn’t know it.”

Anonymous asked: Ah yes this again, because Jack is actually capable of love and you wanna daddy to love you, too, right?

Anti stares into the distance.

“Well, I guess that’s the other thing I remember,” he says. “That they all really loved each other. Always kind of… fucking hated that. And they’d all be smiling…”

Blue’s lips curl up into a sneer.

Anonymous asked: Ruined five perfectly good people, is what you did. Look at them, they've got anxiety.

“Glad we agree they’re ruined. Okay, let’s wrap this up, idiots, we gotta keep moving and I hope you know I’m not talking to you in the car.”

musical-in-theory asked: Why the fuck do you think that they deserve any of this???

“Please,” snaps Anti. “Assholes. Stupid - with their fucking house all together and all their goddamn ranting about ‘oh, we’re all brothers, we’re all family!’ Here’s what I think of your brotherhood - I can cut you into pairs and make you obsess over each other. Annoying fuckers. And Jack always looking at them with his goddamn - and they look - they look fucking just like him, and not in a way like I look like him, no matter how much I look like him, because they’re - they’re - they’re like him and - ”

Anti cuts himself off, turning away from you, panting.

Anonymous asked: Please see sense, Anti. Something about your methods has to change. It's not Blue's power or Dap's medicine that's the real problem. They will always rebel if your first instinct is to muzzle and collar and torture them.

“I’ll squash every rebellion, then.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, who are you to decide what they deserve and what they don't? Even if they are your brothers, you should all be included and loved equally

“Okay, Mother Theresa, thanks for your words of wisdom. What about me makes you think I give a damn, and how do I correct that perception?”

Anonymous asked: Hes a scaredycat aw

“Shut the fuck up!” screams Anti. “Shut the fuck up!”

bupine asked: did you used to believe you weren't a monster?

“No, of course I did! I - you think you can look like a thing like me and not - you think - as if I wasn’t born with blood all over my hands, like - I know what I am! Why does the past matter?”

Anonymous asked: Why are you so hell-bent on keeping them?

“They’re mine, they’re mine, they’re mine!” screams Anti, shrieking like a seagull and glitching like a virus. “If I can’t have Jack I’ll take every fucking part of him! They belong to me, he owes them to me, he can’t them, he’s mine! I’m the master, I am, I am! Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!”

the-weirdest-fan asked: Do you ever regret making them your puppets, Anti? I know you probably dont feel bad for them, but do you miss the collection process? Surely that was pretty fun, right? Are you ever tempted to just say the hell with it, and kill them?

“I always used to dream about killing them,” says Anti, in a voice shaking with fervor, his eyes too wide. Blood is welling up against his shirt. “Sometimes I just want to see them all stop breathing. I could d-drive all six of us off a cliff and that would be it, that would be it, that would be it. Miss collection, miss collection, no, no, no, I like having them with me. Everything was so much safer once I had my little boy. Everything was promised, everything is okay when my little boy is working right. I just have to put him back together and cast my spell and go and everything is fine, everything is fine, everything is fine…”

Anonymous asked: You must be really scared then, Anti, being away from your own master and all.

Anti freezes stiff, his face turned away from you.

The wind brushes through his hair and the sun glows down on him. Blue’s deer mask fills up with light, and for just a second, Anti stands in it, and you see the light dusting of freckles along Blue’s arms, and the burned hairs of his beard, and the strong, proud curve of that back.

Eventually Anti turns around again and limps towards the car like he’s been punched in the stomach, taking you with him. His trembling hands turn the camera off, and you are plunged back into darkness as you lose your connection to the car.

Anonymous asked: I know a lot has happened and were in a real transitional mess once again...but I have to know: How is Noodle the cat?

Your sound comes back before your video.

A car door slams shut and then another opens, and someone gives a small gasp. There is a fumbling bumping noise as the camera is pressed into someone’s hands.

“So I can keep an eye on you all.” Anti’s voice is simmering water. There is a small click and Trick’s face appears above you, looking pale and scared. “I’m going to go get you something to eat. Keep your brothers in line.”

The door shuts and Anti is gone.

For a long moment, the car is silent.

Trick puts you back up on the ledge of the window so you can see everyone, smiling weakly. Dok is sitting beside him now, with Dapper on the floor instead. Red, in the passenger’s seat, might be asleep, and you can hear him breathing steady and deep.

“Noodle,” says Trick, trying to keep his voice light. “Is great! He’s the best boy in the world and I’ve got him right here.”

He reaches down to scoop the little cat up, presenting him to you with a shaking grin. Noodle mewls softly and paws at his hands, and suddenly Trick, without knowing why, is on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, you’re a good boy, huh?” he whispers, kissing his cat’s head. “You’re my good boy. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: They're in Peru. (or were, depending on when we reconnect). What are your thoughts on the Nazca Lines?

“Oh, uh,” Trick pauses, laughing nervously. “I didn’t know where we were. I, uh. Don’t know what those are. I’m sorry. I didn’t leave the house much… in fact, I haven’t in… weeks… well, not farther than the mountainside. I haven’t seen the city since we got off the plane. So, not much sight-seeing, you know? Those sound cool, though, whatever they are.”

“Carvings in the desert,” mumbles Dok, his head resting against the cool glass of the car window. “Far south of us.”

Relief washes down Trick’s face and he turns to grab his shoulder, beaming at him. “Hey, buddy, you with me again?”

Dok breathes slowly in. He seems to be making an effort to turn his head back towards Trick, to open his mouth and answer him, but eventually he just takes a shuddering breath and sinks down onto Trick’s shoulder, burying his face against him.

Trick squishes him into a hug, pressing their heads close together.

“We’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I got you, don’t I? So everything’s going to be just fine.”

Anonymous asked: They’ll come, Marvin, just wait. It’s gonna be okay. Take it slow.

Dapper stares up at you, distress beginning to fill up his face again. You hear Trick give a deep sigh.

“Who’s coming? Where are we, where are we going? Why is nobody acting like themselves? I don’t want the bad men to come. There are people coming to get us and hurt us and eat us.”

“Dap! Nobody’s going to eat us!”

“Where’s Marvin? What is he waiting for? I want Marvin, I want Marvin!”

“Dapper, please, all you’ve been doing for hours is crying! Can you cut it out for two minutes, please!”

“We’re going somewhere bad! We’re going somewhere bad! Everything is shaking with power and it gets worse the closer we are. Too much magic, too much magic. I want Marvin. I’m hungry.”

“Anti went to get food, Dap.”

“Anti?”

Dapper falls quiet, rocking himself on the floor of the car.

Trick sighs and turns back to you. “And that’s something to thank God for, let me tell you. I was starting to get worried we were just going to keep driving and driving.”

“Blue’s not here to take care of us,” whispers Dok. “So he almost forgot we needed to eat.”

Trick sobers, staring down at the floor.

“They’re coming to get us,” Dapper complains, his eyes closed and his head pushed against the back of Red’s seat. “Scared, scared, scared. Ghosts! Ghosts! My stomach hurts, I hate this new medicine, I want my brain to work again!”

Trick runs his hand down his face, tugs Dok closer to his shoulder, and checks again on Red’s heartbeat, beginning to feel more than a little overwhelmed. Noodle sits purring on his lap.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How long have you guys been on the road?

“Hours, I guess,” sighs Trick, staring out his window. “Clock on the car is digital, so it just keeps glitching. Sun’s high now. We left in the dead of night. We stopped for a bathroom like, twice, but that’s all. I hope Anti gets us something good. Pizza or hamburgers - or - fried chicken or something so fatty and American it just about kills me on the spot.” His face is lit up. “Dok, what would you go for if you could have anything in the world right now?”

Dok lets out a short sigh, trying to think. “Mh… bacon sandwich…”

Laughter bubbles out of Trick like a fountain. “Bacon sandwich?”

“Bacon sandwich,” whispers Dok, grinning frailly up at him. His eyes may as well be lit from the inside, and heated, too, with warmth like that. “Toasty bacon sandwich… with… tomato.”

“Oh, here he comes!”

Anti returns to the car and pulls open Trick’s door. “Look edible, pup?”

Trick startles. “Oh - me?”

“Yeah? Aren’t you hungry?”

He can’t remember the last time Anti called him puppy! A burst of schadenfreude joy lights up in Trick’s chest and he resists the urge to give Dapper a smirk, instead reaching eagerly out to accept the brown take-out bag from Anti’s hands. Inside, sandwiches gleam brighter than silver inside of crinkling aluminum foil.

“Fuck, you got so many,” gasps Trick. “And - mashed potatoes too, and green beans!”

“I need to make sure you all get a good meal. Things might be… rough for a while. We might have to fight soon, Trick.”

Trick looks up, afraid. “Those people… they’re really going to catch up with us. Aren’t they, master?”

Anti sighs. For a second, he doesn’t look angry, or cruel, or biting - he just looks sad.

“Yeah, Tricks, I think so.”

“Anti?” asks Dok. “Can we get out of the car for a while?”

“Yeah, come on. Get Dap and Red out too. Stretch and sit down and eat. I think we need to… talk about some things before anything happens.”

A cold light gleams in his eyes again. “And maybe I need to reinforce a couple old lessons.”

bupine asked: shit, anti, can you not leave them alone for two minutes?

Anti seats himself at a little park table as his boys gather themselves together and start helping each other out of the car - well, mostly Trick, though Dok keeps turning around to check that Dapper is close at hand. Noodle paces around a tree on a little cat leash fashioned lovingly, carefully, out of cheap string.

Anti hums, feeling a breeze brush over Blue’s hair. He holds himself strangely, slumped over the table but not allowing his chest to touch the wood. He keeps shifting his hands and readjusting the mask on his pale face.

“Look,” he says. “What would be the point of any of this if I left them alone? If they sat here happily on this bench eating their green beans and giving Dapper little kisses on the cheek til his boo-boos are gone? If I let Blue go and him and Red got to cuddle for a while and feed each other roast beef? Please.”

Anti shifts, massaging at his chest, a little winded.

“Besides, then none of them would learn their lesson. The way Red, Blue, and Dapper acted last night is the most unacceptable thing I’ve seen since the night Jackie tried to run away with Dapper. No, he has to learn his lesson again, like he did now. And let’s stop lying to each other - you’re going to love every aching second of it.”

He smirks and adjusts the camera so you can see the expanse of the little rest stop lawn, some privacy provided between him and the convenience store where he bought the sandwiches by a few thin but determined trees.

“In fact,” he says. “Seeing as you were a part of what happened last night, I think you should be a part of this too, don’t you think?

“Red and Dapper need to be punished, and it has to happen before those fucking magicians catch up with us. Blue will get what he deserves when we get where we’re going. But we have a couple options and I think we should be entertained by it, don’t you? So you can pick.

“I can hypnotize one of them and spar with the other - you choose which of each, it doesn’t matter to me. Or I can make them both spar with each other, and the winner can beat the other one into a goddamn pulp.”

Anti leans back, Blue’s eyes glittering black in his stolen face.

“Decide. We both know you want to. You can do it without even telling us who you are… are you already thinking about it? Wouldn’t it be fun to see Dap hypnotized? Or Red? To spare one of them the pain of a real punishment, and let him sink back into my power again? Or wouldn’t you like to find out which one of them would win in a real fight? Come on. Don’t pretend. Decide.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How about none of the above? Let them be who they are, Anti.

“Boring,” sings Anti. “You can be more creative than that, can’t you? I’ll let you have some time to decide, but I expect an answer.”

He sits back as his boys approach, Trick chattering to Dok about everything and nothing, re-invigorated by affection and food. He sits himself right down next to Anti - a bold move - and starts pulling out food for his brothers. Dok sits wearily down beside him, pulling open his sandwich with tentative eyes, like he expects something to jump out and sting him. Dapper stares down at his sandwich, unenthused.

Red, for his part, is still standing by the car, looking panicked and ill, afraid of what Anti is planning for him - and he knows it must be something. Trick did not help him to the table and Dok and Dapper are not well enough to care for anyone right now.

“Um, Anti,” begins Dok softly.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Dok’s mouth opens and closes again. He’s looking at Blue’s thin frame. After a moment he shakes his head and sits back again, glancing nervously over at you for help as Anti picks boredly at the wood of the table, not even glancing at the food and water.

bupine asked: anti, is your chest hurt? also, when did red and dapper try to run away, was that is norway? unrelated to both of these questions but how about no one fights! i feel like the trauma of last night is punishment enough, but i know you won't agree

“Oh, no,” says Anti. He reaches over and rubs at Dapper’s back, pulling on his overgrown curls. Dapper doesn’t seem to know how to react. “That was back in… yeah, we were still near home then. I brought Dapper to lure the hero in. He came almost right away. I broke him in pretty well, but after about a month he had a moment of weakness and he took Dap and ran. My poor little boy was too sick to even protest, just followed after the hero.”

His voice stiffens as he rereads your question. “Blue’s chest is… it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Doktor sinks down on the other side of the table, picking nervously at his bread.

Anonymous asked: dok is something wrong? are you worried about something?

Dok glances over at you and touches his stomach, looking back at Blue.

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, it might be a good idea to let Blue eat. He’s probably starving after all that energy he used. He’ll get sick if he doesn’t. Anonymous asked: Anti, you should eat something. Blue’s body is starving like this. Bupine asked: anti, you need to eat too. For blue, obviously. He’s human too man. Anonymous said: anti, you’re going to seriously hurt blue if you don’t eat and drink. If you want to have an easier time managing them, you might want to prevent him from becoming severely ill

“Oh.” Anti blinks and sits up, scowling. “I forgot about that. I’ll eat later. Hate that fucking… swallowing and the way the stomach moves… and if I’m being honest, Blue doesn’t fit very well. He kind of - ”

Anti flinches suddenly, eyes wide, and his hands clench together.

“Stings,” he hisses, waving them through the air. “But maybe that’s the… burns…”

“Anti,” whispers Dok.

“What, darling?”

When Dok doesn’t answer right away, Anti looks up at him.

His face is bloodlessly pale and his hands folded gently in his lap. Downcast eyebrows and a pinched, sorrowful mouth make him look about as pathetic as Anti has ever seen him.

Usually Anti would laugh at him for begging, or pet and flatter him and enjoy the moment of weakness, but suddenly he doesn’t think that Dok is begging or acting at all. Not like Dapper learned to do when he was small. Dok has never done that. Dok is too straight-forward. Dok is a rod and always has been.

“I would like you please to eat,” he says softly. “Please.”

Blue’s mouth falls slightly open as he stares at him.

Then he shuts it again with a deep sigh, trying to banish old memories of a spit-fire doctor with a scalpel in his hand and Chase under his arm, yelling and refusing to be hypnotized, kicking when he was taken out of his cell…

“You never cause me any trouble, do you, Dok?”

Dok’s mouth smiles, but it never reaches his eyes.

“Try not to, master.”

Anti stares at him. Memorizes his face, in all the ways it is different from the others - the streaks of grey in his hair, the imprints of the carefully clean glasses, the way he holds himself, still proud after all these years…

“When we get where we’re going,” he says. “You’re going to watch over your little brothers and keep them hidden. You’re going to be tough and not break down and stop talking again. You’re going to keep Dapper safe and away from the fighting. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti,” whispers Dok. “Whatever you ask.”

Anti nods shortly, a small blush on his cheek, no longer able to meet Doktor’s eyes.

“Good boy,” he says shortly, and reaches for a sandwich.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, why don’t you take the camera over to Red and see if we can get him to come to the table to eat, yeah?

“Who’s Red?” whimpers Dap, curling in on himself. “Why is everyone acting so wrong? Why does Marvin burn like that? He is radiating black and blue. That’s not the right kind of light. That’s how you get burned. Bad magic. Good magic. Doesn’t it sting? Why is everyone acting so wrong?”

nikkilbook asked: Red? How’re you feeling, buddy? You weren’t doing so great the last time I talked to you, but then it looked like you at least got some sleep. Will Anti let you eat, or no? At the very least, you should go sit with Noodle. I bet playing with a little kitty will help.

Red is shaky and white. He glances over at you on the car window, his face contorted with pain. After a moment, you see his hands reach up to touch the muzzle on his face - and then fall again - and then rise again - he crumples back against the car door, panting through his nose and clutching at his hair.

“Hungry,” he signs. “But bad. Punishment. Afraid.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap? How much of the truth are you remembering?

“I can’t tell what’s real,” wheezes Dapper with shaking hands, growing more and more upset, though a hand on his shoulder from Dok helps to calm him a little. “I can see a thousand pasts. I can’t see a single future. I want to go home but don’t remember where it is.”

“Dapper,” warns Anti softly, his eyes flickering up to him. Be cautious.

immabethehero asked: Dapper, Anti'll be furious if he hears you call Marvin by his real name. The others too. Marvin is Blue. That's who Anti is possessing right now. Jackie is Red. Chase is Trick. Henrik is Doktor. Use those names and don't let Anti know about this! He might do something awful!

Dapper rubs at his teary face, distressed. “No, none of them are my brothers! They’re all Anti! I can feel him! I can see ghosts! I can see their ghosts! Anti killed my brothers!”

nikkilbook asked: Red’s the name Glitchy McGee gave J-happy.

“Happy, happy,” whisper Dapper’s hands. “Joy.”

He breathes in and out deeply. You can almost see him forcing himself to calm down, staring over at Red by the car, his eyes wide. After a moment, he rises to his feet and heads towards Red.

Anti allows it, chewing on his sandwich. Trick and Dok exchange anxious looks, but they’re splitting a cup of mashed potatoes as quickly as they can, like they’re afraid the food will disappear.

“Here, here,” signs Dap, approaching. “It’s okay, Joy.”

Red’s eyes are like a horse caught in a barn fire. He throws his head, his hands reaching up, scared to unclasp the muzzle.

It’s like Blue said. You can always untie the rope, or tear out the stake, or unclasp the mask, but you never know what might come afterwards.

Dapper reaches gently up and undoes the clasp, pulling it away from Red’s face. It has dug dark purple bruises into his face and his mouth is white without enough blood moving through it, but it doesn’t seem to matter. His eyes are fixed on Dapper.

“Come on.” Dapper reaches out a hand. Red takes it and lets himself be pulled carefully towards the table and the food.

immabethehero asked: Dapper. Anti's brainwashed all your brothers. They're not dead. Just brainwashed.

“Oh, please, stop playing with him,” sighs Anti, rolling his eyes. “You can’t make sense to him when he’s all fucking crazy like this. Just leave him alone. I bet I can make him play baby again if I fuss over him for a little while, or wake up Carver if I shove him around a little. He’s fine. He just has… days. It’s a confused day, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked: maybe some other kinds of medication could help dap, not just with his hallucinations, but also with his paranoia? maybe anxiety medication could help?

“Haven’t had time to try anything like that,” mumbles Dok, rubbing at his face. Oh, his bones are so tired. “Barely got him off the Risperdal - he had to have it all out of his system before I could start him on anything new. And then the last one I tried made him really sick and moody and weepy, so I’m just getting him off that one too so we can try something else. Maybe some combinations would be a good idea. I’m afraid nothing is ever going to work as well as the Haldol did. But sometimes our bodies get too used to medicines and we just have to work around it now. Soon as we settle down safe again, I’ll find something that works, I promise.”

Anonymous asked: Thank you, Dap.

He gives you a big, nervous smile, his face twitching.

immabethehero asked: Why do you have so many nicknames for Dapper? Are they his own egos? (No pun intended i swear)

Anti blinks, assessing his youngest from the other side of the table.

“Mostly it was just me being fond of him. Pet names and what not. Carver is a compliment, it means he’s like me. But as I began to spend time with him and saw the ways his mental state could change from day to day, I did notice a difference, and at some point, I started to think of the more violent days as Carver’s, and the sweeter ones as Dapper’s. And, when he’s very, very quiet, and very deep in his own head, and can’t even get his limbs to move, and his magic is beyond his control, that is Monochroma. But I haven’t seen Monochroma since his snap. No, though, he doesn’t have alters or anything like that. It’s just me organizing his moods.”

nikkilbook asked: Anti said something about having you and Dapper fight. He wasn’t sure if he was going to possess one of you or just have you fight until one of you’s beat into the ground. We’re trying to make him change his mind, but... I don’t know if we’ll be able to. I’m sorry. Be safe, okay? And please, go see if they’ll let you eat. No sense letting yourself starve. Abirbable and pixie-in-trebleland sent similar asks and were added.

Red’s face contorts for a second at the first message, but he’s too hungry to focus on it. He reaches anxiously out for a sandwich and Dok presses it into his hand.

Red sinks away from the table and begins scarfing it down, his eyes flickering all around, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. He can’t get himself to calm down and even the brightness of the afternoon seems painful when he’s this overwhelmed. He feels a little more comfortable with Dapper at his side, at least.

He scoots in front of his little brother, relieved to have him behind him.

Anonymous asked: Dok don’t stress out, you’re all doing your best and that’s all that matters, alright? You’re taking care of Dapper and everyone else very well.

“Yeah!” Trick beams at his twin and presses a bottle of water into his hand. “Everything’s okay, Dok-Dok, see?”

Dok smiles wearily at both of you, his eyes ringed in dark circles.

“Guess for now I can just eat, huh?”

“Exactly,” soothes Trick, squeezing his hand. “Exactly. We’re okay. Anti’s got everything under control. Right, Anti?”

“Course, baby.”

Trick glows with affection, simpering at Anti, who giggles just to see that dopey, over-enthused smile. He reaches out to put his hand on Trick’s, massaging his palm, and Trick about melts.

“Listen, love,” says Anti. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

“Oh, yes, Anti, okay.”

“Red and Blue can’t be trusted right now. You know that.”

“Yes, Anti. They’re the ones that caused this. We’d be safe if they hadn’t done that.”

“There’s my good boy. You have been listening, huh? I’m worried the magicians maybe even got into their heads.”

Trick’s eyes are wide. “Really?”

“Yes. So you can’t listen to anyone but me now, right? Me and Dok. Those magicians might try and get in your head too. They might promise you things. Hell, even these fuckers in the camera might promise you things.”

Trick shoots you an irritable look.

“But I need to be able to finish this project with Blue. While I’m doing that, I can’t be interrupted. Do you understand?”

“Oh, yes. And you can’t trust Red to watch your back.”

“Exactly. Dok isn’t a fighter and Dapper isn’t well right now. That means you, Trick - you have to protect them while I do what I need to do.”

Trick has puffed up like a lion, his back straight. “Of course. I’ll keep them both safe. I won’t listen to anyone who tells me to go or to let anything bad happen. Anti, I’ll be really, really good.”

Anti smiles warmly at him and Trick’s cheeks rush with blood.

“You keep Dapper and Doktor safe from the magicians when they come,” he says. “And you and your twin can have anything you want in the next place we stay. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Yes.”

“Promise me.”

“I swear, Anti. I swear.”

“Good boy.”

nikkilbook asked: You had a scarf, right? To hide the muzzle? Try pulling that over your head to filter out some of the light.

Red likes that. All he wants to sense right now is the taste of his food and Dapper’s library book smell. He lies down in the grass and tugs his scarf over his eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief and running his hands over the patchy yellow grass.

abirbable asked: This may sound weird, but maybe try some breathing exercises, Red. That always calms me down. Or even listening to someone else’s pulse (as long as it’s steady).

Red breathes in.

Breathes out.

Breathes in -

Oh, shaky on that one.

Breathes out.

Trying not to cry.

“Want Blue,” he whispers.

spicydanhowell asked: trick you fucking bootlicker istg

Doktor barks out a laugh and immediately covers his mouth with his hands. Trick blushes bright red, a sudden terror in his eyes. Doktor looks guilty the second their eyes meet across the table.

“Sorry!” He tells him hastily, reaching out to pat Trick’s hand. “Wasn’t agreeing! Just surprised me.”

His twin draws away, trying to swallow.

Then Anti giggles too.

Trying to breathe, Trick chokes out something about checking on his cat and hurries over to Noodle before he can start crying, turning his back to the table and sitting quickly down with him in his lap. He pets rapidly at Noodle’s head, hugging him to his chest.

“You’re such a good boy,” he croaks, kissing his cat. “You’re good, you’re good, you’re good. You’re just trying to be good, it’s okay, I love you.”

Anonymous asked: hey dap, i know how scared and alone you must feel right now. we’re going to play a quick little game, okay? I want you to name five little things you can see around you, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. can you do that for me?

Dapper claps his hands together, a slightly over-bright light in his eyes, beginning to get his manic, confused enthusiasm back as his mood shifts again.

“I see - a deer covered in flowers. A pretty golden cat. I see bruises down this face and burns hiding on that one. I see my mustache!”

He pouts out his lips to bring it into his eyesight and grins at you. The smile is a little crooked.

“I can touch… warm grass. Black sweatshirt. Clean white dress shirt, except that my nose bled all over it. Bruise on my face. Stings. Stings. Master kicked me.”

The smile is very crooked.

“I can hear him breathing a little too fast next to me. I can hear him crying over by the trees. I can hear the wind.”

“I smell… forest magic. Black magic. Not a good combination, you see. We’re getting closer and closer and closer to a place very powerful. This, I think, is bad.”

He nods sagely and pops a bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“And I can taste roast beef! That was fun!”

Abirbable asked: I have a great idea for a third option! How about a fuckiNG V I B E C H E C K to the face?! Spicydanhowell asked: I don’t want to see them hypnotized. Ughhfbdshgdfn. Anonymous asked: Seriously? We can’t do that to them, Anti. Anonymous asked: uhhhhhhhh no. Anonymous asked: You know you can’t force down reality forever, right? They’re still the same people deep down, no matter how many spells you cast or minds you destroy. I get that maybe all you want is to be loved, but training your brothers to be your hound dogs that fight for scraps isn’t really the way to truly achieve that. Leave them be.

“You five,” says Anti, pointing at the camera. “Are the boring ones.”

He gets to his feet. Dok looks up at him, surprised, finishing off his second sandwich.

“Are we going, Anti?”

“In a moment. But first, why don’t we play a game, huh, Dok-Dok?”

immabethehero asked: WHo needs Anti's love, Trick? You've got the love of Dok and Red and Blue and Dap, and us! We're annoying as fuck but we don't constantly abuse you and take our daddy issues out on you

“I don’t want to talk,” whispers Trick, hiding his face in Noodle’s fur. He meows, valiantly licking at Trick’s fingers.

Anonymous asked: why don't you fight one of them, glitch bitch?

“Now we’re talking,” grins Anti, his eyes filling up with a wild light.

Anonymous asked: I really don’t like the sound of that.

“Check that. You six are the boring ones.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, do you know where you guys are headed?

“Some place much too powerful,” mumble Dapper’s hands, beginning to get a little sloppy with his signing. “A place for bad spells and bad people.”

“Dap, Red,” calls Anti. “Get up, boys.”

Anonymous asked: Would you fight with Marvin on though?

“Oh, of course, my darlings. That’s half the fun of it. Especially if you pick my dear Red.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Iiiii think Dap should be hypno'ed and Red to spar with? He has some pent up anger.

“Ahh,” breathes Anti, smiling wide. “Thank you, my friend. I knew someone would decide. I quite like that idea.”

Anonymous asked: Are you sure? I think seeing Carver would be interesting.

“Oh? Seeing Carver fight? We have an objection in the court. What would you all prefer? I’m quite impartial.”

spicydanhowell asked: NO DO NOT HYPNOTIZE DAP

“Oh, you don’t want your darling boy anymore confused than he already is, hm? I could do Red instead… or pit the two of them against each other…”

abirbable asked: One day you’re gonna break one or more of them beyond repair, Anti. You have NO idea what being a human is like nor the emotional trauma you’re continually causing them.

“Oh, please. You should have seen the time Doktor forgot the difference between a scalpel and a band-aid. Screaming for three days straight. Babbling in German no matter how much Trick tried to calm him down. But eventually he came back to himself. Eventually they all come back to themselves. I’ll handle it.”

Anonymous asked: Would this be Marvin’s punishment then? Getting beat to a pulp by his brothers?

“Oh, no. I have something much more important in mind. Blue will need his strength tonight. I expect we’ll be there in a few hours.”

nikkilbook asked: Carver versus you. Red’s punishment would be not being able to prevent either of his brothers from being hurt or hurting each other. Give what he risked today and why he risked it, seems like that would cut pretty deep.

“Intriguing. I like the way you think. But I can’t just let him be. He needs to be under my control one way or another - physical punishment or hypnotism.”

Anonymous asked: And one day they won’t be fixable and then you’ll be yelling at us like the whinny bitch you are. You made your bed, have fun sleeping in it.

“I will, thanks - wait a second, whinny? I think that’s a horse noise.”

spicydanhowell asked: just.... them against each other.... i know they won't kill each other..... Bupine asked: if I really, really had to choose? Pit them against each other, no hypnotism. Fair fight. Anonymous asked: Red v. Dapper? That’d be a very emotional fight.

“Ah, and now we’ve had all three options proposed! I knew you’d all make choices when it came down to it. How will we decide…?”

Interesting! I’ll make posts for each option and then compare the notes on them soon. Whichever has the most notes, I’ll write - and then, when that’s done, we’ll be at the final scene of the chapter tomorrow. Thanks, guys. Wasn’t sure you’d play along… but hey! I had to try out something new! Audience participation and all that.

Post 1: Dapper and Red should fight each other.

Post 2: Dapper should be hypnotized and Anti should fight Red.

Post 3: Red should be hypnotized and Anti should fight Dapper.

nikkilbook asked: Dap, could you do me a favor? Without touching J-happy’s skin, could you squish him as tight as you can? Like, put a bunch of pressure on his shoulders. He hasn’t had that in a while, and he’s having a really hard time right now.

Dapper and Red watch as Anti discusses with one of the cameras.

He holds in his hand a large silver knife, swinging it around with shining eyes as he demands and manipulates, searching for a decision to be made - but about what, they don’t know.

Dapper blinks over at you and then looks up at Red, seeing his big brother shaking hard, his face drawn and guilty and resigned. He has not been bandaged or cared for since last night and there is still blood on his face, deep bruises from the muzzle, and scoring cuts from the plants with which his twin’s power consumed him.

He looks so overwhelmed he could shatter. Red is an Atlas and always has been.

Dapper tugs gently on his sleeve, smiling up at him, and Red turns wearily towards him, softening a little for the look on his face. Dapper holds out his arms cautiously, beckoning for Red to let himself be held.

Red wipes at his face and sniffles. Nobody’s supposed to see him in pain. Nobody’s supposed to see him needing comfort. Least of all his youngest brother, clever, wild little Dapper. Well, not so little, really - standing beside him now, Red can see that Dapper is exactly his height.

Oh, he’s so tired.

He puts his head down on Dapper’s shoulder.

Dapper wraps his arms around him and squishes him tight, tight, tight, just like you wanted to, a string of soothing, soft, meaningless clicks chirping from his mouth, the warmest reassurance in the world.

“Okay,” says Anti, turning towards them. “Are you two ready?”

Dapper and Red should fight each other.

“Do you remember,” begins Anti, pacing towards them. “When you two used to spar all the time?”

Dapper and Red look at each other.

“I guess you probably don’t, do you, Red? And maybe Dapper, you’re a little confused.”

“No,” Dapper interrupts. “No, I remember.”

His hands are clenched into fists.

“Oh, good. Well, I love it when you do. We haven’t in a long time because first Red was rather badly off, and there was Blue to deal with, and then Dapper! You got stabbed! Wasn’t that silly! So you were on bed rest. But now - well, look at the two of you, standing tall.”

Red wipes at the blood on his cheeks, trembling. Dapper frowns and it makes his broken nose hurt.

“It’s really good practice for you both, seeing as you’re my strongest fighters and all that. My right-hand soldier, my Red, fighting like a guardian, refusing to be moved, refusing to let anything get past him, waiting for the right moment to get a good strike in. And the sly little pet that sleeps beneath my throne… my violent, dirty, sudden little fighter, Dapper who never seems to feel any pain. Of course when I let him use his powers he always crushes you into pulp, Red - he can see your every move coming. But that won’t work now… Dapper’s having a little trouble getting it up.”

Dapper’s face rushes with blush and he stares down at his feet.

“You wouldn’t cast when I told you to, would you, Dapper?”

He doesn’t have an answer.

“Why?”

“Please, master, I’m so - I don’t know what you’re talking about, I can’t - there was just fire, and I couldn’t - I don’t - I can’t find the right past and I - ”

“Shut up, shut up,” snarls Anti, annoyed. “I don’t want fucking excuses.”

He creeps forward, stepping right into Dapper’s space. For a moment, he stares at him.

“Dapper,” he murmurs, leaning down, so Blue’s mouth brushes by his ear. “Reverse this. Reverse all this and go back to before Blue gave himself up on the mountainside, and I will stop all of this, and you won’t be punished.”

Watery eyes stare up at Anti from above an open, desperate mouth. “Reverse?” stammer Dapper’s hands. “B-but I don’t… I don’t know what Blue giving himself up means?”

“Before the fire last night, Dap! Before Blue and Red snuck off up the mountainside to cast spells!”

Dapper shakes his head, choking.

“Change it back!” screams Anti, grabbing his wrists. “Change it back, I don’t care how much energy it takes! I know you’ve turned back a whole day before. I know you can! Change it back and you won’t get hurt, do you understand me? Why won’t you listen to me? Why did you suddenly disobey? Are you so out of your fucking mind that you can’t - ”

“Anti!”

A hand is suddenly clutching at Anti’s shoulder and he turns, panting, to see Red grabbing at his shirt. Pain spikes across the untreated burns that coat Blue’s chest, leaving Anti wheezing, sparks in his vision. Something is stinging throughout his whole body, like he’s gotten the wrong blood transfusion, and his hands are beginning to ache horribly, though he does not know why.

“Please,” cries Red. “Look at him. You’re going to make him snap again!”

There is a faint silver light in Dapper’s eyes and panic in his face. Anti turns to him, fear rising on the back of his neck.

“He’s lost track of the timeline. You’ve seen him do this before. If you push him past that, if you push him to reverse anyway, he won’t be able to go back safely and time will start to tear around us. Everything will blur together and we could all get lost or hurt or killed.”

“How do you know this?” whispers Anti.

For all that he’s angry at Red, the memory of Jameson’s snap is enough to halt him in his tracks.

“You were reset after that. You shouldn’t remember.”

“I don’t,” says Red faintly. “That was Blue’s speculation. He always wanted to know what you meant by a snap. He was sure it was more than a psychotic episode, or you wouldn’t talk about it the way that you do. Judging by your reaction… he was right.”

Anti turns to sneer at him, making Blue’s face ugly, and Red’s heart twists. “Fine,” he spits. “Your little baby doesn’t have to turn anything back since he can’t keep his head on straight. But you still have to have your practice for the day, my darlings.”

“Anti,” whispers Red. “Please. I don’t think you even want to do this, do you?”

“I want things to go back to the way they were!” screams Anti, backing away from him. “Just yesterday, we were so close to safety, Red! But you and Blue fucking ruined it, and Dapper refuses to fix your mistake! So, yes, I do want to see you two beating each other into the ground, like the wild, stupid animals you are. You’ll be broken in again as many times as it takes, and tonight, when I call upon you, you will fight for me.”

“I’m tired of beating my brothers around!” screams Red. “Look how scared he is, how scared he is of me! I’m done slapping them and yelling at them and grabbing them when they do something wrong! I’m - ”

“Oh, don’t fucking start,” snarls Anti. “Your stupid act.”

“No! This isn’t who I want to be anymore! I don’t want to do this!”

Anti’s voice raises in volume and pitch. “If you won’t fight the little brat, I will, and I promise you, I won’t stop til he can’t breathe through the blood in his face.”

“Please, just punish me, it’s not his fault!”

Anti stalks towards Dapper, raising the knife.

“No!” Red steps in front of him. Anti stares up at him. The hatred in his eyes - in Blue’s eyes - is so powerful Red could faint, and suddenly, all his courage is gone, and he is afraid.

“You’ll do it, then?” asks Anti coolly.

Red can feel Dapper shivering behind him.

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Over by the bench, Trick and Dok are standing so close to each other they could be Siamese, clutching Noodle between them. For a second, they look at each other, and see in the other’s eyes a question silently asked: should we do something?

But the other only answers, what can we do? What have we ever been able to do?

And they do not act.

Anti shoves Dapper towards Red and they regard each other uncertainly. In his impatience, Anti ends up striking Dapper three times on his own before Red is spurred into action, and begins to drive his little brother back, striking with sudden, harsh blows and following no matter how much Dapper tried to back away, confused and terrified. It’s a boring, aching sort of fight, and Dapper is upset and Red is hurting himself worse than he’s hurting Dapper, and then, after one badly-planned blow that ends up smashing hard against Dapper’s already blackened nose -

Dapper changes.

Red’s eyes widen as his little brother’s posture shifts entirely, his shoulders drawing back and his feet planting themselves steady on the earth, lifting him up on the pads of his feet. Suddenly Dapper’s befuddled distress looks more like a wild sort of fury.

He bares his teeth like a dog and begins forward, a hiss falling out of his mouth.

“There’s my Carver,” purrs Anti, sitting back on the park table, popping green beans into his mouth. “There’s my ferocious little pet.”

“Dapper,” calls Red, gently. “Dap, it’s okay. We’re just sparring, bud. It’s just me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hit,” snarl Carver’s hands. “Hit me. Slap. Red man. Bad.”

“Dapper - Dapper - ”

“I want my brother!” screams Carver. “I want my brother! But you are not him! You are not him! Jackie would never hit me! Anti has killed him! Anti has killed him, and you are the monster that remains!”

Carver tears forward like a jungle cat, teeth flashing.

From then on, Anti is laughing the whole fight long.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You can hear him sobbing it from the front of the car. Blood is flowing from his nose and he is curled in on himself, crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never disobey you again!”

Anti flickers through radio channels, humming.

“I was bad, I was bad, I was bad! I’m sorry!”

“Holy shit!” laughs Anti. “Are they playing this? Why? Haha, in Peru? That’s hilarious.”

‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’ blares out of the radio speaker. Anti sits back, drumming Blue’s fingers against the wheel and humming.

Behind him, Doktor and Trick are no longer sitting one on the ground and one on the seat of the car, but both curled into a single chair, hiding in each other’s arms. Noodle sits on the ground beneath them, gone silent, staring at Carver, who writhes in the other chair, screaming without sound.

He and Red are hand-cuffed together, Red’s arm reaching back from the front of the car, and Dapper’s reaching forward. Carver’s had his other hand tied down to the armrest too since he wouldn’t stop trying to lash out at himself or the twins.

“Now, Red,” purrs Anti. “You’re going to watch over Dapper really well once we get to the equator, right?”

“Yes, Anti, yes, Anti, yes, Anti, I am, I am, I am.”

Carver hisses and kicks at the seat in front of him, sobbing. He drags his hand up to draw a finger across his throat, and no one knows if he’s calling for Anti or making threats.

“You’re going to keep your little brother very safe?”

“Yes, Anti, won’t let anything happen to him, won’t go with the magicians, won’t listen to anyone but you, yes, yes, yes.”

“Dap, would you tire yourself out already back there? Goddamn. Country roads, take my home, to the place, I belong!” Anti bursts into giggles and the glitches on the radio laugh with him.

“Tomorrow all will be well,” he purrs, speaking to someone no one else can see. “Tomorrow, my darling, I will strip the magic out of your traitorous little chest in one of the most powerful places in the world, just to be sure nothing remains inside of you, and put it into my own instead. Your power will hide beneath mine and you will never be able to betray me again.”

He can hear something inside his head screaming out, just like it was while Red and Dapper fought, watching his brothers bite and strike and beat each other, until at last, Red surrendered.

“West Virginia,” sings Anti. “Mountain mama! Take me home, country roads.”

I’m going to fucking kill you one day, shouts Marvin, inside his own head. I’m going to fucking kill you for what you’ve done to my family.

Anti bursts into laughter and turns the radio up.

End Section Seven of Chapter Two.

Find the final section here.

#chapter two #runaways #abuse tw

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