#god have mercy if i ever draw hugs. i hate positioning the shoulder i hate hate hate it. 10 dead 17 injured

[puppyeared]

axolotl

#covers my face. this is dumb theyre dumb idk what was going thru my mind making this.h #i like this brush tho i think ill keep using it #i had this thought awhile ago that axolotls kind of remind me of macs ears. and i had a nice thought that if wukong ever saw one #he'd say the same thing. and thats why im sitting here with my head in my hands #macaque doesnt know if hes embarassed amused or straight up smitten. its all 3 #i have such a hard time drawing necks and shoulders.. mac is supposed to kind of hunch up his shoulders #the way some ppl do when they bow their neck down kind oflike. defensive-tucking in position when theyre making themselves small #i cant really get it to look right so it kinda looks like his head is sunken too close to his shoulders. so i guess ill keep practising #maybe if i brought his head closer to the collarbone it will look better. but i struggle with foreshortening so theres a chance itll #just look like his neck starts at the collar. ughhh #god have mercy if i ever draw hugs. i hate positioning the shoulder i hate hate hate it. 10 dead 17 injured #i have new design note ideas for em but ill post another time #myart #doodles #lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk swk #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk liu er mihou

[writing-imagines]

Truths and Tattoos // An Ellie Williams imagine

Possible warnings: blood, gun use, reader feeling guilty (?)

Request: If your requests are still open can I get Ellie from last of us with a creative and quiet s/o whos covered in tattoos everywhere but her face and palms and Ellie finds out in one way or another that her s/o is also immune to cordyceps? Maybe the reader gets bit and doesn't turn or something??

You leaned against the counter of the abandoned supermarket, your sketch book open, and revealing your newest drawing of what used to be the bakery section. Even though you hated patrol duty with a passion you loved getting to see places and drawing them. Patrol also gave you the freedom to imagine what the world used to be like before everything went to hell.

Of course, you couldn’t enjoy the imagery of people walking around, not worrying about infected, because it always caused an ache to form in your chest. While being immune to the cordyceps was a huge weight off your chest, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You had been bitten a dozen times and never even developed a fever, but the second someone inhaled spores they would be sentenced to death. It wasn’t fair and your dozens of scars and the tattoos that covered them were a constant reminder of how unfair life was.

You let out a sigh and closed your sketch book, unwilling to let your guilty thoughts interfere with work. You picked your backpack up and slid your sketchbook inside, making sure it wasn’t in a bent position. Once you threw your backpack over your shoulder, you made your way to what used to be the produce section to look for your girlfriend.

“Ellie? Where’d you go?” You called out as you rounded the corner. That section of the store was pretty dark, the only source of light came from a medium size hole in the roof. You couldn’t help but notice the debris and snow on the floor underneath the hole, you could have sworn it wasn’t there on your first sweep of the building.

“Ellie? Come on, where are you?” You called out again as you looked around the room. Normally, you would be freaked out about not being able to find your girlfriend, but you knew Ellie liked to pull pranks on you, especially when it was just the two of you on patrol.

You decided to play along with her possible prank and moved to the middle of the store. The center of the store had to be one of the creepiest places you had ever been to. Unlike the produce section, it was pitch black thanks to there being absolutely no windows. You turned on your shoulder flashlight before making your way past aisles.

“Ellie, come on. I’m getting a little tired of this.” You continued walking, an eerie feeling settling over you with each passing second. As you reached the remains of the frozen section you heard a heart stopping scream and crash. Without hesitation you quickly pulled out your pistol and aimed it in the direction of the crash, your flashlight only revealing a few feet in front of you.

“Who’s there?!” Your mind started to race as you tried to make sense of the situation. Had someone really managed to get in the store and evade you and Ellie? Another scream echoed through the empty store, causing your heart to nearly pound out of your chest. Against your better judgment you slowly started walking down the nearest aisle, trying to listen for the scream again.

When you reached the end of the aisle you pointed your gun around the corner and slowly moved out into the open. Even though your heart was racing you pushed on, fully determined to find out who managed to get past you. The blood curdling scream grew louder and louder the closer you got to the front of the store. Once you reached the remains of the checkout area you found the culprit of the scream and the cause of the crash.

Lying underneath a large metal shelf was a runner. He was desperately clawing at the floor in an attempt to escape. You felt a twinge if sadness at the sight, even though the runner could tear you to shreds. You took a few steps closer, causing the runner to swing his arms at your ankles. Once you saw he was completely stuck under the shelf you lowered your pistol.

“How the hell did you get in here?” You mumbled to yourself. The runner continued to reach for your ankles and let out a grunt. A pain formed in your chest as you continued to look at him. He was a healthy living person at one time and now he was a near mindless monster trapped under a grocery store shelf, completely at your mercy. You didn’t want to kill him, but you also couldn’t go searching for Ellie knowing he could possibly escape. With a shaky breath you aimed at his head.

“Sorry. I hope-" You were swiftly cut off by another loud scream behind you. You turned around just in time to see another runner sprinting towards you. It was only a few steps away, leaving you with no time to react. It knocked you to the ground, causing you to let go of your pistol.

All you could do was throw up your arms and scream. You couldn’t scream any words, just loud animal like howls. You fought hard to keep it’s jagged teeth away from your neck. In the midst of keeping it away from your jugular, your right hand and forearm suffered several deep bites. The runner’s teeth shredded right through your winter coat. Just as the runner bit down on your wrist, several gunshots rang out above your head, causing a loud ringing in your ears. You watched the runner fall off you before closing your eyes in pain. Not only did your arm hurt, but your ears felt like they were going to explode.

You felt two hands grab your shoulders and shake you. You forced yourself to open your eyes again. Much to your relief it was Ellie kneeling beside you and shaking your shoulders. Her lips were moving but you could only hear muffled sounds.

“Ellie.” Your eyes widened and you scrambled to hug her. She wrapped her arms around you, not caring about the uncomfortable position.

“Are you okay?” You were relieved to hear her voice instead of the ringing. Ellie pulled away from the hug and quickly looked you over. It only took a few seconds for her to notice the bite marks that pierced through your tattoos and the blood rolling down your arm.

“No, no, no, no.” She held your wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding. You looked down to see blood rolling down Ellie’s hands and pooling on the floor.

“Fuck!” Ellie let go of your arm and walked over to the fallen shelf where the runner was trapped. The runner was dead and surrounded by blood. Ellie put her hands behind her head before quickly dropping them to her sides and kicking the metal shelf.

“Ellie.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie turned to look at you, tears running down her cheeks. You forced yourself to stand up, trying to ignore the sting of the bites.

“I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, y/n. I should have been with you.” Ellie attempted to hold back her tears, but failed as they continued to stream down her face. You felt a lump form in your throat as Ellie fully broke down in front of you.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Her voice was shaky as she looked at you, her eyes locked on your wounds. You stepped towards her and cautiously held her hands.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“Your arm is covered in bite marks.” She whimpered.

“I-I’m immune. I can’t turn.” You looked down at your feet, noting a few blood droplets sat on the toes of your boots. After noticing Ellie stopped crying you looked up to see her confused expressions.

“What?”

“I’m immune. I’ve been bitten a dozen times, walked through millions of spores, and I’m still alive.” Ellie’s jaw dropped a little and her eyes widened. If it would have been any other situation you would have laughed.

“Oh my God.” She looked at all your tattoos, slowly putting the pieces together. You nervously bit your bottom lip, silently hoping your confession wouldn’t change things between you two.

“I should have told you sooner, but this isn’t exactly something I can just drop on someone and hope they can keep it a secret.” Ellie didn’t respond, instead she looked at you with a bewildered expression. After a few seconds of silence you spoke again.

“Please say something...” Ellie allowed herself to blink, somewhat pulling her out of her daze. She looked down at the ground, letting out a sigh before looking at you again.

“I’m immune too.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend and let go of her hands.

“W-What?”

“I was bitten by an infected when I was fourteen and I didn’t turn.” Ellie frowned and rubbed her tattoo, making you connect the dots in your head.

“Holy shit. We’re both immune.”

“We’re both immune.” She mumbled, holding her tattooed wrist close to her body. You could feel her change in demeanor, but didn’t think much of it. Ellie always acted weird after revealing personal stuff.

“This is great, right? Since we’re both immune that means we could find a cure and-”

“There is no cure.” Ellie mumbled before taking a small step away from you. You frowned at her response.

“How do you know?”

“Because-” Ellie stopped herself to find her words. You watched as she nervously twiddled her fingers.

“Joel brought me to the Fireflies. They did a lot of tests and there’s no cure.” Ellie let out a sigh and glanced at the ground. You frowned, mainly out of disappointment that there was no cure, but also because she had never mentioned Joel taking her to the Fireflies.

“Oh...you never told me that.” You said with a shrug.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you because of...you know.” Ellie ran her fingers over the raised skin on her wrist.

“There’s some stuff I haven’t told you either.” You shrugged again, this time putting your hands in your coat pockets. Ellie looked up from her wrist and looked you in the eye.

“I guess we have some talking to do then.” Ellie said, the faintest smile tugging at her lips.

“I guess we do.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that crept up once you saw Ellie’s smile.

“Come on, let’s get you patched up and back to Jackson.” Ellie walked over to you and protectively wrapped her arm around your shoulders. You leaned into her side as the two of you made your way back to the horses.

“Hey Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for saving me.”

“You can thank me later by washing my clothes. These are my favorite jeans and they’re covered in blood.” Ellie smirked and you elbowed her in the side, eliciting an exaggerated groan.

The rest of your journey home in silence. You knew Ellie was probably thinking of how she was going to break the news to Joel that she told someone else she was infected. Joel loved you so it probably wasn’t going to be a big deal. All you could think about was how you weren’t alone in the world anymore and how happy that made you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x gender neutral reader #ellie williams x male reader #the last of us imagine #ellie williams imagine #the last of us #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part 2 imagine

[tu-mint]

Amendment

A/N: Sooo I’ve been meaning to share my Mortal Kombat stuff on here for a while, I wanted to wait for the movie to come out first 😅🤣

TW: mentions of torture & sexual assault

In which Shang Tsung and the Black Dragon are officially put down and Earthrealm's defenders are able to return home, but Raelynn is stuck in her thoughts, but one of the young Kombatants is able to help her reconsider the negativity in her mind. (Based around MK11 & Aftermath but w/ a twist?)

Raelynn knew this all too well. With her entity as a half god, a change in time would do nothing to erase the horrifying memory in her mind back in the Black Dragon's dungeon -- at least, that's what it felt like. Hours upon hours of nothing but brutal beatings, each kick, punch, and swing as harsh as the last. While it wouldn't have hurt too much being that she was stronger than the average mortal, the bindings fused with the dark power of Shinnok's amulet extracted much of her godlike strength and left her as a helpless bait to be shredded and mauled at by the jaws of vicious and starved predators, desperate to take a leap at the prey before them. It still seemed unbelievable how she was alive even after all the bruises and cuts and blood...but she managed. After all, those shallow wounds were all but nothing comapred to--

The demigoddess shivered involuntarily and inhaled sharply. Thankfully, everyone aboard was too immersed in their own activities to notice her sudden actions, but she knew she wasn't stable enough with where her thoughts were treading. Her eyes searched for her son who was currently speaking in a group of the younger Kombatants. A yellow strip of cloth with an intricate design she couldn't make out was fastened around his bicep, and she wondered where it had come from until her eyes peered at the young male he stood beside. Takeda, son to Kenshi and pupil under Grandmaster Hasashi, was missing the usual yellow band that adorned his head as a reminder to those that he was a member of the Shirai Ryu clan. His short onyx locks blew freely but he didn't seem to mind all that much, instead grinning down at Haru who wore the cloth proudly. Cassie and Jacqui mirrored the telepath's reaction, the blonde pulling out her phone and snapping a picture. The sight warmed her heart and she was thankful the young fighters didn't look upon her son with irritation, but rather genuine care and happiness. When Haru had told her of the adventures and stories spent with them, a pang of guilt struck her for the early misjudgement on her part, believing they were just frivolous juveniles that only gained their high positions due to the status of their families.

Wishing not to allow her brooding to draw unwanted attention, Raelynn slipped silently to the back of the ship. Her efforts did not go unnoticed by Raiden who stood near the hull of the ship, but he decided against speaking with her in that moment.

He recalled the time he had found her, bound like a dog and covered in welts and lacerations big and small. She was curled into a ball, shaking and burying her face into her knees. It was then Raiden became aware of the state of her clothing, torn and barely covering her form as if someone intentionally ripped and pulled at it to expose more of her. Immediately he slipped out of his own robe and pulled it across her trembling form, respectfully averting his eyes. As he helped Raelynn stand to her feet, his eyes widened as countless more bruises and marks made themselves visible, tiny splotches of smooth brown skin barely surviving. These people had clearly put her through a very long, thorough beating, and it was evident that they were in no means hoping to show mercy. No, they wanted her dead. Raiden had teleported into the SF ship and rushed her to the infirmary room. People cleared the way immediately and knew better than to question his sudden appearance as he brushed past them while carrying the barely conscious woman to a bed near the back. He knew the Kombatants would be able to handle themselves well, so he stayed and began the healing process.

It was during this time he realized that Raelynn was no mere mortal, but a half god created by the hands of Cetrion. While it was difficult at first for him to fully trust her said intentions due to her creator's betrayal upon the Elder Gods, he had seen her heart's purity during the mission. The thunder god knew that she was making the best of efforts to redeem herself of past mistakes, and Liu Kang recognized this as well. A twinge of concern fell upon him just then as he knew that she still had much she needed to recover from. Whether she would eventually open up to him or not didn't matter, he would be patient and assist her as best as he could.

Raelynn took a seat upon the thick wooden rail and swung her legs over to face the bloody depths of Netherrealm's ocean. She wasn't afraid of falling nor coming across any odd sea creatures knowing that she had flying abilities, but of course she also wasn't dumb enough to try and test her strength or reflexes. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she looked on at the overlapping waves, allowing her mind to space out and roam. Her fingers tapped on the rail in a rhythmic pattern, and she suddenly was reminded of something. Her hands came together and moved in a circular motion, stretching further until the form of her solar powers had become a guitar. She clutched the neck and hugged the body of the instrument under her other arm smiling to herself.

Upon visiting the islands of the Pacific in the past, she had learned about the aspect of music through vocals and tools that produced a pleasant audio. The demigoddess found that these brought her a sense of peace and tranquility, and immediately she wanted to learn the ways of this fascinating revelation. What came as an interest to her in the beauty of music was the endless techniques for a new sound, new sensations, new reactions, and day by day, there was always the creation or discovery of another. She allowed her fingers to delicately pluck and strum a mix of chords, a tingle settling in her chest at the euphoria beginning to wash over her. Her hands moved on their own accord, finding a steady tempo and following a pattern with an occasional switch. The nerves that built up in the pit of her stomach had eventually disappeared into wisps of nothingness. Her eyes began to slowly close and she hummed quietly wanting no attention to be drawn to the back of the ship. It seemed to work decently, until-

"Wow, you're part god and a singer? Gotta say I'm definitely jealous."

The woman’s fingers froze in place already in position to strum a new chord. She craned her neck just enough to glance over her shoulder at the intruder, already knowing it who it was. “My life is nothing to be envious of, Specialist Briggs.”

Raelynn heard footsteps tread closer and tapped on her guitar. The younger woman climbed onto the rail and threw a leg over the other. They sat for a moment in silence, staring off at the deep scarlet waters swishing and rolling about. “I owe you an apology, Specialist.”

Jacqui’s eyebrow quirked and her eyes fell upon the half god. Raelynn took her silence as a sign to continue. “I apologize for my behavior towards you and your friends throughout most of the mission. Even after I had caused harm upon your lives and nearly killed your fiancé, you still ensured trust in me. That I could never understand, but-"

"It wasn't easy." The half goddess shifted her attention to the soldier. Her face was impassive as she watched the waves. Raelynn couldn't tell if her expression was a good or bad thing, but she decided against trying to get her hopes up. A great deal (if not all) of her acts under Cetrion were cruel and groundless, and she held no anguish up until the time she had to come face to face with the truth of her doings. It tore her day and night, and meeting Hajoon had her convinced that she would be able to leave the life of corruption far behind and start fresh. Of course, the facts couldn't be hidden forever, and the half goddess found herself back in the deep hole of falsehood, surrounded with nothing but fabricated offers to a better life. She scoffed mentally. That opportunity was officially closed off to her. It seemed as though disaster was always a few steps away, eager to ruin her chances at something sound, and risking it a third time was nowhere near appealing.

"There were many instances where I questioned why the Chosen One defended you to such an extent, especially after it was SF that provided for your recovery." Jacqui's voice had brought her out of her thoughts. "Trust me, I was beyond ready to blast a hole or two through your head a hell lot of times." She paused. "But spending time with Haru and hearing your whole deal...I understood you." Raelynn's brows raised slightly, not expecting such a considerate response.

"I couldn't imagine a life finding out that the one who was supposed to be my caretaker, my protector, my safe haven, was actually the one who robbed me of all that. My mother..." Her words trailed off and she peered down into her lap. She tightened her jaw and bit her lip to keep from releasing the tears awaiting just behind her eyes. Raelynn almost reached her hand out in an effort of comfort but stopped, not wanting to ruin the intimacy in the moment. Jacqui lifted her head and continued. "Man, it would kill me if she'd ever done something like that...growing up believing that everything was all good and sweet, and everyone just hated her for doing what I thought was the right thing, thinkin' it was my own folks who were the crooks trynna steal me away and take my power from me..." She scoffed. "Seein' my dad as a revenant then manipulated by Kronika was betrayal enough, and it hurt like hell. Point is, I realized that you truly had no malice in you. You were just takin' orders and tryin' to keep your mother—uh, Cetrion, happy."

And it was true. Raelynn trusted completely in the virtue goddess as any child would their guardian. She worked vigorously in carrying out the Elder Goddess' wishes, longing to eventually gain any sort of praise or affection, but it was rare that those occurrences came to past. Most of her upbringing revolved around unanswered questions and the constant urge to do better, trying at all costs to win approval. But like a fool, she allowed her heart to get the best of her, put her through the worst of hells just to seek out a foolish desire that would never be anything close to genuine. That's what messed her up in the first place, and she couldn't—no, would not dare to do something as stupid as that again. It was only her and Haru. Nobody else.

"I am...appreciative of your understanding, Ms. Briggs," Raelynn spoke after a long moment of silence. "You and your comrades are owed a huge debt on my behalf."

Jacqui chuckled and shook her head, then turned to look at the demigoddess. "You're damn right we are!" The two women shared a laugh on the rail. "Actually, I believe there is a way to pay back this debt."

"How so?"

"Well, Takeda and I's wedding was put on pause due to this whole mission, and it cost a lot to find decent live music. Cassie offered, but we're trying to have a simple proper wedding, not a drunk karaoke session. And you have the voice of an angel—well, a god in your case. If you can strum a few chords and sing a few notes for a few hours, I'll consider you free of deficit."

Raelynn cocked her head and raised a brow. "That's...that's all?" She figured the woman would request of something more extravagant, like a prolonged lifespan or giving her supernatural abilities. Jaqui nodded and crossed her arms awaiting an answer.

"I...very well, Ms. Br-"

"Jacqui. That formality stuff is weird if it's not comin' from General Blade." The demigoddess was taken by surprise again. She gave a single nod and looked on at the waves which now fell into to a more mellow and calm pattern.

Perhaps it wasn't just Haru and her against the world. Every person aboard had their story, their differences, their fall outs, but they were able to cast it all aside at an effort for peace upon a world that did almost nothing for them in return. Some aspects of the Earthrealm were odd, she thought. It was going to take a lot of time to get used to these people, but maybe, just maybe...

There was a sense of hope.

#oc #mk oc #mortal kombat oc #raelynn #neoma #demigod #demigoddess #mortal kombat #mk #jacqui briggs #liu kang #kitana #raiden #sonya blade #johnny cage #jax briggs #kenshi #sub zero #kuai liang #scorpion #hanzo hasashi #cassie cage #kung jin #takeda takahashi #angst #comfort #mentions of torture #hurt #encouragement #this is honestly kind of an intro to my character

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg] 

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,” Han Hyunjae says all in a rush. 

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn​ for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him. 

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

#star.txt #work: yesterday will be kinder #writing commentary #my writing #making impulse decisions today. very tired. godonight i hope you enjoy but also you'll have to enjoy without me

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Nine : The Separated Twins

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Trigger warnings for physical and emotional abuse, hallucinations, and panic attacks.

On one side of the world, Henrik is exploring what it would mean to be free of Anti – what it would be to fight. On the other, Trick does something harmless that ends with him being punished and then even deeper under Anti’s hypnosis.

The Separated Twins

Anonymous asked: I believe in you. I believe in all of you that you can help Trick see that Anti isn't good for any of you and that he should not settle for the constant abuse he suffers under him just for the occasional glimpses of affection and attention. Please Blue... You and the others have to show him, show Trick that love shouldn't be painful. It should be warm, healing, and brings you up rather than down. -🦀

“Yeah,” murmurs Blue. “Yeah, I’d like for him to know that.”

He’s lying in his and Trick’s room, picking dully at Trick’s Switch, Noodle cautiously set at the end of the mattress beside him. He looks a little better than when you last saw him a couple days ago, but he’s still so worn. At least he’s wrapped up in Trick’s warm nest and wearing comfy old clothes.

“He deserves better,” he says. “I don’t know how to show him. But I’ll love him as hard as I can, damn sure… all of them. I miss the others.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, maybe if you would treat your brothers like actual brothers and go to them for comfort instead of to beat them, maybe you wouldn't be such a miserable piece of shit. Ever think of that? Mindboggling, I know.

Anti breathes out a long sigh through his nose.

He’s moving around his room, his form shifting slower than you’ve ever seen it shift before, gradually making himself look more like Red. Flowers flicker and then die around his feet. He stretches and the flame of a candle breathes hotly towards the ceiling before settling down again. His body flickers moment to moment. His room is cleaner than it was before, much of the blood stained disappeared or hidden in the brown of the carpet, but printed pictures are beginning to take up the space on his wall.

“You’re all cliches of each other,” he says finally, voice thin and irritated. His eyes, when he turns to you, are vivid blue beneath glasses that look like Dok’s. “Nothing you have said has ever convinced me, spectators. Try to be a little more entertaining. I could turn you off again at any time.”

aether-mae asked: Hey Jackie, now that you’ve got max with you to help you out, I was wondering if u were still thinking of heading back to Peru to find Doc?

Ro and JJ are still with Max two days later.

Ro is wearing his new blue hoodie. He is clean. His cheeks have more color and there’s even a bit of sun in his face. He smells like honeydew soap because he’s been having a hot shower every day. He’s shaved.

He’s cut his hair too. Just a little. There’s no more dye in his hair. It’s his hair. He cut it. Well, with Dapper’s help. And some enthusiastic compliments from Max to boost his confidence.

He looks good.

Max is on the bed with Dapper, a stack of playing cards on the sheets between them.

“Okay, then I - do I need the joker? Mate, have mercy on me, you’re signing too fast. Hey! I’m a perfectly capable learner, I’ll have you know. Fine then, wait til I kick your ass at this. Oh, what, does that mean I lost? Shit. You rigged this. Next round I got you.”

Ro laughs and comes to sit beside them. Max pauses for a moment to grin at him before going back to his card game.

“Hey,” says Red after a little while.

“Yeah?”

“I checked with Dapper last night,” says Ro. “I was wondering if your offer to take us back to Dok in Peru still stands.”

Max looks up at Ro, smiling. Dapper gives him a fair chance and then steals all his cards.

“Wh - JJ!”

“Careful, he’s merciless.”

“No joke. Deal me another round. Really, though, Ro? You’d let me drive you? We can get another hotel tonight and be there in a couple days. I’d about die to see Henrik again.”

Red nods, smiling back at him. “Yeah, I mean it. We want our Dok back. Need to see my little brother. We might not have the others right now, but we’ll figure it out once we’ve got… Henrik.”

“Jackie,” says Max, clapping his hands together. “This is the best news. I’d love to. Can’t wait to see you fidget like a maniac through hours of car time.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t remind me.”

“Hahaha. Okay, yeah! Let’s head out tomorrow first thing, then! We’ll get a rental car if we can find one or start on the bus. Have to get you lots of snacks and entertainment, I know. There was this one time you and I were on a trip and by the end of it you were just about upside down in your seat. We were visiting Ireland so you could show me some of your home…”

Max and Dapper play cards. Max talks, loud and earnest and comforting. A friend. A friend who isn’t his family, a friend who wasn’t ordered to look after him by Anti. Just somebody who likes Jackie for Jackie.

Jackie sits on the bed and listens to Max talk for hours. Tomorrow, they’ll head back towards Lima.

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti what's those pictures in your room?

Anti pauses, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t bother to move you from position, letting you get a look at the pictures. They’re of his brothers. No, wait - just Doktor and Red and Dapper.

There’s one where Dapper has Red over his shoulder, leading him up towards the house in Peru, where Doktor is waiting to look after him. There’s one of Doktor and Dapper asleep side by side on their mattress. There’s one of Dapper staring out a window in Norway towards the glowing lights in the sky, one of Red hiking proudly up the mountain, one of Doktor staring placidly up at Anti, slicked entirely in blood and still holding a scalpel. All of them take place from the eye of a camera. Dok petting Noodle, Trick’s shoes just visible in the corner of the shot. Dapper looking sweet in his blankets and over-sized hoodie, hugging his bear to his chest. Red like a statue in motion, wielding his fighting staff, younger than you’ve seen him since Dapper sent him to the past. Rows and rows of pictures of them.

Anti shifts unhappily around his room, his body changing slightly, slightly. His hair curls up and tinges teal at the fringe, and he runs his fingers through his own hair like he’s petting himself.

Anonymous asked: How did you get all those pictures? Do you like take snapshots with your mind or something? Or did you have an actual camera?

“What’s the difference?” he grumbles. “I’m basically a walking hard drive. With a taste for blood. And, uh. I don’t know. Sentience. Hair. A couple too many teeth. I can go back and watch anything my cameras have recorded whenever I want. Printing them out is just moving data.”

He throws a knife at the wall, burying it just above one of Dapper’s teddies on a dresser.

spicydanhowell asked: seems like you really miss them, hm anti?

“Well, they’re mine, and I’m fucking pissed they’re gone, yeah!” He buries another knife on the teddy’s outline. “The only thing I know is that they’re fucking alive and probably not in jail. But I’ll have them back soon. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. Trick’s such a little sycophant he almost makes up for the others being gone. He’ll be home soon and then I can have some goddamn rest. This is some bullshit. Tell God I want a fucking refund.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Wow, Anti. You actually miss your pets? Or do you really consider them your brothers?

“Family is a construct,” growls Anti, picking up the bear in his hands. “Dapper is a warm body. Doktor is an immune system. Red is a guard dog.”

He sighs and throws it aside.

“Fucked up, though. Used to hate how loud Red would be through the walls. Now I kind of want to hear him. What a little brat. Can’t believe he was separated from me. Bulletproof vest. Locked door. Guard dog. Safety.”

Anti puts his hands in his red hair.

Anonymous asked: Where's trick? Is he alright?

“Trick went to get some dinner and some books at the library,” Blue answers you, smiling faintly. “He really likes being allowed have some freedom. Just a bus ride and a couple errands, but he gets all proud, like he’s my breadwinner, taking care of me, haha. I love him. He’s mostly alright, but, uh. I have been noticing him acting strange.”

Blue draws his eyes away from the cartoon animal game he’s playing on Trick’s switch for a moment. “Something wrong in his head, I… I don’t know. He reacts strangely when I ask about Dok. I’m scared. I think it’s a trauma thing. He seems so spacey all the time. But he’s happy, I think? For the most part? Every now and then I wake up to him crying next to me, clutching at me, but who can blame him for that? I think I’d be more scared if he wasn’t upset that Dok was gone at all, which is… how he acts during the day. But yeah, I think he’s as okay as I could expect him to be, mostly. He plays this little thing constantly.”

Blue shakes the Switch at you for a second and the screen blacks out. Blue jolts, lifting his fingers away to see if he accidentally hit the power button.

“That’s not yours to play with,” comes a cool voice from his doorway.

Blue jumps and drops the Switch, letting out a hissing sigh through his teeth, annoyed and afraid, as he can’t help but be every time he’s in Anti’s presence these days. Every time he hears him, sees him, smells his oil smell or feels his electric sting, he is back on a Norweigan beach he barely remembers, back on the Rio Puturnayo, back in a hospital room, huddled on the floor as the blows rain down.

“Fuck off, Anti,” he spits.

Anti’s mouth curls with a snarl at him. “Poor little kitten,” he coos. “Poor stupid boy.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” says Blue.

“Or maybe I just don’t care,” answers Anti, slinking back into the living room, his eyes still on Blue as they both wait for Trick to get home.

bupine asked: why no pictures of trick or blue, anti? are you missing your boys? also, you seem to be having trouble keeping a stable form. any idea why that is?

“I have Trick and Blue,” grumbles Anti, throwing a hand up. “Don’t need to see them. Know where they are. Know that they’re safe. And I’m not - shut up!”

He glares down at his own body, flickering and flashing.

“I always glitch, that’s - I have a brand, goddammit! It’s this flesh that’s fucking horrible, I - motherfuck.”

He hisses and buries his claws in his own right arm, watching blood well up against the flesh for a second. Then the arm flickers back into incorporeality and the blood trickles onto the floor. He growls, yanking on his hair for a second, trying to keep calm.

“So infuriating,” he snarls. “I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been, but my own body rebels. Stupid fuck. Symbolic, probably, don’t you think? Even my own flesh knows I didn’t grow it myself.”

He barks out an odd laugh, shape-shifting again, that subtle, slow, constant switch. Just reassuring himself, with every moment that passes, that he can still do it. That he can still become data, immerse himself in code, travel by electricity. It’s just getting harder, that’s all.

And he is powerful. This, at least, is true. The windows of the house are blooming with flowers. The candles were Trick’s idea. Dozens of them lined around the house, constantly burning. A chance for his power to express itself instead of devouring him.

Anonymous asked: How are you feeling, Blue? It’s good to see you again!

“Thank you,” says Blue, cooling a little as Anti walks away, pulling you back to him and flopping back on the bed. “I’m feeling, well. I’ve kind of gone stagnant? Like the last couple days, I feel okay, but I’ve stopped… getting better, sort of. Just tired and kind of achey and, well, frail. Having bad headaches too, and I still, uh.”

He touches his foggy eyes.

“Tried glasses,” he says quietly. “Big thick prescription glasses. Trick called me Monty Mole for two hours without fail. But they don’t cut through much of anything. The world is a permanent blur, ha… but you know what! Otherwise, I’m okay. Just been resting. This asshole hasn’t bothered me too much.”

He lets his hand flail towards Anti irritably.

“Oh, and guess what?”

He smiles winningly at you and then -

He pushes himself to his feet without help! All the way from sitting on the mattress on the floor to standing upright.

“Tada! Thank you, thank you, that’s right, I’m Blue the Magnificent, I’ll be here all week! Oh - shit!”

He crashes back towards the wall, laughing a little from the surprise and the slight embarrassment, though he still looks pleased with himself. He snatches up a cane that’s leaning on a windowsill and steadies himself on it, smiling at you.

“Tada,” he repeats warmly, standing upright.

“Meow,” cheers Noodle.

“Thank you, my dear.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is Noodle keeping you good company, Blue?

“Well,” sighs Blue. “The truth is I’m not really fond of cats.”

He stares down at Noodle and Noodle stares back at him.

“But after a bit of that hospital breakdown you saw, I know that Anti made me stop being fond of cats,” he adds softly. “And… killed mine.”

Noodle mewls softly, stepping forward to weave between his legs.

“So I’m trying to get used to him again!” says Blue, trying to find his cheerful voice. “Because I did like cats, I did! I don’t know what else he changed about my mind when he first took it over, but I want it back. And Anti can try to destroy me but I will keep fighting against it, even if only in these little ways.”

He summons his determination and leans down. Noodle bursts into throaty purring as Blue’s soft fingers scratch across his skull and golden kitten ears.

Anonymous asked: Hey any progress is good progress babey!! You’re doing so well! Very proud, so yes, cheers all around for Blue the Magnificent!

“I know, haha, thank you, yeah! I’m excited, I am! Like, it’s such a small step, but it’s a step, you know? It’s nice being able to get to the bathroom on my own and stuff like that. Honestly, when you’re really sick, it’s the small things that can be really demoralizing. Not that there was anything to be ashamed of! But it… felt like there was. Especially with how helpless I know I am in front of him.”

He glances over at Anti sitting in the den and he straightens his back fiercely, standing on that cane. He did good. He has to keep believing in himself. He’s making progress and Anti can’t stop him fighting.

Anonymous asked: HmmMMMM Anti it looks like your emotions are bleeding though a little bit....y’know cuz red is- yeah anyways, where did Chaser go?

“Great, great,” snaps Anti. “Yeah, I get it, betrayal of the flesh, blah blah. You know what, I already look fucking indistinguishable to the person I hate most in the world, so maybe destiny could just call that fucking good, but no, let’s add on to the discomfort of looking in a mirror.”

He kicks the stairs in the den space just for the hell of it. Stupid tangible feet.

“Not even my face,” he whispers, low and bitter. “He lives in the curves of me, in the cut of my jaw, in the way my eyes move. No matter how much I try to shape-shift. I wake up every morning looking just like him - but not like him - all over again. Bullshit. Made me a copycat and a fake at the same time. Bullshit.”

He heaves out a sigh, his black eyes stormy.

Laughter from the street interrupts his mood and he sits up a little, his face calming. He can hear Trick. Good, Anti’s sick of feeling alone. He gets up and looks through the window above the kitchen sink.

Trick must still be coming down the pavement because he can hear him talking and laughing, but he can’t see him. Who the hell is he talking to? Himself? Did his little mind finally snap? Is Anti going to have to burrow into his fleshy little head yet again?

“I’m telling you, I do like them!” he hears Trick laughing. “I do, I’m not lying, haha! It’s just I think the satay noodles are my favorite. But all the shit you guys cook is amazing, seriously. Yeah, I - no, I don’t think I have! Oh! Maybe I can try it tomorrow. Will you be there again?”

Anti stands back on his heels, frowning. His form flickers darkly.

Anonymous asked: We’re really proud of you, Blue. Really. You’ve been so strong though all of this. I’d be squishing you in a big hug rn if I could! Keep doing what you’re doing, be independent and don’t let no bitch tell you what you can’t and can do! You’ve got this :)

“Don’t let no bitch - haha, okay, thank you.” Blue laughs and sits down on the sill of his window, letting his head rest against the glass. “Hey, tell Trick to hurry up with dinner. That’ll be the real celebration. I love the hawker food he keeps bringing me. Glad I can eat for real, even if this is a little annoying.”

He takes the nasal cannula out of his nose in preparation for dinner. He’s getting better at breathing without it, even planning to try to sleep through a night without it soon. His lungs are recovering from the smoke and the burning. He breathes in deeply against the cool glass, his eyes noticing something out near the front of the house he’s never seen before, a colorful mess of cloth. Someone must have left it behind on the rusted old pole of metal that used to hold a hummingbird feeder or something. Weird.

Anonymous asked: Hey, trick! Whatcha up to?

Anti steps slightly back from the kitchen window and let his mind flood into the camera Trick carries with him.

Clothes shuffle and move around the screen. If you had to guess you would say Trick’s probably shoved the little camera in his hoodie pocket. From that one circle of light in the side of the pocket, you can see white hands with long red nails, and you can hear her tittering laugh over the sound of Trick’s almost breathless, enthusiastic talking.

“Dude, no! I’m telling you, these are for my nerd brother.”

“You’re sure? You’re sure? You’re not a secret professor of poetry, Connor?”

“Fucking look at me, do I look like a professor of anything?”

“Uh… skate-boarding?”

“Skate - ” He cuts himself off with a laugh and they both dissolve into giggles. Her hand brushes over his as they both gesticulate.

“Maybe weed?”

“I could be a professor of that, okay, you’re right. How about Minecraft?”

“Yeah, professor of Minecraft, I can see it. Kittens?”

“Now you’re just flattering me. I do love my kitten. Converse?”

“Noodle-eating?”

“Super Smash Bros.”

“America.”

“Just the whole of - hahaha!”

And they’re laughing together, there on the pavement just out of Anti’s sight as the sun glows red and pink over them. They’re laughing together and holding poetry books they picked out together at the library and take-out boxes full of hawker stand noodles and you know it’s Xin Yi, you know it is, and when there’s a soft silence and you can hear the both of them pause and look and breathe - well, then you know that he’s leaned in to press his chapped and loving mouth to her soft cheek, and that’s she smiling, and so is he.

Anti steps back again from the window.

He can hear the blood pumping loud, loud, loud through his head.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick! Trick! Be careful!

Trick’s still got his camera turned off.

The message goes to Blue.

You see his eyes flicker and his pupils shrink. His hands grip down tight around you.

“What?” he stammers. “What did Trick do?”

He’s on his shaky, shaky feet before you can answer. Staggering out into the den, using his cane, his oxygen strapped to his back. Trick. He has to protect Trick. That is all that matters.

“Trick?” he calls. “Amata?”

But there’s just Anti in the kitchen.

Still as can be.

The floorboards beneath his feet have burned down to the earth below.

Smoldering still.

Anonymous asked: Wait Anti don't punish Trick please! You know that he'd never leave you or doubt you or anything like that. For god's sake, he attached the collar that's traumatized him so much for you and never left your side these past days and helped you ground yourself and did those little things like the candles around the house for you. He's utterly loyal to you and he's undeniably yours, please Anti. Don't punish him for this.

“You can’t hurt him,” says Blue, over the soft hiss of the floorboards burning.

Anti doesn’t move.

“He loves you,” says Blue, louder. “Maybe more than anyone ever has. He’d do anything to make you happy. It’s horrible, but it’s true. He loves you or he thinks he does. Deeply, deeply. You can’t hurt him. They’re right. He’s done everything for you. He’d give you anything. Utterly loyal, undeniably yours. Maybe the last one of us who is. You can’t punish him for this. Just tell him no and he won’t - whatever he did, he’ll stop.”

Trick is coming up towards the door.

Anti stares at him, his eyes flickering. Black, brown, red, green, blue, white.

“Anti,” says Blue.

He is begging.

“Anti.”

spicydanhowell asked: you fucking did this though. in another world, if you were kind to them, they could have been a happy little brainwashed following for you. but you're not even kind enough to be a good tyrant... that's interesting.... you Drove them Away. they don't love you anymore. none of them

Anti can hear the words pounding through his own head.

You drove them away.

They don’t love you anymore.

None of them.

Anti has hurt, and hurt, and hurt, and hurt them.

He knows that.

But he always thought he would be enough to make it not matter.

He always thought he would be enough if he just tried.

Dapper is gone. Red’s not there to make him feel safe. Dok’s not there to help him if he’s hurt. Blue doesn’t want him. And all Anti has had for almost two weeks now is Trick.

Warm, loving Trick. The collar wrapped around his throat. His fierce blue eyes.

Anti thought he had been good to him. Kind to him. Warm to him.

And he still isn’t… he still can’t be… Trick still wants…

“Hey, Blue?” he says.

“What?”

“Why am I not angry?”

“You - are you not?”

He is paralyzed. Impaled. Petrified like a fossil.

“My chest hurts,” he says, and he leans over the silver sink of the unused home and vomits blood like a mortal.

Anonymous asked: You know he'd burn down the world for you if you asked him, would stay by your side even if you're burning in hell or lashing out at him. As Blue said, just order him or tell him that he can't do this ever again and he'll do it within a heartbeat. Please, Anti...

“Awww,” says Blue, and you can hear the cold sneer of his mouth even before you can see it. He moves on his shuddering legs to stand behind Anti, close enough that he can feel the burn of his own magic dammed up too powerfully in Anti’s chest. “Poor thing. Is my stolen magic making the little demon sick? Are you such a little virgin you get jealous of a single kiss on her cheek? What exactly are you compensating for that you can’t bear to see your fucking brother find a cute girl to hold hands with? Does that sting, Anti? Does it burn? Imagine if someone told you to hold that much power in for weeks… and weeks… and weeks… and then, after you lost control after all that obedience, they possessed you, cut you open, stole your soul, and blamed you for it. Would that hurt, do you think, little demon? Does it burn, Anti, does my magic burn?”

Anti turns like a snake striking to spit blood into Blue’s face, grabbing him by the throat and sending him crashing to the ground.

“Trick is the only one left who loves you,” cries Blue even as he scrambles away, his blue eyes flashing, his chest heaving for air. “Trick is probably the only person in the world who cares about you at all, and you’re going to hurt him because he blushed over a girl who showed him kindness? No wonder you’re so fucking miserable, you snake-faced son of a bitch. You need control so badly that you can’t even consider that we could ever love anyone other than you. How do you bear the twin system, anyway?”

“I’m the one who makes you love your twins,” hisses Anti, blood sliding out of his mouth. “You and Red could barely stand to look at each other before I wiped your minds clean.”

A burst of pain slams against Blue’s chest. “That’s not true!”

“Trust me, darling, it is, you can ask them. Red was baring his teeth at you, didn’t trust you, didn’t want you there. Then I swept it all away and told him to love you and he woke up not even knowing why he felt so fond of you. That’s what your whole relationship is based on. Just like your dislike of cats, Blue. I choose everything about who you are and you don’t even realize it.”

“Shut up!” screams Blue. “You’re a liar!”

“You’ll never be free of me. None of you will. This - this is the last straw, this and your traitorous brothers hiding away in South America. I won’t take any more of this. I will destroy this girl. Not just her but the warmth of her, the meaning of her, the need for her. Trick won’t even want anyone but me and the people I choose for him when this is over.”

“Guys?” squeaks a terrified voice at the door. “Wh - wh - what’s - ? Anti? Blue? Are you hurting each other?”

“Your fucking brother is losing his mind,” chokes Anti, turning to vomit over the sink again, fire licking across his teeth. “Shouting at me while I’m ill.”

“Don’t listen to him, Trick, he wants to hurt you for kissing that girl!”

Trick stares between the two of them, utterly flummoxed. Anti sets his gaze on him and a sudden terror rushes into his bones.

“A - Anti? Big brother?”

spicydanhowell asked: trick... sir... anti's gonna be mad at you for this???

“But - but - no,” stammers Trick, holding out his hands, confused, bewildered, terrified. “Anti, I… you’ve been so nice to me. You wouldn’t hurt me just for - she’s so nice, Anti, why can’t I - ?”

Anti’s hand draws back to strike him and Trick cowers and the blow -

The blow -

“Trick,” hisses Anti. Chokes Anti. Stammers Anti. “What - why would you - I don’t understand?”

“Anti,” says Trick, and then he starts laughing.

Anti stares at him, eyes huge. He looks down at Blue and Blue stares back at him, shaking his head.

“Anti!” Trick repeats, and grabs his shoulders. “Man, come on, what the hell!”

“Don’t laugh at me, you little brat!”

But he is, he’s laughing, and smiling at Anti, and holding his shoulders, and hugging him. “You’re so - oh, fuck’s sake, Anti. Are you jealous I kissed a girl?”

“No!”

“If you need help with girls, I could - ”

“I don’t care about girls, Trick!”

“Oh, well then maybe Blue or Red would be more help in that department, but - ”

“I’m angry at you!”

“But you wouldn’t hurt me,” says Trick softly, still smiling. “You would never hurt me.”

Blue stares up at Trick.

And he can see - oh, fuck, he can see the glaze of the hypnotism over his eyes. He can see the influence.

Trick can’t even comprehend it right now, that Anti would hurt him. Trick probably didn’t think twice about bringing Xin Yi back here.

Because Anti is his family and Anti loves him and Anti wouldn’t hurt him over a kiss on the cheek.

Right?

“Trick,” he hears himself whisper. “My little brother.”

How many times has Anti wormed inside his head today alone? How many of his thoughts are turned back towards him? How much of Trick is even still in there?

“You… didn’t even think about it, did you?” says Anti, very quiet. “How I would react to this.”

“No, I did! I want to tell you all about her, she’s so cool! Anti, she’s super cute, did you see her? And hey, I think they might have a brother, I could - ”

“Stop,” says Anti. “Stop. Let me breathe for a second.”

Trick stops immediately and fetches a towel from the bathroom, returning moments later to start wiping the blood gently from his mouth. “Poor thing,” he mumbles, touching Anti’s face without fear. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Anti. But you shouldn’t feel threatened. That’s kind of dumb, man.”

“I’m going to kill you,” growls Anti.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Trick, smiling at him.

And that’s it. It’s done. You see the moment Anti regains control.

The confusion is gone. The snake is back.

“Oh, Trick,” he soothes, reaching out to cup his face in return, and Blue gasps and hides his face as Anti’s eyes turn black and drowning. “You don’t understand, do you, little brother?”

Trick’s eyes unfocus like a blind man’s. He hums distantly, the towel pausing on Anti’s cheek.

aether-mae asked: Trick, it’s not safe to have friends outside of your family at the moment, as much as I hate to say. Anti will definitely hurt her to keep you all to himself.

“You’re going to hurt me?” asks Trick distantly, swaying slightly on his feet.

“I thought about it,” answers Anti, smiling sweetly at him, carding his hands through his hair. “It would have been so easy. Maybe I still will. Shove you in the shed and beat you til you’re sobbing for me to kill you.”

Trick’s eyes flicker, but his mouth is still smiling.

“It’s not your fault, really,” says Anti, brushing his fingers through his soft locks. “You have abandonment issues, don’t you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You just want everybody to love you, poor thing.”

“I do,” confesses Trick, his face faltering with grief. “I do.”

“Course you fell for a sweet girl. Blue’s been useless to you. Dok’s gone. You must have been confused. But, see, you don’t know what I know, Trick.”

“What, Anti?”

Anti puts his head down on his shoulder, staring up at him, his mouth close to his ear.

“I’ve seen girls break your heart, Trick.”

“Break my heart?”

Anti runs his fingers over the scar in Trick’s head.

“She made you do this… you don’t remember. I made you stop thinking about her. I set you free from her.”

“You… you weren’t being possessive. You were trying to protect me?”

“That’s right, little brother. Besides, what do you need her for? Your family is right here, Trick. You don’t want to give our cover away, do you? They’d send you off to jail… take all your brothers away from you… take me away from you. You don’t want that, do you?”

Trick shakes his head swiftly, making himself dizzy. He clutches on to Anti for support, eyes drifting back towards his skull.

“Stop it!” screams Blue, no longer able to stand it. “Leave him alone! You’re ripping him apart every day! He doesn’t like having you in his head?”

“You want me to bind you up in your own vines and beat you til you cry again?” snaps Anti, turning to level a violent glare at him. Blue is paralyzed beneath the gaze.

Anonymous asked: We've seen old magical books, Anti. Blue's magic is going to kill you. It's adjusting your form to fit its true host and it'll keep doing it until it wastes you away or gets rid of your old incorporeality. You've made quite the big mess for yourself, haven't you? And still all you can do is boil in rage and self-righteous anger. Your rage controls you, you've never been the one in control here. That'll never change, Antisepticeye.

Anti seethes with fury, turning his venom gaze onto you, clutching Trick tighter, tighter, tighter to his chest.

“You don’t want to see that girl ever again,” hisses Anti. “Unless it’s when the two of us go to slaughter her for ever laying a hand on what belongs to me.”

“What belongs to you,” repeats Trick distantly, hiding his face against his neck and humming a song to himself.

“You didn’t like being with her. The sight of her makes your heart race. You’ll feel ill if you see her again. You’ll want to hide and come back to me. You’re terrified she’ll hurt you like the first girl did. You don’t want that. You don’t want to be with anyone anymore. Just stay here with your family, with your brothers, where it’s safe. Where no one can hurt your heart. You won’t go. You won’t want anyone other than me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“In fact,” Anti adds in a snarl, turning back to you, and this, you can hear, is your punishment. “If you ever start to think that anyone is more important to you than me, I’ll take the memory of them from you forever.”

The slightest trepidation interrupts Trick’s daze. You see the flicker of his eyes.

“H… Henrik?” he whispers.

Anti’s possessive grip on him tightens, tightens, tightens.

“Yes,” he whispers. “If you ever break the rules like this again, I will make you forget even Henrik.”

Trick seems to wilt against him, panting softly.

“I have the power. You would forget everything about him. And he would still remember you, but you would only see a stranger. Wouldn’t that be just horrible?”

He nods against Anti’s shoulder.

“Anti, I - I’m sorry. I’m sorry, forgive me.”

“Don’t worry, Trick,” Anti whispers, gripping his hair. “I will help you make this right.”

Blue stares up at him from the floor, tears in his eyes. Anti smiles viciously back. His teeth are still red.

Yes. He is in control. No one else. And maybe it feels like the others abandoned him, betrayed him, turned against him, found someone new. But no - no. Soon, soon as Blue can travel, they will go back to Peru.

And then Anti will take his family back again.

No one else will get in the way.

No one else ever could in the past. Kamenye. Brody-Chen. Deshmuhk. Sforza. Every casual hook-up Marvin was sleeping with, every idiot friend or loyal coworker. They don’t even matter now. They’re dead, or gone, or scattered like cowards in hiding across the earth.

Anti looks up Xin Yi’s last name.

Koh. Pretty.

Koh won’t matter either.

“We will make this right,” he repeats.

And he does not notice the fabric fluttering on the hummingbird feeder in his front yard.

A warning sign.

There are consequences to the blood that Anti has shed across the earth.

There are survivors.

Anonymous asked: Tell me you didn't touch Chase's family, Anti. His kids??

Anti smiles down at Trick’s dazed face.

Then he slaps him so hard Trick goes crashing to the earth, a handprint red against his skin, and Blue lets out a scream on his brother’s behalf, crawling forward to snatch him away from Anti.

“Stupid fucker,” growls Anti.

“You’re disgusting!” screams Blue, hiding Trick against his chest. “Hurting other people just so you can feel like you’re in control! It’s pathetic!”

“I am in control!” Anti screams back, jerking forward fast enough to make Blue cry out in fear, grabbing his broken nose. Anti laughs hard, throwing his head back. “I’m the pathetic one? Every one else is like a squirming rat to me! Chase’s fucking kids. You should be grateful I don’t kill children. But it doesn’t matter. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’ll never, ever see them again. Even if he could get free of me, those little brats are so deep in hiding even Red couldn’t hunt them down.”

“He has children?” cries Blue. “You took him from his family? Trick has children?”

“He belongs to me!” screams Anti. “He was always owed to me! The children were more of an accident than I was, and that’s a fucking miracle. Now get in your room before I decide I want to see you eating through a tube for the second time this month!”

Blue grabs Trick and scrambles back towards their room, his brother barely able to cooperate.

“Fucking girl, touching what’s mine!” he hears Anti scream, his body spasming apart into a myriad of violent colors, blood weeping down his chin again, meeting the open wound in his throat. Roots tear at his feet and the candles in the room burn like fire spirits performing a ritual to a war god. “Thieves, everyone, everyone! I hate outsiders, I hate intruders, I hate them! This is our story! The six of us and him! Anyone else is a distraction, an outlier, a mistake. Anyone else who tries to intervene can die like the worms they are.”

Blue drags Trick into his room and collapses, slamming the door shut behind them.

Anonymous asked: Literally- Bitch- Anon said "you let your rage control you" and you /immediately/ let your rage control you. Jesus christ your lack of self awareness is downright hilarious at this point Anti.

Your screen-four camera goes flying across the room the moment the message reaches Anti and crashes into Blue and Trick’s door, shattering your view into static. Blue lets out a little yelp, backing away from the door.

A drawn-out yowl like a tiny tornado siren from behind the mattress indicates Noodle’s terror.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” calls Blue to the cat, panting, pulling Trick into his lap and touching his reddened face. “Oh, Trick, Trick… my love, my amata, my brother… are you alright, my heart, are you okay? Your kitten wants you, yeah? Should I get him for you?”

Trick’s eyes are screwed shut.

He is crying in silence.

“My love,” repeats Blue in a whisper, pressing their foreheads together and gathering him into his arms. “My love. Here I am. Here I am. No one will hurt you now.”

Anonymous asked: It's literally in your own best interest to give Blue's magic back, Anti. It will kill you if you don't. YOU JUST VOMITED UP BLOOD. well, it IS your choice to keep it or not, but you won't have anyone to blame but yourself if it does something irreparable to you.

You can see him from the cameras in the corner of every room.

Panting over the sink.

Face white. Image moving.

“I’m powerful,” he whispers. “I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been. Every day, my control is stronger. At the end of every day, I’m so ill I think I will die, and I bleed and shake and grow ill like men do, b-but… but the rest of the day… my strength, my strength!”

He crumples slightly over the sink, his arms trembling.

“If I could just find a way to be both tangible and incorporeal… there must be a way… there must be a way to fix this yet. And even if I wanted to, even if I wanted to…”

He stands for a long, long time shivering over the sink.

In fact, most of you will have turned your attention away by the time he speaks again.

And even if you have not, he still speaks so quietly as to barely touch the ear - a whisper to make the kitchen a confessional - a secret -

“I don’t,” his bloodied tongue confesses. “Know how.”

Anonymous asked: Stand strong Blue. Defend your baby brother. Even if he does hurt you, at least that'll prick a hole in Trick's current false reality and bring him back to earth a bit.

“Right,” whispers Blue, curled low around Trick’s body. “Yes, I have to look after him. Yes, no matter what. Trick… amata. Fuck, I used to know your name… but it doesn’t matter, I love you.”

He cards his thumb across Trick’s cheeks, brushing tears away. “It’s okay, mo deartháir. Just hold onto me. Oh… well, let me get my oxygen.”

He grabs at his chest for a second, struggling softly, trying to pull in air. Eventually he manages to pull himself across the room and put his cannula back in his nose, taking a deep breath in.

“Blue,” cries Trick softly, clutching at his shirt.

“Trick,” answers Blue, wrapping back around him. “Trick, Trick. Sh, darling, okay. Here, look, your little paper, do you want it?”

He presses the blue crinkle paper into his brother’s palm and Trick wraps his fingers around it, hiding in Blue’s stomach.

“And your cat? Come here, kitty kitty, yes, there’s a good sweet boy.”

He scoops Noodle up and places him on Trick’s chest. He’s a sweet, intelligent cat, and immediately he is banging his little head up against Trick’s chin, mewling for attention. Trick palm closes around his growing golden body. Soft as duck down.

“What happened?” sobs Trick. “I was - I was happy and then so scared and I can’t remember why… Blue, someone’s going to hurt me, don’t let them hurt me! Blue, Blue!”

“No one’s going to hurt you,” swears Blue, pulling him close. They’re warm as space heaters against each other, curled up on the floor together. “It was - Trick, it was Anti, but I won’t let him - ”

“Oh, no,” breathes Trick, looking immediately dazed again, his eyes drooping. “He protects me, he loves me, he would never…”

Distantly, he touches his stinging cheek. Blue pulls the fingers away and leans down to kiss the mark, stroking his fingers through Trick’s hair as he cries soft against his chest.

“I was so happy,” says Trick. “Where did it go? What happened? I can’t remember… I must have really fucked up, Blue, I’m such a screw-up, I ruin everything…”

“I’m so sorry, amata,” whispers Blue. “Oh, no, Trick, not for a moment. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. You didn’t do a single thing wrong. You didn’t know Xin Yi would be in danger here. You didn’t mean to make Anti angry. You didn’t do anything. You’re so sweet to me, and to him too, even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who’s Xin Yi?”

Blue winces, putting his forehead down against Trick’s. “I… I…”

“Is - Blue, is Anti going to make me h-hurt someone?”

“I - I don’t know, Trick. Not if I can help it. We won’t let it happen, okay? We won’t let it happen.”

“Please hold me…”

“Here I am.”

“Blue,” whispers Trick. “I love you more than air. But I want Dok so, so much. Why isn’t he here? Why won’t he come back to me? Doesn’t he want me anymore?”

“He’s just lost, Trick,” Blue answers. “He still loves you so much. Won’t it be nice to see him again after so long?”

“I’ll hug him,” says Trick simply, his breathing beginning to calm a little. “I’ll be able to sleep again, when Dok is… when Dok is…”

His gaze drifts. He’s only allowed to think about Dok for so long. His brain no longer holds on the thought of him for more than a minute, and so, several times a day he feels a great pang of grief, and then a numb confusion as it disappears again.

“Just let me hold on to you,” says Blue. “I got you.”

“You got me,” answers Trick, smiling weakly up at him. “You’re really good to me, Blue. Love you so much.”

“I love you, Trick.”

“Ekk,” says Noodle, licking Trick’s chin. Trick hugs him close and listens to his roar of a purr.

Blue finds Dok’s shirt amid Trick’s nest. He drapes it over them both. Faintly, Trick registers the smell of him. Blue’s fingers soothe his pain and his fear away, moving through his hair and across his back. Blue is holding him. Blue loves him. No matter what. Right now, it’s all that matters.

Anonymous asked: Trick please... You don't have to change yourself or act like someone you're not for the sake of making everyone happy. They love you for you. They love Trick and not... Whoever. Just... Blue please tell him? It would mean a lot more if it came from you. -🦀

Blue softens, staring at you for a second.

Fuck, but he’s glad to have someone on his side.

“You guys and Mr. Noodle here,” he murmurs, curling low over his brother, hugging him close.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I love you just the way you are.”

Trick stares up at him, his eyes wet and his mouth smiling sorrowfully.

“Blue,” he whispers, like a single-syllable song.

“Don’t want you to think you have to change for him,” chokes Blue, kissing his cheek again.

“Who’s him?”

He can’t bear to fight with him about Anti right now. Blue puts his face down against Trick’s shoulder.

It’s Trick’s turn to run his fingers across Blue’s scalp, soothing him even as he continues to cry. Their arms wrap around each other’s shoulders and ribs like a weary twilight Pieta. Blue gives his brother time. He needs it too. A half hour, an hour. Rocking him in his arms and listening to him snuffle and cry and try to figure out what happened, his confused mind making a mess of it and leaving him exhausted in Blue’s arms. Still, he has enough presence of mind to find the most important thing to say, when finally Blue feels his heart slow against his fingertips.

“I love you too,” swears Trick. “Just the way you are.”

“Anti made me the way I am,” says Blue. “And it’s not enough to protect you.”

“It’s always enough,” Trick says, with a reverence like a prayer. “Don’t you know you make me want to love myself?”

Warm hands and bodies pressed close together. The purring of a cat and the brotherhood shared in twin eyes.

Blue knocks their foreheads softly together.

“You and me?” he whispers, settling down against their nest.

“Yes,” says Trick. “No matter what happens. I have you, Blue.”

“Amata,” says Blue, trying to make up for the times Anti has said it with his lying mouth, trying to make up for all the times Anti corrupted this one truth that still remains. “Amata. Amata. Beloved. I love you.”

The sun has come down blue as the felt between the night sky and warm on their shoulders. Trick, Blue realizes, has fallen asleep in his arms.

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

Anonymous asked: Hey Henrik, you should ask the magicians for some candles that you can light on the shabbats! I think finally being allowed/able to practice your culture will really help you on your journey to healing. Remember dayenu, remember the blessings and songs. You're free, dok, you can have more than just Hanukkah now.

You find Henrik sitting in that dusty library basement, surrounded by the tall shelves of the books, flipping wearily through the pages of some stiff yellow tome. He’s surrounded by books, but, for once, all on his own. He no longer feels the need to be lead around or escorted. He knows he’s not a prisoner and, what’s more, he goes where he pleases.

“Ah,” he says, pushing his glasses up on his nose and giving you a small smile. “Well… that’s very nice. And I’d like to do some of that, maybe. I remember my songs and blessings even when I’m with Anti, but I don’t always use them anyhow.”

He sighs and fiddles with the pages of the book. “It is just not that easy as jumping back into it, yeah? Like… fuck, I don’t know. Anti’s not the only thing that’s been stopping me from my practices, I guess. My relationship with my faith is… well, it’s a lot of strings to untangle. I’d like to go back to having a real community, but even if I didn’t feel like I was going back to Anti soon, I’m still not sure I feel like I… I belong, you know, I’m just…”

He trails off, pulling his book closer and shaking his head.

There’s movement on the other side of the library and he blinks, looking around, but he settles back down to his reading.

“Trying to find more info on what Anti is,” he says, changing the subject. “But no real luck. I don’t think he’s anything anyone has ever seen before.”

cest-mellow asked: hey henrik, i’m glad they took you here. it’s very pretty. but, listen, there is a way you can potentially help blue and stop anti. this is gonna sound scary, but emmanuela wants to take a little look inside your head, just to see what antis done, nothing more. she’s very warm, she doesn’t want to cause you or your brothers any sort of harm. she really will help you, and blue, and red and dapper and trick, if you trust her with this. she won’t use any of this against you, it’s only to help.

“Oh, scheisse,” groans Henrik, putting a nail between his teeth. “JP mentioned something like that at dinner. I - oh, get this! They made me eat fucking lamb’s intestines and wouldn’t tell me what it was until I was done, haha. I wanted to be pissed but, okay, listen, lamb’s intestines? Kind of good. I ate… a lot of it, haha.”

He’s a healthier person than when he came here almost two weeks ago, his face flushed with health. He’s been exercising again - turns out he’s something of a runner, which is not something he would have guessed about himself - and he eats three meals a day, every day, and sleeps in every morning.

“Wait until I get them back with something really German, then we’ll see who’s laughing. Oh my gosh, I can still feel how chewy it was! And the kids are so funny, because they will just gobble it down, they just - ”

He pauses and clears his throat. “Sorry, we were talking about Emmanuela. Yes. Um.”

He lets out a deep breath, fidgeting with his book. “I think I trust her. I know the others do and that’s about enough for me. But someone in my head is - that sounds scary, I - I don’t know. I’ve been disillusioned about so many things for so long and I’m still waking up to them. I’m scared she’ll find that there are important things I believe in that are lies too. That maybe everything is a lie. She’ll find something like Trick doesn’t love me without Anti there or Dapper is as bad as Anti or Anti is really… is really…”

He shakes his head slowly, staring down at his books.

“Is really and truly irredeemable. I don’t know that I could bear it…”

There’s movement again, closer to him. He blinks, looking up, shrinking in on himself a little. The lights flicker off on one half of the library and he jolts, staring around him, shadowed half in darkness. Footsteps and he shivers.

“Hermann?” he calls. “Nina?”

No answer from the darkness.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Henrik, maybe you should be on your guard. Where did all the others go?

“I don’t know, just hanging around,” he says, getting to his feet. “I - I’m just being paranoid. Nobody can reach me here. Nothing’s going to hurt me.”

It’s become something of a mantra for him. He whispers it to himself after nightmares and triggers, hiding away on his own, holding his own arms around his shoulders.

“Maybe I’ll go. It’s getting late anyway. I’m just being paranoid. Nobody can reach me here. Nothing’s going to hurt me.”

“Funny,” answers a voice, and Henrik shudders, backing against the shelves, his breath picking up in his chest.

This voice has the thickest Spanish accent yet, almost too heavy for Henrik to understand. The shaking of the voice - the croaking, rasping, cold hiss of the trembling voice - does not make it any easier.

“Funny,” repeats the Old Man, somewhere close by. Somewhere between the shelves of the placid, dusted old library, half-dark. “Funny, funny. A joke, almost. My son, you know, he think the same thing before your brother kill him.”

A snake longer than Henrik’s entire body comes dripping down the bookshelf in front of him, golden eyes fixed directly on him.

hurricael asked: Hey magicians, do you know if someone giving back magic has ever been recorded? And if so, how? Like, magic that was taken and then given back to that person ((I'm a little timeline-muddled so if this doesn't fit here feel free to ignore it))

“Have you been looking for answers?” asks the Old Man, and Henrik whirls as his voice seems to move, almost like Anti’s does, and Henrik feels his heart constrict. “Have you been looking for salvación for your killer family? For all the different kind of murderer you love? For the one who kill Jose, and the one who kill Christofer when he go to help you, and the one who tortures Genesis?”

Fuck. Henrik closes his eyes tight against the memories. No! He won’t be intimidated by this man. He won’t be cowed. He’s Henrik, Dok, their brother.

“You don’t understand!” he cries. “You don’t understand anything about us.”

“Everybody like to say it’s complicated when bad things happen,” answers the Old Man. “You are here, you talk about religion down here? Talk about going back to being a good Jew? It’s complicated. Nobody understand. You tell yourself. But sometimes? You were just wrong. You were just evil. And not everybody deserves salvación.”

“No,” croaks Henrik. “You can’t just - ”

“If you had wanted answers,” says the Old Man. “I am the one who know every book in this library. Here’s your answer: no, your thieving, blood-thirsty brother can’t give the magic back, or at least that is not in any of the books, in any of the history. Same way your black and white brother can’t undo the scars on Genesis, and your red brother can’t bring my child back from the dead.”

Henrik leaps the snake and races back towards the stairs. His hands are growing wet with - oh, oh, what is this? When did he begin to bleed?

“Hey!” he screams, tumbling against a bookshelf. “What are you doing? Please stop! I’m sorry about your child but I didn’t - ah!”

Blood is running down his cheeks. Down his chest. Down his arms. He screams as cuts appear, painless but weeping, across his skin. Thick, heavy scars in some places, neat little patterns in others. The same scars Anti and Dapper gave Genesis. Henrik can feel the star shape on his cheek. Chain burns redden on his shaking wrists.

“The longer you stay here,” hisses the Old Man. “The more tired I am of excuses for everything your family is done to mine. You are not worth defending if monster comes back. You were not worth Jose and Christofer. You should not be here.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: GENESIS! ANYONE! HENRIK IS IN DANGER!

Genesis gets the notification on her phone, turning you on to let you see her splayed out on her bed, eating crackers.

“What?” she says through a half-full mouth, and then the message kind of registers, and she’s scrambling to her feet, spilling crumbs everywhere. “What? Where is he? Anti can’t have gotten in here. Emmanuela!”

She races out of her room, tearing open the door to Henrik’s room, but he isn’t inside.

Anonymous asked: Genesis, the Old Man is attacking henrik, isn’t there any way for you guys to stop him??

“Motherfucker!” shouts Genesis, even louder than she called for Emmanuela, tearing down towards the stairs. “He would not! He did not! Emmanuela will eviscerate him!”

“Genesis? What’s going on?” calls one of the three children, poking their heads out of the dining room.

“Go get everyone for me, now! It’s an emergency. The Old Man’s lost it. I shouldn’t have left the medico alone!”

She’s charging down the stairs already. “Henrik!” she shouts. “It’s okay, I’m coming! It’s not real, medico!”

Henrik can’t hear her. He’s curled up in a ball, clutching at his head, your camera abandoned beside him.

“Do you remember me?” asks a voice you haven’t heard in weeks, and the heavy boots of the enormous magician who had tried to carry Trick back to the car to be with Henrik appear in your vision. Christofer leans down over Henrik and blood comes pulsing from his throat, a great dog’s-teeth wound tearing his neck into bloody shreds. “Do you remember I tried to help you?”

“Stop!” he screams. “Please, no!”

There’s another body behind him a moment later. You’ve never seen this magician before, but you know who he is. He holds the great black book that Anti stole and used to take Marvin’s magic. Red killed him.

“Is it easy?” says Jose. “To pretend all the people you hurt are just side characters, nameless, forgotten the moment you put a blade in them? How many people have you killed, medico? How many of their names do you remember now? All of them had people who loved them.”

“I never wanted to!” screams Henrik.

“But that isn’t quite true now, is it?” sneers Jose’s image, and Henrik can hear himself laughing wildly, crazed, can hear the horrible squealch of his scalpel impaling a body again and again, cackling and babbling in German, and Anti cooing in his ear:

“There’s my good Doktor. There’s my little torturer. Now, at last you can admit it - you never became a doctor to heal anybody. You always wanted to feel what it would be like to kill someone and hold their heart in your hands.”

Henrik sobs and wraps his arms around himself. “Trick!” he screams. “Trick, please!”

Anonymous asked: It’s an old man, talking about how red killed his child. They’re in the library and he’s freaking Henrik out!

Genesis bounds down the stairs and finds Henrik shaking at the bottom, curled into a ball, holding his head and babbling.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t happy. I didn’t mean to. Let me go back to Trick. I did what you asked. Let me go back to Trick. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”

She falls to her knees beside him and cups his face in her hands, shushing him lowly, looking over him for injuries, but, while Henrik’s camera shows you rivulets of blood and bodies standing over him and the great long body of a constrictor snake creeping along the floor towards him, there is nothing in Genesis’s phone camera except Henrik himself, whole and unharmed, rocking on the floor.

“I’ll make him stop, I’ll make him stop, it’s just an illusion,” she reassures him, leaping back to her feet. “Viejo, paras! I’ll go get him, medico, stay here!”

Almost as soon as she’s rushing down the library shelves to find the Old Man, Hermann is crashing down the stairs to fall at Henrik’s side, taking his hands in his own, his eyes looking wildly around.

Anonymous asked: There's a reason we've done away with 'an-eye-for-an-eye' punishments. It's not as simple as your family hurt mine so I get to hurt yours back. We judge based on individual actions and we learn and grow and forgive if we choose to. I get that you're mourning your family's losses, but hurting Henrik won't take away your hurt. You're just putting more hurt into the world.

“They’re right, so cut it the fuck out!” screams Genesis, rounding the corner of the bookshelves, and there, at last, you see the Old Man.

His dry mouth is twisted into a terrible snarl.

The wrinkles around his eyes are soaked in tears.

He cries in silence, glaring at nothing, his eyes glowing faintly gold from the magic he’s using on Henrik.

“Viejo,” calls Genesis, her eyes softening, though her mouth is still taut with anger for her friend. “Stop. Stop. Jose wouldn’t have wanted this.”

“It does not matter,” he mumbles in Spanish, tears splashing onto the floor. “He is not here and never will be again.”

Anonymous asked: Question old man: who the hell are you HELPING by doing this? You passed-on family is gone, and the ones who are still here are trying to help this guy sure himself out and stop a demon so he can't hurt anyone else. You're directly impeding progress on that front. You're certainly not helping yourself by debasing any trust your living family has in you.

“You can kick me out after this if you please,” he tells Genesis, slumping back in his chair, his hand limp on the table before him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

She comes to stand beside him, her eyes flickering. After a moment, she puts her hand down on his shoulder.

He reaches up and traces the scars that Anti left her, his eyes clouded with both age and misery.

“Stop,” she says. “Please, I’m asking you. Jose was not the only one who loves you. I’m ashamed of you now. Stop, for my sake. For Jose’s memory.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, but at her request, the glow in his eyes fades away.

Henrik chokes and slackens across the floor as the hallucinations fade away, still shuddering. Hermann is murmuring reassurances to him, trying to get him back to his feet. It’s best to get him out of the library before anything else happens.

Genesis and the Old Man are still together in the darkness. He stares down at the wood of the table and closes his weeping eyes.

bupine asked: old man, these men have been through so much pain. i understand you have too. but wishing more pain on them does nothing. it doesn't help you feel better, i'm sure, and it won't reverse any scars or bring any person back from the dead. i am so sorry about your son. anti has done a lot of terrible things, and his brothers have too, as a result. but they're hypnotized, they have no choice. save your rage for someone who truly deserves it.

“The medico is a good man,” whispers Genesis, leaning down to touch his hand. “You would know that if you had given him a chance.”

The Old Man shakes his head slowly, slowly.

“I mean it. He’s like me, viejo. He’s like Jose was too. How many of us have come here because people hurt us and set us down paths we never meant to go down? This is supposed to be a place to have some peace. To find yourself. Why would you do that to him? He was hypnotized. He was lost.”

The Old Man just shakes his head. Eyes still closed. “No. Hypnosis only goes so far. Maybe the demon killed Christofer. But Jose was killed by one of the servants. And he should have fought. He should have fought it. I don’t care how hard it would have been. He gave himself up to the demon and Jose died for it. If that red man ever comes near this place, I’ll show him what it feels like to watch the people you love most die around you. I’ll shatter his mind til he’s in pieces and you can call it an act of mercy, then, because the demon won’t use his hands for murder after that.”

“Stop,” snarls Genesis, shaking her head. “You stop. Don’t you dare threaten any one of them. I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed.”

Anonymous asked: Why did you do that? Did you hope to gain something from torturing him?

“He plans to go back to the monster,” says the Old Man. “He still loves his brothers. Maybe he should have a chance to see them for what they really are. Maybe he should see himself for what he really is. Not one monster. Six.”

Genesis draws away from him, mouth pursed. She doesn’t know what to do. She’ll leave it to Emmanuela to decide what to do with him. Her hand falls away from his shoulder.

Anonymous asked: Sir, I’m sorry that you lost your child and I can’t begin to understand how that might feel, but taking it out on Henrik will not bring him back. Henrik was brainwashed and manipulated to do what he was told by the demon he was with, and he didn’t even kill him. Your child’s blood is on the demon’s hands, not his.

Genesis draws away from him. Doesn’t have the energy or time to comfort him while Henrik’s in pain and it’s his fault. She moves back towards the stairs, leaving the Old Man behind in the darkness.

“Wasn’t the demon’s hands either,” you hear the Old Man whisper, quiet as Genesis moves away from him. “I was the one who sent him to fetch the book. My son…”

If you were seated back at the table with him for a moment, you might have seen one more illusion, one more of his magic tricks - a young man sitting there beside him, healthy and strong and beautiful, smiling at him and reaching out to hold his hand. But no matter how long the image sits so lovingly beside him, the warmth of his fingers and the touch of his skin would never come down on their father’s palm again.

Anonymous asked: You underestimate the demon’s power. They did fight, and they’re still fighting, every single minute of every single day. Some days are harder than others, scarier than other, and sometimes they have to do things that aren’t too pretty to survive. They have known nothing else but survival and their abuser. I respect the place that your opinion comes from, but it is also one of misguided anger and it is beyond wrong to trigger a victim because you are hurt. It is not your place to pass judgement.

“Come on,” murmurs Genesis, carrying you up the stairs. “Let’s not waste any more time with him. If he doesn’t see that now, words won’t make him see it. He’s in a great deal of pain. Fuck, I knew he had objected to letting the medico wander free, but I never thought…”

She shakes her head, hustling up the stairs, where she finds a panicked JP waiting for the elevator.

“Genesis! What’s going on?”

“Old Man gave Henrik Nightmares. Maybe you shouldn’t bother him right now, JP.”

“He did not.”

“He did. Come on, I can hear him crying out. I need to check he’s okay.”

JP grabs his wheels and hurries after her.

“Where’s Nina?”

“Lying down. Baby’s really hurting her.”

“Damn baby,” mumbles Genesis, and despite the situation JP snorts out a laugh, running his hands through his hair. “Hermann? Where are you?”

“We’re in Emmanuela’s office,” Hermann calls back.

Henrik grabbed you at some point and you’re clutched tight in his shaking hands, listening to him wheezing and choking out terrified German. Hermann is kneeling close beside him and Emmanuela is sitting on his left, her eyes faintly gold, trying to pull him out of the last of the illusions.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to! Red didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to hurt them, he didn’t want to hurt us, he just - he- I didn’t!”

“Hey, you’re safe,” Hermann whispers, squeezing his hands. “You’re safe, you’re safe.”

“I want Trick! Trick! Please, where is he?”

“I don’t know, amigo, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

spicydanhowell asked: if you wanna comfort henrik, try rubbing his back or his head. his twin used to do that a lot

“Can I touch you?” asks Hermann.

Henrik is already gripping at his hands, disoriented and lost and afraid. “Trick?” he sobs.

“It’s Hermann, medico. It’s okay.”

“I want my brother,” he chokes. “I want - I want Anti.”

There’s a slight shift in all the magicians around him, glances exchanged and mouths twisted. Emmanuela gets to her feet and begins ushering people out of the room. “Give him some space.” The children race off, followed by a more reluctant JP and Genesis. Emmanuela sits down at her desk to give him room, and Hermann shifts closer to Henrik. He reaches up to touch the back of his head and, when Henrik only falters into it, he strokes gently at his hair, still clutching his free hand.

“I’m sorry he did that to you,” says Hermann. “I meant to protect you. I’m sorry.”

“No, he was right,” sobs Henrik, clutching at his face. “I’m a murderer and a sadist, I always have been, I love the sight of blood, just a freak… my brothers have all killed people, except maybe Blue, and we do it all just because Anti tells us to, and do you know what the worst part is?”

“Medico, Henrik, sh, sh…”

“I still love him,” cries Henrik, feeling something snapping inside his chest. “I still love him! He is my brother! I know he is a monster and I still want him! The Old Man was right. I’m just a monster too, wanting to be with him, wanting to be his.”

He crumples across Hermann’s shoulders, tumbling against his chest, and Hermann just reaches out to hold him, stroking slowly at his hair.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hen.... it's okay. Yes you might have done wrong in the past, but that does NOT make you a monster. You will wee Trick soon, okay?

“I need to go back to him,” Henrik is sobbing, gripping at Hermann’s shoulders. “No, I mean it! I’ve been thinking it this whole time, I - I can’t - I’m not ready to leave Anti, or at least not leave Trick and my brothers with him.”

“Medico,” says Emmanuela.

“No, I mean it,” he repeats. “I meant to tell you - you, mostly - ” He casts you a red-eyed glance, hiccuping. “I plan to go back to Anti. I do. I’m not - I’d like to stay. I would. But I can’t leave Trick and Blue behind, or the others. I have to be there to look after them. That’s my job. I’m planning to go back to Anti. I am. You shouldn’t try to stop me.”

Emmanuela sits back in her chair, sighing. Hermann gives her a desperate glance, but she’s turned away from him.

“You can’t do that,” whispers Hermann, gripping Henrik’s head tighter. “You have to stay safe.”

“I know there’s nothing selfish about staying away from someone who’s treated you poorly. But I still… I still need to be with Anti. I feel his presence clawing at me. He’s so deep inside my head. And what’s more, I want to be with him. I can’t just give up on him, or on the others. They must be suffering so much. I have to look after Blue and protect Trick as he comes down from what Anti’s putting him through. Besides, I’ll only bring Anti here if I continue to hide. It was never feasible, me staying here. I need to go back to Anti. I want to go back to Anti. I want to go back to Trick.”

“This is horrible,” says Hermann, shaking his head. “No.”

“He’ll make his own choice,” says Emmanuela softly.

It would not be the first time she’s let people go, no matter how unwise it seemed.

“He’s an adult and a free man. He’ll make his own choice. But first he must let me make sure he sees as clearly as he can.”

She turns and levels her gaze at Henrik. He swallows shakily and stares back.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, no, it's okay. You're okay. He had such a powerful hold, it's completely understandable to still be affected by it. He changed you, and you're doing a wonderful job recovering. And remember, Henrik, he messed with your head, and if the core that's you got shaken up by it, that's okay, he meant it to do that. You're okay, buddy.

“How much of who I am is him messing with my head?” whispers Henrik, burying his face in his hands. “How much of who I am is really me and how much is him? How much of him is really a monster and how much was real in the times when he made me think he loved me? How much of any of us is real? Are we just puppets? Was the person I was anything like this at all?”

Hermann looks helplessly over at Emmanuela, who, at this point, is mostly looking sad for him. Henrik hides from her pity and pretends the warmth against him is Trick’s.

“Can I see?” she asks.

“Inside my head?”

“Yes.”

“Could you if I said no?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t.”

Henrik stares down at the floor, exhausted, his heart still pounding so hard it hurts. He chokes on a sob and tears come drizzling down his face. What a mess he is. What a mess he’s always been, long as he can remember.

“Can you help me get my memories back?” he asks in a croak.

“Maybe,” she says. “It depends on the way the monster took them.”

He looks up at her, startled.

“What, really?”

“No clue til I try.”

Hermann is rubbing soothingly at his knee. Henrik glances over at him, meeting the calm trust in his eyes. Henrik looks up at you, nervous.

“Okay,” he says softly, clutching you to his chest. “But if you try anything, they’ll tell me!”

Emmanuela chuckles, soft and low.

Hermann leaves them alone in the room. Henrik feels awkward staring up at her, and a little afraid.

“What is this going to answer for me?” he asks in a croak.

“Well,” says Emmanuela. “How much of his control was ever voluntary for you. How he got in your head, which might, in turn let us know how to get him out. How real some of the things you’ve believed are. What happened to your memories - locked away in your brain or just destroyed.”

Henrik laughs and tugs on his hair, shaking his head slowly. “Well, fuck,” he says. “That might be too many answers.”

“Just take it easy,” she says. “Close your eyes.”

“I feel very stupid,” he admits.

She laughs without mocking him. He closes his eyes.

Here are some things that are true.

Henrik von Schneeplestein did not for a moment choose Anti. He did not agree. He was not convinced. Even more so than Blue, he was shoved down this rabbit hole; he was broken in half and then rebuilt. The remnant of that time makes old scars tingle along his body, burns and cuts and bones ever-so-slightly out of place. Anti told him he didn’t know how he got them. Probably from the old master, he said. Probably from that old and painful life. Briefly, Henrik feels the ghost of a memory, staring across at Trick before he was Trick, the two of them whispering encouragement as the days went by, until at last Henrik shattered, and Trick fell down with him.

Here are some things that are true.

Anti falsified all of it in the beginning. The feeling of fondness towards him. The feeling of safety. The lie of the danger outside. There was no one coming for them, except old friends who missed them, or at least what few of their old friends who remained alive. Henrik had people he loved and he forgot them. Henrik loved Jameson and Jackie and Marvin and he forgot that too. Things changed as time went on. Dok loved Anti. Dok loves Anti.

Anti has, at moments - at small, fleeting moments, loved him too. Earnestly and truly. There is a bullet scar in Dok’s side that will never go away, but the only reason he survived it at all was because of the great black dog that guarded him from their enemies. The great black dog that took bullet after bullet for him, and saw a dozen possible futures at Dapper’s hands, and chose the one where Doktor did not die. There were moments where he would look over at him and think, at least, ‘he is something worth loving.’

Selfish love, sometimes, but at moments, present.

For the most part, however, Anti has not loved him, not slightly, not well, not enough, and that was a choice he made. Killing Henrik was an act of revenge, and from there, Dok has been tortured again and again by the hatred of the monster he came to call his brother, and it isn’t fair, and it wasn’t loving, and the brotherhood between them is, if real, a terrible, terrible curse to him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

Here are some things that are true.

Anti is jealous and Henrik’s memories are gone, permanently. Not locked away. Not hidden. Destroyed. Powerful magic. Powerful theft. Henrik will never remember that old life. Only glimpses of it, ghosts of it. Emmanuela searches and Henrik sees distant things - a house in the middle of the forest. The disappearance of a little brother. The flight from home. His brothers around him. Chase. But these are empty gaps where memories once were, not things recalled.

Here is one thing that is true.

“He’s entangled himself completely in your family,” says Emmanuela. “In your mind.”

Dok loves Anti. Henrik loves Anti. He does, he does. Despite everything. Despite the false foundation.

“He made it seem real,” she says. “Because the family between the rest of you was real. As time went on, you lost the ability to distinguish between the intruder and the reality. And he just became another brother. Flawed, maybe, but so were all of you. A bad temper, you said. You couldn’t see that he wasn’t real. Because if he wasn’t, than what does that make the rest of it? False as well? You knew it like this: ‘I love Trick and Trick loves me, truly and fully. Anti gave Trick to me. Anti must love us too, truly and fully, or wouldn’t that mean Trick didn’t love me too?’“

Henrik tries to breathe, burying his face in his hands. He did not feel her in his head, but he felt the remnants of so many things he’s forgotten or tried to forget. Grief and anger and hurt and pain and happy things, too, but less of them, not as many as there should have been.

“He is a talented manipulator,” she says. “More powerful and skilled than anyone I’ve ever come into contact with. I don’t know - Henrik, I’m sorry - I don’t know how you’ll convince yourself fully that he really is as bad as all that. No matter what I show you, no matter how much time you have, he will still be buried in there by virtue of his power. This web - I don’t know how to break it. You love your brothers and your brothers love you. Anti is caught up in the middle of that, hiding in the subconscious, unable to be ratted out without ratting the real love out too. It’s not fair. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you’re just wrong about him,” Henrik sobs. “You have to be, if he seems so real!”

“Henrik… this is what I mean. No matter how much you cling to him, you know, logically, what’s real. You saw him hurt your magician that night. He could have killed him. You’ve seen him lock your little brother away in his room for months on end. You’ve seen him twist the others into things they never wanted to be. You’ve been hurt by him yourself, medico. You know. You know.”

“But I still love him,” says Henrik.

“Yes,” says Emmanuela, very soft. “That’s a normal part of abuse, but… I don’t think that this will go away normally.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” says Henrik.

He tries to breathe. He’s got this. He’s fine. He’s a motherfucking certified genius, he can figure this shit out.

“Here are my options,” he says. “One - I run away and I stay gone and not only does Anti hunt me for the rest of my life, but I’ll always feel attached to him as long as I’m attached to the others, who, as far as I will know, will continue to be tortured by Anti.”

Emmanuela just watches him. She will let him make his own choices.

“Or, two - I find a way to disentangle Anti from my family. Not just my image of my family, but the whole of my family. Realizing, logically, that he is a horrible son of a bitch has so far proved useless. I still know that I love the others, and they love Anti, or at least some of them do, and as long as that’s true, he’ll always be buried in there somewhere. I can’t escape him alone. None of us can. So to get away from him, I’d have to - ”

He stops short, staring at the wall.

Looking up at last.

“We’re… all going to have to turn on him together,” he says. “Aren’t we?”

Emmanuela looks at him. She has endless eyes. Her dark hair gleams.

“Yes,” she says. “I think so.”

He sits back on his chair. Staring at that wall. Stained glass windows at the side of it. Letting in the light, but letting it in blood red.

“Impossible,” he says. “Impossible.”

“No,” she says, reaching out to touch his hand. “It isn’t. It’s just a fight, Henrik. And you’re going to have to fight it. With them. Not alone anymore. With your brothers. Stop watching each other get hurt and stand together. Find your family again. The real one. You don’t have to surrender.”

Blood red streaks across him. Light and color and the blank face of the wall. The closed door waiting to be opened.

“I need to see Anti again,” he says, very soft.

“To fight?” she asks. “Or to give up?”

He doesn’t answer.

She leans back in her desk, her eyes faintly gold.

“I’ll make preparations for if you choose to leave,” she says. “I’ll give you weapons. Protection. Anything I can. It’s your choice, Henrik.”

He walks back to his room alone, and sits on the bed, and stares at the wall.

Here is a truth, a great truth, greater than anything else that he knows, great enough, he thinks, perhaps, to fight for:

He wants to be free, and bring his family with him.

But it will not be easy.

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

aether-mae asked: Hen, when Anti comes, I want you to keep this time in mind. Keep in mind how you are safe and happy with the magicians, and remind yourself you are bringing this contentment to trick. Bring trick away from Anti so he can enjoy this with you.

You can find him in the sunlight.

They’re playing a partnered card game that involves slapping your hand down on the cards faster than everyone else, coming up with secret signals to communicate, and a lot of wild giggling, especially from JP and Nina, losing it on his right side. He’s sitting down against the wall with one arm around her shoulders and one arm around her rounded belly and their black hair is glowing in the light. Henrik tugs you closer to him at the beeping, but he’s distracted by the chattering of Genesis and Hermann and Basilio, who is eagerly perched in Henrik’s lap, trying to slap the cards every single time a new one falls.

“You have to wait for a sandwich of cards,” laughs Henrik, dragging his little hand back again. “Like, maybe an eight and then something else and then another eight. A sandwich.”

“Que?”

“You have to - haha, you’ll learn, you’ll figure it out.”

Basilio slaps the cards again and Henrik breaks down into laughter.

Loud laughter. Loud, deep from the bottom of his chest. His head falls back and his eyes squint up and his shoulders shake with it.

And he catches your message out of the corner of his eye, and pauses to read it, and fuck, fuck.

He has to fight, doesn’t he?

He has to fight for Trick to have this.

If he’s going back -

The sun is golden on him. His skin fits him right. There is a child laughing on his lap and friends around him.

If he’s going back, he’s going back to fight.

He has to bring this joy back to his brothers.

He strokes Basilio’s dark hair and -

“Sandwich!”

- slaps the cards.

“Henrik,” groans a chorus of accented voices at him as he collects the cards he’s won, and he’s laughing again, and he’s warm, and Hermann’s hand comes down on his own just for a moment as if to say, ‘yes, brother, here we are.’

Anonymous asked: I don't think you need to figure out exactly who you were under his control, because I think the lines were blurred enough that we might never quite know. People do things they wouldn't usually to survive, and to protect themselves, and I do not think you can be faulted for things he made you do. And as you begin to come back, we can begin to figure out who you are now.

They devolve into sitting around and kicking a football around eventually, Henrik sitting on the sidelines and drinking beer with JP as Genesis and Hermann play monkey in the middle with Basilio.

“It’s kind of frightening,” he tells you, though he says it calmly. “Knowing that I have to find myself again. Knowing that I will never be that same person I was. But I think I want it. I think that’s something I want to stand up for. For my chance to be Henrik, and not just here, sheltered away from him. For my chance to be Henrik again in all things.”

“That’s the good part about it,” says Nina, turning to smile at him. “You go through so much you don’t know how to get back that person that you used to be, but then… then you get to choose the person you become. And that person becomes someone who is a survivor despite everything. A fighter despite everything. You choose strength and it shapes you.”

She smiles softly at the brick beneath her feet, turning her head to gaze at her husband, stroking her hand along her belly.

“Every day,” she says, touching Henrik’s shoulder. “We’re choosing. It’s okay to make new choices. Okay to be a different person. Every day a new person. I think that’s what’s really beautiful about being a person at all.”

aether-mae asked: Henrik! My lovely fellow. Red and Dap are on their way to you, without Anti and with no intention to return to Anti (as of yet). Is there any way you know of that could bring you to them faster or would you like to wait for them?

“What’s this? Red?”

“Hermann!”

Emmanuela’s coming up the stairs, beckoning for him. He hurries over to her and they exchange a few soft words. She presses something into his hands and leaves again.

Hermann stares down at it for a second. Holds it in his hands.

“Henrik,” he calls, trying to steady his voice, turning back towards him with a smile, holding a phone. “It’s for you.”

“It’s what?” Henrik gets onto his feet. Hermann just holds the phone out to him.

Henrik puts it to his ear.

Soft breathing, shy and nervous. Soft mumbling in the background. Soft shuffling and a deep breath.

“Dok?”

Henrik’s heart is a bird uncaged.

“Red! Oh, oh, I - I - is it you, is it? Bruder, is est du? How, how, Red, Red, I - ”

Red is stammering and babbling and stumbling just as much as he is on the other end of the line, his voice hoarse and shaking.

“We used the cameras, Max sent his phone number to them - I didn’t think it would work, thought it was a trick, fuck, Dok, is it you?”

“It’s me, it’s me! Red! I didn’t know if you were alright, I didn’t know if you were in prison… tell me something only you would know!”

“I - I, um. For Christmas this year, Trick got you coffee.”

Henrik bursts into laughter without knowing why, gripping his hair. “Red, Red!”

“Dap’s here too - he says your favorite book is the Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder and he loves you and he says you better believe it’s him, he loves you, he loves you - ”

“Oh, my little brother, is he well? Put him on the phone, I need to - no, wait - ”

It’s Red’s turn to laugh, and then they’re just having a breakdown together two countries away, listening to each other’s voices, chattering everything that comes to mind, and Henrik can hear Dapper clicking and striking his hands together at Red’s side.

“Dok, we want to come get you.”

“You want to come get me?”

“Yes. Yeah. We’ve got a car. We’re headed your way. Dok, I have to see you again. I can’t take all of us being separated anymore. I don’t know how we would have survived without the help we found.”

“Well, that I understand,” chokes out Henrik, gripping that phone like it’s keeping his head above water. “Red, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he says. “Yes. Come get me. I need to see you. My brothers. I love you.”

He didn’t mean to make Red’s voice shake even harder. He thinks he hears tears in his eyes. His strong older brother crying just for him.

“Where can I find you, Deutsch?”

“The market,” Henrik answers immediately. “Where we bought coffee and polar bear shirts and dog tags and rings. Red. Bruder, hermano, my friend. Come get me.”

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

Anonymous asked: Hold on just a while longer Blue- No, not blue, Marvin. Hold on just a little while longer. The missing brothers are free. I don't think anything anti does could convince them to come back to him at this point. Anti has enemies that will take him down in this weak state. Almost there you strong, wonderful magician. Protect Chase, protect yourself, I can't make promises but I feel the end to your pain is on the horizon. Do not go gentle. Rage against the dying of the light.

Do not go gentle. Rage against the dying of the light.

He sleeps every night now with his arms wrapped tight around Trickshot. They tangle up in blankets and brothers’ shirts and the tube for his oxygen.

The end of your pain is on the horizon.

He curls his body around Trick’s. As if he can protect him. At the least, he has to try. His fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Trick squirms closer to him in his sleep, mumbling and throwing his arms around him, entangling their legs. Noodle readjusts to sit nearly on his face.

They would not begrudge you the quick look in on them as they slept. You are, after all, a beacon of safety - for Trick, a sign that Anti watches over him; for Blue, a steady ally against everything that hurts him. A friend.

It is late, though. How long will you watch him? How many of you are looking on? Everything is still. Have you often peered at the silence of them? At the little moments, where nothing exists but the hand of their brother clasped in their own? Loyal watcher. You see things they do not always see. It is late, though. Will you go to sleep? Who taught you to watch so vigilantly? You remember the things the rest of the world has forgotten - glitches and Silent Nights and white string and comas. You remember things that never happened, because Jameson undid them.

The watchful few. The handful of you. It is late, though. Will you sleep?

Movement in their window.

A shadow, at first. Pausing. Casting a low shade of darkness over what little light comes in through their window.

The shadow shifts.

Closer.

And then there is a silhouette in their window. The silhouette of a person.

They do not know you’re there. They do not know you see.

They come close to the window. Cast that black and impenetrable shadow down over Trick and Blue, asleep on their mattress. The perfect outline of a person looking down at them. For a moment, they only stare down at them. Unmoving. Cold.

They move away again. You think they wear a cape. No. You think they have the wings of a bird. In the moonlight, a flicker of gold.

Trick and Blue sleep. Tangled up in blankets and brothers’ shirts and the tube for his oxygen.

Loyal watcher. It is late, though.

How long will you watch?

How long will the shadow?

End Section Nine of Chapter Three: The Separated Twins

#chapter three #writers of jack

[doon-writes]

medieval au for dennor week (day 2)

• i am sooooo late im so sorry

• sigurd = norway // magnus = denmark

• trigger warning for a lil bit of violence, blood, and gore (witch burnings and like 1 fight scene)

[[MORE]]

Magnus wished he could say this was the first time he'd attended a burning. The first time he'd waited in a small crowd of eager people to smell burning flesh on the wind and to see someone wither into ashes. Slowly, and painfully. The flames held no mercy, and neither did the crowd cheering the fire on.

As much as Magnus hated it, this was a familiar scene. Years ago, he would've been cheering with his fellow villagers, joining in the chants of "burn the witch!"

Then, he met Sigurd. Honest Sigurd. Caring Sigurd. Lovely Sigurd, who just so happened to be a witch.

Magnus was mad after Sigurd first told him-- he refused to talk to the someone he'd held so dear up until that point. He even considered turning Sigurd in. They could burn him, just for being a witch, though Sigurd had done no sins which would be unforgivable in the eyes of God and men.

And as days passed without seeing him, Magnus realised just how foolish he was for being mad at Sigurd for his paganism and magic. He came to realise that he would never willingly hurt Sigurd over anything, no matter how angry he felt, for however long. And regardless of how Magnus still felt that Sigurd was wrong for his beliefs, he still cared for him immensely, and could wait no longer to see him.

This revelation came a bit too late. When Magnus had burst into Sigurd's house, he wasn't there. By then, Sigurd had already been taken by the knights. Imprisoned, a burning for him scheduled the day after his capture. Magnus learned this soon after— news of the event spread quickly, people speaking of the burning as if it was something to make a day out of.

As Magnus stared at the upright wooden log before him that Sigurd would soon be tied to, he played the scenario through his head. Clearly, he didn't want this to happen, but he saw no way to stop it, so his mind simply tried to prepare him for the event by planting it in his mind.

Stuck in his thoughts, it was as if he could smell the smoke already.

The vivid imagery of Sigurd, his best friend and more, writhing in pain as he burned in front of a brainwashed people applauding his suffering was absolutely unbearable. It was all he could do to stop himself from collapsing onto the dry ground beneath him.

The reality of the situation set in, again and again.

'In a few minutes, Sigurd will be dead. I'll never see him again.

In a few moments, Sigurd will be gone. He'll never be able to live a full and fulfilling life.

In just a little while now, the only person I've ever longed for with heart and soul will be nothing but ashes in the wind. He will have died without knowing I love him..

If... I don't do something.'

-

There was no fullproof plan. There was no time to make even a semi-solid course of action. Magnus acted solely on instinct, the deafening haze in his mind dissipating for the first time today.

He moved out of the crowd as quickly as he could without drawing suspicion. The crowd was smaller than previous crowds Magnus had seen at burnings, but that was only because Sigurd had not been accused of anything. Yet. It wouldn't be unlikely to think that the executioner would pepper in a murder accusation or some other heinous crime to keep the people on their side during the cruelty they were about to witness. The thought of it all made Magnus bitter. To think that sheep could be lead by louder sheep into killing one of their own in cold blood.

He rushed off to where the witches were held, having known how to get there with ease. After all, he'd been a knight before himself. He used to be one of the bastards orchestrating these iniquities. The memories of it made him feel physically ill, and for a moment, he wondered if this nightmarish sequence reality had become was a divine deliverance of karma long due.

The only time he stopped moving was when he'd reached the holding cells. His heart was pounding, his breath stolen by distress, but he tried his damnedest to quiet himself as he leant against a cold, stone wall, listening for any guards. Immediately, he heard voices. Readying himself for a fight, he peaked over the edge of the cobblestone corner, finding three guards shoving Sigurd out of his cell. One even spit on him. And as much as he would've loved to yell at them and take his time beating their asses for mistreating Sigurd, he needed to take advantage of the distraction.

As he charged towards them, he wished he'd brought a weapon. Magnus figured he'd be able to pull a sword off of one of them, but knights wore armour even at times of peace, and their chainmail gave them a significant advantage, along with the number of them.

Still, the element of surprise helped Magnus effectively knock down one knight by charging into and shoving them. Magnus stomped on the knight's chest after he'd knocked him down to ensure he'd stay down for at least a few seconds longer. Taking the blade from the stunned knight was easier than he thought it'd be; perhaps, the knight's head had hit the floor too hard. It didn't seem he was getting up for at least the next two seconds, so Magnus took his blade and turned towards his other threats, who were, unfortunately, very aware of his presence now. In fact, one was already coming towards him, and slashed Magnus’ side with his sword.

Though Magnus wanted to seem invincible in attempt to intimidate his enemies, he couldn't stop himself from crying out from the sudden sharp pain. It wasn't deep enough to kill him right then, but it certainly could later if it wasn't taken care of. As badly as Magnus wanted to press his hand to his side to see how much it was bleeding, he decided he'd take a swing at the man in front of him while the other knight quite literally threw Sigurd back in his cell.

As one of the guards called out for help, he realised he had no time to waste here. Immediately, he went for one guard's throat, and, without checking if he'd landed the swing, he spinned around to his victim on the floor, stabbing him through the thigh. A thud soon told Magnus the fate of the guard he'd swung at, and he moved forward before turning back around to give him a bit more distance between the one knight left uninjured. He turned to see he'd narrowly missed a blade through the face, managing to get away with only a scrape across his cheek and nose. He moved to the left of his attacker, seeing as he'd backed himself into a wall, and got in a position to have a proper sword fight.

The knight before him lunged, sword first, to which Magnus responded by redirecting the blade with his own in a way that would not stab him. The other swordsman recovered from this change quickly and swung at Magnus again and again, seemingly with more fervor in every swing. For the entire time, Magnus had tuned out the words being thrown at him, the 'what are you doing?'s, 'halt!'s, and the like. But it was harder to ignore as it came from the person his attention was fixed on.

"You've killed two of our men. What kind of Christian are you?" The swordsman landed a hit on Magnus’ shoulder, earning another pained sound. "Are you a witch too now?"

This polarization hurt somewhere deep in Magnus. The knights were the men he'd worked with not so long ago, and he'd known some of them for years. Some knightly part of him, the part that had been loyal to only king and country, wondered if he was doing the right thing.

In spite of his doubts, Magnus did his best to fend him off and tried to get the upperhand. Nonetheless, he ended up cornered, his sword pressed against his enemy's so hard he worried it would break.

The opposing swordsman's blade was nearly at his throat, and for a while, it felt like it was only a matter of time before the sharp end plowed into his neck.

Then, by some miracle (or lack thereof), a sword from behind them both slashed into the knight's head, cutting the upper part his face in half. Magnus watched in shock, unsure if he should be horrified or thankful. The sheer force at which the man had been swung at launched his blood onto Magnus' face, which was just a bit traumatizing. The sword was pulled out of the man's head, and the body fell, revealing Sigurd to be the one behind the slashing. Magnus was relieved it wasn't some sort of invisible spirit, but surprised and intimidated at seeing Sigurd of all people do such a thing.

Sigurd's usually calm disposition was now shaken, and he looked even more traumatized than Magnus felt.

"Come on," Sigurd said with a soft, unsteady voice. "We have to go."

Magnus nodded, holding Sigurd's free hand with his own and beginning to pull him away from all the dead bodies they'd left.

"I know you're probably tired, but we're gonna have to run. It's our best bet to run into the woods to have the cover of greenery, and then make a more solid plan from there." Magnus spoke as he took off his tunic, wrapping it around his waist to cover the wound on his side. Then, he began to pick up his pace. He felt bad for making Sigurd exert himself, knowing that the knights don't give witches on death row any food, but he couldn't risk their safety by staying another second. Sigurd agreed to his plan, and they ran for the nearest part of the forest like their lives depended on it, because they kind of did.

Many minutes later, they reached the nearest part of the forest. They would've gotten there sooner if they ran in the open, but the pair had to take cover behind buildings and any large objects; after all, they were both wanted people now. They'd be killed on sight, and even on horses, most knights were accurate archers.

As soon as they'd jogged through the woods for a while, Magnus slowed to a stop. He turned to Sigurd, who turned back towards Magnus as soon as he'd noticed he was being looked at. Then, Magnus hugged Sigurd tightly, not giving him any time to react before the hug, nor giving him any space to breathe because of just how hard he squeezed Sigurd. Still, Sigurd accepted and reciprocated the hug, though he wasn't expecting anything like that from Magnus.

"I missed you so much. I'm so, so glad you're okay." Magnus buried his face in the crook of Sigurd's neck, grasping the back of his smock almost desperately. "I don't know what I would've done if you died. I don't think I could live without you." His last words left his mouth in a whisper, and he hadn't noticed he was tearing up until he felt himself start to cry.

"Magnus.." Sigurd responded softly, rubbing the other man's back for comfort.

Magnus didn't know about Sigurd, but he could've stayed like that for another ten minutes, silent or not. Still, he forced himself to let go, knowing they should keep moving. He did, however, let himself have a few moments to look at Sigurd silently, which Sigurd responded to by blushing.

Magnus didn't stop to think of the implications of Sigurd's blushing and instead opted for holding his hand and starting to walk again. Despite his confusion, Sigurd let his fingers intertwine with Magnus’, his heart beating a little faster.

"How are you doing?" Magnus asked with all the tenderness of a homemade pillow. He glanced at Sigurd when talking to him, otherwise eyeing the trees and bushes before them for anything that looked edible.

"I'm alright. Just a bit tired." That was an understatement. Sigurd felt like he was seconds from falling down, lightheaded and perhaps a bit dizzy. Magnus noticed how unsteady his walk seemed and put an arm around him.

"You sure?"

"I'm kind of hungry, too." Sigurd added softly, thankful that Magnus gave him help with walking without him having to ask for it. Somehow, it made it feel less degrading.

They walked quietly for a while, Magnus scanning the greenery around them anxiously for something to eat. Still, the forest seemed barren of fruit, and to make matters worse, the cut in his side was throbbing rather painfully. He didn't look at Sigurd at all as they treaded along the forest, courtesy of a question that had been bubbling in his stomach ever since he learned of Sigurd's capture. Eventually, the boiling in his stomach became too much to bare and he decided to ask him.

"Hey, Sig?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I didn't.. tell them about you, right? About the magic?"

"I know you didn't." Sigurd said solemnly, looking towards the ground. Magnus was initially relieved by those words, but as he saw Sigurd's expression, he began to worry again.

"That's good, but.. how did you know?"

"I turned myself in."

Magnus' face fell. He stopped walking, only staring at Sigurd with wide eyes. Sigurd met those wide eyes with his own, revealing to Magnus a more troubled state of mind than he'd originally let on.

A beat of silence passed before Magnus worked up the will to ask why. The only answer he got was silence, and Sigurd turned away from him.

"Sigurd, please tell me."

"I was just depressed, and I made a stupid decision because of it..." Sigurd's voice got quieter with every word he let out.

"Because of me?" Magnus asked hesitantly, unsure if he should've even asked, because he felt his heart drop into his stomach acid after Sigurd nodded. Guilt began to bloom and crawl about uncomfortably in his insides, manifesting outwards in the way his face saddened, and the way he began to hold Sigurd in another, more gentle hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm the biggest idiot in the world, but I swear I'll do everything in the world that I can to make it up to you. If.. if you'll forgive me." Magnus stumbled on the last bit, terrified at the idea that he might've damaged his and Sigurd's relationship permanently. However, his fears were soon quieted; Sigurd returned the hug even more tenderly, rubbing Magnus' back with one of his hands slowly.

"I have nothing to forgive you for. This is all my fault." Sigurd stated in a matter-of-factly manner, resting his head against Magnus' warm shoulder.

"That's not true.. please don't take the blame for this." Magnus pleaded with Sigurd softly, shutting his eyes as he pulled him a little closer. Sigurd didn't respond, wanting to pass out in the comfortable embrace rather than fight about whose fault this was. Thankfully, Magnus didn't force the topic for now, and simply stayed quiet as Sigurd basked in his warmth.

"Sigurd?" Magnus spoke up after a while. The person in question tensed slightly, yanked out of his mental relaxation.

Despite the tension in his body, Sigurd was still tired, so he opted to respond with a small "hm?"

"I know this might not be the best time to say this, but I want to be with you."

Sigurd didn't react to those words for the first few seconds after he'd heard them, merely because he couldn't yet process what they meant. As soon as the fog in his mind cleared though, he jolted slightly.

"Come again?" Sigurd questioned for further clarification, wondering if Magnus meant what he thought he meant.

"Well, I.. I think I love you. No, wait, I know I do. I understand if you're not okay with that, but.." Magnus paused, his cheeks tinting themselves with a rosy pink. "I just wanted to let you know." He looked away from Sigurd, preparing himself for a brutal rejection.

Instead, he got a kiss on the cheek. It was chaste, soft, and best of all, it was from Sigurd. He felt the temperature of his face rise as he looked over at Sigurd with shock written all over his face.

"Let's talk about this more when we're not in danger of being killed by bloodthirsty knights." Sigurd said with a small smile. Magnus was dumbfounded by the events that had just transpired, so he settled for a nod.

They continued walking on again, aimlessly, but a bit more hopeful. It didn't take long until Sigurd was stumbling instead of walking, and Magnus started to worry about the possibility of him overexerting himself to a dangerous extent. So, he picked up Sigurd bridal style, clearly surprising the smaller man.

"You should go ahead and get some rest." Magnus told Sigurd with a soft smile. The wound in Magnus’ side moaned within his body, making what was once a dull pain sharp once more, but Magnus smiled through the pain to keep Sigurd from worrying.

"Are you sure..?" Sigurd felt a bit guilty for burdening Magnus with the task of taking care of him, but even more than that, he felt weak. Tired.

"Absolutely! You're as light as a feather."

Sigurd was, in fact, not as light as a feather, but Magnus would never purposely make Sigurd feel like a burden. Sigurd uttered a hushed, tentative "okay" before letting his eyes flutter shut. Magnus smiled down at him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't worry Sig, we're gonna be okay."

#i think this is awful but yknow what? it's done and i had fun writing it for the most part #avalonic oneshots #avalonic writing #dennor #dennor week #dennor week 2019 #dennor week 19 #uhh i hope those are the right tags #i got a lot of catching up to do- #aph denmark #aph norway #medieval au #i spent d a y s writing things #3000+ words lets go!!!!! #hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #axis powers hetalia #ok there was a glitch or i just made a mistake where i duplicated the beginning part of the oneshot but i fixed it now

[mediocregeek-blog]

Ike and Camilla C-S Support

I know that this is longer than the standard the Support...but whatever.

C Support

Camilla:  Oh Ike, dear!  You were just the man I was looking for. Ike:  Ah, Princess Camilla.  What can I do for you? Camilla:  A notorious hero such as yourself doesn't need to be so formal with me.  Your legends speak volumes.  Please, just address me as Camilla. Ike:  Very well then, what can I do for you Camilla? Camilla:  You are a Legendary Hero correct? Ike:  Legendary?  I'm not so sure about that. Camilla:  Handsome and humble, I like that.  But please, don't be afraid to embrace yourself. Ike:  Embrace? Camilla:  Never the matter.  I am here in regards of working together.  We have been put together on a team after all.  What's better than learning to enjoy each other's company? Ike:  That's not a bad idea.  It'd be smart to understand each other as people to better benefit our battle techniques. Camilla:  Wonderful!  So, how about you and I go for a walk.  I can introduce you to my favorite sibling, Corrin, and we'd have the greatest of times! Ike:  Right, you're Corrin's sister. Camilla:  Oh, it would be a wonderful time!  Come now Ike!  I can tell you all about Corrin. Ike:  How will...what just happened?

B Support

Camilla:  Ah!  Ike, I knew I would find you training out here.  Working up quite the sweat aren't you?  Hehe. Ike:  Camilla, what brings you out here? Camilla:  You've been so absorbed with training that you had missed meal time, so I thought I would bring this to you and take the opportunity to speak with you more. Ike:  Thank you Camilla, I appreciate it. Camilla:  Of course, can't let the Radiant Hero go hungry after all.  Might I train with you?  I would love to learn how your body moves in combat even better. Ike:  You want to train with me?  OK.

*Some times passes*

Camilla:  You sure got me worked up!  I could use a nice hot bath after that. Ike:  The Nohrian combat style is very different than what I'm used to seeing.  It was a great learning experience nonetheless.  You are quite the powerful woman. Camilla:  Most people find me rather intimidating, you have not displayed that towards me. Ike:  We're all people with our specific qualities, for you I have nothing to be intimidated by.  Despite your flaws, I can tell you're a good person under it all. Camilla:  Flaws?  Oh, whatever do you mean by that?  Is there a problem with the way I fight? Ike:  No, it's not that.  You have a strong presence in combat and as a person.  You would be quite unforgettable. Camilla:  Ohoho, unforgettable?  To the Radiant Hero?  Well, you may have earned a place in my heart just under my lovely siblings.  Speaking of my siblings, might I say that I appreciated your company the other day.  I do hope you enjoyed your time with me and Corrin. Ike:  About that-- Camilla:  Isn't Corrin just perfect? Ike:  May I ask what is it that draws you towards Corrin? Camilla:  Oh my, how straightforward!  Well, what does not draw me to my lovely sibling?  Corrin is just so adorable that I can't help loving them! Ike:  I see.  Have you not thought that your affection towards Corrin is a bit overbearing? Camilla:  I beg your pardon!? Ike:  Even to a stranger's eye, your doting ways are bordering upon overly obsessive.  Some say it's hard to get a word in with you without you mentioning Corrin at times. Camilla:  Y-You dare to..! Ike:  You may hate the words I'm saying, but you cannot deny there is truth behind them.  I'm merely attempting to understand who you are and why you do the things you do. Camilla:  You insult me!  You do not deserve any mercy, you dare speak to me that way?  This is how you repay me after I come to take care of you and trained with you? Ike:  Camilla I- Camilla:  You best not speak to me unless you want those shoulders to lose that cute head of yours.

*Camilla leaves*

Ike:  Gods...

A Support

Camilla:  Ike, I've been looking for you. Ike:  Oh, Camilla.  I've wanted to find you as well and apologize for last time.  I came off insensitive.  That wasn't my intention. Camilla:  I appreciate your apology, I came here so I can explain why I care so much for Corrin. Ike:  You don't have to.  I understand Corrin is a very important person in your life.  That much is needed for me. Camilla:  No, I will explain to you why Corrin is important to me.  It will not be long before we are sent to the battlefield together again, so I must relieve the tension between us. Ike:  Then I'm all ears. Camilla:  My mother was not a wonderful woman.  She was a concubine for my father, King Garon of Nohr.  All of the concubines used their children to gain favor of King Garon.  They were unkind and only acted selfishly so they would be at the throne.  I am the eldest daughter of King Garon and my younger siblings, Leo and Elise, looked to me for comfort when they couldn't with their own mothers.  To fulfill the role that my mother never was for me, I became the loving, caring sister.  Corrin arrived at our castle and was never allowed to leave.  Corrin was so scared and frightened.  I had to be the loving figure for Corrin that I was for the rest of my siblings.  Corrin was forced to be secluded, therefore I had to take care of Corrin.  I had to be the loving sister.  To fill in that empty void where a family's love should be, I needed to fill that void for Corrin.   Ike:  Gods... Camilla:  So, do you now understand why it is that I care for Corrin and the rest of my siblings? Ike:  I can understand it to an extend.  And I can understand you better.  Although, your behavior is still a bit.. Camilla:  After speaking with you, I have adjusted how I act ever so slightly.  Of course, Corrin had to agree to your words.  However, I’m here today because I wanted you to understand that Corrin is important to me and why that it is. Ike:  You are quite the strong woman and not just physically.  I can understand why Corrin is important to you, although your behavior is still a bit questionable to me. Camilla:  My protectiveness is a quality that not many are fond of, even Corrin at times.  But it is who I am. Ike:  I can accept that.  No need to further explain yourself.  I appreciate you telling me about your past, it's not an easy thing to do. Camilla:  You have quite the history as well.  I've only heard bits and pieces from several people, but no one has quite told me what it is that you have gone through yourself.  I would appreciate if you could tell me so I can better understand you. Ike:  Very well.  I lost my father.  He died in front of my eyes and his killer was too much for me at the time.  Rage would have consumed me if it weren't for my sister, Titania, and the rest of the company.  With my father's death, he had me fill in his position as the leader of the Greil Mercenaries.  Since then, I have grown and became the man I am today.  Despite many rightfully doubting my capabilities and the suffering I had over the loss of my father, I became stronger because of it. Camilla:  So you had lost your father...what about your mother? Ike:  She died when I was a child, too young to even be able to wield a sword.  She was slain by my father. Camilla:  She was what!? Ike:  My mother carried a medallion with her, it was a gift according to her as well as a song.  The medallion could only be touched and held by someone of balance.  My father unfortunately had touched the medallion and went on a rampage.  Only my mother was able to stop him by grabbing the medallion, but also falling to the very sword that I wield. Camilla:  You poor thing!

*Camilla hugs Ike*

Ike:  Gah!  Camilla, what are you- Camilla:  Shh...  Ike it's okay. Ike:  I can assure you that I'm fine Camilla.  No need to do this. Camilla:  But you have lived without a mother for so long!  And to have seen your father be the one to-oh!  I just cannot begin to imagine it. Ike:  I grew and learned from it all.  There's no need to feel bad for me. Camilla:  But how could I not?  You have been through so much. Ike:  Well, I could say the same to you.  We have all gone through our particular struggles and pains, but it's up to us to move on and learn from it all. Camilla:  Yes, you're quite right Ike.  Thank you. Ike:  For what? Camilla:  For helping me understand that I must continue to grow.  And sharing your life with me. Ike:  Well, it's no problem. Camilla:  Handsome and humble, what a deadly combination hehe.

S Support

Camilla:  Ike, sweetie, what's wrong?  You appear to have something on your mind.  Is something bothering you since our last encounter? Ike:  No, it's not that.  We learned a lot about each other.  We have a lot more in common that many would think. Camilla:  Darling, is this your way of wanting to eat steak?  If so, all you needed to do is ask hehe. Ike:  No no, this is not about food.  Well, maybe a little.  Other than steak, I heard that you're also quite fond of sweets. Camilla:  Oh!  Ike this is quite the assortment of sweets.  I've never seen anything like it. Ike:  Anna told me these assortments are popular in this world.  She definitely could not recommend it enough, although I'm starting to wonder if it was because I was buying it from her supply. Camilla:  This is wonderful, thank you!  Oh come here!

*Camilla hugs Ike*

Camilla:  Why the gift?  Last I checked it wasn't my birthday. Ike:  After this, we may have to return to our respective worlds.  After having to get to know you, it's a shame that we cannot continue to fight together after our time here. Camilla:  I dread even the thought of having to leave, but you are correct.  One day we will have to separate and return home.  It will not be an easy day for any of us. Ike:  Right, so I thought giving you a gift could help you remember me.  However, now in actual thought, sweets might not be the best type of gift to give to someone as a reminder. Camilla:  No, it is a wonderful gift!  I do hate the thought of leaving you now!  You're just so adorable that it would be difficult to let go! Ike:  You are a true friend Camilla.  More so than that I would think. Camilla:  What ever do you mean by that?  Oh my!  Is this a confession from the Radiant Hero? Ike:  We have fought together many times, seen and talked to each other more than I initially would've thought.  You've grown to be quite important to me. Camilla:  Ike...you have become important to me as well. Ike:  I thought we best make with what time we have left with each other the best we can.  We don't know when we will be done here, so if you would like to...I'd like to spend more time with you outside of the battlefield. Camilla:  Oh my!  Ike, are you blushing? Ike:  Gah...  I am not the best with words. Camilla:  You are so adorable.  Ike, I would gladly spend more time with you.  You have a place in my heart as equal to my siblings. Ike:  From you, that is quite possibly the highest form of a compliment I could possibly get. Camilla:  So what do your propose we shall do darling? Ike:  I had heard from those of your world that you are quite fond of baths.  So I thought, that maybe.  Gods...  I am really not the best with words. Camilla:  Then I'll speak for you.  Shall we go to the hot spring?

#fire emblem #fe #Ike #camilla #supports #gaming #writing #Fire Emblem Heroes #FE Heroes #feh #my favorite crack ship #path of radiance #radiant dawn #fates #conquest #birthright #revelations #let the hate come in...

[unholyhelbiglinked]

For Better Or Worse | 006

CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START

The room smelled like a hockey rink- it’s scent thick of plastic, a sweet edge making my mouth water as I caught a good whiff of the hot-dog stands a few blocks down. This was a part of town that none of us really ventured to anymore- not recently. The small string of shops was an attempt by the Mayor to make us a tourist attraction, but it really just brought unwanted loitering by a bunch of teenagers.

I remembered the first time Jesse and I had rolled up to the Hot Shot. Our legs were sore and sweat dripped against every inch of our exposed skin. It was the summer before Junior year- neither of us having anything more than a learner’s permit. We resorted to bikes then- mine a deep rusty red like my truck while his sparkled in blue paint in the sun.

Neither of us had any money on us, but we had heard of a little place on the edge of town that allowed paintball. Even with our hearts pounding in our ears we could smell the paint and hear the subtle click of the triggers. It was exhilarating, even if we just leaned against our forms of transportation and watched paint covered people exit the arena with shit-eating grins on their faces.

We saved up the whole entire summer and bought an hour game the night before classes began again. Each of us digging in couch cushions and taking odd jobs cutting peoples lawns in the hot sun. The hits burned more after all that exposure, but we had a blast- everything was worth it.

Today was a different story. Part of me was holding resentment towards the girl who stood next to me with her hands in her pockets and lips pursed. She had her chin lifted like she was better than me. She was, by all rights, better than me. Keeping up with Aubrey Posen in the standards department.

The blonde was poking her tongue out of her lips as she fastened the belt around her waist, keeping the camouflage pants against her hips. The black form-fitting t-shirt that hugged her sides did so well. She looked like her father, a military man that I had only met once. I averted my gaze, rolling up my own sleeves to meet my elbows as Chloe struggled to lace up her shoes.

Stacie struggled with zipping up her own pants, letting out a struggled grumble as she stuck her lower lip out to pout. It brought a sly smile to my face, seeing a long-time friend completely out of her element. The locker room keeping an odd chill to it.

“I don’t understand how you think this is fun,” Chloe mumbled, pulling at her laces with exasperation. I didn’t glance her way, instead training my gaze on Aubrey giving up and helping Stacie with her own situation.

She was laughing, a smile on her lips as she threw her head back and laughed, getting a good look at Amy who looked ready enough to begin the game. The shorter blonde had a thick fire in her eyes that made me recoil to a certain extent. I didn’t want to get in that girl's line of fire, not on or off of the battlefield.

“Oh, I don’t think it matters how I feel,” I said, a bit of condescension in my voice as I lowered myself onto the bench next to Chloe, starting to look down at my untied boots. Her body was hot close to mine, but I was getting used to it. Chloe on the other hand stiffened. “Do you see how happy she is?”

The red-head let out a sigh. Aubrey did look happy. Both of us were fairly certain of that. The blonde had her arm on Stacie’s shoulder, shaking her head as the disoriented brunette blushed under the embarrassment of having so much trouble with a simple belt and zipper. My stare shifted slightly as I watched Chloe, a wonderment finding it’s way to her features as she watched her friend.

“Just let loose and shoot some things, Beale.” I let a smirk press against my lips as I handled her the paint gun, it clicked against her grasp, her fingers twitching around the weapon as she shook her head.

“I don’t see any targets painted on your back.”

I growled as I stood, not really wanting to feed into her snarky comments today. I knew that I was a better shot than this woman from the city, and at this point, that’s all that mattered. That and Aubrey. I didn’t even know why I was spending so much time trying to impress this woman, but I was. I had to.

“Mouse!” Amy said from her leaned up positioned at the locker, I fought off the urge to roll my eyes at the woman, knowing that her famous grilled cheeses were worth the nicknames that I had earned for myself. “How about a little wager?”

“Oh no,” I held my free hand up, the weapon hanging by my side. “I am not falling into that trap.”

“If you get three good hits than I’ll strike your tab.”

I snapped my head up, narrowing my eyes as Aubrey’s mouth made an “O” shape. I had seen the girl grow competitive before, many times before. She loved to bet for things like this and she was like a fly to peanut butter at this point, silently leaning forward to see if I would stake it all. I licked my lips.

“What happens if I don’t?”

“I get the Poseidon for a day.” Amy grinned.

I clenched my eyes shut, squeezing the bridge of my nose as I weighed my options. The tab had run up pretty high and I had been coming here for years- but Amy? Amy was something else. I could barely get anything out of her about her past. “If you fuck on my couch-“

“Whoa, relax Shawshank!” The girl held her hands up in resilience “I miss sailing, alright? Three shots.”

Another slight growl moved away from my lips as I swallowed roughly. Aubrey lifted a brow as Chloe crossed her arms over her chest: Both watching to see what I would do. I quickly stuck my hand up, the ginger throwing her head back in exasperation as Aubrey whispered a small victory cry at the little wager.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Amy smirked as she took my head, squeezing it slightly with that same salty look in her eyes.

Chloe’s arm wrapped around my mid-section as she dug her nails roughly into my skin. She wasn’t short on pushing her whole entire weight on me, my jaw clenched as the cool mud that mixed with bright orange paint coated my exposed skin.

I bit the inside of my lip, feeling the sting as I didn’t falter from her grasp. She was in a lot more pain than I was, coated entirely in mud as she hopped along on one foot- the wet pavement not giving us much mercy as the scent of asphalt filled my lungs.

“Ow, ow, ow” The red-head mumbled through choked sobs that set blurred streaks across her cheeks. “Fuck.”

I knit my eyebrows together as the cold edge of the emergency room instantly washed over the two of us. She shivered into me, her other arm draped over my shoulders as I let out a small groan, setting her on the closest chair with a huff.

She was angry, her eyes forged in rage as she fought through the pain that was no doubt rushing through her leg at this point. Amy having ambushed the two of us out of nowhere. Not only did I piss off my supposed partner- but I also was in desperate need of stitches, Chloe close to breaking her ankle.

The receptionist lifted her eyes towards the window, no hint of amusement against her features as she leaned back in her hair, pushing a clipboard towards me. “Alright, G.I Joe, fill out both of your Insurance information and we’ll get a doctor to see you soon.”

I nodded, swallowing the dry taste against my lips instead of paying attention to the looks the two of us were getting. It appeared that the two of us had been mud wrestling instead of playing a simple game of paintball.

I lowered myself into the seat next to Chloe, handing the paperwork as she let out a small mumble before creasing her brow and focusing on the questions that she could answer in her sleep. Her foot was outstretched in front of her, my phone buzzing in my pocket.

STACE [5:08pm]

I’ll take care of Addy tonight, she’s got that book Aubrey gave her. Just keep us updated.

BECA[5:12pm]

Oh my god, you’re a life saver, tell Aubrey I’m so sorry.

STACE[5:13pm]

For what? She’s still laughing her ass off. Maybe next time don’t challenge professional marksmen to a pissing contest? See you tomorrow, Becs.

I groaned, shaking my head as I shoved my slowly dying phone into my pocket. Stacie was good on her word, I knew she would keep Addison calm and collected for a few hours while I struggled with my own fear of needles and hospitals in general. My mind racing as Chloe stayed silent. It was the longest she ever had, clearly in pain.

“Hey, it was a dumb idea,” I said smoothly, finally admitting it to myself as the minutes ticked by.

“Challenging Amy or paintball in general?”

“Both?” I sounded out. Not sure which one I wanted to stake my claim to. Either way, I expected her to yell a little more than she was. To scream or something in that snarky tone that she carried. Instead, she blinked at the fluorescent lights that hung above us. She let out a breath, closing her eyes.

I placed my hands in my lap, stare darting each time a doctor dared to walk by. I hated this place- the way the carpets looked so much like a movie theater, the way antiseptic burned against my lungs and lights lit up long corridors that were lined with prints of famous paintings. My heart pounded each time an employee passed by, finally filling my ears as someone caught my attention.

The blonde’s face lit up as I gave her a slight nod. She was talking to another doctor, her hand holding a file as she closed it, excusing herself from her conversation as my uncomfortable shift stirred Chloe a bit- but not enough to get the girl to open her eyes.

“Beca Mitchell,” Her dark blue scrubs contrasted roughly with her grey gaze. She looked good. Different, but good. Jessica had such a young look about her, one that caught my attention constantly.

Chloe had finally sat up, drawing in a breath as she sat herself up, eyes tired, but amused by the interaction.

“How have you been?” She took in my appearance “Keeping yourself busy, I see?”

“Oh, this?” I raised my fingers to the cut that ran itself against my forehead, the blood having slowed as I smeared it away. “Just a little light-hearted game of paintball.”

The doctor laughed, her eyes flicking towards Chloe for a few moments before she moved her attention back to me, holding out her hands. “Can I see them?”

I stared at her for a few moments, understanding exactly what she met as the girl next to me lifted her chin slightly, biting her lip despite the thick taste of soil and water. Eventually, I relented, feeling the pressure of the situation.

Jessica’s touch was soft as she grasped my hands, ignoring the dirt under my nails as she ran her hands over the scars that were against my palms. They were distorted and burned, something that Chloe hadn’t noticed- something I never wanted to talk about. The skin was bumpy and pink- layered from grafting and surgeries that Jessica had performed herself.

“You healed well,” She said with a smile. “I trust I can count on our appointment in a few months.”

I nodded politely, thanking her again before she nodded at Chloe and walked away, her shoes clicking against the stupid carpet. I wish they were louder, my focus being on her steps instead of Chloe’s toxic stare melting the side of my skull.

“The fire, it uh” I spoke, voice cracking as I mentally cursed myself, not looking towards Chloe. “It affected my hands first, you know? I reached right into the flames, not even registering how damaging it could really be.”

The silence was enough to make self-doubt twist against my stomach, my own stare focused on the very hands that caused me so many issues.

“Beca,” She whispered, her own voice ruined as I breathed in the scent of soil.

“Chloe Beale.” The very receptionist that had given me the paperwork now stood by a wooden door, her own file in her hands as she searched the sea of people in the waiting room. I sniffed slightly, finally meeting the woman’s gaze.

“Looks like you’re up, Red.”    

#Bechloe #bechloe fic rec #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fanfiction