#also those like. gasping and shaking sobs. goddamn. holy fuck

[t4tstarvingdog]

okay now that i’m more awake. chimney begins and the episode right after it have been my favourite so far and maddy’s actor is. fucking incredible oh my god

[angelwars11]

PART 1

*finally gets my siblings up and we all sit down on the bed* Alright y'all, time to watch this shit. Let's get itttt!!

*new ominous pre-intro comes in* "A LUCASFILM LIMITED production. "

Me: Oh, we starting like this. Wtf!! Okay, dude, I have goosebumps. Holy shit. *Calming facade is down. Is totally unaware and unprepared for what's coming*

*fanfare jumpscare*

Me: *startles* *grabs my heart*

Heart monitor: *beep beep beep, beeeeeeeeeeep~*

Me: OH MY GOD!!! *cough violently like Grevious* Holy shit. The fanfare, holy shit. I'mma—*notices red logo* *starts to hyperventilate*

*Another very different and new red title* "Part 1. Olds Friends Not Forgotten. "

Me: *gasps sharply* THAT IS SO COOL!!! I'mma cryyy *sniffles*

Yularen: *comes in clutch with the narrator recap*

Me: Yoooo!! What's up my dude?!

*see Grevious* Damn, I mean, General Grevious lookin good though. You see that animation! DAMN! Best design ever!

Yularen: "Republic forces are pushed to the brink. In response to this overwhelming attack. The Jedi Council had dispatched it's Generals far from the Core Worlds. "

CALEB DUME aka. KANAN JARRUS!! Ahhh!! Look at my son!

*sees Plo Koon in his Delta 7 inteceptor* "Ummm, no, stop it. Stop. That looks familiar. *shakes head violently* No. Be quiet.

*sees Aayla and Bly* *inhales sharply* *chokes on saliva* "Aayla Secura is where? OH SHIT. Is that Felucia?! NO, FUCK. "

(The clone troopers look so fucking amazing. Their armor is heavily detailed with the amount of scratches and dents covering them. It makes their armor look rough. OMG! This is literally 'nose bleed heaven' I am in right now!!)

Me: *dances* They onn a bridgeee, they on a—HOLY SHIT!! That's a big ass cannon," *watches the cannon blast fire upwards* Ohhhhh~ That's, uh, not good! Oh shit!! AH! Cody DODGE NOW!!!

*stares at the tv* Holy. Sh—

*light saber unleashed*

Me: OOhhh!! Who the fu—ACK! Obi-Wan coming out of the CUT alllll BEAUTIFUL!!!

LOOK at the lightsaber light pouring through the dust cloud surrounding him🤩 *blood pours out of my nose* His magnificent graying beard, so beautiful. I LOVE how there's a limp piece of hair bouncing on the side of his head, it's so satisfying. And the way he slowly looks over his shoulder at Cody like: "Must protect my husband!" OMG, I love them so much, CodyWan forever!!! Bless Dave Filoni for giving us that scene because, it was beautiful😍 God, the animation. 😍I'mma—😵😳

Cody: "General?!"

Me: MmmmmHmmmm. *wiggles eyebrows*

Obi-Wan: "Cody, get down!"

Me: Protect Cody!! Holy fu—Cody, stop staring at Obi-Wan and take cover, yes I know he's hot as fuck, my sister thinks so too, so do I—That's NOT the point. Just GET your ASS DOWN!! You can stare at him all you want later.

Obi-Wan: "Anakin, where are you?"

Anakin: *jump scares* "I'm right here. "

Me: ⬇⬇

Me: I SWEARRRR. You are so lucky I don't have a gun because I would've BLASTED you to the other side of this GODDAMN BRIDGE. The fuck is wrong with you, you lucky mother fucker.

Anakin: "What are you doing down there. "

Me: 🤣🤡 Shut the fuck up!

Anakin: *dodges a fucking blaster beam* I'm dea—🤣 ANAKIN. You cray cray!

*all shots miss Anakin while he stands right there in plain sight on top of MOTHER FUCKING debris*

Me: Hehhehehheeee—OH my GoD!! Anakin!! Get DOWN FROM THEREeEe. They gonna shoot you, bro!

Obi-Wan: "What are you up to? Where is Captain Rex?"

Me: Yeah, what are you up to? *suspicious*

*Nobody stays seated while Anakin walks straight at the enemy. Managing not to get fucking smacked*

Me: "Y'all DUMB ASS droids can't SHOOT!! Ohhhhhh myyyy goddddd!!" 🤣🤣

Anakin: "I have come to surrender. Your forces fought valiantly. I must admit we are overmatched by your superior fire power. " Me: "Tell me y'all ain't gonna fall for this. If you beli—"

Me: *inhales sharply*

Dumb and Dumber: "Surrender. That's a relief. Notify the tactical droid. "

Me: ⬇⬇

*sighs heavily* They believed him. 💀

*scope shows up* The fuck?! Oh, is that Rexy Boi™ *gasps* R2!!!

Rex telling his squad they have to wait a little longer to hang upside down on the bridge. They all *groan* "Sir, yes, sir. "

ME: 😆 They want to fly so fucking badly!!

OoooWe!! They've got JET PACKS!!! Oooo, we bougie MOTHER FUCKAASSSSS!!! *dances to the epic music*

*nobody stays seated while the Clone Troopers kick ass*

Obi-Wan: "Bravo Anakin, you've done it again. "

Me: 🥺🥺

Anakin: "Oh, I can't take all the credit. You staying back really sold my surrender talk. " *Obi-Wan smiles*

Obi-Wan: "Always glad to help my friend. " *they smile at each other*

Also me: *cries internally* 😭😍

Anakin: "Skywalker here, what is it Admiral?" Me: *gasps* Admiral: "Sir. We received a transmission from someone using a subspace frequency. Fulcrum. "

Me: *stops breathing* FULCRUM. 💀 Ah—Ah—AhCHOO! *wheezes* Oooh, bless me.

*the transmitter room scene from the trailer* Me: *screeches* Anakin: "Alright, Admiral. What's so important you brought us all the... Way... Back...here." *sees Ahsoka*

(*PAUSE* I noticed that Rex is not here in this SCENE!! Woahhh~ Just wanted to point that out! Okay, sorry, *unpause*)

Ahsoka: *turns around* "Hello Master. It's been a while. " Me: 😍😍😍😍😍

Anakin: "Ah—Ahsoka. Wha— *scoffs*I don't believe it, " *voice goes two octaves higher* "How are you? Where are you?" *voice softens to be protective* "Are you okay?"

My heart: ⬇⬇

(SKIP)

*Mandalorian ship comes in* Me: *tears coming down my face*

Aaaahhhh!!! R2 D2 rolled up to Ahsoka to say hi!! OMG, cutie pie!!😍🥺 My heartttttt😭

Anakin tries to say Hi to Ahsoka but she's just like, "Can't do that right now. " Me: *snaps my own neck* Damn. Heyo!! He's literally hanging by a THREAD, a measly THREAD over the fucking pool called the DARK SIDE. And you treating him like that, focusing on the war and not a hug, mannn, Anakin is about to take a 'dippity dip' in this goddamn pool. Smh.

Bo-Katan: "He murdered their ruler. My sister. I thought she meant something to you. "

Me: *visibly sees Obi-Wan look sad* Satineeeee😭😭😭 No, Obi-Wan, it's okay!!

(SKIP)

*when the troopers pass by and salute to Ahsoka* Me: UwU

REX'S SMILE 👑 when she walks in😍 "Glad to have you back, Commander. " *smiles again* 👑 "Rex. Thank you. But you don't have to call me Commander anymore. " "Sure thing, Commander." *smiles AGAIN* 👑

Me: 😭😭 Rex, I SWEAR TO GOD, if you don't stop SMITING me with those SMILES BRO. Just chill. Please. Do it again and I'—

*alarm goes off* God fucking dammit. *sees the troopers scrambling in the background* HAHAHHAHHA😆😆🤣

*stops laughing* Who's in trouble? The Chancellor. Hahahaha, who's that? Ohhh, you mean Buttcheeksakin. Yeahhh~🤣 Nobody cares!!

Ahsoka: "I understand, that it's your usual playing politics. This is why the people have lost faith in the Jedi. I had too. Until I was reminded of what the order means to people who truly need us. "

Obi-Wan: "Right now people on Coruscant need us. "

Ahsoka: "No, the Chancellor needs you. "

Me: *nose bleed* "Damnnnn, say it again for the people in the back!!! Ughh, feisty Ahsoka is sexy. " 😍

REX GETTING WHAAA, PROMOTED?! I knew this day was coming for sooo long *sniffles* I'm so proud.

*music heightens it's pitch* HER LIGHTSABERS😭😭😭

Ahsokaaaa got her lightsabers BACK!! Looking snazzyyyy, looking beautiful, you look hot honey! And a BONUS, they are BLUE!! Hot DAMN!! 💙💙

Ahsoka: "Anakin... " *Anakin turns around* "Good luck. " *Anakin smiles with pride*

Me: *ugly sobs*

*Nobody stays seated while, 'Love pledge' plays in the background*

Me: *cries harder* WHYYYY😭😭😭

'Commander' REX. Whereeee areee youuu?! Ah, there you darling. Beautiful bby boyyyy, you deserve it!!! 😍😍😍

*spots someone behind Rex* Who Issss...?? Oh, JESSE!! Heyyy~ *waves* ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡ )

Rex: "Sorry, I didn't think to bring you a jetpack?" Ahsoka: "Don't need one. " *Nobody will ever fucking stay seated while Rex gives the mother of all amused smirks* 👑

(THIS beautiful smirk⬆ I know I WILL be watching 60 more times after I finish this goddamn episode 🥵)

PART 2 of my reaction coming soon!! (Nah, I'm serious, it'll be here. Just hold your horses!)

Link to part 2!! ⬇

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 2 : Section 4 : Lights in the Darkness

To regain his control, Anti forced Dapper back into a more compliant headspace and exerted a great deal of mental energy to put him and Trick back in their places. Things are tense and painful day-to-day, but fortunately, they have something coming up for all of them to look forward to.

Trigger warnings for abuse, mentions of overdose and suicide, and violence.

Find Chapter One here.

Find Chapter Two here.

 Section Four of Chapter Two: Lights in the Darkness

Anonymous asked: DAPPER HOLY SHIT I MEAN GOOD FOR YOU KICK HIS ASS BUT ALSO MAYBE DON'T DO THAT CAUSE YOU MIGHT DIE OR GET PUNISHED AND THAT'S NOT GONNA HELP YOUR CASE AND AS MUCH AS I WANNA ENCOURAGE YOU I ABSOLUTELY IMPLORE YOU TO PLEASE CALM THE FUCK DOWN

Dapper is shaking when your view returns.

He wears a black vest buttoned up tight over a clean white shirt. There is a tie around his throat, and a black dog’s collar beneath the tie. His hands are still tied, but looser now, letting his hands slump, letting the blood return to his fingertips.

He’s looking at you, but not looking at you.

Die or get punished? Die or get punished? No, no, no, he doesn’t want that, of course he doesn’t want that… He wouldn’t want to do anything to upset his master… No, he’s a better puppy than that, surely.

Anonymous asked: yo please leave dapper alone? you did kind of deserve that slap tbh, and besides it wasn't really his fault. just don't hurt him or ruin his shit or whatever goddamnit

“L-look,” comes a raspy, shaking voice.

A hand appears on your screen and runs its fingers through Dapper’s hair, tugging at the soft, downy curls.

Dapper smiles sweetly, letting his eyes slip shut as he’s petted.

“Hurt him? Ruin him? No… no… he’s better now, you see… I just have to… I just…”

Soft coughing interrupts Anti and he staggers away.

the-weirdest-fan asked: *applause* Very immersive! Though the message is a bit predictable, sometimes that's a good thing! Good preformance!

“Predictable,” mumbles Anti weakly. “No, I don’t want… hate… fucking circles.”

You watch him stumble against his bed, his face completely bloodless, his eyes glazed over and drifting.

“Anti?” whimpers Trick, poking his head up on the other side of the bed, that yellow collar fastened tight around his throat. “Master? You okay?”

cest-mellow asked: anti what happened to you...?

“Get… get… nothing, nothing, turn - turn the camera off again.”

He waves his hand, grimacing, as if to switch you off, but there’s no effect. Wringing his hands like a nervous little kid, Trick gets up to go to his side. He sets a steadying hand on Anti’s shoulder and his brother leans into it, listing as his eyes droop and his form flickers.

“Anti, you’re scaring me,” whimpers Trick.

“I’m fine, puppy,” Anti manages frailly. “Just tired from the - from the - T-trick - ”

He faints into Trickshot’s chest.

Anonymous asked: Geez anti just leave the poor guy alone

Whatever his plans, they’re over now. Dapper won’t be hurt again today.

Anti is well and truly unconscious. Trick and Dapper, attentive and over-affectionate, ignore you completely as they do their best to take care of him, hauling his semi-corporeal body into the bed and getting a wet washcloth from the bathroom to drape over his eyes. Trick, nearly crying, crawls into bed beside Anti and wraps his arms around him, curling his fingers through his hair and whispering assurances and devotions.

Dapper sits at the end of the bed and guards, eyes wide, staring at the fairy lights draped over the door, so deep in his own head he can hardly think of anything but Anti.

But there is at least one moment where Trick whispers “Dap, are you okay?” and Dap nods, and turns gently to him, and gives him the same question. Trick shakes his head, but promises that he’ll be fine as soon as Anti wakes up. That would make everything better.

They have each other, at least.

Doktor is alone in his room, sobbing his way through the aftermath of the horribly strong power he can still feel eating away at his free will, mumbling in German and dissociating so hard he can’t make his fingers move. Eventually, he will collapse into unconscious on his mattress, and spend the rest of the day asleep.

Red and Blue come back hours later, perfectly content, home from a day in the city.

They find the lunch of fried potatoes they made uneaten by anyone.

Banging on Anti and Trick’s door gets them no answer from anyone. Trick and Dapper are not allowed to talk to anyone outside of the room, and they are, after all, very good at following the rules.

The day passes coldly.

Anonymous asked: I'm no doctor, but seems more like he took the drugs rather than sold them... Speaking of doctors, I think there's someone you might want to fetch.

Trick is awake first.

He comes over to check on the camera, brushing his fingers through his hair and yawning as he wakes up. His face is a little pale - he smiles, but there is an unnerving emptiness to it.

“We can’t get the doctor for Anti because we aren’t allowed to talk to anyone outside the door, and it’s locked anyway, so he couldn’t come in. I… I am worried about him, though. He’s not usually here when I wake up, just leaves me my medicine and goes.”

He turns back to look at the bed, setting you down on the counter again. Anti stirs slightly and Trick returns to his side, reaching out gently to touch his shoulder.

“Anti? Are you okay?”

Anti can’t seem to lift his head up off the pillows. “Trick,” he mumbles, rubbing at his face. He becomes aware of a second warm body at his side and stiffens, turning to regard the figure pressed up against his chest, sleeping soundly.

Ah, what a relief - the child belongs to him again.

A little strengthened, Anti runs a hand through Dapper’s hair and drags himself sitting up on shaky arms.

“Is it the 22nd?” he mumbles, grey-faced. “I do need to see Dok.”

Anonymous asked: damn anti you are not keeping together well hgfjhdfg

“Shut the fuck up,” Anti snaps, in a voice like a kid with strep. “I could turn you off forever in a goddamn second, you know. I’m fine, I’m… Trick-Trick, get me - no, no, never mind, I’m fine.”

He pushes himself to standing and staggers, collapsing to his hands and knees for a second. Trick gasps and hovers anxiously over him, prevented from falling down beside him by Anti’s hand reaching up to stop him.

“It’s fine,” coughs Anti, blood soaking his bandages thick, thick. “Don’t fucking touch me. I need to get Dok his present.”

“M-maybe you should just take it easy, Anti.”

“Shut the hell up, Trick, you’re the one who was so desperate for me to remember. Go get a goddamn shower, you’re a mess. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He staggers to his feet and heads out the door, his form glitching fuzzily.

reverseblackholeofwords asked: Dok are you okay? Heads up because Anti is headed your way...

The beeping of the camera jerks Blue awake.

“What?” he mumbles, rolling off his mattress. Red, who was lying on his chest, grumbles and turns onto his other side, snuffling sleepily.

“Anti’s coming for Dok? He’s in trouble again?”

Wide awake, Blue leaps to his feet and turns around and -

Oh. There, on the other side of the room, is Doktor on his mattress, sound asleep, pale as clean linen.

“Should we not have slept in the same room?” pants Blue, moving around the room like he’s looking for something that isn’t there. “Is Anti angry? Dok was just so sick-looking when I came home, and I got scared, and then when he woke up he wasn’t - he was just mumbling to himself and not answering when I called him, of course I brought him to sleep with us, he’s so lonely lately - oh, my little brother.”

Blue gets down beside Doktor and puts a hand on the back of his head, shaking him gently. “Hey, Alle, you with me?”

Dok stirs, his face tightening.

“Mh?”

“Dok,” murmurs Blue, rubbing the back of his neck, an optimist’s smile rising on his mouth despite himself at his sleepy face. “Wake up.”

“What’s going on?”

“Um, I don’t know. I think Anti - ”

“I’ll head him off,” comes a voice from behind him. Blue turns to see Red rising, the stiffness of sleep already fading from him. His face has taken on that calmness again.

“I’ll check what’s going on. Make sure Dok’s okay. Love you.”

“What? Red, be careful. Love you too, of course.”

Red is already slipping out into the hallway, just in time to nearly bump chests with Anti.

“Watch it, Red!” he snaps.

“Anti! We didn’t hear from you or Trick at all last night, I was worried! We - ”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Never mind. Is Dok up?”

“Yes, Anti. Is everything okay?”

“Where’s those candles I told you to get?”

“My bag in the clinic, Anti.”

Anti staggers slightly as he moves past him and Red frowns, something lighting up in his eyes. He watches his little brother walk but knows better than to offer help.

“Here, here, here,” mumbles Anti, picking up the backpack and taking out a plastic bag stuffed full of tall white candles. “Mh, perfect! Good boy.”

“Anti?” says Red softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s blood on his shirt again, not only where it was yesterday but also on his back, heavy around his lowest ribs.

Anti ignores him and returns, turning to enter Doktor’s room.

He gasps and drops the candles.

“Where is he?” he shrieks, whirling on Red. “Where is my boy, where is my healer?”

“Anti, Anti! Please, he’s just in our room!”

Blood comes seeping out of Anti’s eyes and Red steps back as his little brother bursts into a painful bout of coughing, clutching at his chest. “In your room?” he gasps around choking. “Why? Who told you you could do that? He’s separated for a reason.”

“Anti, something was wrong with him last night.” Fuck, but Red has gotten good at stopping his voice from trembling. “Your caretaker made the decision to bring Dok to our room, to make sure he didn’t worsen during the night.”

Cool, clipped, professional, distant. The mention of Blue seems to soothe Anti a little, and he wipes the streams of blood into red smudges on his face.

“Whatever,” he manages finally, his eyes dark, his chest still working a little too fast. “Get out, then. Go make breakfast. Need to talk to my Deutsch.”

He shoves past Red and into his room. “You too, Blue!”

Blue comes scurrying out of the room, whispering a reassurance to Doktor before hurrying away.

Feeling dizzy, Dok does his best to sit up, his eyes wide.

Anonymous asked: December 22nd and candles... Hanukkah?

For a second, Doktor is frozen, staring at your lens.

“No…” he says softly. “He wouldn’t have remembered, he wouldn’t have… he doesn’t…”

“I resent that,” comes a voice from the doorway.

Doktor looks up at Anti. Anti looks back, frowning a little.

The window casts him in a glow of warm gold light. He stands with his hand holding the doorframe, a little pale, a little tired, a little weak. With the blood on his face, he looks soft and hurting, and at the look in Doktor’s eyes, he offers a small smile.

“You really didn’t think I’d do anything?”

“Didn’t…. didn’t know you cared. Especially considering… lately, I…”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” says Anti, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. “I wouldn’t not give you your holiday just because of that. I can be merciful, you know. How are you doing after last night?”

“Oh… okay. Now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine, fine. Did you really, um - did you really get me candles?”

Doktor’s voice is shaking hard. Anti’s smile curves slyly up and he hums, sitting down beside him on the mattress, and hands the plastic bag over, throwing a lighter from his pocket in as well.

Doktor picks up a tall white candle and holds it up to the light. The wax is smooth and warm beneath his fingers, wafting a faint smell that awakens in him the vestiges of soft old memories, like felt at the edges of his mind. Firelight, fried pancakes, the lilt of cheerful voices chattering on his every side, laughter…

Warmed down to the inside of his chest, he lets out a soft hum and places the candles lovingly back in the bag. A tear drips down onto his present and he clutches the bag to his chest, looking up at Anti.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Course. Listen, Dok…”

Anti shifts and Doktor braces himself, looking over at him.

“I’ve been… hard on you lately. I… I’m sorry.”

A weight ascends from Doktor’s chest. He can barely breathe.

“Oh… no, no, it’s okay!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean - I - you’re right, really, I should have been watching Trick and Dapper better, both of them - ”

“Well, yeah,” sighs Anti, frowning at the ceiling. “Of course.”

“And I - I know I could do better, at a lot of things. I never meant to make you angry, Anti, I didn’t, I - I’m sorry for everything, master, I’m sorry I didn’t - didn’t stop him and didn’t save him and don’t deserve him - ”

“Come on, Dok, come on!” protests Anti, laughing now. “Don’t cry!”

“But I just - I just - and I appreciate the candles and all, I do, so, so much, but I was wondering - ”

“Dok, calm down, fuck. Haha, you’re so easily worked up these days! It’s a good day, let’s leave it at that. Here, have fun with your candles. There should be other presents too, but I’ll just let Red give them to you on Christmas with everybody else’s, okay?”

Deutsch’s mouth hangs open lamely, his eyes bright and streaming tears. He tries to get his lips to move, his tongue to answer, tries to get the words out -

He can’t fucking do it. He can’t ask for the one thing he really wants. He bows his head, clutching the candles to his heart, feeling utterly alone.

“Happy Hanukkah, Dok,” purrs Anti, giving him one last brush of his hair before getting to his feet, preparing to leave.

“Thank you,” whispers Doktor, curling in on himself. “Thank you, Anti.”

Anonymous asked: is there a way dok can see trick? it will do them both good to see each other

Anti pauses and turns to read the message.

His eyes widen slightly and he turns to Dok just in time to catch a glimpse of something he has rarely, if ever, seen on his face - a desperation like a dying soldier’s, a desperation like someone watching their loved one pass away before their eyes.

Anti stares at Dok, confused. He glances back at you, thinking.

“P-please…” It falls from Doktor’s mouth like a Hanukkah blessing. “Please, Anti… even just for Christmas day… even just for a moment… please…”

Anti shakes his head slightly, frowning. A little blood is trickling from his mouth now, and he wipes it away, feeling a little faint.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s a good… I mean, I guess I won’t want Trick and Dap to be apart from the rest of you on Christmas, but…”

cest-mellow asked: letting them see each other would be the greatest christmas gift you could ever give them. they would be so grateful, so so thankful, anti. just for christmas. a few hours won’t hurt, you know? and it’ll be something they can work toward! if everyone is good, good things happen. please..?

Anti sighs, rubbing at his eyes a little. Fuck, but he aches.

“I will be very careful,” promises Dok softly. “And very good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

Anti glances at your message again.

“Mh… okay.”

Doktor nearly leaps up from the mattress, his eyes shining.

“If you are very, very good these next few days. Do you understand me? No trouble at all, Doktor, not a peep out of you to cause me the slightest headache. Then you can see Trick for a day.”

“Okay! Okay, yes, that sounds - yes, I can do that. I can.”

Doktor’s practically vibrating. He folds his hands carefully over his candles. Blessings are already singing through his head.

“Okay,” says Anti, casting a gentle gaze at him. Doktor simpers under the warmth, his eyes lighting up with something he’s been missing for some time now - devotion. “Bye, Dok-Dok.”

“Anti?”

“What?”

“Tell me if you need anything - anything at all.”

“Will do, Allemagne.”

Anti heads out the door.

There’s a pause.

Doktor throws himself back on his mattress and lets out a cry of pure ferocious joy through gritted, grinning teeth, striking his hand on the bed once, twice.

“Hölle ja!” he screams, lifting his arms to the sun, beaming. “Hölle ja, best first of Hanukkah ever!”

Your other camera follows Anti back towards his room. He’s laughing.

“Isn’t he so fucking easy to please?”

Anonymous asked: Pssst, Dapper! Did you...did you really forget everything?

You find Dapper up, but not on his own - he’s propped against the headboard of the bed, his face nearly slack, but still smiling faintly. Eyes circled heavily in blue stare blankly back at you, and he lifts his loosely tied hands like a marionette, his body jerking. Even his face twitches.

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” he assures you, signing slower than usual. For a second his hands hesitate, wandering down to reach around the back of the ribs, shaking, but then he rights himself. “How many times has Anti reset my head, and always the broken mind snaps back again, and fragments come to me like a rush of alcohol, disrupting everything, crooning old memories at me like siren song. No, this is just…”

His hands fall slowly towards the bed. His eyes drift dizzily away.

“Just… reversion… keep my head trapped back there, like I was when I was young… what’s… happening to me…”

“You need some medicine,” a strong voice interrupts him, and Anti appears in the doorway, smiling. Trick slinks away from him, smiling nervously, but Anti ignores him, stepping over towards Dapper and pulling a bottle of prescription medicine out of his hoodie pocket. He unclicks the child safety lock and shakes a pill into his hand, reaching out to press it to Dapper’s lips.

There is a small twelve printed on the tiny white surface.

“Come on, so.”

“Oh, okay, yes, sir, but Anti, this - this isn’t my medicine.”

“Well, it is now.”

“Oh, but my medicine - Anti, I haven’t had it yet and I don’t want my mind to - can’t I please have my medicine, I - ”

“Dapper, stop playing games and take this. It’s to replace the Haldol. Okay?”

Dapper stares up at him, that twisted smile still fixed on his mouth.

“Okay. Yes, Anti.”

He parts his lips and lets Anti place it on his tongue.

“There.” Anti tugs on a strand of his curly hair, smiling slickly at him. “All better now, yeah?”

Dapper’s eyes do not shine, but his smile does.

“Yes, Anti.”

“There’s my good boy.”

His mouth is, very slightly, leaking blood.

Anonymous asked: Is there something wrong, Anti?

Anti moves slightly away from Dapper, licking at his bloodied lips.

“No,” he murmurs, seeming to barely register the question. “No, of course not… I can… I can control all this… soon all will be well again. All will be well again soon.”

He sinks down onto the bed, steadying himself. What little color was in his face is draining.

“Just a little tired.”

Anonymous asked: Boys do you have a Christmas tree?

Dapper drifts in and out of nightmares.

A swollen river rushes past his feet. His dress shoes are soaked. He can hear someone yelling. Fire in the distance. Fire getting closer.

Dapper turns over in his sleep. A moment later, he is yanked back, held tight under Trickshot’s arm.

Anti glitches past him in a spasm of coding and color and blood. Dapper can taste his copper magic on the air. Dapper can smell ocean water and a forest soaked in rain. He can hear someone crying.

He whimpers in his sleep. Trick does not awaken.

He sees Blue stand.

And then he sees Blue fall.

Blood slicks his white face.

“Blue!” someone screams, but no one goes to him, no one answers. “Blue!”

Blue does not get up.

Dapper jerks awake, grabbing at the sheets around him, panting so hard he can barely sit up. Trick grumbles at him, tugging sleepily at his shirt, trying to get him to calm down while still half-asleep.

“Why are you fussing, Dap, I’m tired…”

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s nothing. Go to sleep. Go back to sleep.”

Trick is already slipping back onto his pillows.

Dapper sighs and begins carefully smoothing down his dress shirt, wrinkled from wearing it to bed. He spends long minutes using his fingers to press the folds down, and again, and again, trying to get the wrinkles away, without much success. He straightens his tie - far too tight around his neck, far too tight - and finally rises. He uses the bathroom and trims his beard and mustache carefully before making his way over to you and checking over the messages.

“Christmas tree?” He glances around the room, confused, staring out the window, where sun and heat pour cheerfully through the windows. “It’s… Christmas?”

“It’s like the 24th or something,” mumbles Trick, rubbing at his face. “Cause Hannukah was the 22nd…” He yawns hugely and turns back on his side, trying to decide whether or not to go to bed. His neck is beginning to bruise from the collar he wears.

Dapper brightens a little, standing up straighter. “Maybe we will get a Christmas tree or something, then! It doesn’t look like Christmas at all outside. After all, it’s - ”

He pauses and glances towards the door as voices trail back to the end of the hall.

“Can I get anything?”

“Within reason. Anything you need and some real presents for each other. Not just food and medicine and clothes and stuff, Red, something you can actually enjoy.”

“Well, we enjoy not starving,” Red answers, in what Dapper thinks is probably a joke. Probably.

“Haha.” Anti’s voice is a dry, weary rasp. “Just do it.”

“Yes, Anti. Can I bring Trick and Dap?”

“What? No. Why would you possibly do that?”

“Well, they’d probably like to pick stuff out for each other, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. They’ll get presents and you’ll pick out plenty for the others. There’s no reason for them to choose their own just to give them away. You can take Dok, though, if you want. I’m sick of his moping.”

“He liked having his candles, though. He’s been quiet. He’s been good.”

“See that he stays that way, if you take him into town.”

“Yes, Anti.”

And then the door to Dapper’s room creaks open, and he gets a half-second where his gaze meets Red’s, and then Anti is stepping in and shutting it behind him.

“Hi, Anti,” signs Dapper eagerly, reaching out for a hug, but Anti is already brushing past him and getting back into bed. He gives a small gasp as he tears slightly at the wound on his back, but a second later he is growling it away, curling his body around Trickshot’s, and closing his eyes once again.

Dapper sighs, disappointment dripping down his face. For a second, he stares hungrily at the locked handle of the door, listening to the sounds of Red and Blue getting ready to leave the house, to wander, to be free for the day, even to buy things for the people they love.

Dapper sits down beneath the windowsill, staring out at the sky.

“I love my little puppetbox,” his hands insist, and then again: “I love my little puppetbox.”

He finds his puppets and a red blanket - no, it’s a red curtain of some sort - and he curls up in the corner and begins to play alone, a blank smile on his mouth.

Anonymous asked: Merry Christmas, boys. We love you!! ....you too, Anti, you salty turtle.

Red is standing in the clinic, shaking just a little. In the other room, you can hear Dok and Blue talking quietly.

After a few minutes, Red lifts up the wad of cash that he’s been given and begins to count it - carefully, carefully, carefully, his family’s holiday held there in his hands.

His breathing picks up and his eyes alight.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he giggles, glancing up at you.

And then:

“Merry Christmas to you too!” he shouts, slamming a foot against the ground and whirling in a circle with a joyful whoop. Cries of protest at being startled arise from the bedroom and he laughs, darting towards Blue and Doktor, who look up at him with concern in their eyes.

“Roser, you are being so loud!”

“Get your shoes on!”

“What?”

“Get your shoes on, we’re going into town! We get to go pick out presents, dude!”

“Wait - really?”

Red shoves the cash into Blue’s hands and darts away to grab his shoes and his backpack. “Dok, you too!” he sings, hurrying around the house. “I’ll let you pick some stuff out, even!”

Doktor shrinks slightly in on himself, frowning.

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Deutsch, you have to go.” A Blue growing in excitement hastens to his feet and finds his boots, tugging them on without delay. “Who wants to be stuck in this little house all day anyway?”

“Long time since I was out of the house… I don’t know. Maybe I should stay. Someone could come needing help.”

bupine asked: dok, if you go out you can get a gift for trick!!

“Oh… I suppose that’s true.”

“Red, you’ll let Dok get something just for Trick, won’t you?”

“Yeah, sure! I can’t remember the last time we had this much cash.”

“But what will I get him?”

“Hey, everybody will be happy to help you figure it out.”

“But what if he doesn’t like it? What if he doesn’t want it at all anymore?”

“Dok,” scolds Blue, pulling his little brother to his feet. Doktor follows anxiously, refusing to meet Blue’s eyes once he’s up, playing with the end of his tattered shirt.

“Deutsch, look at me.”

Dok sighs and obeys, looking up. Blue takes his chin carefully in his hands.

“Trick loves you.”

Doktor softens, something like agony or maybe relief moving through his eyes. Sometimes they’re not all that different.

“He’ll love anything you get him. And he is going to be so excited to see you tomorrow. Okay?”

Doktor swallows and nods, wringing his hands together.

“You promise?”

Blue leans forward to hug him tight, wrapping his arms around Dok’s shoulders and feeling him relax. “Of course,” he reassures, patting his shoulder. “Of course.”

Red re-enters the room and holds a backpack out to Blue and a spare drawstring bag out to Doktor, who accepts it with a faint smile on his mouth, already thinking about what he’ll get his brother.

“Okay, here’s what I’m wondering.” Red pulls his hood up over his eyes and heads towards the door, handing each of his brothers a blueberry bagel and a bottle of water before the three of them head out for the day. “Do we want to go to the classic like grocery store shop place in the nicer part of town first, or do we start with that funky little tourist market where all the white people go for their cute-ass souvenirs and the vecinos sell whatever they can get their hands on? I think we’ll have time for both, but I’m not sure.”

“You just want one of those alpaca-fur stuffed animals,” snorts Blue, his boots kicking up dirt as he leaps out the door.

Red beams, turning to him. He’s more excited than you’ve seen him in a long time.

“Maaaybe.”

They dissolve into giggles and reach back to Doktor, who, finding himself the youngest, consents to let them hold his hands, just like he and Trick held Dapper’s on that fall day so far away now.

Anonymous asked: Will y’all get anything for Anti?

Red’s mouth fills up with a smile.

“Yeah,” he laughs, counting through his cash again, trailing down the mountain. Rocks slide and shift and sharpen beneath his feet, but he’s gotten pretty used to it. Dok is a little less steady - there are a couple times he’s grateful he’s being held up.

“Yeah, I think I will get him something. Not sure what, though, haha. He’s, uh. Impossible to get anything for. I hope he doesn’t get pissed off or upset or anything… and he isn’t looking well, these days, you know… so white all the time, but he won’t let Dok look at him at all…”

Dok and Blue exchange looks, letting Red lead them down the mountainside.

“Nothing ever seems to really make him happy, no matter what I do. I think he - ”

“Red,” Blue interrupts him warmly, drawing his attention away. “Why don’t we worry about that when we get where we’re going? Look, the vecinos are waving.”

Red turns to see a pair of little kids sitting on the concrete steps up on the other side of the buildings, the older one waving shyly.

“Hola,” calls Blue, releasing Dok’s hand. “Que pasa, pequeñas?”

“Hola, médico,” answers the older, making Doktor smile.

“Hola, gringos,” calls the smaller one, and Red bursts into laughter, waving back.

“Hey!” calls Blue in Spanish. “You tell your mama, when she’s ready to have her baby, send one of you to come get the médico, okay? Feliz Navidad.”

“Feliz Navidad!” they answer, turning back the way they came to return a stray chicken to their home. Red’s mood is brightened and his thoughts distracted. They will greet many people on the way down the mountain, and though not all of them will be happy to see them, Blue can’t help but think they’re starting to be a part of this community.

“It’s good for people to see you,” calls Blue, taking Dok’s hand again. “They trust you better and better each day. That man you stitched up yesterday has a big family, you know. They are better off because you’re here.”

Dok’s cheeks are flushed with pride.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen that look in his eyes before.

Anonymous asked: Ooo, Dok, what do you think you’ll get Trick? And what will y’all get for Dap?

They travel down the mountain.

“Trick might want, like, some stuff of his own. I can’t even remember what he has back there anymore. New clothes?”

“Maybe a big blanket or something.”

“He loves that little piece of paper he has.”

They travel through the city, chatting side-by-side on a crowded Christmas Eve bus.

“Dap we gotta get more art supplies for.”

“Yeah, yeah. There’s other stuff he likes too, though. Some soft kid stuff. Isn’t that what he likes?”

“Well, some days.”

“Yeah, and then other days all he wants is a knife and some purpose.”

“He’s fucking changeable.”

“Well, who can blame him? We’ll find some stuff for him when we’re there. Anyway, Anti said he got some things for everyone anyway. I’m sure he covered his little darlings.”

They travel to the market.

“Damn. What is this place?”

Blue and Red turn to grin at their little brother.

“Oh, Dok. You got a lot to explore.”

Red hands him a wad of cash.

“Let’s go a little wild.”

cest-mellow asked: dok, you should get trick something he can keep with him, like a sweater or blanket or a stuffed toy. and then keep it next to you, hold it tight to you so when he gets it it smells like you! a way for him to have you near while anti takes care of him, you know?

Dok parts from his brothers the first chance he gets, promising to be back in an hour. As much as he loves them, he can’t remember the last time he had any real alone time. Even with Dapper and Trick away, there is always one of the twins close at hand, and nowhere but his lonely little room to retreat to, where there is nothing to do. Even amid crowds of people moving from stall to stall, he feels more alone and more at peace than he has in some time. It gives a little energy back to him and he straightens up as he walks amid colorful stalls with clothes, toys, fried food, paintings, sculptures, and more, and more, and more, counting through his cash.

“It’s been a long fucking time since I had money to spend on… whatever I want,” he murmurs, still a little in disbelief. “I have 200 soles. How can I even spend that much money?”

He circles back through the first line of stalls, so he can see everything again with a little more attention paid.

“Something soft for Trick, something he can keep with him… clothes would be the best way to ensure Anti did not take it away for reminding him of me. And he does need new ones.”

He pauses outside a store with packaged clothes covered in bootleg American merchandising and begins sorting through a box of sweatshirts, examining each one by one. You see his confidence grow as he looks through them, laughing a little at goofy slogans and pictures. Eventually he pulls out a plain but warmly knit and plush soft blue sweater and a hooded black sweatshirt with a polar bear in sunglasses on it.

“Which one you think?”

bupine asked: oh definitely the polar bear with sunglasses, no doubt about it. Anon asked: Polar bear!! It’ll make him laugh.

“I thought you might say that,” laughs Dok, picking it up in his arms. “Kind of his style, uh? He used to joke much more.”

He buys the sweater for 30 soles with broken Spanish and a smile for the worn-down teenager running the stand.

reverseblackholeofwords asked: Blue, will you get something special for Dap? I think he could use the extra love right now.

“Something special for Dap… something special for Dap… hm.”

Blue ducks under a line of knitted ponchos hanging from the ceiling of a shop and steps in to a little stuffy shop, so soft and cute it makes him laugh out loud.

“There you go, mission accomplished,” laughs Red, picking up a little cat stuffy. “Oh, these are the alpaca ones, hell yes. Blue, just get him, like, four.”

“You know Dap’s not an actual ten-year-old, right?”

“Aw, come on. What else has he ever been interested in but cute shit, toys, and the knives Anti gives him? May as well be a little kid, way he acts.”

Something flickers through Blue’s eyes, and you see him draw away from his twin a little, frowning.

“Don’t say that,” he scolds softly, turning towards the animals.

“Hey, I love him for it. Cute little guy.”

“Come on. I know neither of us remember much - ”

“Anything.”

“But there has to have been things that Dapper liked before… he started acting like this, I guess.”

“I don’t know, Blue. I think he’s always been like that. He’s just - he never really grew up, you know? He’s just a little kid, really. That’s what Anti says, and he knows Dapper better than anyone.”

Blue sighs, but chooses to brush past it. “Tell you what,” he says. “You pick out one of the animals for him, and I’ll try to find something a little more… adult, too. He’ll like them both.”

“Hey, when it comes to looking after everybody, you’re the boss.” Red accepts his brother’s authority like he knows he should. Obedience, lately, comes so easy to him that he no longer has to think to fall into the place where Anti wants him to be.

Besides, he loves the stuffed animals.

He picks out a white bear for Dapper, almost unbelievably soft with warm alpaca fur. He takes a deep whiff of its cozy scent and presses his face to it for a second, savoring the softness on his face.

“That’s the good shit,” he whispers to you, grinning, and grabs a second toy discreetly - a little black alpaca. He doesn’t notice Blue slyly picking out a white and ginger one on the other side of the store, watching carefully to make sure Red does not notice, both of their eyes brightening from the secrecy of it.

Cest-mellow requested: maybe blue gets red a tiny little spider-man plush, like the ones that go on backpacks and stuff? And maybe red gets blue some kinda ring that he put engravings on or inside :00 saying something sweet or their names !

Red wanders away from the stuffed animal shop with his bag, distracted by glittering on the other side of the market. One of the biggest stalls in the market is just hand-made silver jewelry. He smiles down at the earrings and necklaces, a little entranced.

“Better not to look here, though,” he reasons gently. “See, most of the shit in the market is cheap, but this stuff is real, you know, and they charge fair for it. Which is good. Just not for us. Reminds me of Blue, though! Anti’s kind of the one who likes to dress him up, but I love to see him a little fancy. Cause he lives for it, you know, he takes a lot of pride in his jewelry and his… his…”

He pauses, his eyes fixed on the rings.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “That’s pretty.”

He reaches out to touch a thin silver ring, carved into vines, with one rose in the middle.

“Reminds me so much of Blue,” he murmurs. “I’m not even sure why. Maybe I… no. I’m supposed to be responsible.”

He stares at the ring, conflicted.

On your other camera, Blue is having no such qualms. You find him laughing his ass off two stores away, too out of breath to explain why. He can only show you the little home-made Spiderman keychain he found. Its face is completely messed up and it’s red and black instead of red and blue. He buys it for 20 soles and continues, still giggling. Red will love that for his backpack.

Anonymous asked: Pssst, Red, I know this is supposed to be festive and all, but did you get rid of Blue’s chain yet? This might be a good place to throw it out before Anti has a surprise inspection. Also does Dap need meds? We will not have another repeat of what happened last time. Anyways, happy hunting!

Red pauses, a little alarmed. His eyes flicker around the store, and then he lifts up a finger to his mouth.

“Oh, the chain I was thinking of getting Blue for Christmas?” he continues calmly. “Already handled it. But it… it was in the bag with Doktor’s candles.”

His mouth trembles slightly. He runs his fingers over the curves of the ring, again and again.

“Christmas might be difficult tomorrow, depending on what he saw,” he says. “But I hope to make it good for my brothers at least. Anyway, Anti is handling Dapper’s medication. We should have plenty of supplies since we hit that truck.”

spicydanhowell asked: (((( blease can dok get trick a little wind up music box? i had one as a kid that was like a lullaby and it would be perfect for him

Dok wanders through the market, distracted by the sound of gentle music.

He’s got a couple bags with him now - a pair of matching red and blue shirts with Star Wars characters on them, because no one can complain about Kylo Ren like his big brothers, a big plastic bag full of dried apples for Dapper, because he’s seen him go through them like a starving sugar bat, and a tiny, half-foot, light-up Christmas tree he found, for all of his brothers.

But the music draws him away.

It’s something starry and soft.

And sad.

Reminds him a lot of Trick.

He finds a pair of girls examining it at the back of a quiet clothes and art shop, chattering in Spanish, but they eventually wander away, and Dok sidles up in their place, taking it into his hands.

It’s nothing but a carved box of wood with a plastic music player inside, a little ocean scene painted on the top. Stars in a dark sky stare down under a swaying ocean, and when he winds the box, the soft, sad, lovely music begins to play again.

The shopkeep watches him.

“Beautiful?” he asks, sparing Dok a smile.

Dok glances up. “Sí,” he mumbles. “¿Cuánto es?”

“50 soles.”

Most of his cash. That’s okay. There are some things worth having. He hands it over with a quiet “gracias” and does not ask for a bag.

He holds it in his hands. It is so beautiful to him he can barely stand to hold it.

He feels dirty.

He retreats into a quiet corner of the market, holding the box in his hands. He plays the music over and over again, until one warm silver tear drips down his lined face.

He wants to see his brother again.

cest-mellow requested: DOG TAGS !!! blue could get red some dog tags !!! ok sorry I’m done popping off now

You find Blue bartering with a shopkeeper in Spanish.

“75 soles.”

“40.”

“Gringo, you’re playing games!”

Blue laughs and holds the blank dog tags up again.

“Fine, 55.”

“If you want the inscription, 60 at the least.”

“The inscription is only one word.”

“Oh? What sort of dog tags have only one word?”

Blue beams and holds them out.

“Only one word, sir.”

The shopkeeper glares at him for a moment, and then the look softens away with a short, barking laugh. “Fine! Fine. 55 for one word. What do you want it to say?”

Blue leans eagerly over the little printing machine.

“Rojo!”

“Rojo, huh? And you’re Azul, I suppose.”

Blue runs a hand through his dyed hair, grinning as they exchange a freshly printed dog tag on a small chain for 55 soles.

“Feliz Navidad, Señor!”

“Feliz Navidad!”

Blue moves away again, smiling at the tags. He thinks that’s pretty cool. The market is beginning to quiet, but there are still people milling around - a pair of teenage girls with college t-shirts, an older man with silver-white hair, a young guy in a green jacket, with a black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, a couple stalls down from Blue.

“That should be good for Red,” Blue hums. “Except maybe some clothes or shoes or something.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, do you think Dapper would like a pocket watch?

“Ah, yes! He has one, actually! That’s very good thinking though, he’s obsessive with that thing sometimes. I’m not sure, though, it never seems to be on quite the right time. Maybe he needs a new one. Seems a little broken to me.”

Anonymous asked: "Maybe try.. something sentimental for Dap? That isn't very specific, I know, but I think he'd appreciate a nice necklace, or a photo frame. Oh! Maybe a polaroid! He may like that!" -PF!H

“Hm… I like that.”

Blue is rounding some of the shops farther away from the main market, thinking. There’s a lot of painting and painted sculptures and things back here, all of them lovely. But he isn’t sure Dap would be able to put anything up that he didn’t make himself.

There are, however, photo frames - nice ones, hand-painted, large enough for a full sheet of sketch paper.

“He could put something of his own in there,” murmurs Blue, reaching out to touch a large photo frame with birds painted around the corners. “He might really like that. Excuse me, Señora? Cuanto es?”

He buys it at a good price and tucks it carefully into his backpack.

“That was a really good idea! Thank you!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Who's next, guys?

After about an hour, Red, Blue, and Doktor meet back where they began, chatting about some of the things they found. They all laugh at Dap’s little white bear and Trick’s polar bear hoodie.

“Okay, next!” Red claps his hands together. “Let’s go check out the real store a few blocks down, okay? There’s some stuff I think we should get just for the house and stuff. And then we still need a few more presents. I want to make sure everybody gets at least a couple, yeah? But Anti got some for everyone too, I think, so we should be good either way.”

He turns to you, grinning, as he steps down the stairs of the market, leading his brothers away. A few people are trailing away with them - a man with his child slung over his shoulders, a young girl running errands for her mother, and a younger guy with a green coat and a black cap tugged low over his eyes.

bupine asked: get dap some art stuff remember! he'll definitely appreciate that

“Yes!” sings Red, leading his brothers back to the art section. “Number one rule of getting Dapper presents, right? What sort of things does he like?”

“I remember when we took him to the store in Norway,” offers Dok, taking a box of charcoals, colored pastel chalks, and a sketchbook off the wall. “Is that good?”

whydoilovesomanyvillians requested: can jamie get some art supplies

“No, they’re right!” protests Blue, drifting farther along the wall. “Let’s get him more than that, this is his favorite thing.”

“Maybe paints?” Dok shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “Does he like painting?”

“He might if he tried it, I expect.” Red picks a cheap watercoloring kit and some paper off the wall.

“How about some nice colored pencils, too?” Blue takes a big box of brand pencils off the wall. “I know he’d use these. Is that okay, Red?”

“Yeah. He’s had a rough time lately and I haven’t gotten him much else. This will all last him a while. Pile it on. He’ll love that.”

Anonymous asked: Hey blue,,, weird question but can you see the guy with the black baseball cap around?

Blue’s standing in the aisle with the sewing stuff, wondering if he could patch up some of his brother’s clothes.

“Hm?” he asks, glancing around. “There’s a guy with a black baseball cap down there, by the posters. You mean him?”

Anonymous asked: Boys I think there’s someone following you...but I don’t think he wants to hurt you guys.

Red reads your message.

You watch his smile fade away.

He draws away from you slightly, his whole body tensing. Blue, seeming to notice the difference, reaches forward to touch his shoulder. Red flinches and jerks away, trying to smile at him.

“Tell you what,” he grins stiffly. “Take your brother to get some of the blankets we’ve been talking about. Yeah?”

“Red, is everything - ”

“Yeah, Blue?”

Blue deflates, taking Dok’s hand.

“Yes, Red.”

“Good. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dok and Blue head towards the other side of the store.

Red stares at you, his expression darkening again.

“Describe them to me.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Hey wait wasn't that guy with the hat tucked down over his face near blue before

“The guy with the hat?”

Red darts along one aisle, two, glancing around. He checks the aisle with the toys, the sewing, the crafts, the art supplies, the posters, the carvings.

“Where did he go?”

Anonymous asked: Red don’t fucking hurt him I stg if it’s who I think it is....black cap and green jacket. He’s been following Blue for the last three, four stops?

Red looks like he’s going to stop breathing, his face very white and his teeth gritted tightly, tightly, tightly in his mouth.

“Following Blue? Following Blue? Following my Blue?”

Anonymous asked: He's young, green coat with a black hat pulled low, but careful Red, you don't know if he's really trouble or not. Maybe he's just curious.

“Just curious? Just curious so he follows Blue? No, no, no. Nobody trails my family, I don’t care who the fuck he is, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

Anonymous asked: Blue??? That guy you spotted earlier, is he still following you??? Oh gosh please be careful. If he is go back to Red!! NOW

Blue whirls around, grabbing Dok suddenly to his chest over by the clothes section.

His eyes are narrowed slits. He squeezes Dok’s shoulders and glances slowly around.

“Don’t see anyone,” he mumbles.

Something like fear flickers through his eyes.

His hands glow faintly blue.

“Blue!” hisses Dok, grabbing his fingers.

“Wh - oh, shit, shit - ”

“Sh, sh,” soothes Dok. “Put them in your pockets and let’s just calm down for a moment. Everything’s okay, Blue. I don’t think anyone’s following us.”

Anonymous asked: Oh gosh did he follow Blue when he left with Dok?

Distressed, Red turns to follow his twin, casting looks in every direction. The store is busy on Christmas Eve, though, and he can’t seem to find the man you described.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Blue did see him last in the store red

“Okay, maybe he’s following Blue himself somehow. I’ll look in their area.

Anonymous asked: Yes Blue, but don’t fight him yet please, we need to see his face, can you get close?

“I think I saw the guy you’re talking about. A tall guy with a lot of dark hair. I didn’t recognize his face.”

Anonymous asked: Are you very good at killing people quietly Red? Are you allowed to without telling Anti? Seems like it would attract a lot of attention and put you all in even more danger maybe, should you all just leave and go home?

Red bares his teeth savagely. For a second he does not look at all like Blue or Dok or Trick or Dapper.

“Master gave me my orders. My duty to protect them. Trust me - if someone was following us, he would be more than happy for me to drag the corpse back home to him.”

He moves coldly down the aisles, brushing blood-red hair out of his eyes.

“And… yes.

“I am very good at that.”

Anonymous asked: Why don’t we get some more information on the guy before we try to kill him, okay? Red, you need to find Blue and Dok before the man does. Don’t panic okay? You’re the big brother, you’ll keep them safe like you always do.

“Information doesn’t matter if someone’s following us,” snaps Red.

But a moment later, he is calming himself again, breathing through his teeth.

“You’re right though. I have to stay calm or I’ll scare the others. Everything’s fine. If someone’s following us it will be easy to eliminate him. I’ll keep them safe. I’ll keep everybody safe.”

Anonymous asked: Information is good though, I mean what if...what if it’s the people Anti says is hunting you guys? (I mean maybe they’re good but y’know...who knows I wouldn’t go off that) anti might appreciate that type of knowledge y’know?

Red groans a little, gripping at his hair.

“But I… Anti never tells me anything about the people who are following us… I don’t know what to look for.”

He sighs, letting his hands drop again.

“We’ll just have to see what we see when we find him. Maybe he realized I’d noticed him and ran away.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Blue how are you doing right now have you seen him

“No, I don’t see him.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, letting your temper flare isn't going to help anyone. Keep a cool head and maybe he'll back off. Just keep your eyes peeled and lay low.

Red lets off a small, anxious growl of a noise, but he catches sight of Blue and Dok again and relaxes a little.

“Hey,” he calls, touching both of their shoulders. “You okay? Blue, why are you so pale?”

“Oh,” says Blue, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s nothing.”

Red frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe we can talk about it later?” Blue glances at Dok, who frowns.

“Fine. Fine.” Red pats both of their shoulders and turns around, thinking.

bupine asked: pleeeeeeease don't kill him, you'll just draw bad attention to yourself and anti will be pissed. why don't you talk to him and ask what he wants first, then kill later if u still feel like it (though i don't condone it)

Red sighs.

“Okay. Fair enough. Please tell us if you see him again, though. I’ll have to bring this up to Anti. He’ll know what to do. Maybe he’ll know who it is that could be coming.”

Anonymous asked: Oh no, oh no! Let's not make the boys panic over nothing, right? It's a small town. Some guy being in the same place as them doesn't have to mean anything. It's probably best just to let everyone do as they will, and not rock the boat. Yeah? Anyone could see these messages, after all.

“Right, right, right,” Red murmurs, rocking on his heels. “Yeah… yeah, you know, maybe it was just a coincidence.”

You can almost see it in his eyes that he doesn’t believe his own words, but Dok, at least, doesn’t seem concerned, and Blue is calming the longer he does not see the man.

“Okay,” sighs Red, turning to his brothers. “This doesn’t get to ruin our holiday, so now we’re playing Present-Buying: Speed Edition. Go grab the things you need and then let’s go, okay? I want to get home. You two go and I’ll be close behind just… keeping an eye out. Fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Yes, Red.”

“Dok?”

“Yes, Red.”

“There’s my good boys. See you in a minute.”

He slips away.

Anonymous asked: Do not go home. He might be waiting to follow you guys back....well I mean you could go home but we’re trying not to get people killed right? The smaller the mess, happier the glitch bitch.

“If someone tries to follow us up the mountain, I will know them by the uncertainty of their feet and the barking of the dogs behind them. I will know them by the men calling threats disguised as greetings to the stranger in their midst. I will know them by the sliding dust and the rocks the split sneakers and spill blood along the treacherous path my feet know better than the insides of my shoes.”

Red walks along a store aisle, a shadow in his eyes.

“That place is my home now, and I am Anti’s best guard dog. The mountain keeps us safe. Nothing is going to - oh, hey, Blue would like this!”

reverseblackholeofwords requested: Maybe Red could get Blue one of those night lights that shines stars on the ceiling? It’s got all kinds of constellations and stuff? Idk if that’s all that plausible but I think it’d be cute

Red reaches out to take a little battery-powered night light into his hand, with constellation patterns in the top.

“Fuck, you’re right, this is cute as hell. And Blue would love this. Pretty cheap, too - here, I’ll get one for Trick and Dap’s room too.”

Anonymous asked: Wow, that’s it. That’s red’s character in a nutshell. Why am I not surprised.

“Okay,” Red draws out, shaking his head, rolling his eyes.

Trying very hard to be annoyed.

the-weirdest-fan requested: As I’ve mostly been interacting with Anti, I feel it’d make sense for me to suggest something for him. Maybe get more cameras? As for the others, I’d say get them a fan or two. Took me forever to think of those, when it really shouldn’t have, sorry if they’re bad. Thank you mod, and happy holidays!

“Fans!” cries Red. “That’s the other thing I’ve been wanting for the house, you don’t know how hot it gets at day - and then cooler at night, but that’s our only relief. Well, I can get a couple of these little, little ones anyway. Can’t carry the normal ones right now, but maybe I can put aside some money. Better than nothing, right?

“And cameras - damn, I should get him batteries for his cameras, that’s probably best. Then he doesn’t have to use his own energy so much. Some of them still run on batteries, I think. Thank you!”

Anonymous asked: Red, you started with a Batman-style threat and it ended as a Darkwing Duck-style introduction. And I love it.

“What the hell is Darkwing Duck? Hey, you take that back! No way, I’m Batman!”

dancing-anon asked: Djlafjal Sorry I know im spamming you but like- what if the boyes get a massive blanket and they all get to snuggle under it when Anti lets them be together- (I just love this au sorry)

Blue and Dok head over towards the home stuff on the other side of the store, Dok casting confused glances between Red and the hand holding his own.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, honey,” mumbles Blue distractedly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dok scowls. He’s starting to get tired of being the middle man between holding all the responsibility and none of it. If he were a couple months older… or maybe it’s just because Anti knows he’s a shitty fighter.

He sighs and returns to Blue’s side.

“Okay, big blanket, big blanket…”

“Blue, why are we getting a big blanket?”

“What, you like sleeping on your mattress without anything to cover you? Cozy in your jeans and t-shirt?”

Dok sighs. “That mattress isn’t even mine. Anti only got it for Dapper.”

Blue looks over at him, a flicker of sympathy on his mouth. “Well, all the more reason to make sure we have a couple blankets around. Anyway, I think Red likes having things like that when he’s… upset.”

“You’ll get two?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that. Here - ah, the big fuzzy blankets. Feel these, Alle.”

Dok reaches out to touch the blankets and can’t help a smile from crossing his mouth.

“Soft,” he admits.

“Yeah.”

Blue picks out a purple one and a red one, humming to himself enthusiastically. Dok is distracted by some of the ones a little farther down the aisle.

Anonymous asked: Nope, you did this to yourself, Red. We will forever tease you now.

“No, no, no! Hey, you’re all bastards! I’m easily distracted! That’s not my fault. What’s the opposite of saying merry Christmas, huh? I’m going to fight you all.”

He nearly crashes into someone in his protest and has to duck away. When he brings his attention back to you, he is laughing, with a bright red blush glowing on his cheeks.

“Ahhh,” he chuckles - or maybe groans - hiding his face. “I don’t know if you guys knew this but… I’m a little dumb.”

Anonymous asked: Don’t worry, we knew that lonnnnnng before you were ever Red, sweetheart.

“Hey! Haha, wait, what do you mean? No, maybe I don’t want to know.”

Anonymous asked: Awww get Trick a fluffy blanket!! Then it’ll be like a hug from his Deutsch every time he uses it. Oh wait wait wait, what if you got him a music player? With that song, Saturn on it? It’s by Sleeping at Last and you mentioned it being his favorite when in the shed. I think he’d love it a lot. Although I’m not sure how much money you guys have...or if you could even find one there.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What if you guys try to find a weighted blanket for Trick?

bupine requested: I really wanna see dok get something for trick to help with his anxiety and stuff, like a weighted blanket (if he doesn’t already have one I don’t remember) or a fidget toy or literally anything dsugdufg I just want trick to feel better!!

“Blue?”

“Yeah, bud?”

Blue looks up to see Dok with his arms full of a small but weighty yellow sun-pattern blanket.

“Can I… can I get this? I don’t… have quite enough.”

Blue softens and reaches over to run his hands down the heavy fabric before checking the price tag. “Not terrible, really. I haven’t gotten him anything yet. I’ll help you with it.”

Doktor relaxes, holding the blanket and Trick’s sweatshirt close to his chest. “Thank you, Blau. Really, I…”

“I know, Deutsch. I know.”

Doktor smiles at him, a little vigor back in his grin.

“About ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go find Roser.”

reverseblackholeofwords asked: Blue? How's the uh... Glowing?

Dok snatches one of Blue’s hands out of his pockets to double-check it.

“Looks okay now,” he declares, turning his hand over a couple times.

“In your professional opinion?” asks Blue.

“Always.”

Blue laughs and then sighs, looking down at his fingers.

“I don’t… know how to make it come and go. I think I used to, once. But now it just burns.”

Dok frowns, staring at his hands.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red, do you have anything in mind for Dap? Or for Dok?

“Yeah! Well, I got Dap his bear, so I hope that’s good. But Dok I wanted to get him coffee. Cause he never gets it, but he always talks about it, haha. And maybe… well, I don’t think they have nice, like, doctor’s coats here… but some day, I really think he should have a nice coat. I’ve never been able to afford it before.”

He sighs, glancing down at his cash.

“Maybe, um. For his birthday, I could ask Anti to get it for him. I think their birthday is in May. 14th? Maybe? Ah, bad big brother alert. But anyway, some coffee. Hey, don’t my other boys like tea? I’ll get some… um… what kind of tea is good tea? For Trick and Dap?”

immabethehero asked: (May 14th is near the main camera's birthday.) Dok's birthday is September 15th!

“September? Dok’s and Trick’s?”

Red pauses, confused. For a second, he almost looks pained.

“No, no… I… I don’t think that’s right. I think it’s in May. That’s their day.”

immabethehero asked: I feel like all of them would like stuffed animals. maybe Anti would as well! Craft supplies for Dapper and Blue likesketchbooks and drawing pencils!!! Maybe a card set for Blue!!! Running shoes for Red or a hoodie. a new Nerf Gun for Trick! A puzzle book for Doc?

“Ah, cards for Blue! And puzzles for Dok! Like logic puzzles? Dude, I actually think he’d love that.”

Red checks that Blue and Dok aren’t far off and that there is no one in a baseball cap in sight, and then hurries to the book section to grab both.

On his camera, Blue laughs at a tiny little Nerf pistol and grabs it for Trick, making Dok smile.

cest-mellow asked: did anti give you guys different birthdays? when is your birthday, red? and blues and dapper and anti?

“Dapper’s birthday is October 31 and Anti’s is August 3rd. I don’t actually remember our birthday, haha! Anti will surprise us, I suppose. Isn’t that funny? Sometimes I really don’t remember anything at all. I guess I hit my head really hard. Or… something.”

immabethehero asked: WAIT THEY SHARE A BIRTHDAY???? OH!!! Uh perhaps!!! Make sense to put it in the middle of their real birth months. May 13th?

“Ha, I don’t think Anti would make up a birthday for us. He remembers better than the rest of us is all. May 13 or 14 or something, I think.”

Anonymous asked: I take it the "birthdays" mark when Anti popped into your lives, rather than actual creation. Only worth bothering with if he's involved somehow.

“Haha,” says Red, but he looks uncomfortable. “Um, I don’t know. You’d have to talk to Anti.”

bupine asked: what are you guys getting for anti then? if anything at all fhffghfhg he seems like the type of guy who's Somewhat difficult to buy gifts for

“I don’t know,” sighs Red, a little stressed. “What does he need? Gauze, bleach, batteries, cords, wires, computers, radios, tvs… he has everything, I don’t know. What does Anti even like? Getting us stuff? Hacking shit? Damn, I miss when we used to spend days hacking that… channel, or whatever. Can’t remember the last time I coded. Used to be speedy. Taking care of us? When we’re being good, haha. He likes that - he’s controlling, even, sometimes. Maybe he wants, um…”

Red pauses, staring.

He’s next to this little display of succulents and cacti.

He watches it for a long time.

“Nope,” he says, taking one step away. “I do not have the courage to get Anti anything as stupid as a cactus. I don’t think I’ll get him anything but the batteries… ugh, but that’s so lame…”

Anonymous asked: Get Anti a stress ball. Or a rubix cube. Or crochet hooks. Dude needs a hobby.

“Haha! Yeah… maybe he does.”

Red pauses, looking around him.

“But… I don’t have it in me to tell him that.”

He spots Blue and Dok and heads back towards them, trying to put his smile back on.

“Let’s just go. I never seem to do quite right by him.”

Anonymous asked: Do y’all have everything? It might be time to head home.

“Yeah,” grins Red wearily. “Yeah, let’s head out. Bus’ll be at the stop soon.”

They pay, pack what they can into their backpacks and bags, and head out the store. It doesn’t take them long to get back to the bus stop, chatting the whole way, with Red eagerly quizzing his siblings on what they got him, and the two of them refusing to answer honestly, though Doktor makes mention of some fancy Anti-Stupidity gear he thinks the both of them will benefit from.

By the time they get on the bus, Doktor is sleepier than he would ever admit, warm in the equator sun and tired by much more exercise than he’s used to. Feeling warm in more than one sense, he allows his head to drop onto Blue’s shoulder, and closes his eyes with his brother’s arm around him.

Which is when he hears: “Red! Red!”

“What?”

“Red - the man - ”

And both of his siblings, on either side of him, stiffen like sculptures.

Anonymous asked: Is everything okay?? Is the man back

Red turns you on his shoulder so you can see. A glimpse of his white face and taut mouth, and then you can see the man.

He sits on the other side of the bus, that cap low over his eyes. Dark curls of hair drift about his shoulders. He has a fine, thin mouth and long hands stretched over his knees. He stands. There were seats when Dok and Blue and Red got on, but not when the man did.

“Red,” whispers Blue, though he does not know what for.

“Yes,” says Red, in answer to nothing and everything. “Yes.”

Anonymous asked: Ay, just play it cool. Let the guy make the first move if he does at all. It could just be a coincidence, right?

“Let’s see if it is,” whispers Red through his teeth, tightening his grip on his twin’s hand. “Blue, you know the way back home.”

“What?”

“At the next stop, take your little brother and get off. If he tries to follow you, he won’t get far.”

“Red, I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Did I give you an order?”

“Don’t start that with me, we both know - ”

“Did I give you an order?” spits Red, whirling on him.

Blue quiets, his mouth trembling just a little.

“Well? Did I?”

“Yes, Red.”

“Is your duty to me or to Dok?”

“To… to my little brothers. But Red - ”

“At the next stop, you take Dok and get off. You go home whether or not I follow. Understood? Blue, am I understood?”

“Yes, Red. Yes.”

“Good, then.”

There is a long pause between them. Doktor has not opened his eyes. Sometimes he finds it easier to pretend things aren’t happening. His whole life seems to be arguing and putting brothers back in their places.

“I love you,” says Red shortly.

“I love you too,” answers Blue, with nothing but grief.

Anonymous asked: Blue don’t explode, just relax and maybe hold Dok’s hand? Just try to keep a grip on your magic.

Blue winces and sinks down in his seat, clutching onto Dok’s hand. At this, his little brother, still playing asleep at his side, gives a short, firm squeeze in response - cool, measured, professional.

He sets his head down on Doktor’s and tries to breathe.

The next stop comes with the hissing of the brakes and the rough exhale of weary smoke. Blue clutches the fuzzy blanket on his chest and gets up, pulling Dok along with him. His eyes set straight ahead, he refuses to look at the man as he walks, refuses to look as he passes, refuses to look as he exits the bus…

Still, he catches one thing - the small, delicate symbol of a raven on a leather bracelet on the man’s wrist.

The man moves as if to get off as well, but then, as Doktor and Blue pass him, he jolts slightly and waits, but no one else comes. After long minutes have passed, after the bus has started off again, he turns casually back and sees -

Red’s eyes.

Blue as cold ocean water.

Burning into him like a wood fire.

He turns around again and stares out the window of the bus as Red’s eyes bore into him.

Anonymous asked: Get off at a different stop. If he follows still, lose him and either walk from there or get on the bus again to your actual stop. How long is it between bus routes?

“I don’t know,” mumbles Red. You shake slightly on his shoulder as his leg bounces at a hundred kilometers a minute. “This might be my chance to follow him. I can stalk him somewhere we won’t be seen. Or, maybe, now that he knows I’m aware of him, he’ll be smart and just leave us be… the next stop is a couple miles from my usual stop, but I don’t mind if I have to walk.”

He pauses, chewing on his lip, his eyes flickering around. After a moment he draws out the shitty old flip-phone he carries sometimes and reaches down to the contacts to click on the only name there: Anti.

The phone rings and rings, but doesn’t pick up.

Has he ever not picked up before?

Red swears, tucking it away again, glaring at the back of the man’s head.

“I don’t know if I should follow or just go home. I need to find out what’s happening, but I’m also alone and he could be dangerous.”

spicydanhowell asked: don't follow him, red. just try anti again. if he doesn't pick up, go home and tell him what happened. it would be very dangerous to go all by yourself

Red likes that idea. He grabs the phone and tries again, eager for his little brother’s assurances.

The phone vibrates patiently, again and again.

Then it stops.

“Anti?” calls Red, after a moment, when he doesn’t get a greeting. “Are you there?”

A slight buzz on the other end of the line.

He thinks he can hear someone shouting somewhere.

“Anti?” repeats Red, a little frightened. “Anti?”

There’s a soft clicking - familiar, somehow.

“Dapper?”

Something slams in the background. Someone whistles.

Red waits, but no answer ever comes.

The call ends.

Anonymous asked: Do NOT go home. Don’t lead him to your house or the others.

“He can’t follow me,” mumbles Red, eyes angry. “Nobody could follow me up the mountain without me noticing. But I could trail him for a while and make sure he knows I’ll kill him if he tries to follow me anywhere.”

Anonymous asked: Red, you can handle yourself. Get off at the next stop and then try to get away, or stay on the bus stall for time so Blue and Dok can get back and tell Anti. Try to determine if he has any weapons on him. Are you armed?

“I’m always armed.”

Red touches the pocket of his hoodie, where a retractable staff you’ve seen before sits in its pouch. “It’s not much, but it’s enough.”

He pauses, thinking. “Even if I lost him, you’re right - I need to make sure Blue and Dok get back to Anti. And if they can tell him what’s going on, there’s less need for me to be there. Maybe I should follow… at least for a little while…”

The bus sighs to a stop.

bupine asked: i feel like you should follow him! it's clear he wants something with you and your brothers, and if he turns out to be a threat you can eliminate him. otherwise he'll just kind of be out there, doing god knows what. following him and finding out what his objective is would make it safer for you and your brothers in the long run, as long as you don't do anything stupid or reckless

His chest bubbles with anger. He gets to his feet.

“I’ll follow him for a little while. Stay with me, okay? If something happens, you’ll need to be able to tell my brothers.”

The man walks off the bus without looking at him, and Red slips through the crowd after him. He could swear that he can feel the connection between them - the cold bond of predator and prey.

He doesn’t know which role he’s playing. Heat burns crimson in his chest.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Try to be objective, Jackie. You're going to need as many wits about you as you can!

“Objective,” he mumbles, sliding through the crowd. He moves always from crowd to crowd, hiding spot to hiding spot, blending in to blending in again somewhere new, a chameleon with a red hood drawn over his head.

“Objective with someone stalking my Blue.” He stands out in the open for a moment, but no one spares him a second glance as he stands casually and glances at his phone, one figure among hundreds. You lose track of the man’s head, but Red never does.

“The last time someone was chasing us, Trick nearly killed himself and we had to flee our home. The time before that, I’m told Dok was shot and Anti nearly died protecting him. Feels like we’re always being hunted. I don’t care who by anymore. I just want my family to be safe. If I could just get rid of the people who hunt us. If I could just get rid of everyone who ever came near us…”

He slips away again. You are in a quieter part of the city now. Laundry hangs out of the glass-less windows of concrete houses and dogs eye Red warily from the shade of dark alleyways. Women walk home with their keys clutched tightly between their fingers. Red follows the man.

Anonymous asked: Get off in a public place and then wait. If its in a public area, he can’t do anything without drawing the attention of other people. Figure out what he wants, and stall as long as you can. Make sure there are plenty escape routes if you need to get away, and be careful.

“That’s a good point… but we’re getting less public as we go. He may be intentionally leading me somewhere quieter. Could even be a trap, I don’t know… I don’t know who he is or what he wants. I’m used to running from cops, PIs, government workers, anybody official, you know? But he just looks so normal. Maybe he’s plain-clothes, but he’s so young, and almost disheveled. He could - hey!”

Red hisses and withdraws into the shadows of a building, staring down the alleyway where he thought he’d seen the man go.

“He disappeared! There’s no doors down there that I can see. How did he do that?”

He pauses, staring, but the man does not reappear.

He tries not to shiver in a sudden chill wind.

Anonymous asked: Red, he’s leading you away from a public place! Get away, he’s trying to corner you!

Grinding his teeth, Red withdraws slightly, staring around him. The people on the street all seem to have retreated into homes and run-down buildings, or maybe they’ve all gone away entirely.

Wind ruffles through Red’s hair.

There is something very hard in his eyes.

He takes a step into the alley.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, random question, are there any birds nearby?

Jackie glances around.

A pair of swallows flit through the air as little black figures far above him.

Above a closed restaurant down the block, a worn statue of an owl perches with dead eyes.

Across the street, he makes eye contact with a carrion bird, bald and wrinkled and hateful in the filthy street, glaring at him with ragged wings and scarred face.

“The birds work for the bourgeoisie?” he jokes weakly, trying to smile at you.

Something crunches in the alley. He whirls back around.

There is still no one there he can see.

reverseblackholeofwords asked: Red, has anyone *magical* ever come after you guys before? Maybe someone who can sense Blue's power?

Red is backing away now, his mouth taut.

“Sometimes Anti talks about old friends… from when we belonged to our first master. Sometimes Anti talks about hiding Blue’s and Dapper’s scents… but I can never smell anything on them.

“Sometimes I think the world has a lot more danger in it than Anti lets me see. Sometimes I think there are things only he and Blue and Dapper can see.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, Dok, are you two doing okay? Red tried to call Anti but Dapper picked up instead...either Anti passed out again or something’s up. Be careful but hurry home! Red is going to tail the guy for a little bit and see what he wants. We have no idea if there’s more than one guy though, so keep an eye out.

“Oh, fuck, I wish he wouldn’t,” gasps Blue, halfway sprinting down the street, Dok clinging to his hand at his side. “Did he really go to trail someone all on his own? Fuck, he’s going to get hurt! What, and now Anti’s not answering? Fuck, fuck.”

“Blue,” Dok insists, tugging at his sleeve. “Try to calm down, he can handle himself.”

“I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I know. Me neither. But we don’t know where he is right now. Let’s just get home and make sure everyone’s okay back there. For all we know, Red will be waiting for us, uh?”

Blue gives a long exhale through his teeth, trying to listen to his little brother.

“Okay. Okay. Not far now, just a few more miles.”

“Ahhh,” groans Doktor. “I’m tired already. Anti let me get so fat…”

Blue snorts out a laugh despite himself, and Dok winks when he turns back to smile at him.

Anonymous asked: Hey Blue, are shapeshifters a thing?

“Oh, hm.” Blue frowns, trying to think. “Oh, I remember so little… I’m not supposed to talk about magic, you know… but hey, you’ve seen Anti, haven’t you? You know there are things that are not quite human, that can change at will. And then there are things like me, that are quite human, but… different. Touched by something not quite human. And then there are beings like Dapper. I remember so little… I used to know, shit, I swear I used to know…”

bupine asked: ok, starting to think this was a bad idea. probably get the fuck outta there red, tell anti about what happened and see if he can do anything about it. we don't want you to get fucking shanked fhejgfhjcjgd. badlypostedmusicals and three anons voiced similar concerns and were copied here.

“You know what,” breathes Red, backing away. “I think you might be right.”

But he cannot seem to turn his back on the alley.

Something is there.

He cannot see it. He cannot smell it. He cannot find it at all. But he feels it the same way he could swear he feels it when Anti is home or away - like something is shifting, pulsing, unraveling in his rapid heart.

“Okay,” he whispers, to you, to himself, to anyone who might be listening. “I’m just… going to go now.”

He turns his back on the alley. You turn with him.

And so it is that you do not see the man coming -

All you know is that suddenly, Red is jerked back, and he cries aloud in his shock and his fear, and, at the very corner of your vision, you can see the silver gleam of the knife at his throat.

Arms wearing the green sleeves of the man’s coat press it sharply to his Adam’s apple.

“Muévete,” comes a sharp, hissing whisper. “Y te mataré, demonio.”

He yanks Red back down the alley, deeper into the shadows.

Anonymous asked: The man knows about Anti

Red chokes as blood blooms on his neck, dragged back into the alley, panting.

The man knows about Anti. The man knows about Anti.

His little brother, his commander, his universe. How long has he protected him? How much has he seen him through? Anti’s given him everything he has. Anti’s sacrificed himself more than once to give Red everything he has.

The man knows about Anti. The man knows about my little brother, splayed out in his bed back home, sick with fatigue and distress. The man knows about my Anti.

Fury explodes across Red’s brain.

“Get the fuck off me!” he screams, and he shoves himself back so hard the man slams into the wall of the alleyway. Blood sprays across Red’s neck and he gasps, but it is not deep enough to stop him, and he leaps away from the man’s grasp and whirls on him, grabbing him by the coat.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: But who is it though

“Who are you?” shouts Red, slamming him back against the wall of the alley once, twice. “Who are you, you bastard, you creep! I’ll kill you! I’m going to fucking kill you!”

The man gives a wordless shout and kicks out at Red’s chest. Red barely back away, stumbling back and nearly slipping on - ice? Here? In the heat?

Red gasps and turns back to the man - but he is vanished again.

“What the fuck?” Red whispers, stepping off the patch of ice beneath his feet.

And then something slams into him, and he crumples to the ground, crying out at the sensation of an elbow connecting with his nose. The man reappears as though he’d been photo-shopped out a second ago, and suddenly he is pinning Red to the earth and drawing back a cold silver knife. Ice crackles and grows beneath Red’s body, holding him in place.

“Capataz de esclavos,” spits the man. “Liberaré a los otros hombres por tu muerte!”

“No hablo español, gilipollas!” Red returns, furious. “Let me go!”

Anonymous asked: Goddammit Anti this is why you piCK UP YOUR PHONE!

Checking back on your camera in Trick’s room, you see Anti startle awake at the persistent beeping of the camera, panting hard just from the shock of getting up. His black eyes fix blearily on you and his hands clench and unclench on his blankets as he tries dazedly to get the message through his head.

“Pick up my phone?” he coughs, trying to push the blankets off his legs. When did everything get so heavy. “My… my phone, where… where are all my boys…”

He stares around the room, licking at his dry lips. A little blood comes running from his eyes and he groans as his distress rises.

“Trick!” he croaks out, in a voice that shakes like an earthquake. “Dapper! Where are you? Where are all my boys? What’s going on? Need my computer, my…”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and has to stop there, the color draining from his face. You see a great dark stain of blood seeping into the bedsheets where he lay.

“D-Doktor,” he whispers, his eyes drifting. “Doktor, I want my…”

Anonymous asked: ANTI YOU GET YOUR SAD ASS UP NOW AND FIX THIS ! JACKIE JUST GOT SNATCHED AND THE MAN KNOWS WHO YOU ARE

“Snatched?”

Anti’s voice glitches horribly. Every noise you can hear from his camera begins to ring painfully through your ears.

He staggers to his feet, blood pouring down his face.

“Snatched? Snatched? My Red? Who, who? Where is my boy? Where is my guard dog? No, no, no, get him back for me, give him back! Dapper! Dapper! Jameson! Where are my fucking boys? Give him back, give him back! Hoodie! Red!”

He tries to glitch away from you and you hear him give a scream before he reappears a second later and crumples on the side of his bed, wailing.

Anonymous asked: (excuse my translator spanish, but-) Dumbass, él es uno de esos hombres que estás tratando de liberar! ¡Detener!

I also would like to apologize for my translator Spanish. Feel free to help me out if you know better - as you’ve seen, I prefer to just put what’s being said in italicized English, but we can’t do that without Blue to translate. I would never use translator Spanish for a fic but on an ask blog where we’re writing without drafts or an actual translators to help me in real time, I hope you’ll forgive me. :) Thanks for sticking with me!

The man blinks down at the camera, confused.

“¿No él?” He stares down at Red. Red glares back up. “¿Quién es la oscuridad dentro de sus cabezas?”

“I’ll show you la oscuridad,” hisses Red, and he slams his knee through the ice that binds him, and drives it up and into the man’s stomach.

Anonymous asked: Anti, I don't know where exactly, but blue and Dok split off from Red to get away from the guy, they would be closest to red but we don't know where any of them are specifically. Hell I don't even know why trick and dapper aren't responding to you. Did you do something?

“No, no, I’ve been asleep, I thought they’d be here with me, Trick always sleeps when I sleep and Dap was just playing like a good boy, wh-where have my boys gone? My window is, why… I - split from Red, where did he… where would he go, who would hurt him, my Red…”

Anti shudders suddenly and jerks to the side, spitting a long stream of blood from his mouth. He’s starting to get very white. His pupils are pinpricks in blue and brown eyes.

Anonymous asked: shit shit shit!! blue, red just got attacked! you have to get to anti for help!

“What?” shouts Blue, stopping in the middle of the pathway. A woman pokes her head out of her doorway, frowning.

bupine asked: hey blue, dok, just thought y'all should know that red just got fuckin jumped in an alleyway by some random dude, not quite sure who it is but anyway more on this story as it develops i guess?? stay strong and get home quickly guys I'm sure he'll be just fine

“Holy shit!” shouts Blue, letting go of Doktor’s hand and beginning to sprint up the mountain, something Dok thinks should probably be impossible, seeing as he can’t seem to go two steps without slipping.

“Blue, wait!” he cries, struggling up the mountain after his brother. “Blue, your hands! Calm down! You must calm down, your hands! Idiot, wait!”

Anonymous asked: Oh gosh Blue, the man he knows what Anti is and he’s got Red now

“He knows… he knows what Anti is?”

Blue finally pauses, staring back down the mountain, his eyes wet.

You can see so much of the city from here. From the slums grow silver buildings towering up over crowded streets. Gorgeous churches spread wide their gardens and cathedrals, bustling marketplaces swarm with chattering people, the mountainside crawls with little houses and hard-working people for as far as the eye can see. And down, down, down from the mountain, the ocean spreads its arms to hug the whole city, glittering blue in the December sun.

“Fuck, Red,” Blue whispers. “Please be okay. Whoever we’re dealing with… this is no ordinary enemy.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, the man who attacked Red is only attacking him because he thinks he’s Anti. He wants to free all of you, he’s good!

“Free us? Free us from what? He’ll take Red away from us! Anti can’t help it that he was made looking like a monster! He can’t help it what he is! We don’t need to be freed from anyone! That’s my little brother!”

He turns his eyes back towards the house, panting.

“And he’s in trouble, now. Dok, come on!”

Anonymous asked: Okay, what about energy? Can you sense magical “scents” or whatever? Is there something people like you can see that others, like Red, can’t?

“I do get the smells Anti talks about,” Blue admits, panting his way up the mountain. “I smell dust and copper and petrichor when Dapper uses his magic, most of the time. And Anti I can always sense - he seems to make the air burn. Sometimes my hands, too, but I don’t know why. He says I used to fear him, in another life. I guess part of me still thinks he’s dangerous… treacherous heart. I don’t know about seeing things, though. Maybe?”

Anonymous asked: Yes, but we’ve managed to get the man to stop for now. But dapper and Trick have disappeared and Anti is basically dying on the floor in their bedroom. He was calling for...Doktor.

“Dapper and Trick are gone? What? This is fucking crazy, this is crazy! Okay, we’re almost there, just let me get to the house… fuck, Dok, can’t you keep up?”

“Fuck you,” calls Dok, looking stressed. “I’m going so fast right now, arschloch. It’s a mountain, Blue, and my bag is heavy. How are you doing this with your arms full of blankets?”

Blue keeps heading up the path.

Anonymous asked: Marvin, I don’t think you believe that, do you? Anti has taken everything away from you. Look at what he’s done now! He’s trapped Trick- Chase- in a room for being drepressed! He’s brainwashed Jackie into becoming a guard dog, conditioned Henrik to be his servant, and raised Jameson as a child on a leash! You know this isn’t right. Can’t you remember?! You came after them, that’s why you’re here now, you came to free your brothers and got trapped!

“No!” screams Blue.

At last he stumbles like Doktor as the sand shifts beneath him and he yelps as he crumples to his knees, unable to catch himself with his arms full.

“No, that’s not true! Don’t say that, don’t you dare fucking say that! Anti’s given us everything we have! Anti’s all that keeps us safe! Anti loves us, loves Trick and Dok and Red and Dapper! He isn’t always perfect, I know, but he does what he thinks is best for us! I know that! He loves me, he has to! Otherwise, what is all of this fucking for?”

He strikes the jagged rubble of the mountainside with a scream.

And the mountain - the mountain that has become his home, his heart, his sanctuary - the mountain rumbles in return.

Blue stares down at hands that glow blue as fire, horrified. He hears people crying out farther down the mountain and sees, from the corner of his eyes, the vecinos running for cover. But no earthquake follows, no collapse - the one rumble answers him alone.

He can’t breathe. His hands glow.

“Blue.”

Warm hands fall to his shoulders with a grounding pressure and someone shakes him relentlessly, forcing him to look up. He meets Doktor’s eyes with his own shocked gaze, and he sees in his little brother’s face a familiar kind of strength - strength like Red’s, cool and unshakeable, steadfast and protective.

Doktor holds his shoulders. Blue meets his gaze.

The glowing fades.

“We don’t have time for this,” says Dok, very softly.

“I know,” whispers Blue, a tear tracing a path down his face. “I’m so sorry. Let’s go.”

Dok reaches down to help him.

And Blue, the elder, accepts his little brother’s help, and gets back to his feet.

nikkilbook asked: Someone supernatural was following the boys, and Red lagged behind to keep the others safe. Do we have permission to have Dapper rewind? And for Blue to use his power to help defend them? This guy knows about you.

“No, no, no, no blue power,” Anti mumbles, his eyes rolling a little in his skull. “That’s why… how else would someone have found us, how… no blue power, no, no….”

badlypostedmusicals asked: Guys, the man is after Anti. Once he's through with red he will go after him, and I don't think that he's strong enough to fend off an attack. Maybe one of you should go back?

“Let me check in at the house first.” Blue tries to keep his voice steady.

cest-mellow asked: dok? blue are you gonna be home soon? anti needs dok, he’s hurt.

“Here we are, here we are.” Stressed, Blue tugs open the door of the clinic they have made their home with one of the keys Anti allows him to keep. But even before he can push in to the house, Doktor is pushing past him, and dashing to the room at the end of the hall.

“Still locked!” he cries, yanking on the handle. “Master, let us in! Anti, I’m here, I’m here, little brother! It’s me, it’s okay! Trick? Trick, are you in there?”

“The eyes said Trick and Dapper weren’t in there with him,” Blue calls. “If the door is locked, they must have gotten out another way!”

He darts back out of the door and circles around the house, finding the shattered window that leads to Trick’s room - a tiny, tiny window, barely big enough to let the light in, let alone a body. But there are footprints in the dirt beneath the sill.

Blue swears and uses the new blankets to brush glass from the open window, jumping up to squeeze in as best he can. He gets a couple cuts on his hands and back, but it does not matter.

Anti is very still beside the bed, his white face dripping blood.

“Oh, oh, Anti,” gasps Blue, running to his side. “Oh, love, what were you thinking? Why didn’t you just tell us, amata?”

Anti barely stirs, his lips parting. His eyes closed.

Blue gets up to let Doktor in.

“Anti, Anti!” Doktor dissolves into German babbling, falling down at Anti’s side and pulling him into his arms, already holding his first aid kit. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay! I fix, I fix!”

At the sound of his voice, something stirs behind the closed door of the bathroom.

badlypostedmusicals asked: Is it one of Anti's old friends? Do you remember anything he may have told you?

“I can’t imagine Anit having any kind of old friends,” mumbles Blue, brushing hair from his torturer’s face. “He’s a little paranoid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed. I think you mean an old enemy… No, I don’t know, I don’t know who it could be. Something strange about that sigil on his arm… almost familiar, but from so long ago. Lifetimes ago.”

“You should be careful what you speak of,” warns Dok lowly, pulling Anti’s shirt off. It glitches oddly and disappears, but Anti is still wearing a shirt.

“His fucking anatomy!” Doktor shouts, slamming his hand against the ground. “He’s barely a physical being, how am I supposed to do this?”

“Just bandage him up with the shirt on or something, Dok! Give him medicine or something!”

“His body has rejected every medicine I’ve ever given him and my twin would get punished for it every time. No, no. Let me see if I can bind him up - maybe if I distract him I can get the shirt to go away? Or something? Fuck, this wound is new, but you know what this is?”

Doktor points to a soaking wound in Anti’s back. His eyes are full of tears.

“This is where Carver stabbed him. Weeks ago now. He has never once let me look at it. I have not been a good enough doctor to earn his trust.”

He hiccups through sobs, yanking gauze out of his bag. “This is all my fault. Now I don’t even know where my little brothers are. He was right - I can’t protect anyone he gives to me.”

Anonymous asked: Oh god I’m going to cry, is that Trick behind the door?

Doktor stiffens, staring at the camera, his hands frozen around the gauze.

“Dok,” warns Blue, grabbing his shoulders in mimicry of his own comfort. “Dok, stay focused. Anti needs you.”

“T-trick… behind the door? In the bathroom?”

“Dok, stay with Anti, let me check - ”

“No!” cries Dok, leaping to his feet and shoving the gauze into Blue’s hands. “No, I’ll just check real quick!”

“Deutsch, what the hell are you thinking? You’re going to get in so much fucking trouble!”

“Just wrap that around Anti’s back! I’ll be right back!”

And he practically leaps over Blue to get to the bathroom in the back of the room, his heart thudding so hard in his chest he can barely breathe. He remembers, so vividly, waking up to Dapper’s shrill, desperate whistling, finding his baby brother curled over his twin, Trickshot shaking like a riptide as his body went into shock from the overdose. He remembers being so distressed he could barely save him, working over the sound of Anti’s screaming and the feeling of his heartbeat dwindling beneath his hands. He remembers spilled pills and vomit.

“No,” he gasps, pulling open the bathroom door. “No, no, no.”

“Dok?” comes Trick’s small voice. “Is that… really you?”

He lies pale against the wall beside the shower, his face blotchy and red from crying. It makes his eyes seem brighter than ever - he stares up at Doktor like the whole of the sky is there in his gaze.

“You’re a dream,” mumbles Trick dazedly. “I… I’ve wanted to see you for so long.”

Doktor trembles above him, trying to find the strength to kneel down at his side. Tears flow down his cheeks.

“How many did you take?” he whispers, in a ghost’s voice.

The bathroom floor is littered with pills - Fanapt, Dapper’s latest prescription. Anti kept it in the drawer beside the bed.

“None,” whispers Trick in reply.

Doktor is sobbing, clutching at his chest. He crumples at his twin’s side and reaches out to hold his face between his hands, halfway to hysterical.

“How many did you take?” he screams.

“None.”

“How many, how many?”

“None. None, I swear.”

“I can’t do this again!”

“I know.”

“I can’t lose you, please, please, no!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Tell me you didn’t do this, tell me you didn’t take any!”

“I didn’t. I didn’t.”

Doktor dissolves into tears on his shoulder, throwing himself over Trick’s body, and then, after so long, they are holding each other again.

Trick holds him so tight he could shatter for the love of it, letting Doktor press him back hard against the wall, clutching at his hair and pushing his face into his shoulder. Hot wet tears fall down on Doktor’s head.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” sobs Trick. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You really didn’t take any? You really didn’t? Swear to me, swear to me on everything you are.”

“I’ll swear to you on the only thing I’m fucking living for,” Trick cries, pressing his lips to the side of his head. “In your name, I swear, I didn’t take any, not a single one. I was going to, I wanted to. I needed this to stop. This hurts so fucking much some days I can’t do anything but scream and sleep. I needed it to stop - but then I kept seeing you crying over me, I kept hearing you calling my name. I was conscious the whole time you were saving my life, Dok, do you know that? I could hear you. I wanted to die when I took the Percocet, but I took it all back the goddamn second I heard you crying, Deutsch, Deutsch - ”

They collapse into each other’s arms again, half splayed out on the floor of that bathroom, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but that he’s here, he’s here, here in his arms, here in his arms, safe and alive and perfect as ever.

“I love you so much,” Doktor sobs. “I love you so fucking much.”

And Trick - Trick, there in his weakness and in his strength, Trick in his whole and in his shattered pieces - Trick looks at his brother, at his twin, at his heart, and he gives him back the word that Anti lets every twin safeguard for the other:

“I love you too, Henrik.”

And if Doktor leans in and lays his head back on his shoulder, whispering promises and assurances and affectations and a secret name of his own keeping, holding his twin so close he can feel his steady heartbeat, well, there is no one awake who is going to stop them from being, in that moment, the people they were always meant to be.

cest-mellow asked: ok, we found trick, but wheres dapper? Whydoilovesomanyvillians and pixie-in-trebleland also asked where they were and were copied here.

“Trick, do you know?”

“Oh, no… I heard him breaking the window, actually, but I was kind of… out of it. Barely registered it. Look, he tore the shower rod out to smash it in.”

Blue opens the bathroom door and grabs Dok by the collar, hauling him back to his feet.

“If you two are done re-enacting a reverse ending of Romeo and Juliet, you’ll remember that we’re in the middle of a fucking emergency! Thank you! Dok, clean Anti up. Trick, what the hell do you mean? Was he running away? Was he pyschotic, is he okay?”

“I don’t think so! He seemed fine this morning! A little twitchy, maybe, a little stuck in his own head, but you know Dap.”

“Ugh, why is it so fucking dusty in here? You have two rooms and you can’t even keep them clean. It smells like an antique shop in here.”

“I don’t smell anything, dude. Put your hands up straight and give me a complete sentence, I want to check for stroke.”

“Trickshot!”

Blue hauls him to his feet and drags him towards the door. “Since you weren’t watching, you can be the one who helps me look for him. Put your shoes on, let’s go!”

the-weirdest-fan asked: Anti, calm down. You can't go to him like this. Red's handling it fine, and if things go wrong, which is unlikely to happen, you can get Dapper to reverse. It's okay that you can't control this situation right now, because if you try to you might not be able to control anything later. So please calm yourself. Lie down. Rest.

Doktor sits down with Anti again, patching him up as best he can with steady, practiced hands.

“Dapper,” he moans, shifting in his sleep. “Dok…”

“Here I am, here I am,” murmurs Doktor, wiping blood from his face with a cool washcloth. “Listen to them, time to rest. Everything will be okay. The good doctor’s got you. Rest. You never do, my brother.”

Anonymous asked: Red, are you okay?

“Just - fucking - peachy!”

Red is a snarling, furious whirlwind of a fighter, not fast but strong, strong and sturdy and venomous, spinning his staff around in his hands like a hypnotist with something to prove. He has driven the man back, back, towards the wall, forcing him on the defensive with nothing but the small knife. The stranger leaps to the side as Red swings the staff hard at his arm, threatening to shatter bone, and darts forward a moment later to aim a stab at Red’s side. But Red knows better than anything how to spar with someone wielding a knife - he sees the oncoming blade, tracks it trajectory, and raises a foot to kick it straight out of the man’s hand.

The stranger backs away, eyes darkening.

“My baby brother still plays with dolls and he could kick your ass with both his hands behind his back,” roars Red, spinning the staff around again. “Who the fuck do you think you are, holding a knife to my throat, stalking my fucking family? I’ll kill you!”

He leaps forward staff swinging. The man raises his hand and spikes of ice explode from the ground in front of Red, making him yelp with surprise. One of them slams hard into his face and he howls, dropping his staff to clutch at his cheek. Without hesitating, the man follows up on the attack with a burst of ice in mid-air that slashes, cold, across Red’s stomach, cutting a line through his hoodie. He yells and crumples to his knees, fumbling for his staff as blood begins to leak through his hoodie.

“Don’t know how to handle clean magic, do you?” crows the stranger in a heavy accent, retrieving his knife. “Everything inside you is corrupted, I can smell it! Would it be a mercy to put you to death, Rojo?”

“Fuck you,” snarls Red, looking up with teeth gritted and blood-soaked. He grabs his staff and staggers back to his feet, his heart pumping hard in his chest.

Anonymous asked: RED CUT IT OUT for a second! Let us sort this out! El demonio que buscas. Los hemos estado apoyando lo mejor que hemos podido. Disculpe nuestro amigo aquí ... él no sabe nada mejor.

“Perhaps you are right,” pants the stranger, spinning his blade in his hand. “Perhaps he does not know any better. Su cabeza esta llena de sombras. But still I must to defend myself.”

“I wouldn’t say must,” spits Red, stalking forward again, a wild light in his eyes. “You could make this a lot easier on yourself if you let me impale you where you stand, after all.”

Anonymous asked: Red he might think you're Anti

“Anti,” breathes the stranger. “Is that your demon, prisionero?”

“Don’t say his fucking name!” Red screams, and drives forward with the staff again, swinging it hard at his head. The stranger ducks and strikes at Red’s legs, earning a bloody slash across Red’s knee but also taking a solid kick to the side. He falls back, groaning and grabbing at the raven bracelet on his arm, which begins to glow a fervent snow white.

Red strikes at him again and again and the man falls back under the onslaught. He tries to summon ice again, but Red shatters it or leaps away. He swings with his blade, but it’s like a bee-sting to Red - he knows well the cut of a blade. It’s only when Red lands a solid blow to his head that the young man is able to leap away, clutching at his skull - and when Red turns around to face him, he has disappeared again.

Red pants, his eyes flickering in every direction.

“I know you’re still there,” he growls, and he sounds so much like Anti the voice almost seems to glitch.

cest-mellow asked: red, tell the man you aren’t anti. tell him who you are!

“I am Anti,” snarls Red. “I am Anti’s. I am an extension of him. I am a weapon of his. I am a limb of his, an instrument, a belonging. Red is just a nickname. Red is just a designation. All I am is Anti’s.”

The young man re-appears again, as if from nowhere.

The hat has fallen away and you can see his face clearly now. He is perhaps twenty-five, with a head of dark curls, and enormous, beautiful black eyes. Heavy eyebrows and a nose that looks like it’s had its fair share of shatterings accent his face. His fine mouth is parted; his expression filled with a great many things - pity. Sympathy. Pain. Warmth.

“It does not have to be this way,” he calls, soft but sure. “It does not have to be like this at all. Weren’t you someone before the darkness took you, amigo? Did you not once have a name?”

Red stands staring at him, panting like a bull in an arena.

“My name,” says the man, reaching out a hand. “Is Hermann. What was yours?”

Anonymous asked: "Woah.. Hey.. Red, buddy, take a breath. Even though Anti is hurt he looks like he doesn't want to hurt the others. At least let him explain." -PF!M

“No… no, no, no. He’s dangerous! I know he is! I won’t listen to this! Stop talking! You’re wrong - there was nothing before Anti! No name, no person, nothing! Nothing that mattered, anyway!”

Old images flicker before his eyes - his brothers smiling and dressed strangely, Blue braiding long hair, a warm house with flowers growing in through the porch, a faraway darkness and a nearby love.

But he can’t seem to hold on to a single one of them. They slip way from him like sand through the hourglass. He backs away, shaking his head, blinking.

“You’re - you’re trying to hypnotize me!” he shouts, holding up the staff again. “You’re trying to get inside my head!”

Hermann backs away, shaking his head.

“You do not want to do this, prisionero. I do not want to hurt you. But if you to attack me, then we must fighting.”

Red tightens his grip on his staff.

“Guess we must.”

Anonymous asked: Red get out of there. You don't know if he has friends. Go to Anti and the others while you still can.

“No, he’s going to pay for coming after my family!”

Red shatters ice with his staff and leaps the shards, swinging a fist at Hermann’s head. Hermann draws back and then aims a kick at Red’s side and a slash at his head, forcing him to block with both hands, the one holding the staff causing Hermann to cry out in pain and retreat. Red follows up with ferocity, swinging like a baseball player with nothing to lose. He strikes Hermann once, twice, and then places his foot too quickly and tumbles to the ground as he finds ice beneath his shoes. Hermann bears down on him a second later, tackling him to the earth and covering him halfway in ice again, pressing that blade back to his throat. But Red only smiles - he got out of this once, after all, and he’ll do it again, and then wipe that sick pity off this little insect’s fucking face.

Hatred burns in his chest so raw and hot it almost makes him gag, but he gets more used to the sensation with every chore, with every mission, with every sacrifice he makes to his master. What does it matter to him now? This hatred is a part of him. This hatred is what feeds and devours him.

He wills his knee to jerk up again, to shatter the ice -

But, ah, he ought to have heeded your warning.

The steel toe of a boot connects with the side of his head, making the whole world go white for a second as he screams, dazed as warmth fills up his hair. A second blade comes down to touch his throat, and then someone is sitting on his chest, pushing him down hard into the earth and shouting at him in rapid Spanish. Through eyes half-filled with sparks, he gazes up to see two new faces joining Hermann’s, a pair of women with fury in their eyes.

A second blow connects with his head and he gasps, spinning nearly into unconsciousness. A sudden fear wraps around his heart and his fingers scrabble for his phone, Anti’s name falling, mangled by concussion, from his bleeding mouth.

“Anti, Anti, master, help me!”

nikkilbook asked: Dust—Blue, remember your own words! You said Dap’s magic smells of dust and petrichor! He’s already turned back once already!

“Oh, shit,” whispers Blue, standing in the doorway of his house, staring down at the city. “What could have gone so wrong that Dapper turned back time without even Anti’s permission?”

Anonymous asked: "N-No- Please don't- Jackie! Please, don't! Your name is Jackie! Please, listen to him, he wants to help! Don't make the same mistake I did, I'm begging you!" -PF!H

“My name is Red,” he croaks, clinging woozily to consciousness. “My name is… Anti…”

He feels his body hauled out of the ice and thrown onto the hard gravel of the alley, scraping his face and rose-scarred calves. Hermann and his friends are babbling above him.

“Este hombre está demasiado loco para encarcelar.”

“Deberíamos sacarlo de su miseria. Mira lo miserable que es.“

“No puedo matar a un hombre inocente!”

“El no es inocente. El pertenece a la oscuridad!”

“Enough, enough!” calls the oldest of the three, a woman with shining black hair and enough make-up to make her aging face look entirely flawless. “Stop scaring him! Look how he shakes. He’s beat. We take him back. Genesis, bind up his hands. El no es un mago.”

Red gasps as ruthless hands bind his wrists tightly in thick twine and someone grabs him roughly by the back of his throat, dragging him to his feet. Tears prick in his eyes and he screams, trying to find the strength to struggle. Blood is dripping down the side of his face.

Anonymous asked: Red, they won't kill you. At least not yet. Sit tight, get your strength back. (Maybe something else, too, if you dig deep enough, who knows) Watch. Listen. Find out what you can. We can help you piece together some Spanish if need be. I'm running off of college-level Spanish that I failed twice and have been out of for two years; it's not much but I'm trying for you, okay?

Red bursts into frantic giggles, his eyes fixed wildly on you. He swallows hard, beginning to shake, grimacing at the sensation of rope and fear and flesh pressed to his own. Horrible, horrible, horrible.

“I’m not great at languages either,” he wheezes, trying to straighten up in Genesis’ grip. “Thank you.”

He closes his eyes as her grip only tightens. Horrible, horrible, horrible.

“Will you please - ” He stammers as back as Trick in his fear - “Will you please tell my twin and my brothers that I love - I love - I love them v-very much, and I want them to have a merry Christmas without me, and I’m so - I’m so sorry I didn’t bring everybody’s presents home. I failed them, I’m sorry, I love them, I love them. Blue, I love you.”

Anonymous asked: Hermann (and friends), I don’t know if you’re reading this but, you have to get out of there with Jackie/Red. Anti and the others will be looking for him soon and they aren’t going to be nice about it. Get him somewhere safe ASAP and lay low, the rest will be harder to free when they’re like this.

“Look, he has this little camera with the messages on it… see, someone speaks to him.”

“El demonio.”

“No, see, they warn us.”

“Don’t play with it, Hermann, it’s probably cursed or something. Vamonos. We will take him back for now. If he cannot be convinced or freed… well, we do what we have to do, yes?”

“They say someone will come looking for him.”

“No one is going to catch us right now. After all, the - what was that?”

A rock clatters off a garbage can and lands on the street beside them.

Hermann, Genesis, and the older woman exchange glances.

And then Anti’s little pet is upon them.

Carver has never worn his name better - not cutting up bodies to hide them for Anti, not tearing apart flesh to get answers to Anti’s questions out of prisoners, not flying into battle at his brother’s side. No, Carver has always had the greatest ferocity when set loose from his chain and given a body to protect.

Anti taught him to fight fucking dirty, unpredictable, and he lashes out wildly with his teeth bared. Red was the one who taught him speed and a deadly unconcern for pain - he needed it to combat his older brother’s strength. And his own power sits inside his hands, the most cutting weapon of them all, because no matter how strong or cruel or intelligent the enemy, Anti’s youngest puppet has one advantage no one else has ever beaten him at:

He’s already fought this fight once before.

He dodges a blow from Genesis before she’s even thrown it, grabs her by her short hair, and yanks her away from her allies, kicking her in a weak spot he discovered the first time around - the inside of her right knees. She crumples with a yell and he avenges the blows she gave to his brother’s head by driving his foot into her face, shattering the nose in a spray of blood. The older woman gives a cry and pushes a hand out towards him, casting him in an impossibly bright light, but, with his eyes closed, he still remembers where she was the first time they fought, and he throws a knife blind. She screams as it tears through her arm badly, forcing her to stagger back and clutch at the swiftly-bleeding wound. And the tricky invisible boy - you could tell Carver his name is Hermann, but he would not care even if he listened - oh, yes, Carver remembers where he stands.

For a moment, Dapper is still, letting him think he’s escaped him, letting him think he cannot be seen. His eyes glow a fervent silver. Looking at them is like looking at an over-full moon.

He whirls around and slams a knife into the air.

Hermann re-appears with a scream, grabbing at the dagger buried in his stomach. Genesis cries his name, hauling herself to her feet, but Carver ignores her, savoring, for a moment, his victory. Hermann stares up at his silver eyes with the infinite black of his own, something hateful and angry and cold building in the gaze between them.

“You, then,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as blood wells up on his tongue. “You, then, are the demon.”

Carver does not smile or frown. His eyes are cool. His pockets are full of finger puppets.

Genesis grabs Hermann’s arm and then the two are gone with a sudden gust of wind, not invisible now, but transported. Carver does not care,so long as they do not get away with Red this time. He steps over his brother’s body, curled in on itself on the ground, and stalks towards the older woman, his mouth curving up in a snarl.

“You back off,” she shouts, pulling what looks like a hatchet out of her backpack and hefting it in her good arm. Ah, damn. Carver should have remembered to cut the left arm instead of the right. But he will still beat her.

She swings in a one-two-three pattern and he dodges almost without looking, slipping behind her to grab her by that long, beautiful hair and yank her back painfully hard. She cries out in fury and drives the hatchet back at him - tricky, that one almost caught him! He giggles and backs away, his face twitching.

Genesis re-appears and grabs her friend. Carver does not move to stop them when they disappear. As long as they are gone, and Red remains.

He can always finish them off when his master commands him.

For a long time, Carver only stands there, staring at the spot where the women had been. Eventually, you watch his shoulders sink, and his gaze slacken, and a sort of confusion, a sort of numbness, return to his blood-freckled face.

“Red?” ask his hands. He frowns down at his brother. “Why are you crying?”

Red hides his face in his bound hands, trying to stop the tears from coursing down his cheeks.

Dapper kneels down beside him and puts a careful hand on the fabric of his hoodie, his face falling with sympathy.

“You were scared?”

He cuts Red’s hands free.

“Didn’t you know I’d come save you like I always do?”

Sobbing, Red reaches up to clutch at his little brother’s sleeves, drawing Dapper down to his chest, and Dapper goes obediently, lying his head down like a tired little kid resting on his brother’s body.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Red cries, rubbing his back. “I’m sorry you had to come save me, I’m sorry I was stupid, I’m sorry I made you fight when you’re hurting, I’m sorry I haven’t been a better brother to you, I’m sorry…”

Dapper doesn’t bother trying to quiet him. He lays there with his head on Red’s chest, and he lets his brother cry.

“Everything’s okay now, Red. Everything’s okay.”

bupine asked: RED HOLY SHIT KICK HIS ASS GET OUT OF THERE GOOO

Dapper giggles a little, pressing his forehead against Red’s chest. “Is that what you tried to do?”

“Y-yes, I should have been able to take him…”

“He surprised you. He was full of magic. It doesn’t matter now. We know about them, don’t we? So that’s helpful. Not a complete loss.”

He gets up and reaches down to help Red, who grimaces as he is drawn to his feet. His stomach is bleeding frighteningly heavy now, and he can’t seem to see straight no matter how hard he focuses. He thinks he might vomit.

Dapper uses the crisp white sleeve of his dress shirt to wipe blood from Red’s face. Teary-eyed, Red bows his head and allows it.

“There we go,” murmurs Dapper. His right cheek tightens and un-tightens, tightens and un-tightens.

“Dap? Why are you twitching like that?”

Dapper gives a little irritated whimper and rubs at his face. “Can’t make it stop.”

“Took your medicine this morning?”

“Took what Anti gave me.”

“Are you okay?”

“… Don’t know. Never happened before.”

Red sighs and tries to stand steady, brushing Dapper away when he reaches out to help. “We better get you home.”

Dapper gives a small, chirruping whistle.

Anonymous asked: Blue and Trick: Dapper is with Red! They're both a little shaken; Red is bloody but he'll be okay once he's bandaged up, I think. Dapper seems to be experiencing side effects. I'm not sure if you want to meet up with them or trust that they'll make it back in their own, but either way, the danger seems to be past for now.

“Oh,” breathes Blue, sinking to his knees right there on the mountainside, grabbing at his heart. “Ohhhhh.”

Trick whoops and claps his hands together, his face brighter than you’ve seen it in days and soaking in the sun. “Let’s go meet them! I could use some time out of that little room! It’s gorgeous out here, wow! Look at that view!”

He leaps up on a big rock and stares out at the ocean, a big smile on his face. “I bet Dapper and Red kicked ass today! And now they’re coming home, and tomorrow we get Christmas all together, and Doktor’s going to patch up Anti and Red, and everything’s going to be okay!”

Blue is still there on his knees behind him, staring up at him. There is something in his eyes - love, joy, warmth, gratitude.

It’s nice to see him happy again, even if he knows it can’t last forever. It’s good to see his spirits rising.

“Come on,” says Blue fondly, reaching out to take Trick’s hand. Trick, oscillating between desperately touch-starved and completely invaded for far too long, jerks back in surprise for only a moment before wrapping his fingers around Blue’s and turning to smile at him. “Let’s go get our brothers.”

cest-mellow asked: dapper? jameson? where’d you go?

“Oh, it was easy,” explains Dapper as they walk, going slow for Red’s sake. “I got the call from Red’s phone because Anti was sleeping and I thought he seemed like he was in trouble, so I decided to go to him. I knew Anti would give me permission to save him if it was a real emergency. Especially as I have been a very good boy for the last three days.”

He straightens up proudly, clutching at the back of Red’s hoodie as he walks.

“I felt well enough to make it down the mountainside and I followed the GPS on Anti’s phone.” Dapper pulls it out of his pocket, a sleek little black phone with a lot of weird apps downloaded and no screensaver or background. “Found Red a little too late, though. He was already bound up and stuff, so I didn’t have his help. I lost the first time I fought - or I killed the old lady, anyway, but the girl took Red away. And I knew Anti wouldn’t like that. So, snap!”

Dapper snaps his fingers and makes Red jump, his face a little haggard and quite white.

“I turned back and tried again knowing how they would fight. Or something within me knew how they would fight. Blood is just blood, you know? And it’s always flowing and flowing.”

He begins whistling a little, his twitching face interrupting his song, and Red looks back at him with concern in his eyes.

“Little man, are you sure you took your medicine?”

“Took what Anti gave me, sir.”

Red sighs and reaches back to pull him under his arm. Dapper simpers pettishly and lies his head against his chest, beaming up at him.

They make their way back to the mountain, slow, slow, and it would just about kill Red to have to walk the whole way up, but luckily Blue and Trick spot them from the top and race down to meet them and help Red.

If Blue is a little disconcerted by the change in Dapper’s behavior that has taken place over the last three days, he chooses to make no comment, only scoops his little brother into a hug and praises him for saving Red the whole way up the mountain.

Anonymous asked: Doktor this is not your fault. You are not a failure. You can save Anti, just like you’ve saved everyone else. You’ve protected Dapper, directed both Blue and Trick onto the right path. Mistakes come and go and you should not be ashamed of them. They help us grow. Sadly, you cannot save everyone but if you focus on that then you will never save anyone. Trust in your abilities and judgment, Dok, because we do. You’ve got this.

You find Dok sitting beside Anti’s bed, his face blank.

Beneath the covers, Anti is very still. He breathes steady, pale but alive, wrapped up in bandages. Dok’s even managed to get him shirtless. He hopes it helps, but, with Anti, it’s difficult to say.

“I think he’ll be okay,” he whispers.

He’s staring down at his hands.

Curling and uncurling.

“I can save Anti,” he whispers to himself, trying, deliberately, to internalize your message. “I’m not a failure.”

He sits alone for a long time, holding his knees to his chest, looking tired.

But then the door opens, and chattering comes with it, and the stomping of feet, and a smile lights up slowly on his face again.

His family. His friends. His brothers. His twin.

Returned.

Beaming, Doktor gets to his feet, and goes to help his family.

badlypostedmusicals asked: Boys who are still functional, why don't you try and make the house a little more secure and bring all of your blankets to anti's room so you can be together

“To Anti’s room?” whispers Blue, eyes wide. “I’m not so sure he’d like that… Better to let sleeping dogs lie, you know. But I am going to grab those blankets!”

Anonymous asked: Yeah, I’m crying, oh lord.

It was, after all, quite a day.

Red cries for how gently Doktor patches him up and how warmly Blue holds his hand through it.  It’s late afternoon, but Doktor prescribes a good long sleep before they try any processing, and Red, exhausted, agrees. He and Blue lie down under a big, fuzzy, purple blanket, their limbs tangled up and their heads close together, and they wish each other a merry Christmas eve in grateful whispers before going to bed at four in the morning.

Trick and Doktor are drawn back to each other like magnets, and they hug for so long Trick nearly drifts off against his shoulder, which makes them both laugh and dissolve into enthusiastic teasing. You watch Doktor’s energy spike higher than you’ve seen it in days, and soon the two of them have borrowed Blue’s new cards to play a passionate game of whispered BS with Dapper in their room, giggling the whole time and calling each other for every bluff. That night, Dapper retreats back to Anti’s room, but Trick elects to stay with Dok, not caring, for once, what Anti would say. They light his candles together. Doktor whispers his blessings with tears running down his face and Trick buried against his chest, and then they curl up beneath their window, and, like they always used to, they watch until the sun goes down.

And if Dapper cries a little too, as the adrenaline of the fight leaves him, replaced by a cold and growing horror as he remembers blood beneath Carver’s hands and the weight of the knife clutched between his fingers, well… he has Anti to snuggle up with, doesn’t he? There’s nothing else he needs. Everyone else has a twin, and him? He has Anti.

He stares around the room and realizes that soon, he will once again be trapped.

His face twitches.

Anonymous asked: It's a Christmas miracle! You're all together again and that's what matters! Fix each other up and get some sleep before tomorrow comes, okay? Merry Christmas, boys!! And a happy Hanukkah to you, Dok!

“It is kind of a miracle, huh?” murmurs Dok, staring up at the ceiling.

Trick is fast asleep beside him. He looks well. His body’s warm.

“I think we always feel like the oil’s going to run out,” Doktor continues softly, holding him. “Like that’s it, that’s all. This is the last of it. And once it’s gone, we’re done for.

But then… you have miracles.”

He pulls Trick closer to his chest, sighing warmly.

Content on Christmas Eve, on the third day of Hanukkah.

“And the oil does not run out. The enemy does not win like you thought he would. You keep fighting and you light your candles and you hold your head up and trust in things greater than yourself, and they sustain you when you thought you couldn’t keep going, not for another day, not for another moment.”

Doktor closes his eyes. The smile on his mouth is warm as the flame of his candles.

“You have your lights in the darkness,” he whispers, dozing off. “You have enough oil after all.”

End Section Four of Chapter Two.

Find the next section here.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

Double Stops

Summary: Sometimes there's a happy ending. Sometimes there's not. Sequel to Artificial Harmonics.

In another life, it takes six months for Vanya to wake up. In the end it’s as understated as most things are with her. She just blinks those big brown eyes open, stares at the white ceiling above her, and thinks for a minute. She goes back to sleep before anyone even notices.

The second time she wakes up, Vanya can feel a heavy weight on her left thigh, and one on the opposite shoulder. Tilting her head to the side, she receives a face full of curls and a nose full of perfume. Allison is curled gently around her, hand clutching the blankets at chest level and head on Vanya’s shoulder. Turning the other way reveals the weight on her thigh is actually Klaus’s head. He’s drooling on her sheets.

The world outside the window which Vanya can just barely catch over her sister’s shoulder is dark. There’s a figure slumped in a chair a few feet from the foot of her bed, blocking the doorway. She’d recognize the determined set of Diego’s shoulders anywhere. His head is down but she can’t see too clearly in the pre-dawn gloom- he my be sleeping.

Vanya shrugs her free shoulder, and goes back to sleep.

The shock wears off the third time she wakes. Sunlight is streaming through the blinds, turning her room golden yellow. She admires the reflections from Allison’s compact mirror dancing on the ceiling until her sister snaps it shut.

Then, hearing someone shuffle to her left, Vanya turns and locks eyes with her oldest, smallest brother.

Five doesn’t even react for a split second; they simply stare at each other. She can see his fists clenching on the upholstery of the cheap hospital furniture he’s perched on. He looks like hell, all dark bruises under his eyes and pallid skin stretched taut over fragile bone. Vanya knows she can’t look much better.

Then Five’s eyes pop wide open and he’s throwing himself to her bedside. Vanya can hear Allison’s exclamation in the background, but Five is already swearing loud enough to burst her eardrums and he’s shaking her shoulder too roughly and Vanya realizes with a jolt that- she is awake.

She’s awake.

She’s not, for all her efforts, dead.

“Holy shit,” Five is babbling. And then, when she flinches, “Vanya. Vanya.”

“Oh my God,” Allison echoes, catching on. Her hand is squeezing Vanya’s fingers too tightly. Vanya wiggles hers in response and she hears Allison let out something suspiciously close to a sob. “Oh, thank God.”

“You’re awake,” Five tells her like Vanya hasn’t figured that out yet.

“The others,” Allison jerks to her feet. “I have to get the others. Luther’s getting breakfast-”

“Go,” Five says. He hasn’t looked away from Vanya’s face and his fingers haven’t relaxed from where they are clawing into her skin. It’s strangely comforting; this place seems floaty and dreamy and too surreal for her to get a grip on. His bruising grip is grounding in contrast.

Allison has a bit of trouble releasing her grip on Vanya’s hand, but at last she turns and whirls out into the hall, almost colliding with the door jamb on her way out.

The quiet sets in again and it’s so comforting after the concert; for months Vanya has been dreaming of little else. Silence is a welcome reprieve from the haunting melody that has played on repeat in her brain all this time. She’s been slowly drowning and oh, how she wants to rest.

But she can’t yet- there’s something she needs to know first.

When Vanya speaks her mouth feels cottony and strange, as if it is not her own. Her throat tastes vile and wrong and she can feel a scar where stitches used to be three months ago stretch across her tendons. The skin there is thick and ropy, she can feel that. But she has to speak. She has to know.

“Did..it...work?” Vanya rasps, almost choking on the words. Five’s face does something complicated, landing somewhere between a horrified snarl and blanching. He scrambles for a moment and then an ice chip is pressing insistently at her lips. But Vanya pushes him away weakly, more pawing at his wrist than anything else. He backs off, hovering close by and wielding the ice cup like a weapon to be used with deadly accuracy.

“Did...it..work...Five?” She doesn’t blink, her eyes boring into his. Five does her the courtesy of not looking away. “Is..world..safe?”

“Yes,” Five breathes. Vanya can feel a knot that had sat at the pit of her stomach for six months unravel. “Yes, the world is safe. You saved us.”

Vanya sighs in relief and sags back against her pillows. Before she succumbs to unconsciousness once more, she squeezes her brother’s fingers. He squeezes back. This time when Vanya closes her eyes she knows she’s going to wake up again.

She sleeps with a smile on her face.

~

In another life, Vanya’s ghost takes two days to find Klaus. It’s easier than it can be for most spirits, what with her brother screaming her name into the void. She follows the sound of his grief stricken voice and simply pops into existence at the foot of his bed one evening. She doesn’t even really mean to do it, it’s just that- well. He sounded so sad.

“Oh,” Vanya says into the dead silence. She suddenly feels very self-conscious of the bloodstains on her perfectly white suit. “Uh. Hello.”

“ Vanya. ”

Klaus is gaping at her in the dark of his old bedroom. A few candles flicker around the room and she wonders if he was trying to create an actual, authentic seance, just for her. It’s oddly touching.

“Klaus,” Vanya starts but then she stops. She doesn’t rightly know what she wants to say to him. What does one say to the brother who held your hand as you died from self-inflicted wounds in an attempt to save both him and the world? “So...The world is saved?”

He flinches and she winces too. That was not the right conversation starter.

“Why did you do this, Vanya?” Klaus sounds wreaked, voice cracking. His eyes are wide and leaking. He looks fairly unhinged, hair wild from his hands running through it and nails bitten down to nubs. His clothes are disheveled and it looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“I had to,” Vanya answers. She doesn’t expect his sob. She throws up her palms, motioning as if to hold his hands in hers but only succeeds in passing their fingers through each other.  “I’m so sorry, Klaus, but I had to.”

“No, no, no you didn’t.” He’s getting louder and Vanya draws back. But her brother darts forward, his hands glowing an unearthly blue, and suddenly he’s clasping her by the upper arms. He doesn’t even blink at her surprised squeak. “Oh Vanya, no. No .”

Vanya sighs and carefully extracts herself from her brother’s arms. She reaches out and cups his cheek. Tries to give him a smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yes, I did, Klaus. I was too dangerous; I was going to end the world. You know that.”

“No,” he denies again but it’s weaker now. “No, there had to be another way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Vanya shrugs. “But this was the one we got. I’m sorry, Klaus. It was for the greater good.”

Her brother looks so grieved, so hurt and beaten down and despairing that for a moment Vanya wishes she could take it all back. She’d go back to the start, endure all of the ridicule and drugs that Sir Reginald could throw at her, if only to wipe that look off Klaus’s face. But then she pulls herself together because the only one who can rewind time is Five and the rest of them are damned to the consequences.

“It’s alright now Klaus.”

“No, it’s not.” He sniffles, wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and meets her gaze with his own red one. She wonders if he’s slept at all. “It’s really, really not.”

“No, I guess not. But it will be.”

She stays until he cries himself to sleep and then disappears with naught more than a whisper of the wind.

~

In another life, Vanya gasps awake in her old childhood bedroom mere seconds after her body cooled in her siblings’ arms. The feeling of her heart thumping against her ribs is disorienting. She has to take a second to get used to her lungs filling and emptying themselves again.

She’s also approximately thirteen years old. Her bangs brush at her lashes; it’s time for Mom to trim them again.

Just as Vanya puts one foot out of bed (the floor is cold and shocking to her bare skin) the door to her bedroom slams open. Diego’s young, round face stares wildly at her.

“What the absolute fuck were you thinking?” He cries, not bothering to be mindful of the fact that it is definitely the dead of the night outside her window. She can see the lights from her brothers’ and sister’s rooms flickering on in the hall.

Before she can even open her mouth Diego bounds across the space separating them and flings his arms around her shoulders. She doesn’t ever remember hugging her brother and the physical contact is jarring, especially after dying under his shaking hands only minutes ago. Vanya gasps, clings to the back of his striped pajamas, and starts shaking. She can’t seem to stop.

“Th-the world,” she finally gets out, teeth chattering. Out in the hallway there’s a commotion; running feet coming towards her room and Mom’s curious voice asking what’s going on, the familiar thunk of Pogo’s cane (oh, God, she’d killed Pogo) and somewhere beneath it all the start of an irritated, reedy complaint courtesy of her roused father. “I-I had to save the w-world.”

“You idiot,” he’s saying too loudly into her ear. But for the life of her Vanya cannot let him go and the way his hands tighten when she shifts as if to pull away assures her he feels the same. “You goddamn idiot.”

“What happened?” She muffles out against his shoulder. Diego huffs and his warm breath stirs her hair. It tickles. Vanya hadn’t thought anything would tickle ever again.

“Five took us back- saved your ass. You’re alive now and we’re gonna make sure it stays that way,” he explains shortly and after that Vanya is content to settle in his arms and let the storm rage outside.

~

In another life, Vanya raises the bow to her throat and smiles at her sister one last time. Her power is receding already, letting her brothers fall from their place hanging in the air, but Vanya cannot take any chances with the atomic bomb she’s made herself into. She has to end this.

Luther tackles her to the floor and her violin and bow go flying off into the darkness backstage. She lets out something of a cross between a sob and a screech and claws at his back as his arms close around her. She has not forgotten the cage.

“Vanya, Vanya wake up,” Luther is repeating over and over again. He keeps her pinned against him and her power flickers hot and angry, licking at her insides. Vanya wants to throw him off, tell him to get out, get their family out, before she destroys them. But her brother hugs her to him, more gently than he ever has, and chants her name.

“Vanya,” Luther’s voice sounds so far away, as if she is hearing him from underwater. “Vanya, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The fire inside winks out in a second flat. The next moment the white covering her eyesight clears and-

Vanya very calmly proceeds to bawl her eyes out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She wants to tell him to shut up, to leave her alone, to let her go. She wants to tell him he has to kill her before she kills the world.

But Luther just presses one big hand to the back of her head and rocks her like a child. Vanya can feel the others gathering. There’s a hand holding hers, fingers long and smooth just like Allison’s always were. Someone lays their head on her shoulder- Diego, maybe, she thinks she  remembers the smell of his deodorant- and another arm wraps around her back. Someone else is holding onto her feet, for some reason.

There are words murmured into her ears, reassurances Vanya doesn’t deserve. There are hands holding her up, patting her down, making sure she’s uninjured. There are tears in her hair and on her cheeks.

The world keeps turning and Vanya huddles in her family’s embrace and turns with it.

~

But in this life, there is no happy ending.

Klaus and Allison do, in the end, come to the concert hall. Klaus screams and cries and begs for his sister to appear. Allison shouts her name loud enough to shake the glass ceiling, spins rumor after rumor to coerce the dead back into being.

It takes them days to give up and sit in silent vigil, as if waiting would work where pleas and demands for her return wouldn’t.

And Ben watches, quiet and steady, as their heartbreak does not mend but merely deepens. He wonders if the cracks in their foundation are too deep to fix. Not a one of them would have thought their seventh pillar would be the one to cause a collapse. But here they are, imploding.

This has been a long time in coming, he reflects. It makes the Horror writhe in his chest.

They leave. They go back home, pick up the pieces, try again in another day, another week, then a month, then three months. No one ever comes back to them. It’s not the same, it’s not better. But they do live. The world lives. Life goes on, at least for most.

And their sister keeps smiling, smiling, smiling from beyond the grave.

[ask-beacons-finest]

Whispering: hey Yang, you and Blake need to find a new spot when you “Go to the restroom”... or don’t. Y’alls choice. (Sent by anon) (Not entirely sure what this post is getting at so I’m gonna use this as an excuse to get back to AFD!Bees, also holy hell this is LONG)

AFD!Yang, having stepped out the back exit to their apartment, goes and leans uncaringly on a metal railing: So. 

AFD!Blake, joining her, an irritated but amazed look on her face: So? So? That’s all you have to say?

AFD!Yang, scoffing: Well what else do you want me to say?

AFD!Blake: I want you to tell me what your fucking problem is, Yang. That’s what I want you to say.

AFD!Yang, shrugs, looking away: Don’t have one.

AFD!Blake, stepping towards Yang, dumbfounded: Oh bull fricken shit you don’t have a problem. Everything was fine and dandy until I got a call from Ilia and said she and her girlfriend could come over and then you started acting like a child.

AFD!Yang, snapping: A child? Really? That’s what you’re gonna call me?

AFD!Blake, snarling: Yes. A child, and I know because I work with children all day long. Or have you forgotten that about me too?

AFD!Yang, turning towards Blake: Oh don’t even fucking-...Look, all I’m saying is that we already had a bunch of our friends-

AFD!Blake: No. We had a bunch of your friends. I like them and all, but I’m not as good friends with them like you guys. 

AFD!Yang, rolling her eyes: Well maybe if you interacted with them more.

AFD!Blake, letting out a bit of a laugh, her face in absolute awe at Yang’s attitude: Do you?? Do you ever even consider what I think? Maybe I don’t want to hang out with them. And I pay my fair share of the rent here so I should be allowed to invite my fair share of friends whenever I want just like you all can. 

AFD!Yang, frustrated: Yeah I get that but-

AFD!Blake, cutting her off: Do you? Do you really? Because when Weiss and Ruby invite their little third wheel you don’t seem to give a damn. When Ruby invites her grimy musical friends you don’t care. When Weiss had those snobby bastards over you literally made an effort to help her clean up! But when I want to invite just two of my friends over you act like it’s the end of the world?

AFD!Yang, pausing for a moment, scanning Blake’s face with her eyes, then turns back away to lean on the railing again: Yeah...

AFD!Blake, angrily, grabbing hold of Yang’s shoulder: Don’t turn away, look at me. 

AFD!Yang, jerking her shoulder away from Blake, pointing at her: Do not. Grab me like that. 

AFD!Blake, recoiling back instinctively, a wince on her face: Yang-

AFD!Yang, realizing what she’s done, quickly softens her face and stance: Blake, Blake no, no honey I’m-I didn’t mean it like that. You know I would never-

AFD!Blake, taking a deep breath, speaking out with closed eyes: Hit me? Like him? 

AFD!Blake, opening her eyes, tears welling up in them: But what will you do? Yell at me? Argue with me? Control what I do and who I get to see? Cheat on me?

AFD!Yang, sadly: Blake I-

AFD!Blake, shaking her head: Do you know what my mom said to me? Before I got on an airship to travel from the only home I’ve ever known, like a thousand miles to go live with some blonde I’ve known only for a few family vacations and a couple years of messages and video calls? Do you know what my mom said to me when she gave me a hug before I got on that ship?

AFD!Yang, silently lowering her head to the ground: ...

AFD!Blake, biting back her sobs: My own mom, hugged me and then looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you, but I’m disappointed.” She didn’t support what I was doing, and neither did my dad but he would never say it out loud to his little girl. But I could see it, Yang, I could see it in his eyes. And do you know what I said back? To my fucking mom Yang?

AFD!Yang, fighting back her own tears, refusing to look Blake in the face: ...what?

AFD!Blake, stomping her foot down, demanding Yang’s eyes to lock with hers, tears streaming down her cheeks: I told my mom that I don’t care what she thinks and then walked away. Because I loved you that much. I got on that airship and got here and I didn’t even talk to either of my parents for four goddamn months. Do you know how heartbroken that made them, how heartbroken it made me? Do you know that my mother kept herself awake at night blaming herself for me not talking to them? All because she felt so stupid for opening her mouth to say her concerns for her own daughter??? 

AFD!Yang, her own cheeks trickling with tears, her voice hardly a pained whisper: I’m sorry...I didn’t know.

AFD!Blake, shaking her head, stepping back: I know. Because I didn’t tell you. Because we were so full of love and we were having so much fun at that time that I didn’t want it to end, that I didn’t want to concern you, I didn’t want to be a bother. But look at us now, we can’t go a week without having an argument like this, the only time we seem to really get along is when we have sex, we hardly do anything together anymore and...

AFD!Blake, struggling to hold back sobs, her hands holding the sides of her head: I can’t...live like this, Yang.

AFD!Yang, bursting out, her voice shaking with worry: What are you saying? 

AFD!Blake, wiping her eyes, finally breaking out into sharp sobs, gasping for breath between them: I...I don’t know...I just want it to go back to what it used to be. That’s all I want. That’s all I ever wanted, Yang. 

AFD!Yang, slowly stepping forward, pausing when Blake winces again as she gently reaches out with her arm, after a moment she continues, wrapping Blake in her arms, causing her to sob even harder, speaking shakily through her own tears: I want that too, I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Blake. I can’t lose you. I’m gonna do everything I can to get us back to what we were before. Every single thing in my power, I’ll do.

AFD!Blake, burying her face into Yang’s shoulder, her body trembling as she sobs: Please Yang, just...please.

AFD!Yang, gently holding Blake back a little, reaching a trembling hand into her own pocket to pull out her scroll, opening up her messages to an Ice cream cone, one with twenty-seven unread messages: Here...here. << Don’t ever contact me again. This is done. Permanently. >>

AFD!Blake, watches through red and puffy eyes as Yang taps through the options to delete and block the number, growing worried as in the short amount of time it took to do so she received a total of eight new messages all frantically screaming profanities: ...is...is that what you had to deal with?

AFD!Yang, shamefully putting the scroll away, nodding: Yeah...I should have never allowed it to happen. That’s a mistake I made, and one I have to suffer the consequences for...whatever they may be.

AFD!Blake, shaking her head, her tears coming back in droves as she hides herself back into Yang’s shoulder, beginning to sob again: I don’t know, I just don’t know. I can’t even be angry at you. I don’t know what to feel.

AFD!Yang, shaking her head, biting her lip for a moment before painfully speaking: No. You deserve it. You deserve to feel mad, furious. I did something that can’t ever be forgiven. And if that’s the breaking point then...I’ll pay for your ticket to go back home myself. 

AFD!Blake, silently crying for a long while as Yang holds her, slowly coming to a close, wiping her eyes and speaks between sniffling: I don’t...I don’t want to leave...

AFD!Yang, softly gripping hold of Blake’s arms, looking her right in the eyes, her own full of tears, her voice determined: Then...Let’s go on that vacation. I’ll treat you to everything you want. Anything. I don’t care what it is or how much it costs or even if it’s legal.

AFD!Blake, trying to hold back a laugh, quietly: Yang...

AFD!Yang, a hopeful smile spreading on her face: No. Genuinely, I will do anything on Remnant for you. Anything. If I have to lose an arm if it means you’ll stay then I’ll offer both and let fate decide which one is gone. 

AFD!Yang, losing the smile as Blake sadly looks up to her, pressing her forehead against Blake’s and allows her tears to flow yet again: I love you Blake Belladonna. I love you from the bottom of my very heart. I fucked up. I know. But at the end of the day there’s no one, no one, I would rather fix my fuck ups with than you.

AFD!Blake, slowly closing her eyes, staying silent for a while: ...okay.

AFD!Yang, a tinge of pain through her heart, wincing: Just...okay?

AFD!Blake, nodding, sadly: I’m sorry but...just okay is all I can do right now.

AFD!Yang, nodding, taking a deep breath to calm down the pain in her heart, gently pressing her lips to Blake’s forehead, her voice a whisper: Okay.

AFD!Blake: Should...we go back inside?

AFD!Yang, sadly looking out towards the night sky: I...I don’t know...it’s a little cold, and you’re still shaking.

AFD!Blake, following Yang’s eyes out to the sky: Yeah...it is.

AFD!Yang, unzipping her hoodie, removing it from her arms and swings it around Blake, gently pulling it around her shoulders, struggling to put a small smile on her own face: There...that should hold off the cold for a bit.

AFD!Blake, putting on the same struggling smile, speaking in a whisper: Thank you...but...I think we should go back inside. Everyone is probably worried.

AFD!Yang, nods: Yeah...yeah I think you’re right.

[alemeino-blog]

You're More Than Enough

Pairing: Kustard(like what other ship ya gonna write Ale?)

Tags:(haha pain) Implied suicide attempt, mentioned depression, hurt/comfort, angst, light smut if ya wince,

************

Sleep usually was their time of relaxation. Especially for Sans, loving the feeling of Red's arms pulling him close and securely, protecting him from any of the outside forces. His smile would be genuine as he managed fall asleep peacefully, knowing the other would be there in the morning, hearing the pulse of magic from the monster next to him. He loved that feeling more than the stars he would see in his dreams. 'heh, only Red is my star,' Sans would often think.

But today wasn't one of those days.

Sans couldn't sleep. Couldn't even close his eyes without fearing the other would be gone when they opened again. Red may have his eyes closed, may have shown no signs of distress, but Sans knew better. He felt how his breaths were short and choppy. Saw the trails of red translucent magic going down his face. And Sans also saw way Red's eyes were scrunched close.

He was faking it.

But Sans rather have the other pretending then off trying to-

The quiet barely did anything to hide the hiccups he gave, trying to hold it down fearing Red might hear him. Last thing he needed was making Red feel worse than the state he found him in.

Lacking the sight of the skeleton in the house, was enough to make Sans' soul pound with fear. Wasting no time he ran to where it would lead to. The place of which brought so many, and Sans didn't dare think of those who wouldn't come back. Frantically, he pushed past any monsters that just were to be in his way. Luckily, Waterfall was a mostly isolated place, the silence accompanying. Slipper against rock echoed through the caverns, Sans reaching speeds that would surprise the heck outta Papyrus. He would never be bothered to run his fast, run at all.

But for Red?

He would drink all the mustard in the goddamn world.

His steps felt squishier, as water splashed onto his tibia and fibula. He didn't look up, worrying that that extra seond would he just a second late before Red-

"S-,s-,sweetheart?"

His voice. Just that was enough for the skeleton to open his eye, to stop abruptly, causing the water to hurt in front of him. Almost as if they were hands, trying to pull Red to him but disappearing after getting there too late.

But it wasn't that they were late.

Just that they couldn't reach.

Red looked back at him, the red trails a telltale sign. His body shook, predicting the emotional collapse as it begged for the gates to open already. He was just a few inches from the edge, a few inches from the dark pit that raised so many questions.

A few inches, from death.

Sans wanted to slap him across the face, but his hands gently went to the others scarred ones. He wanted to push him off, to yell at him for being such a fucking idiot. Yet his arms moved to embrace him, his head burrying in that turtleneck as he felt Red's soul pulse.

He wanted to scold him for making him run at this time of night, but he found himself whimpering, tears forming in his sockets. Before the other could react he pushed himself off, holding back the beads of magic that wanted the skeleton to pull him close, to stroke his shaking form and tell him everything would be alright.

But he wasn't the one in need.

"Red," Sans said, using all his strengths to keep his voice from quivering. "What are you doing out here? Especially at this late at night?" It was a rhetorical question really. But it could be the only way to get Red to open up, to let all those emotions out.

"N-,n-,nothing heh," Red said, plastering on a smile. But he knew Sans wasn't falling for it. "Jus' takin' a l-,l-,late stroll."

"Out here?," Sans said, returning a grin. "Look if you're feeling down in the dumps you can tell me." Red chuckled, before they turned to hiccups as red magic trailed down his face. Sans walked towards the skeleton, grateful he wasn't lying like he usually did.

"It's alright," he cooed, gently tracing his hand across the other's face. The response was Red's eyelights locked on him, yet they were shaking with fear and forlorn. "I'm here." He tried, making his words as gentle as possible while hiding his own anxiety. Without a thought he wrapped his arms around Red, and teleported them home.

When they got home Red didn't even talk things out, just called it a night and walked upstairs to their shared room. Sans wanted to pressure on, but feared making things worse. So he could only follow, Red not bothering to take his jacket off as he laid on the bed. As soon as he did, Sans sat on the bed, arranging Red's head to rest in his laps as he stroke it gently.

He still was, only his methaphorical throat was choking with sobs. He couldn't, not with Red's state. He knew that bastard would set his own feelings to the side and comfort him, push away all his pain just to wipe away his tears and tell him it was fine. That he was okay as long as he was smiling.

Lies.

Why couldn't Red tell him? Why couldn't Red let Sans be that shoulder the other was for him every time he needed? Why did he have to be so fucking stubborn and hide his pain from him? Why couldn't Red just let him help?

Sans sighed frustrated, but it came out shaking, a tear finding its way down and dripping onto Red's skull. Looking down, ready to wipe it away quickly, he was met with red eyelights. He stood frozen, as if in trance with those crimsom lights and like a revealing spell, more tears trailed down the skeleton's face. Before the other could wipe away his tears and once more, force his feelings down, Sans pushed it away.

"N-,no Red," he said. "You're not pushing your feelings aside again. You're not dealing with this by yourself again. Goddamn it Red just fucking talk to me. I'm here for you, you can trust me I promise I can help you just please..." God he was begging for that hand again so he could lay his head against it, letting it hold all his thoughts that weighed down his mind. "Don't forget that you're important, just b-,because of m-,me." God he hated when his voice cracked, but he wouldn't let himself cry. Red needed him more, needed to talk needed that shoulder to cry on.

Red looked at Sans, tears still in his eyes as he reached up to trace his fingers across Sans' cheekbones. Sans didn't resist, if this is what it got for Red to talk, hopefully, then he would go along.

"Will it g-,get ya to q-,quit woryin' over sh-,shity ol' me?," Red asked, looking up at Sans with both concernity and need. Sans sighed, this wasn't what he wanted. 'Damn you Red for being so fucking caring,' Sans thought, but nodded anyways. They could talk about this later anyways.

"Heh, Ah'm jus' tired ya know," he chuckles. "Tired of havin' tah make ya deal with mah shit, tired of endin' up hurtin' ya cuz Ah can't fuckin' control it." Tears began trailing down as Red continued. "Now look at me, cryin' like a fucking pathetic idiot. H-,hurtin' ya more than Ah already did... M-,makin' ya run out in the middle of the goddamn n-,night..." Red looked as if he wanted to continue, but Sans couldn't take Red beating himself up anymore.

"Stop it," Sans said firmly, holding back a sob at the sight of seeing the person he loved so dearly hating himself so much. "Stop blaming yourself for all these little things! We all make mistakes and sometimes emotions get the best of us but that's no exuse to kill yourself! Red I don't care if I have to run across the whole damn underground for a whole day just to remind you how much you're worth, just to remind you to not give up because there will always be people who care. Because I will always be waiting here with my arms open, ready for you to cry your problems and I won't judge. Instead I'll keep telling you the same thing over and over again and I'll show you just how much you mean to me, and how much value you have."

Sans never noticed when Red had gotten up so when Red grabbed his chin and leaned in for a kiss he nearly jumped, but then melted into the kiss as Red's tongue danced with his. Sans grabbed the other's jacket, pulling him deeper into the heated kiss. He felt Red's hand on his chest and let the other push him down, Sans never letting go of the other's jacket. He was here, here on top of him, here dominating his mouth, here alive. They parted, a web of purple saliva connecting them.

"Yer too good fer me sweetheart," Red smiles, only stains of the red magical trails left. "Ah don't deserve ya.."

Sans smiled, tracing his fingers gently against Red's face, wiping out one of the trails left. He didn't care how many times he had to say it, and how many more he would. Just to make sure, he would always look up at Red, and smile at him genuinely, his face showing nothing but the pure love his words spilled out next.

"Red, you deserve all the good in the goddamn world."

*******************

Everyone: Holy shit that depressed ass is alive? El gasp!

Yes unfortunately I have come again with another shit fic ha ha. This one on a bit of the angstier side. But welp been feeling like shit latetly. But yo, I will do some rare shit

Talk on le fic!

So yeah plenty of ya peeps know about mah issue and shit so may freak ya out how I am writing from the outside perspective. Okay shit is I ship Kustard in the way both have depression and both help each other out but, in the same sense that they each deal with it differently. It was sorta hard for me writing in the outside perspective that still had that understandment, in which I still failed XD. Still I just don't care and it came to me this morning and it is fucking 5 AM so fuck off!!!

Oh yeah and, yo all you sinners

Have fun ;)

Another thing is this might be a sequel to Just Enough probably? Eh

And shout out to @ask-sugar-skull-sans for being my Sans(IN THE PLATONIC WAY YOU SINNERS)

[anotherfiveyears]

23: Stairway to Heaven

Dave climbed out of Jimmy's Camaro and looked up at the massive church. It was the one all his friends got married in, the one he tried to convince Jen to have their own wedding in... he wasn't religious, but he liked the large stained glass windows and how elaborate and grand it felt. It reminded him of home and had a way of making things feel official.

Jimmy nudged his arm and he looked over, almost laughing at his friend's ill-fitting suit, the same one he wore to everyone's wedding as he raided the open bar. "You ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Dave nodded, though he wasn't sure who was getting hitched. At that point in his life, there were several weddings each year. Par for the course when one hits their late twenties, early thirties.

They walked in the church's large front doors and were met with a large group of their friends, all milling about in the hallway quietly talking amongst themselves. He noticed several of Anna's friends as well and began to look over people's heads to find her, spying Amy against the wall with a withering glare fixed directly upon him.

He frowned at her and turned back to Jimmy, "Where's Anna?"

"In here," Jimmy steered him into the sanctuary which was eerily silent compared to the hallway.

Flowers lined the aisle and the altar, surrounding a white casket and a large picture of Anna smiling happily. Dave felt his heart stop and his legs buckle. This was supposed to be a wedding... someone was supposed to be getting married, Jimmy obviously took him into the wrong church. He went to turn back to the hallway, but Amy and her accusing stare shut the massive wooden doors in his face.

"Dude, come on," Jimmy urged, pulling on his suit sleeve.

Thick dread filled his chest the closer he got to the open casket. Anna's parents were in the first pew, leaning into each other and shaking with sobs. The sight of her father, one of the most affable and happiest men he'd ever known, overcome with grief was unnerving and terrifying. Dave hesitated, but Jimmy dragged him on until they were staring down at her.

Her casket was lined with soft pink satin and she lay peacefully atop a white pillow wearing the black velvet dress from New Years. Her hair was still wet, her skin had a touch of blue to it and Dave wondered why no one had taken the time to at least let her hair dry.

"It wasn't your fault, man," Jimmy said through his tears. "You were tired and just fell asleep. It could have happened to any of us."

Wait... what happened? Had he fallen asleep and...? Ben had told him to keep an eye on her... What the fuck was going on? He reached into the casket to take her hand but was startled when she spoke.

"David..." Anna's eyes were open, no longer the deep green he remembered but a foggy white. She reached for him, the bracelet he had given her sparkling in the light from the stained glass windows. "David?"

His eyes sprung open and fell on Anna as she lay motionless beside him.

Fuck. He stared at her in terror for what seemed like an eternity when her chest finally rose and fell. She cried out when he yanked her across the bed towards him, waking her from her deep sleep.

"David! What the hell?!"

He responded by kissing her, all at once relieved and thankful that she was alive and not caring that he had completely pissed her off by waking her up. Her anger was apparently shortlived as she pulled his arm until his body covered hers. It had been almost a year since they were together in the back of his car but it felt like they had never been apart. They laughed as he helped her pull her shirt off, both of them well aware that they were in Jimmy's bed and she was wearing his clothes. Then in the next moment, his forehead was pressed against hers as he sunk into her.

"You aren't wearing your ring," she breathed, meeting his eyes as they fell into a rhythm.

He only shook his head, knowing that's the only answer she needed. The divorce was finalized just before Christmas and while he was relieved, he was also a little sad. Nothing quite like the gift of getting the fuck out of someone else's life during the holidays. Desperate to clear his head of those thoughts, he skimmed his hand down her leg so he could throw it over his hip and suddenly remembered her ankle. "Explain your tattoo."

Anna's eyes darted up to his, "Now?"

"Yes, now." He knew it would drive him insane if she didn't tell him.

She smiled up at him and arched her back, encouraging him to keep going. "It's a ball of yarn and some drumsticks, kitten."

Yarn... kitten... drumsticks. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Anna-"

"Can we please talk about this later?" she stared up at him with pleading eyes as her legs began to tremble.

He relented, pushing the nagging questions to the back of his mind and focused on her, how her body responded to his and his to hers. They might have only been together a handful of times, but each time was more intense and ardent than the previous. He would whisper that he loved her and she would respond without words, kissing him deeply or dragging her nails down his back. This time however, he couldn't stop saying it. Maybe it was because this was the first time they weren't cheating on someone or because that dream had startled some sense into him, but he allowed the idea that he did love her to dwell at the front of his thoughts. He pushed her to the edge and watched her fall apart, kissing her when he was sure the entire house could hear her.

He silently moved his lips against hers, telling her one more time, "I love you, Anna."

"I love you, too, David."

He wasn't prepared for it and his mind reeled over her words while the rest of him shattered above her. She followed his example, kissing him to quiet his swearing until she collapsed back into the pillow.  

"Well, that's one way to cure a hangover," she sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "What the hell brought that on?"

"Fuck," he gasped, out of breath, "I dreamt you were dead."

"Still get those nightmares, huh?" she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah," he swallowed hard. "Yeah, I guess."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," he pulled her to his chest when she scooted closer to him, trying to shake the memory of her lying dead in a metal box. "Here, put this on before Jimmy shows up."  He leaned over and grabbed his discarded shirt from the nightstand and handed it to her.

"Thanks for babysitting me last night, kitten. Sorry if I was a disaster."

"Better me than him," he muttered. The vision of her in a casket was replaced with her lying dead in a snowy ditch and he let out a shaky breath, rolling quickly out of the bed.

"Yeah..." she sighed and sat up against the wall. "Sorry about that, too."

They eyed each other warily for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say when Jimmy barged into the room.

"Holy shit!" he yelled and dove across the bed to Anna, "You're alive!"

She laughed a little and hugged him back, giving Dave a concerned glance as he fled the room. "Was there some notion that I wasn't?" he heard her ask as he ran down the steps.

He had to get away to think. Being with her in bed would only lead to more sex and conversations with topics that never seemed to be fully resolved. Stepping over several people passed out on the living room floor, he could smell the coffee in the kitchen and wondered if Jimmy had even slept. Pouring a cup of jet black coffee, he stood in front of the kitchen window and watched the snow fall softly in the backyard. He thought about asking Anna to come to LA with him. She could quit her job and they could find a place in Beverly Hills or Malibu or where ever she wanted, as long as she was with him.

He had just finished his cup when Anna pulled herself onto the counter next to him and poured herself some coffee. "Jimmy's being really clingy... What the hell I do last night?"

He turned away from the window and leaned against the counter opposite her, taking in that she was wearing his shirt so early in the morning and little else. "You passed out and scared the hell out of us."

"It was just a little nap, David," she laughed softly and took a sip of her coffee, staring out into the snow while he glared at her.

"It wasn't just a nap, Anna. Your hot shot boyfriend slipped you a goddamn roofie," he wasn't lying, necessarily, just expanding on the truth to ensure she didn't go back to that clown.

Her eyes darted to his over her cup and she shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the news. "He didn't slip me anything."

He took a sharp breath to explain in detail what exactly a roofie was because she obviously didn't know when her cheeks turned a suspicious color of pink. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" What the fuck?

"We were having a good time!" she insisted, "There was champagne, then someone had a bag of pills and I just wanted to know what it would feel like."

She couldn't have known, but she had just given him the exact excuse Kurt had used in Rome. "You could have died, Anna!"

"Oh, please," she scoffed and slid off the counter. "Now Mr. Rock Star is giving me the 'Just Say No' talk? How about the time you crashed my parent's anniversary party so far gone on acid that my dad had to talk you down from the roof?"

"That's different and you know it," he almost laughed at the memory of her father trying to coax him down with a raw steak, but he was too pissed off at her.

"Not sure how, but okay," she said flippantly and began to walk away.

"Goddamnit, Anna," he snapped, grabbing her arm and roughly spinning her around.

"No-," she shoved him off and backed up a few steps, anger written all over her face. "You can't just storm into my life like this anymore. I'm not your toy that you can pick up and play with when your fancy fucking rock star life bores you, Dave. I'm sorry if you think I led you on this morning, but it was clearly a mistake."

He stood stunned as she ran up the steps and slammed Jimmy's bedroom door, waking several of the sleeping party goers to greet their hangovers. Moments later she appeared again, wearing Jimmy's sweatshirt and some pajama pants, avoiding his stare as she stomped through the kitchen.

"Anna..., come on," he pleaded. This wasn't how he wanted this morning to go, at all. He watched her slam the front door behind her, then met Jimmy's stare as he stood on the stairs.

"You two back to your old routine, huh?"

Dave hung his head in defeat. The same old routine. See you in a few years, Annie.

[superwhumper06]

I Only Love You- Sterek Whump

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, but Stiles had some really bad luck. That, and he was also the only human in the pack (Allison doesn’t count), which meant he was always the one within the bad guy’s radar. This time was no different.

The pack had been out searching for a rogue hunter group that were out slaughtering werewolves left and right with no rhyme or reason. It was actually super disturbing, the lack of humanity behind the kills. Werewolves were ripped in half, but only after they had been stabbed, beaten, and coated in wolfsbane.

Stiles thought it was overkill, but hunters were hunters. They had their ideas and whatever.

After the pack had exhausted themselves searching the preserve and even a few miles outside the town lines, everyone went their respective ways. Scott and Allison went to Scott’s house, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd headed towards the loft, and Stiles and Derek got in the Jeep.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get into a stupid argument (Stiles can’t even remember what it was about. Probably life and death shit. You know, the usual), which led to Stiles pulling over on the side of the road and practically shoving Derek to out the door. Derek barely got a chance to close the door before Stiles was speeding away, towards his own house, his own bed, and right into the arms of the rogue hunters.

Let it not be said that Stiles is completely helpless, but there is only so much he can do when he’s faced with six hunters, especially when they have at least 4 weapons each. Obviously, it didn’t take them too long to strap him to a chair, and the minute they finished that, they started their questioning.

It was the usual questions.

Who was in his pack? Where was the pack? What were their weaknesses? Why would they let a human be in their pack? Why does Derek deserve the title to this land? Blah, blah, blah.

Stiles could handle the punches. He could take the taunting. What he couldn’t stand, was the blatant disrespect of his mate. The downright disregard of Derek’s right to the land in Beacon Hills. So of course, Stiles got mouthy, and of course the hunters got pissed.

One of the hunters that had been standing in the back for the whole interrogation, stepped forward and produced a wicked looking blade. One minute the knife was in the hunters hand, and the next it was buried deep in Stiles’ side. The fear that gripped Stiles’ heart was nothing compared to the searing pain spreading through his body.

He squeezed his eyes shut and it took everything he had to keep from screaming and giving the hunters that satisfaction. His muscles were locked up in agony, every fiber of his being crying out as he tried to get away from the pure torture in his side. Tears flooded down his face, and it was at this moment, he knew, he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.

And the last time he talked to Derek, they’d had a fight. He would forever regret this.

When the hunter removed the knife from Stiles’ side, a fresh wave of burning pain rippled through him, and then he went limp, the ropes around his wrists the only thing keeping him from falling over.

Stiles couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t feel anything but the excruciating agony cascading down his body. Because of this, Stiles didn’t see the lead hunter answering the phone. He didn’t see the fear that crossed her face as whoever was on the other line relayed their message. He didn’t see the hunters hurriedly pack up their gear and bolt out the front door.

What he did see though, was the steady stream of red flowing freely out of his side, dripping into a puddle on the floor. His last thought before everything went dark was of Derek… and how much this was going to hurt him.

Derek was furious. Not really, but he liked to pretend he was so that he could get over the increasingly thick worry threatening to choke him up. It’s been an hour since Stiles kicked him out of his Jeep. Derek really could have just stayed put and refused to budge, but that would have pissed Stiles off more and he really hates pissing Stiles off…most of the time.

This time was different though. There were tears in Stiles’ eyes when Derek looked back at him. Derek had done some awful shit in his life, but putting those tears in Stiles’ eyes is definitely one of the worst things he’s ever done. Derek hated hurting Stiles. Hated it. But Stiles was so goddamn selfless and brave and just all out beautiful and Derek really couldn’t stand to see him hurt.

That’s why they’d fought. Derek had run off ahead of the pack to check the area, even after Stiles had told him not to. When Derek got caught in a bear trap, Stiles had felt the pain. Apparently Scott had to work him out of a panic attack, because when they showed up to where Derek was crouching over, Stiles’ face was splotchy and red and his heartbeat was erratic.

Stiles hadn’t even said a word. He just let the others get Derek out of the trap, let them figure out how bad the damage was, let them help him back to the road. Stiles wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t talk, and it was then that Derek realized just how much he had scared his mate.

He was so stupid. They were out looking for rogue hunters, and his dumbass got caught in a bear trap, and almost gave his mate a heart attack. No wonder Stiles had reeked of fear. Stiles thought Derek had been captured. Fuck. He really needed to get to Stiles.

As he grabbed his keys, he noticed a sharp pain radiating from his side. He dismissed it at first, writing it off as a cramp, and started down the stairs to his camaro.

As he raced outside, the dull ache in his side suddenly became all out agony. Derek couldn’t blame it on cramps anymore. Something was wrong.

He took out his phone immediately, Stiles’ number on speed dial, hoping, praying, that this was just a weird fluke and that everything was fine. The answering pulse of pain brought him to his knees…and he just knew. Stiles was dying.

Derek roared, every ounce of pain and fear coursing through his body flooding into his scream. There was only one running through his head: Save Stiles. Bypassing his car, Derek raced on foot to the house that had become his second home. The place where his mate grew up. Where his mate was currently dying, alone, and terrified. Fear pushed him harder, pain pulled him in, and soon he was standing on the steps of the one place he never thought he’d see through fearful eyes. He slammed through the front door, not even bothering to check if it was unlocked, and was assaulted by the thick cloying scent of Stiles, of his mate, bloody and unconscious. The reek of fear soaked the house around him, and underneath the fear was the pain. Stiles was in so much pain. If Derek hadn’t been holding onto the doorway, he would have fallen over and never gotten back up. He could barely breathe through the smells around him. His head was swimming, his hearing was muffled, everything rippling around him like newly disturbed water, and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. Derek leaned over and threw up everything in his stomach. He heaved and heaved, and then…he was sobbing. Fat tears dripped on the floor, snot running down his face but Derek could care less. This was his mate. And he could no longer feel him. Terrified of what he was going to discover, he slowly made his way over to where Stiles was slouched over, unmoving. Derek’s hands trembled as he approached, so scared that when he reached for Stiles’ pulse point, that it wouldn’t be there. That it would just be silent and gone and empty. A few more steps and then Derek dropped to his knees, face to face with his bloody mate, fear wrapping around his heart like barbed wire. Slowly, he reached up, hands shaking, and felt for Stiles’ pulse.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five long seconds passed and nothing. There was nothing. Nothing but silence.

“No no no no no, you cannot do this to me. Wake up Stiles. Wake up!” Derek was screaming. He was shaking so hard he could barely keep his body up. He ripped through the ropes around Stiles’ wrists and ankles, gently lifting Stiles out of the chair and onto the floor, letting his head fall on his lap. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. On the floor, on the chair, on Stiles. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him up and rocking back and forth as the grief finally hit him. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. They were supposed to adopt a few kids, make fun of the pack, grow old together. Not this. Never this. Stiles was Derek’s rock, he couldn’t lose him. Not now, not ever. Derek put his head on Stiles’ and sobbed. He could no longer hold back. Sobs ripped through him and all he could do was sit and rock, hoping, praying, for some kind of miracle. Something other than this god awful emptiness in his chest where his heart used to be. Through his tears and the cotton that stuffed his ears, Derek didn’t hear the sluggish thump thump of a heartbeat below him. He didn’t hear the gasp of pain from his mate. In fact, he didn’t even realize what was going on until a hand gripped his bicep. Time seemed to slow down, speed up, then stop all together when Derek realized just was happening. Stiles was alive. Stiles was alive! He was breathing, moving, groaning, and…oh shit. “Oh my god, Stiles! Holy shit, you’re alive. You’re alive! I love you oh my god I love you so much. Wait, don’t try to move, I’m gonna set you down.” Relief sliced through the fear around his heart and soon Derek felt like he was floating, too relieved to even pretend he wasn’t crying. Stiles was alive! He gently set Stiles down on the floor, careful to cradle his head. Stiles’ answering groan was almost enough to knock Derek over, but he had to stay strong. He had to stay up for Stiles. Had to save him. Had to tell him…

“Stiles. Oh my god, Stiles, baby I love you so fucking much. Don’t ever, ever do that to me again. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.” Derek spoke through his tears, eyes never leaving Stiles’ face as it scrunched up in pain.

Now that Derek wasn’t crippled with grief and pain and fear, he realized that he should probably get something to stop the bleeding on Stiles’ side. Unable, and unwilling, to leave Stiles’ side, Derek just shrugged off his jacket and pressed it against the angry red wound.

Stiles whimpered, and Derek whispered sweet nothings to him, and then Stiles was looking him in the eyes.

“That’s…that’s your favorite…favorite jacket.” A laugh burst through Derek, unsuspected and unwanted, but present nonetheless. It was so like Stiles to be worrying over Derek’s favorite jacket even though he was bleeding out on the floor. So like Stiles that the laugh became tears yet again, because he almost lost this. He almost lost Stiles.

“This jacket means nothing to me if you’re not around to steal it.” Derek winced internally. If Stiles was at full glory, Derek would never, ever live that comment down. He can only hope Stiles doesn’t remember it. (Yeah right)

“You know what, forget I said that. I’m gonna call an ambulance.”

The smile that graced Stiles’ face then, though pained, was one of the most beautiful things Derek had ever seen and Derek was determined to see it every day for the rest of his life. “I love you. You know that right?” Stiles’ strained voice spoke up, and as Derek thumbed in the numbers for an ambulance, his other hand still pressing his jacket onto Stiles’ side, he felt a warmth grow where the emptiness had been not two minutes ago.

“You better fucking believe it. I love you so goddamn much. Let’s never fight again.”

Stiles’ answering chuckle was music to Derek’s ears, even though it started up a coughing fit that left Stiles breathing hard and uneven. A constipated look passed over Stiles’ face and he said, “I’m sorry.” Derek just shushed him, told him everything was gonna be alright. They could talk about this later. Derek could hear the sirens down the road, could hear the slow breathing of his mate below him, and he just breathed. Just let the noises surround him and caress his still aching chest. The feeling of Stiles dying would stay with him forever, and he would never get over it, but for this one night, he would just enjoy the fact that his mate was alive, breathing, and ready to fight another day.

Derek would never survive without Stiles. Good thing that at least for today, he won’t have to try.

On Ao3 :)- http://archiveofourown.org/works/13709553

[capbucky-0506]

Protecting Their Own (Riverdale CrewxReader)

This fic deals with emotional and physical abuse, so if you're suffering from that, just know that you have the power to stop it. Make sure to tell someone so they can help. Ily guys💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your heels clicked as you walked into Pop's Chock-Lit Shop, searching for your favorite mystery in all of Riverdale: Jughead Jones. You've been friends since birth, your father being best friends with his father. They were both Serpents, so you and Jughead saw each other often. He was more than just a regular friend, he was your brother. Until 2 years ago. After your father died, your Socialite mother decided that Riverdale wasn't a good environment for you. In her words, "A small town like that is an embarrassment for any daughter of mine." So, she made you pack up and move to England with her, attending a stuffy private school. To say you didn't like your mom was an understatement. She left your father after you were born and ran off with some rich old dude that already died, so she was left with all the money. And, to make matters worse, she ripped you from your home and made you move in with her, then verbally abused you ever since you got there. But now, you were back. Your mom decided you were a hopeless case and sent you packing, the best decision she's ever made. You practically bolted to the airport, crying tears of joy on the plane ride. When you got off, you took a good look in the mirror and smiled softly. In the past two years, you've gained a figure, changed your hairstyle, and adopted a British accent. You were no longer the girl with glasses and bad acne. After throwing your bags in your car, the one you left hidden before you left, you started to drive around in your search for Jughead, which is how you ended up in Pop's. You used to work here before you moved. Pop Tate's face lit up as soon as you walked through the door. "Is that who I think it is?" You giggled. "I'm back!" "Y/N!" Pop pulled you into a hug. When he pulled away, he spun you around. "Look at you! What happened to the Converse and the leather jacket?" "Ugh, believe me, I'm changing right back into that later. In England, my mother always made me wear heels until my feet gave out and dresses until I couldn't breathe anymore. I couldn't even eat what I wanted! I'd kill for a burger right now." "Anything for my Y/N. Thinkin' about workin' here again?" "Is my job still available?" "It always has been. I expect you here after school on Monday. But for now, settle down and I'll have a burger with fries and a milkshake ready in no time." You beamed. "Thanks, Pop!" "You got it. And love the accent, by the way." Laughing, you look around until you see a familiar beanie in one of the booths, the only person in the entire diner. Pulling down the sleeves of your long-sleeved dress, you walk over to where Jughead has his back to you and headphones in his ears, typing away on his laptop. You lightly tapped his shoulder. He took out his headphones and looked to you. "One newly British best friend for a Juggie Jones?" He had a shocked expression on his face. "Y/N?" "That's me." He got up from the booth and engulfed you in a hug, spinning you around. "Holy shit, Y/N! You're back!" You laughed out loud. "Just got back today!" He set you down and placed his hands on your shoulders. "What happened? Did you run away? Escape your mom? Why are you dressed like this? What's with the accent? Are you okay? Are you saf-"

"Juggie! Calm down! The Wicked Bitch sent me packing. Apparently, I wasn't meeting her standards for a perfect daughter, which is fine by me! I haven't changed yet, so I'm wearing what she usually made me wear in England. She always said, 'The tighter the better'. And as for the accent, it's just something I've picked up in boarding school." He pulled you into a hug. "The tighter the better? Y/N, you look like you haven't eaten in forever." "I feel like I haven't eaten in forever. Pop Tate is already getting me some food, which I've been dying for." Jughead let you go and you both slid into the booth, sitting across from each other. He took your hand in his. "I haven't heard from you in forever. I thought I'd lost you." "You never lost me, Juggie. She took away my phone and reprogrammed it so I could only call her or any person I met in boarding school that 'met her standards'. It was barbaric." Pop Tate brought over your burger, fries, and milkshake. "It's on the house, Y/N. And if you don't mind closing up as I leave-" You smiled. "I got it, Pop." When he walked out, Jughead took one of your fries as you started devouring your burger. "Y/N, what she did to you is actual torture. You need to tell someone." "I'm telling you?" "I mean, you need to get her arrested. Do you have any proof that she abused you?" You pulled out your phone, which you reprogrammed so you could now call anyone. "I have these messages she sent me. They were...verbally abusive. It won't be enough to prove anything, though. Honestly, Jug, I just want to forget England ever happened. It's fine, we don't need to fight my mothe-" "Y/N, what's that?" He pulled up your sleeve to reveal scars on your wrist. "Juggie-" "What. Is. That?" He pulled up the sleeve on your other arm to reveal more scars. You feel your face start to get hot. "Juggie, please-" "Did she do this?" He was trying unsuccessfully to stay calm. You feel tears forming in your eyes as you mutter out, "Yes." That one word set him off. He grabbed his jacket and he stormed out. "Jughead, wait!" You run out of the diner, anxiety kicking in. You catch up to Jughead opening the door to a truck and slam the door before he could climb in. You snatch the key out of his hand. "JUGHEAD JONES, PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!" "How'd she give you those scars, Y/N? HOW?" You felt tears falling on your face. "I tried to escape, okay?! I tried almost every trick in the book just to get back to you and Betty and Archie! But you know what she did? She found out every fucking time! Finally, she started chaining me to the bed! She would sedate me just to shut me up! That's why I have these scars! I also have scars on my stomach from when she hit me with a belt for getting second place in a goddamn beauty pageant! SECOND FUCKING PLACE! I don't want to face her again, Jughead! I WON'T!" At this point, you were sobbing into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you and wasn't about to let go. A few moments later, he pulled you away and took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears. "We're going to fix this. She's going to pay, because you didn't deserve anything she did to you. You're my best friend and I love you, and I'm going to protect you. She's not gonna hurt you anymore." Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him. In this moment, right now, you've never felt safer. After a few seconds, he pulls away. "Let me go grab my laptop and lock up and I'll drive you someplace." You nod, climbing into the car as he runs back into the diner. After a few minutes, he comes back with his laptop and your milkshake and locks up the place. He hands you the shake as he starts the car and takes off.

"Juggie, where are we going?" "There are a few people you have to see." He parks in front of the Andrews' house and opens the car door for you. You leave the empty milkshake glass in the car and step out, holding onto him as he leads you to the front door. Without even having to knock, the door flings open, Archie on the other side. "Y/N!" "Archie!" He engulfs you in a hug, bringing you close to his chest. You immediately notice how buff he's gotten, and how grown up he looks. He pulls away and leads you both inside. "Jughead told us everything, and we're all here to help." "All?" The boys lead you into the living room and you audibly gasp. In the short time it took to drive over here, Jughead and Archie had managed to gather their dads, Betty, Polly (who was now pregnant?), her parents, Kevin, Sheriff Keller, Josie, Valerie, Melody, Mayor McCoy, Cheryl, a raven-haired girl you've never met before, and a woman who you guessed was her mom. "Y/N!" Everyone who was there gave you a hug. You put your hand on Polly's stomach to feel the baby-or babies-kick and you congratulated her. You found out about Jason and told Cheryl how sorry you were. After greeting FP, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You whipped around to see the raven-haired girl behind you. "Hi, I'm Veronica Lodge," she said, shaking your hand. "My mom and I moved here not too long ago." Her mom stood next to her and shook your hand as well. "Hermione Lodge. It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Everyone doesn't stop talking about you."

You smiled. "It's nice to meet you both." Archie walked up to Veronica and put an arm around her. "Ronnie, Y/N is the girl I was telling you about. My friend since we were in diapers." "Hopefully you have plenty of embarrassing stories about him." You laughed. "Believe me, I do." "Okay, everyone," Mayor McCoy announces. "Let's all settle down now." Everyone took a seat, you sitting between Cheryl and Josie. You notice Betty cuddling up to Jughead and you smile. You've been wanting those two to get together for the longest! Sheriff Keller and Mayor McCoy stood up in front of everyone. Mayor McCoy clears her throat. "Y/N L/N has been the heart and soul of Riverdale for as long as I can remember. She's managed to charm everyone she meets, she's contributed to this town in a way no one else has, and she has been a top student throughout her life." You smile as she says this, resting your head on Cheryl's shoulder. "But she is the daughter of a Southside Serpent and the women who attempted to ruin Riverdale's reputation. That could cause people to gravitate away from her, but it never does. Why? Because she has a kind heart. And while we've learned that the Serpents are not to be judged, especially not her father, may he rest in peace, her mother is still a problem. Sheriff Keller?" He steps forward. "Amelia L/N has been an enemy of Riverdale for a long time, but none of us had ever thought she was capable of this type of abuse. She took away one of our best and hurt her in ways that are unthinkable." Josie grabs your hand as he says this, while Cheryl wipes away a few stray tears from your face. "Amelia used to be one of us before she turned against us. And while I'm only in charge of crimes within the town, I will be the first to fight for justice. Y/N, we are all gathered here today for you. Kevin and I will personally go to England, if we have to. Your mom won't be a problem anymore." The rest of the parents-Fred Andrews, Hermione Lodge, Alice Cooper, Hal Cooper, and FP Jones- all got up and stood next to Mayor McCoy and Sheriff Keller. "We are all here to protect you kids," Fred says. "And Y/N, Y/N is one of ours." "Y/N, I've known your dad for a very long time," FP says. "I've watched you grow up. And I'll fight for justice however long it takes." Hal held Alice's hand as she spoke. "Y/N, you've been so good to Betty and Polly. The past two years have felt so empty without you in our home. I've despised Amelia for years now, and I'll stop at nothing to see her in a jail cell." Hermione spoke last. "Y/N, I've been talking to everyone, and we've come to the decision that, instead of going back to your father's trailer, you come stay with me and Veronica. We have plenty of room." "I can lend you my clothes and help you catch up with current events," Veronica adds. "What do you say?" You stood up, looking around the room. Finally, you spoke, switching back to your American accent. "I'm in." Everyone cheered and you hugged Veronica. "I have a feeling we're going to be good friends."

She beamed. "Me too." That night, you walked out of Archie's house with Veronica, Betty, Jughead, Archie, Kevin, Cheryl, Josie, Valerie, and Melody. "I've missed you guys," you say to them. "We've missed you too." And with that, you all parted with your parents to your houses, yours now being the Pembrooke. When you finally got there, their butler, Smithers, took your bags and went inside with Veronica and Hermione. "Coming, Miss L/N?" "In a minute." When you were finally alone, you held up the leather jacket FP handed you before you left. "Serpents protect their own." Smiling, you pulled it on and looked at the stars. "Goodbye, daddy," you mutter. "I'll tell your story." You finally walked into the Pembrooke, ready to start your new life.

[ddproductionsw77]

Little Drunk, Lotta Careless (A Riarkle Future One-Shot)

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Pairing(s): Riarkle

Characters: (Major) Riley Matthews and Farkle Minkus, (Supporting) Topanga Lawrence-Matthews, Cory Matthews, and Auggie Matthews, (Mentioned, mean kinda?) Sophia Mars Minkus (oc)

Rating: T because, like, retrospective thoughts about sex and language.

Description: “The color pink has never seemed so intimidating” Riley finds out she is pregnant for the first time as a Senior in college. (Pregnancy-Test fic)

Author’s Note: This is Riley finding she’s pregnant with Sophia, for those of you who have read Just Go To Sleep, Riles. If you haven’t…GO DO IT!!! It’s basically a sequel!

“Okay, Riley, breathe. Just breathe,” The jumpy brunette muttered to herself, bouncing on the balls of her feet as her gaze flickered over the shelves before her. “It’s just a little plastic stick! Nothing to be freaked out about.”

But it wasn’t just a little plastic stick and there were about a million to choose from and there was definitely something going on to be freaked out about. 

Riley Matthews had never bought a pregnancy test in her life and had only seen one done once before, the time Maya had had her ‘big scare’. How was she supposed to know whether to go digital or not? Cheap or expensive? A single test kit or the pack with, like, ten?

How did other women do this?  

And who the fuck thought to put the goddamn diapers across the aisle from the pregnancy tests anyway? Because whoever it was, was an asshole.

Riley was nearing the point where tears of frustration were welling in her eyes when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Starting, she gasped and whirled around.

A woman, a little older than her, stood there with a kind smile on her face and a small toddler on her hip. “Want some help?”

“I- Uh, would you mind?” Riley stuttered, sheepishly.

With a laugh, the woman stepped forward and passed her child off to Riley without warning, looking over the tests more closely. The brunette yelped, holding the child in her arms awkwardly.

Holy fuck, she couldn’t even hold a goddamn baby!

But the little boy seemed completely at ease, oblivious to Riley’s discomfort. He was more interested in the necklace hanging from her neck on a long, shiny chain with a glittering pendant. Maya had given her the necklace a few months ago, on her birthday.

“I like ClearBlue or First Response,” The boy’s mother broke back in, turning to Riley with a box in each hand. She looked the brunette over and narrowed her eyes, “How pregnant are you thinking?”

What?

Riley had not had the courage yet to even think in terms of being a certain amount of ‘pregnant’. Because she wasn’t even sure she was and if she was then… Well, wasn’t that it? How could one be more or less pregnant?

She must have looked at lost as she felt because the mother giggled and held a hand up, “Forgive me. I mean, how many weeks along do you think you are?”

Um, hopefully, none? Riley wanted to answer but instead instantly blurted out, “Over a month?”

Because fuck Valentine's Day.

And Champagne. That's where this whole mess had started, with the two of them a little drunk and a lotta careless.

The woman nodded, putting one of the boxes back and turning back to Riley with the other. She took her baby boy back, relieving some of the pressure in the girl’s chest, and passed the test over with a smile.

“Good luck.”

And then she left, casually grabbing some Pampers as she passed.

“Good luck?” Riley echoed incredulously under her breath as she looked down at the pregnancy test in her shaking hands. What did that even mean?

Riley Matthews knew that she did want a family, a baby, with Farkle Minkus someday. How could she not? She was too maternal in nature to never be a mother and Farkle, well, Farkle would be an incredible father.

Just the thought brought a million flashing images to her mind…

Farkle watching Bill Nye the Science Guy with a little boy with big blue eyes or teaching a little one to walk as they gripped his hands with each step or kissing a small princess' forehead to check for fevers the same way he did whenever Riley was sick.

That thought made her throat tighten and her eyes burn. Oddly, it wasn't out of entirely out of fear or dread, either. It came from the beauty that the thought called to her mind. And, god, it would be so beautiful.

Someday.

It would be so beautiful, someday. They weren’t ready for that now though.

Right?

Riley nervously paid for the test and made her way home in the same public subway system she’d been taking her whole life, heart pounding in her chest and grocery bag crinkling in her hand. Reaching the shitty studio apartment on Adams Street where she and Farkle had now been living for over two years, she struggled with the lock on the front door that always caught and slammed a shoulder against the wood to get it open.

She was lucky Farkle wasn’t home, his temporary assistant position at Minkus International keeping him pretty busy in the time not already dedicated to school or his paid lab internship. 

Just another reason they couldn’t be having a baby… There was no time for one!

But even stubborn Riley Matthews had to admit at this point that the possibility wasn’t exactly… ludicrous.

Something was defiantly off, different. Her body didn’t feel… right?

Not that is felt ‘wrong’ either; that wasn’t quite the word for it.

But she couldn’t exactly ignore the fact that suddenly her usual breakfast of oatmeal and apples looked incredibly unappetizing and made her stomach churn threateningly. Farkle’s cologne, her favorite scent in the whole world, had started triggering her gag reflex as well, to the point where she’d started having to dodge hugs and kisses just to be sure she wouldn’t loose her stomach all over her fiancé.

And her boobs!

All her bras felt suffocating and painful, making her sore by the time she was finally home every evening and able to change out of them.

All that, combined with a period that simply refused to come, and an offhanded joke from Maya —geez, you’re moody. What are you, pregnant?—, had made Riley think that maybe, just maybe, there was a situation that needed handling.

After all, she could remember Valentine’s Day very vividly and knew that she and Farkle hadn’t been as careful as they normally were. It had happened once or twice before and had never been a big deal, they’d figured ‘what the hell’, right?

Well, none of the other times came with side effects, like this one. Riley admitted, grudgingly, as she ripped open the test box and allowed a slim, wrapped stick to fall into her hand. Suddenly, she felt sick again.

Maybe she should wait? Take the test in a few more weeks? What if it was too early and she got a false positive or something and it turned out to be nothing? Because it had to be nothing…

She hadn’t even told Farkle she was late yet, that any of this was even a possibility…

That everything might be about to change.

She barely managed to take the damn thing with all the complicated instructions —Only test for five seconds, wait at least two minutes, results may be faint, works best first thing in the morning. It felt like having a lab day in high school biology. Instead of extracting the DNA of a strawberry, however, she was testing to see if a tiny human being was currently residing in her uterus.

1 minute, 45 seconds.

Riley wished she could just stop thinking. Thinking always got her into trouble, always made everything a million times worse. She wished she could just relax.

1 minute, 10 seconds.

She wasn't even making any sense, but how could she? How did someone not loose their cool when doing this? How did they not completely freak the fuck out?

37 seconds.

It wasn’t going to be positive. It just couldn’t be.

23 seconds.

But… But what if it was positive?

12 seconds.

Once again, fuck Valentine’s Day.

3 seconds.

Riley was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that she was going to throw up as her phone timer hit zero and her gaze flickered to the upside down test waiting on the counter. Slowly, she made her way over. With shaking hands, Riley picked up the thin, white stick; the pregnancy test quivered in her grip, her light blue nail polish contrasting with the bright pink cap.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Riley counted to 3, prayed, and flipped the test.

The color pink had never seemed so intimidating, especially as it defined two bold lines.

Positive. Unquestionably, undeniably positive.

Her vision blurred as a hand came up to cover her mouth, her heart racing a million miles a minute and her breathing coming in gasps.

Oh, god, she was pregnant.

And incredibly lightheaded.

Trembling with tears — Happy? Sad? Scared? All of the above? — welling in her eyes, Riley sat on the closed toilet lid and tried to think straight. It felt a little like trying to breathe underwater or read a sign from 100 miles away.

Pregnant. Knocked-up. With child. Expecting. Having a baby. Bun in the oven.

Holy mother of god, she was pregnant!

The ridiculousness of the mere thought made her giggle, which broke into a sob and then something kind of like a strangled laugh. A kaleidoscope of emotions flirted with her racing heart, fluctuating too fast for her to even know what she was feeling.

Her hand slipped from her mouth, trembling as it fell over her flat stomach, checking that it was still just that — flat. Only it wasn’t… there was the slightest curve, firm and round against her palm. Somewhere beneath her skin, sheltered within her body, cells were multiplying and colliding and creating. Pieces of Farkle and piece of her becoming irrevocably sewn together to form one, precious life.

Sitting there on the toilet lid with a positive pregnancy test in one hand and the other covering her middle, Riley Matthews had never felt so lost and there was only one person in the whole world she wanted to talk to. One person who would make it all okay, somehow.

Riley really wished she had waited until Farkle was home.

But she also wasn’t sure she could face him just yet... So, Riley decided to go for the next best thing.

She needed her mother.

Spending the night at my parents. Text me if you need me.

Love,

Riley

Farkle Minkus read the post-it over three more times with a crinkled brow before sticking it back to the fridge.

He’d come home, tired and more than a little worn down, expecting to slip into his normal spot between his fiancée and the back of the couch and bury his face in her silken hair. Work was long and degrading and hard and he’d just wanted Riley.

But he’d gotten a post-it note.

It’d been forever, a year or more at least, since Riley had last spent the night at her parents. Now, when she did it was normally because she was having a sleepover with Maya or because Farkle had to cover someone’s late shift and she didn’t want to sleep in an empty apartment.

Not because… Well, he didn’t know.

Running a hand through his styled hair, Farkle loosened his tie and shot Riley a quick text.

To The Babe: I’m gonna miss you :(

After hitting send, he quickly reheated some leftovers for dinner and ate while scanning through his advanced economics book. The tension in his muscles demanded attention and he decided to take a shower before settling in for the night.

Glancing at his phone, Farkle saw that his fiancée had ‘read’ his text but hadn’t replied.

…Had he screwed up?

He couldn’t remember doing anything, thinking retrospectively as he headed to the bathroom. Stepping into the room, Farkle stepped onto something crinkly and bent over to pick up a slender, empty, open packet.

What the- His narrowed eyes scanned the letters printed on the side.

First Response Pregnancy Test

Farkle’s stomach hit the floor, the air swept from his lungs.

Everything began clicking together at a dizzyingly quick pace, leaving the genius feeling as if he had been picked up by a tornado and was spiraling around a funnel cloud. Riley’s absence and vague note, even the text he’d sent that had gone unanswered…

But if Riley had thought she was, He swallowed hard and rubbed his forehead, She would have said something. She wouldn’t keep something like that to herself.

Still, who else would have been using a pregnancy test in their apartment? Maya, maybe? Though Maya wasn’t the one acting weird the last few weeks. No, that had definitely been his fiancée. She’d complained for weeks about feeling funny but he’d just thought, well, honestly he hadn’t really thought about it at all and maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything else?

God, Farkle thought he might be sick.

Riley might be…

He needed to talk to Riley.

Farkle was panting and buzzing by the time be made to the Matthews’ residence, pressing a little frantically on the speaker box. He really hated that he had to be fucking buzzed in just to see the woman that could very possibly be having his baby. It seemed really fucking unnecessary.

“Yes?”

He leaned into the box, recognizing his fiancée’s gentle voice, “Riley, I think we need to talk.”

There was a long silence. “Farkle, I told you-“

“Actually, I don’t think you did.” He cut in, impatiently. Farkle didn’t have to say anything else, Riley knew exactly what he was referring to and her head spun on the other side of the speaker box. Without another word, she buzzed him in.

Farkle climbed the stairs two at a time, almost tripping multiple times. He didn’t care just then, he just needed to get to Riley. Everything would make sense once he saw her like it always did. She gave his life clarity, perspective, and without her, things blurred and got foggy.

When he reached the Matthews’ floor, Riley was already in the open doorway with her arms crossed. Her hair was hanging in a half-updo, the top twisted into a clumsy bun. Her expression was one of slight annoyance and indifference, but her eyes held something else. Something that made Farkle really fucking nervous.

“So, when were you going to tell me?” He asked, stepping up to her.

Behind her, he could see Topanga watching them closely from the kitchen while Cory and Auggie glanced around on the couch in confusion. Riley darted her head back to look at them, shifting uneasily on her feet before hissing, “Farkle! We are not discussing this right here!”

Looking back at her father, mother, and brother, Farkle raised his hand in a quick wave. Cory slowly responded, a questioning look on his face. Turning his eyes back down to Riley, Farkle nodded, “Fair enough.”

She looked relieved for a second before Farkle reached out and lightly grasped her arm, “Hey, remember this?”

The genius dragged her out into the hallway, letting the door close behind her, just like they’d done so many times before. Farkle kept his firm but lose grip on her arm as he pulled her up the staircase that lead to the rooftop.

Once they were through the heavy metal outer door, Farkle let Riley go and spun to face her, looking a little manic, very tired, and desperate for answers.

“Are you,” He faltered, closing his eyes and shaking his head before opening them and trying again, “Riley, are you pregnant?”

Her eyes darted away from him as the word left his mouth and it was all the answer he needed. The earth seemed to tilt on its axis because holy shit Riley was pregnant; he was going to be somebody’s father, someone’s Dad.

Who in all the cosmos had thought that that was a good idea?

Still, as cold terror saturated his system, Farkle could feel something else blossom in his chest. Something warm, fierce, and protective. It took him a moment to realize it was… love. A love similar to his for Riley in intensity and yet entirely different.

Riley shifted, crossing her arms over her chest again and drawing his eyes to her abdomen. Did it look any different? Did she? Had he just been blind for weeks?

“Look, Farkle, I know we weren’t plan-“

Before he could even register his own actions, Farkle closed the space between them and swept the love of his life into his arms, kissing her like he might die if he didn’t. He honestly thought he could…

Pressing her against the wall behind them, Farkle set her feet back on the ground, moving his hands to cup her face and kissing her until his lungs screamed for oxygen. Pulling away ever so slightly, so that his lips still brushed hers as he spoke, he let out a breathless laugh of disbelief.

Riley, a little dazed from the kiss, opened her eyes to meet electric blue. Her rapidly beating heart stood still for an instant and melted as she took in the tears pooling in the boy’s eyes and heard the little break in his voice as he asked, “We’re having a baby?”

Breaking into an involuntary smile, a single petrified laugh slipped past Riley’s lips as she nodded, nose brushing against Farkle’s, “Yeah, we are.” Biting her lip, she brought a hand up to brush her thumb over the curve of her fiancé’s cheekbone. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” His voice broke again and he groaned in frustration, clearing his throat. Riley took his hands in hers and waited for him to continue, “Why would I be mad? Terrified, yeah, but not mad. Riley, we’re having a baby! That’s…”

Her grin widened until her cheeks hurt and she nodded, filling the blank for him, “Insane?”

“Completely fucking insane,” Farkle implored, shaking his head in disbelief and gazing up at the sky before his eyes fell back down to the woman he was going to marry, the woman who was now carrying his child. “It’s a good thing, right? You’re happy?”

Riley paused for a second, eyebrows drawing together before she slowly nodded, a giggle bubbling up and slipping out, “Yeah, I am.”

Farkle leaned down and hugged her against him. Riley’s chin rested on his shoulder as she gripped back onto him. Burying his face in that silky hair, hair he prayed their son or daughter would get, Farkle took a deep breath.

“Me too.”

And that, my friends, is the story of how Riley and Farkle learned of the budding existence of Sophia Mars Minkus… I don’t even know if she’s developed enough at this point to even be a girl, honestly, but ONE DAY!!! Happy Mother’s Day, guys!