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silverlightqueen · 4 years

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Cursed

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

wizard!Seungmin x human!reader - crack comedy, y/n’s a bit of a spoilt brat and Seungmin is not down for it lol

Word Count: 3k+

Summary - Seungmin is the best wizard in town. Poisoned by a pixie? Battered by a troll? Bitten by a were? Whatever the magical injury, Seungmin can fix it in the bat of an eyelid. So when y/n is cursed by a witch and needs his help, she expects to leave his lair curseless only a few minutes later. But her plan… doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings: y/n is a total judgemental bitch lmao and Seungmin wants to teach her a lesson, brief mention of blood and vomit, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed else!

a/n: and here is the seventh instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you @silverlightprincess for being the best (she didn’t proofread this either but she’s about to read it after I post it and check for mistakes which I will go back and edit lmao). please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

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‘Hi, how can I help?’ the receptionist says, looking up from her computer to give me a friendly smile. ‘Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Kim at 1.30,’ I say, and she blinks at me in surprise before looking at her computer, clicking away. ‘Ah, y/n y/l/n, is it? You booked yesterday?’ ‘Yes, that’s me.’ ‘You’re lucky to get an appointment with Dr Kim so late. And during his lunch break, too! Do you know him?’ she asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘I used to. We… went to school together.’ ‘Oh, that’s nice! Well, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here,’ she says cheerily, and I give her a weak smile before turning to take a seat.

The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery is unlike any Doctors’ Surgery I’ve ever seen before; the reception is relatively normal, with its cold lighting, linoleum flooring and hard backed chairs, but the patients are quite… abnormal. A man is sat two seats away from me, his body covered in hair and long sharp claws protruding from his fingers – I hear him telling the fairy beside him, whose wings are wilted and colourless, that he hasn’t been able to fully turn into his wolf form or his human form for weeks. Opposite them, a vampire sits with a bucket in his lap, vomiting blood into it every few moments, and the centaur stood beside his seat with his tail wrapped in a bloody bandage rubs his back soothingly. I think I’m the only human in here.

Normally, I’d have driven out to the Doctors’ Surgery in the next district – everyone knows that The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery caters specifically to magical injuries – but I somehow don’t think my problem can be solved by a human doctor. When I phoned the surgery yesterday, I asked for the next possible appointment. I was told by the receptionist that that wouldn’t be until mid-November, which never would’ve worked. So I did what I swore I wouldn’t do, and asked the receptionist to ask Dr Kim if he had any availability for y/n y/l/n. The receptionist sounded sceptical, but he put me on hold anyway, and came back to tell me that Dr Kim said he could just about fit me in.

‘Miss y/l/n? Dr Kim is ready to see you in Room 13,’ the receptionist calls out, and I rise from my chair, passing the vomiting vampire with a wince. I head down the clinical corridor, white bar lights flickering overhead, and when I reach Room 13, I take a deep breath and raise my hand to the door. I knock once, twice, and then wait to be told to come in. I hear nothing. I roll my eyes, knocking again a few moments later, and then I hear him call out, ‘Come in!’

I turn the handle, tentatively opening the door and slipping into the room. Whilst the reception may have looked like any old Doctors’ Surgery, Room 13 certainly does not. The walls are black and purple, flickering yellow lamps casting an eerie glow and providing the brightness that the room needs due to having no windows. The floor is an ugly brown and red patterned carpet, the kind you find in a decades old manor house, and wooden shelves and chests of drawers are dotted around the room, covered with various suspicious looking bottles and jars. Old tapestries hang on the walls, and mismatched armchairs and beanbags sit around the rickety table in the middle of the room – I suppose it’s more of a kitchen island type thing than a table – which has a crystal ball, magic wands and various mystical objects sitting atop it. The only things in the room that don’t look otherworldly or ancient are the laptop on the table, and the man stood in front of it, typing away.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I just shut the door behind me, throwing myself down onto the comfiest looking armchair, practically sinking into it. I busy myself with filing my freshly done nails – I love my nail lady, but she can somehow never get them all even – whilst I wait for him to be done. ‘I just cleaned the room and you’re getting nail filings everywhere,’ he says after a few minutes, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you cleaned it? It looks a state,’ I say dryly, and he lets out a little laugh as I pull a flask out of my bag. I get up from my seat and hand him the flask, ignoring his raised eyebrow. ‘Wait, is this-’ ‘Iced americano. The way you like it,’ I say, and he grins, taking it from me with badly hidden excitement. ‘Look at you. Sweetening me up,’ he observes amusedly, and I roll my eyes again. ‘I was making it for myself but now I feel a little sick, so you can have it,’ I lie, and he just gives me a suspicious side-eye before sipping from the flask and letting out a blissful sigh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks after a few seconds, and I sigh, dragging one of the higher chairs over to the table and sitting on it, not wanting to be a few feet shorter than him in the armchair. ‘I need your help with something,’ I say, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you’re actually here to be treated?’ ‘Um… yes. Why else would I be here?’ I ask confusedly, and he hesitates. ‘Thought you might be here to… see me,’ he says quietly, and I feel a little awkward. ‘I… Seungmin, you have to understand w-’ ‘I understand, y/n, I completely understand, and I don’t blame you. It’s just that I’ve… missed you. And I don’t mean I’ve missed our relationship. I’ve missed you in my life. You don’t even show up to family events anymore, and my mum keeps asking why she hasn’t seen you. I don’t have the heart to tell her what happened,’ he murmurs, my heart twisting with guilt. I’m not quite sure what to say, desperately wracking my brains, but there isn’t anything to say, so we’re both silent.

Seungmin and I grew up living in houses opposite each other. Our parents were best friends, so we were best friends. We remained that way through nursery, all of school, and into our adult lives too. I was quite proud of having a wizard best friend who could solve nearly any problem I ever had. He made sure I never failed any tests, hurt myself, got into trouble, and he fixed anything I ever broke, found everything I ever lost, made sure nothing bad ever happened to me. And then we did the worst thing we could’ve done, and we fell in love with each other. Two years later, I had aged two years, and Seungmin had not – wizards are immortal, and so he stopped aging from the age of 18. 22-year-old me was dating 18-year-old Seungmin. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue, but I started thinking about the future. What about when I turned 30, and Seungmin still hadn’t aged a day into adulthood? When we’d had a child together, and he looked more like the kid’s sibling than the father?

‘Anyway… what’s wrong? Why’d you need my help?’ he asks, and I sigh deeply. ‘Basically… I was at the club with Chaeryeong the other night, and we were in the toilets, and I was putting on lipgloss. This girl next to me asked if she could use it, and I was like, ‘um, no’, because who shares lipgloss with a stranger in a club, and she got angry and started saying, ‘you think you’re so gorgeous, and you think you’re better than me,’ and basically went off on one, so I may have retaliated slightly, and turns out she was a witch, so she put a curse on me,’ I explain all in one breath, and Seungmin raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You wanna tell me what really happened?’ he asks, and I blink once, twice, before sighing.

‘She asked to borrow my lipgloss and I was kinda drunk and I may have been a bit of a bitch and told her she needed more than just lipgloss to fix her face,’ I admit ashamedly, and Seungmin’s mouth falls open. ‘y/n!’ ‘What? It’s not like I lied! Her makeup was terrible! It was the completely wrong colour for her skin, she hadn’t blended it, her eyelashes weren’t the right shape for her eyes and she hadn’t glued them on properly so they were hanging off, her eyeshadow clashed with her lipstick, it was all terrible! I wasn’t about to let her put my expensive ass lipgloss on top of that god-awful lipstick. So I tried to give her some girl-to-girl advice, but I was drunk so it came out the wrong way!’ I say defensively, Seungmin shaking his head at me in disbelief.

‘Did you tell her all those things? ‘…I may have, yes.’ ‘You’re such a bitch, y/n. Maybe she did her makeup like that on purpose. Maybe no one’s ever taught her how to do makeup. You didn’t need to come for her like that. God,’ he says, voice laced with shock and disappointment, and I feel like a little kid being told off by their teacher. ‘I apologised when she started crying b-’ ‘You made her cry?’ he demands, voice going up a few octaves, and I pout. ‘I didn’t mean to! I apologised, but she was already angry, so she cursed me,’ I say in a small voice, Seungmin’s unimpressed gaze making me feel quite ashamed. Not that I didn’t already! He’s just making me feel worse.

‘What was the curse she put on you?’ he asks, and I let out an angry noise just at the thought of it. ‘That I’ll age to look quadruple how old I actually am,’ I spit, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘I’ve never heard that before. She probably just said it to scare you.’ ‘That’s what I thought. Until this happened,’ I say, turning my head away and lifting up my hair to reveal the base of my neck. I hear him suck in a breath, knowing he’s seeing the lock of hair at the back of my head, the one that’s now a powdery grey colour, wiry and ratty amongst the perfectly healthy hair that I put so much effort into looking after.

‘My body’s getting achy and I’ve got all these pains everywhere that I didn’t have a couple days ago. So I think the curse is real, Seungmin,’ I say seriously, and he nods, looking thoughtful. ‘So you want me to lift the curse off you?’ he asks, and I nod, giving him my best wide innocent eyes. ‘Can you do it?’ I ask, and he’s silent for a moment before replying, ‘I can. But I won’t.’ My heart drops, my mouth falling open slightly, and I blink at him a few times before I say, ‘what do you mean, you won’t?’ ‘I won’t lift the curse off you. You were rude and bitchy to that girl and not once have you shown me that you feel guilty about it. Instead, you’re sat here defending yourself and complaining about her like a little brat, so I think this should teach you a lesson,’ he says simply, and I stare at him in shock.

‘You’re joking, right? I demand, anger flaring through me at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. ‘No, I’m being serious, actually. You judged that girl based on how she looked – I’m sure if she was conventionally pretty, with flawless makeup, you’d have lent her your lipgloss without a second thought, and probably becomes best friends with her too. That girl might have been the nicest person you’d ever come across. But you wouldn’t know, because you were mean to her. Now, the shoe will be on the other foot. You’ve coasted through life getting what you want because you’re pretty, and now that you’ll look all wrinkly and saggy, we’ll see how you like being on the receiving end of people’s judgement,’ he says cheerfully, my mouth falling open more and more as he speaks.

‘Seungmin, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really am, and I do regret it. But surely that slightly bitchy behaviour doesn’t warrant this. Me looking like an ancient pensioner! I’ve learnt my lesson. Please don’t do this,’ I say desperately, starting to actually worry that he might not lift the curse. ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you have learnt your lesson, y/n. It’s not like I can take your word for it, because if I didn’t know you any better, you’d have gotten away with telling me a twisted version of what really happened. You’re a compulsive liar. So, I apologise, but I won’t be lifting the curse,’ he says seriously, but his lips are quirked up at the corners, making me realise he’s actually amused by this situation.

‘Seungmin, this isn’t a joke! You cannot let this happen to me!’ I shriek, panic making my hands shake, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Shouting won’t make me change my mind,’ he says dryly, the two of us staring at each other, very different emotions in our gazes, and he sighs a few moments later. ‘How about this? When you show a true act of selflessness and generosity without any kind of judgement, the curse will break,’ he says, taking my hands into his as he speaks, and when I register his words, I snatch them away angrily. ‘No! I don’t want any stupid conditions or things I have to do! Just take the fucking curse off me, Min!’ I scream, fury making my voice waver, and he just laughs.

‘You took your hands away too late – it’s done now. This will teach you your lesson,’ he grins, and I want to literally throw myself across the table and teach him a lesson instead. ‘Seungie, please,’ I pout, stooping lower than I ever thought I would, and he hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No, y/n. It’s done. Try not to judge someone based on their appearance for once, and you’ll be rewarded for it,’ he says mildly, and I just stare at him in disbelief for a few moments. ‘Are you doing this because I dumped you?’ I ask, unable to believe he simply wants to teach me a lesson, and he bursts out into laughter. ‘Flattering yourself a little there, aren’t you? No, y/n, that’s not why. Stop trying to find reasons to play this down. There are no other factors for this punishment other than your nasty behaviour.’ ‘Punishment? What are you, my dad? You don’t get to punish me!’ ‘I know you better than your dad does, better than anyone else does, and I know you’re better than this. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ I exclaim, silence falling between us.

‘If that’s all, y/n-’ ‘If that’s all? If that’s all?’ ‘Yes. If that’s all, you can leave. I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break, and then I’ve got another appointment. So you can go,’ he says with a small grin, effectively dismissing me like a parent sends a child to their room, and I let out an angry huff. ‘I can’t believe this. Some shitty doctor you are,’ I say childishly, bitter about this lesson he’s trying to teach me, and he just rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘My thousands of satisfied patients say otherwise. But that’s okay – you can’t please everyone. Especially not judgemental little brats,’ he grins, and I let out a shrill noise of rage, pushing myself up off the seat and grabbing my bag from the armchair.

‘And I’ll take this!’ I exclaim pettily, snatching the half-empty flask from the table, and he just laughs at me, making me feel even more murderous than I already do. ‘You’ll thank me eventually, y/n,’ he says gently, and I let out another angry huff. ‘I doubt it,’ I hiss, stomping towards the door and, just as I think I can’t be any more immature, I kick the shelves nearest me, watching as it wobbles and falls over to the side before stopping mid-air. ‘Really? How childish of you,’ Seungmin says amusedly, one hand outstretched in the direction of the shelves, his magic holding them up, and I let out an angry scream, sounding a lot like Regina George when she was putting herself in the Burn Book to get back at Cady. Is this really what I’ve become? How embarrassing,

‘I’ll see you at Jackson’s for Halloween,’ he calls out behind me as I reach the door. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ I hiss venomously, ‘my brittle bones may have already given way by then. God knows if I’ll even be able to walk, thanks to you!’ ‘No, y/n, you only have yourself to blame for this,’ he says, as he shakes his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh, cut out all the philosophical teaching-moment shit,’ I spit, wrenching open the door. As I do so, one of my nails flies off my finger. Not just the fake nail my technician put on this morning. The entire nail.

I hold back a gag, hearing Seungmin stifling laughter behind me, and I look away from it, feeling quite sick. My eyes meet Seungmin’s, and he must take pity on me when he sees how they’re full of angry and helpless tears, and he waves a hand in my direction. When I look down at my hand again, the nail is back in place, good as new. I look back at him in surprise, and he looks a little embarrassed. ‘No more of your nails will fall out. But I’m not fixing anything else for you. Now go, before your stupid pretty face convinces me to lift the curse,’ he says, and I feel a little hope spark in my chest. ‘Seungie, p-’ ‘Nuh-uh. Get outta here. Now.’ ‘But S-‘ ‘y/n, I will call security!’

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keziha-writes · 4 years

Text

Coffee College And Skeleton Roomies 4/31

Chapter 1

Chapter-list

Chapter 4: The Roomies

Your first day of classes is over but that didn't mean your day was over in fact the most daunting part of the day was right in front of you, as you stand in front of the dorm building you'll be calling home for the next few years, mustering up the courage to walk in and meet your new dorm mates.

You take a deep breath before stepping through the door, dragging your suitcase along with you.

This dorm just so happened to be the cheapest one available mostly for the simple reason that it didn't include any furniture in the rooms, other than a little built in wardrobe, so your little old bed and bean bag you'd brought with you were waiting in your car with a box of your things, which of course you'd take up with you once you knew exactly which room was yours.

You pass a group of friends hanging around the entrance, pick up your keys at the desk and head into the elevator.

Floor four dorm one… that was where you were gonna be living.

You step out of the elevator on floor four. The floor was split into two sections, one door each side of you… the door you needed was on the right so you step up to it… if you were remembering the layout plan right then behind this door was the living room shared between you and your eight dorm mates… although you have a key you should probably knock this time right?

So you give the door a little knock…

You hold your breath as you wait a moment, before the door opens. Behind the door… is yet another skeleton, how? You wonder, is there just that many of them here or what? This one looked a bit like Blue, a little taller maybe and not quite as excited looking, in fact he looks tired, maybe they were related just like how Rus and Stretch are kinda cousins.

“Hey...” He says, his voice is deeper than Blue’s. “You the new girl?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me...” you reply sheepishly, “uh… is this my new dorm?”

“Yeah come on in, the names Sans, Sans the skeleton.”

“Hey vanilia who's there!?” You hear a gruff even deeper voice yell.

“Just the new roomie.” Sans replies back.

You step in and Sans leads you around the corner into the living area, oh and kitchen this was more open plan then you thought. There was a corner sofa with its back facing the door with more skeletons sat on it...

“Ya didn't tell us we got a new roomie! What's with that! What's he-” The one yelling turns around looking over the back of the sofa, “Oh...” he lets out a little chuckle. “Hey there Sweetheart.”

He gives you a little wave as his bright Red eyelights look you up and down... you notice he’s round like Sans and Blue but has pointed teeth like Rus and a gold tooth and a crack in his socket too, just his is more jagged.

“The name’s Red, nice to meet ya doll.”

The other skulls look up from laptops, books and phones to see you, out of the four you see three familiar faces who simultaneously chime out your name in a confused and surprised tone. What were they doing here? Were they gonna be your new dorm mates?

The taller one you didn't recognise came over quickly and shook your hand.

“I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! NICE TO MEET YOU! I’M SURE WE WILL ALL BE GREAT FRIENDS, NYEH HEH HEH HEH.”

“I hope so.” You chime back, Papyrus is very friendly and chipper.

“WHAT’S ALL THE RUCKUS ABOUT!!?”

You jump as a tall skeleton, taller than the rest barges in from the door you think goes to some of the bedrooms. He looks sharp and mean, dressed in red and black.

“MY QUESTION EXACTLY! WHY ARE YOU ALL SO LOUD!!?” A smaller but just as pointy and mean looking skeleton, in purple pushes past the other.

“I’M TRYING TO WORK!!” They both yell at the same time before they turn to scowl at each other.

“Meet our new roomie.” Sans says as he pushes you towards them a little.

“Um.. hi I’m-”

“WHAT!? A NEW PERSON STAYING HERE? WHY WASN'T I INCLUDED IN THIS DECISION!?” The smaller one asks in a raised voice.

“I WON'T ALLOW IT!!!” The taller exclaimes.

“Guess I forgot.” Sans shrugs.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS!!”

“No point protestin’ boss what's done ‘s done.” Red chips in sending you a wink.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS EITHER!” the smaller one folds his arms under his purple bandana.

You look between them in confusion and concern as they all argue about the fact Sans didn’t even tell anyone else you were coming… you didn’t like this, you don’t want people arguing and fighting because of you, not again…

“Just introduce yourselves.”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

“What you scared of a kid?”

“YOU’D BE SURPRISED WHAT A HUMAN CHILD CAN DO!”

“Heh you're scared of them.”

“I AM NOT!!!”

Just as you think you can’t take much more shouting, Rus is at your side, he puts his hand on your shoulder, when did he even get there?

“Hey…!” he said barely above the others but they all go quiet mostly out of shock by the looks on their skulls.

“So....” Rus laughs slightly nervously. “You all gotta know she’s cool, ain't a threat and is nice.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?” The one in purple asks.

“She’s a classmate.”

“SHE BETTER JUST BE A CLASSMATE.”

“She is, I met her today jus like you.”

“THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW SHE’S SO GREAT?”

“Cuz i gave her a chance, could you all just do the same?”

“FINE, BUT JUST SO YOU KNOW HUMAN, ONE WRONG STEP, IF I FEEL LIKE YOU’RE A THREAT TO ME OR MY BROTHER.” He moves his finger across his neck, and you get the point.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.

“GOOD! WELL THEN LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF I AM THE MALEVOLENT BLACK. DON’T FORGET IT!! MWAH HAHA! NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME I HAVE LOTS OF WORK TO DO!!” At that he turns away and leaves...

“Come on boss your turn don't let Black show you up.” Red adds.

“FINE!” He huffs. “HUMAN! IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME ALREADY THEN YOU’VE PROBABLY BEEN LIVING UNDER A ROCK. BUT SINCE THAT IS A SAD WAY TO LIVE I’LL SHOW YOU PITY, FOR I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE EDGE! FEARED AND ADMIRED BY ALL. NYAH HAHAHA!!”

This is where you're supposed to introduce yourself right?

“Oh um… it’s nice to meet you? My name is-”

“I REALLY DON’T CARE AND I ALSO HAVE MUCH WORK TO DO, YOU’VE TAKEN FAR TOO MUCH OF MY PRECIOUS TIME.” He turns away flicking his cape like scarf behind him as he leaves…

The room goes quiet for a second.

“Before you ask… yeah it’s usually like this…” Sans sighs…

“But ya get used to it.” Red adds.

Blue bounds over. “WELL THEN HOW ABOUT WE GET YOU SETTLED IN?”

“Your room is this one.” Sans turns you around and points you in the direction of Your room… “You got your key right?”

“Yeah here.”

You open the door to an empty room, it's a cozy size, the far wall has a good sized window and the wardrobe, the left of the door is your bathroom.

“IT'S A BIT DUSTY IN HERE ISN'T IT? FEAR NOT, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL HAVE IT SPARKLING FOR YOU IN NO TIME!” He goes and fetches a bunch of cleaning gear.

“YOU HAVE MORE THINGS RIGHT? WE WILL HELP YOU BRING THEM UP.” Blue chimes volunteering the rest of them.

“Are you sure? I don’t have much to bring up.” You really don't want to be a burden for these guys.

“IT NO PROBLEM IS IT?” Blue asks Stretch, giving him a nudge.

“Yeah, no problem, we can help.” Stretch shrugs.

“You guys are so sweet.”

“JUST LEAD THE WAY!”

So you head out, Blue drags the others out and you, Stretch, Rus, Sans and Red have an ever so slightly awkward trip down the elevator while Blue races down the stairs. He greets you when the elevator opens… did he just race down four flights of stairs? Faster than the elevator, without breaking a sweat?!?! Ok…

You lead them over to your car while you hold idle chatter.

They don’t make any comment about the cheap little car you have but when you open the trunk…

“You weren't joking, you’ve not got much at all, have you?” Rus comments.

“IS THIS IT?” Blue queres.

“Yeah this is it...”

“Quit complainin’ will ya? Makes our job easier.” Red huffs as he… somehow makes the headboard of your bed glow blue? and float? He floats it out of the car.

“How?” you mumble...

“RED STOP SHOWING OFF.” Blue rolls his eyelights as he makes the rest of the bed frame float, yeets your bean bag chair at Stretch and picks up the rolled mattress in one hand.

“Yer the one whos showin’ off li’l Blue.”

“How are you guys doing that?” You ask.

“It’s magic, kid.” Sans tells you as he uses said magic to grab your box of things.

You’ve never seen monster magic at work before, “It’s so cool.”

There is nothing left in the car for you to carry…

“Um.. guys can I carry anything?”

“WE HAVE THIS!”

“Maybe you could just open the doors for us hun?”

“I can do that.”

The boys take your things to your room, Blue gets Red and Sans to start building your bed as he helps Papyrus with cleaning.

You feel a little out of place… and a little bad that they are doing so much for you who is practically a stranger.

“Hey hun?” Stretch calls. “We're getting pizza, you want any?”

“Oh… um” you think about it… do you have enough money for that? the scholarship you were oh so lucky to grab only just managed to cover most of this… and you’ve not got much to live on… you already treated yourself to lunch... you should probably save up, you could just eat that bread you brought.

“We’ll all pitch in and pay for yours.” Sans says from pretty much under your bed as he builds it.

“No I wouldn't want you to do that for me.”

“It won’t be much if all of us split” Sans says.

“I can tell ya my bro won’t be too happy if he notices.” Red chuckles. “And I usually only pay for food if it's a date. But I’ll live.”

“Way to inspire confidence.” Stretch says.

“Are you guys sure?”

“We’ll take care of you darlin’, we wanna make you feel at home.”

“YES! I AGREE, LET US TREAT YOU.”

What’s with these guys? They are way too helpful and super nice, usually you’d find it a little suspicious but for some reason you feel a sort of connection to these skeletons even the scary, angry two. Seems like moving here was a good choice.

#fanfic #coffee college and skeleton roomies #sans #papyrus #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #college au #flufftober #fluff

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darkmindsotome · 4 years

Text

Losing The Lot

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 4,043

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #7: Strip poker

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

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Losing The Lot

My laptop beeped ending the latest transmission from the EAC. I closed the device and slid it under the seat of the car that was currently winding its way through crosstown traffic in the rain to take me back to my apartment after successfully completing my latest mission.

I closed my eyes and rolled my neck, sinking into the cushioning of the backseat. I didn’t typically find all missions exhausting but being a spy was both physically and mentally demanding. I watched the streetlights blur against the rain on the window, happy to finally be able to relax.

My mind wandered wishing for nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and then curl up on the sofa with a big tub of Lady Borden ice cream and binge on Mission Impossible films. My phone vibrated next to me and when I saw the caller my heart jumped.

“Welcome back.” A voice I had missed hearing for the last few days spoke before I had even placed the phone near my ear properly.

“I won’t ask how you found out I was back in the country again.” I smiled. Despite how exasperated my words sounded I was seriously happy to hear the voice of the man I loved.

“Can’t a guy take an interest in his Girlfriend these days? Did you get me a souvenir?” Kazuomi sounded like an excited child. His energy and upbeat attitude brushed away the tension in my body.

“You wanted a souvenir? Kazuomi I was on a mission, not a vacation.” I playfully chastised him knowing full well any kind of reprimand from me would go unanswered as it usually did.

“So you didn’t get me anything at all?” I could practically see his pouting face even over the phone.

My wonderfully mischievous guy who worked harder than he showed to anyone. A man who was at the top of official lists as one of the world’s most wanted bad guys. Who was labelled a playboy the world over and covered in multiple gossip columns constantly never showed this kind of vulnerability to others. He was far from pristine white, his actions were always a little shady but I trusted him. I felt a warmth bloom in my chest as I thought about it.

“I didn’t say that.” I laughed our conversation was coming to an end as my car had stopped at the curb of my apartment and I knew I would lose reception for a few minutes as I entered the building. “I’ll bring it over to your place tomorrow.”

The door to the car opened and instead of seeing the driver, I saw my boyfriend.

“Why not just give it to me now?” He had a look on his face like he had just pulled off the biggest prank of his life and the smile could have made my knees buckle had I not already been sitting.

He was outlined by the lights behind him that were casting a shimmering aura over him. As if he needed to be painted in a sexier manner. This guy was a walking advert for sexual desires and just oozed appeal. A natural charmer I really would not be surprised to discover his friend's claims that celestial beings had fallen under his spell.

“What are you doing here!?”

“Is that any way to greet your man? Although I have to say you look good even when pulling that face.” He winked at me his brown hair was caught at the moment between lightly damp and becoming unstyled by the rain. A few droplets of water fell from the tips of it and ran down his neck finding the open collar of his shirt and vanishing beneath it.

“You!” I gave him a light slap as I got out of the car pretending not to notice that I was jealous of a raindrop. My eyes fell on a familiar vehicle and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you showed up in the limo.”

“I never go anywhere without it.” He shrugged as if this sort of thing was normal for everyone. If there was one thing he enjoyed it was opulence and dammit if he hadn’t provided a good show of it to the point where very little was able to still shock me. He bent over and grabbed my suitcase from inside the car, tapping the roof after he shut the door sending it on its way. “Come on let’s get inside before we both drown.”

He grabbed my wrist with his free hand pulling me towards my building. The warmth of his grip where his skin touched mine had me willingly follow him in a trance. I really was a hopeless case.

The door unlocked with a click that was lost against the sound of the downpour of water. We both walked in and Kazuomi put the suitcase he had pilfered from the car next to the kitchen counter. I closed the front door behind us only to find myself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms and my damp bare neck claimed in a rush of fiery kisses.

“Mhm, Kazuomi…” I purred as he chased away the chill on my body from the rain with his lips. I loved his kisses, I’d never met someone who kissed like him before.

“No one says my name like you do.” He returned my purr with one. Even as his lips travelled over my skin his hands began pawing and kneading at me through my damp clothes. The cold fabric clung to the flushed flesh under it. “How long are you planning on keeping me waiting?”

“Waiting? On what?” While is still had enough of my senses to talk back I did. This was our little game that fuelled the fire in both of us. An endless game of cat and mouse where neither of us was willing to simply give in.

“My souvenir of course.” He buried his head in the crook of my neck before drawing back to capture my ear lobe lightly between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. “But if you don’t have one… I guess I could claim you instead.”

Before he could latch on to me and make it impossible for me to move I spun around in his arms and placed a finger on his lips enjoying his reaction as he wondered what I was doing.

“As tempting as that is I do have something for you.” I made sure to rub myself just a little against him as I pushed him back. There was no way I was going to make getting things all his way that easy for him, I never did.

“Oh?”

I moved past him and clipped open the suitcase searching for the gift I’d found for him. A rectangular box slipped out from under some of my clothes and I picked it up suddenly feeling a little nervous about giving the third richest guy in the world something so pathetic.

“I didn’t see anything that really got my attention but I found these and thought you would probably like them.”

“A deck of cards?” Kazuomi didn’t display any of the elitist reactions I imagined. Instead, he looks seriously amused and happy with his souvenir.

“Their special cards, here see?” I keep forgetting this guy can be so incredibly down to earth it naturally makes me smile as I pluck the box from his hands and crack it open to remove one of the cards.

After rubbing the image on the card the figure that was once dressed in fanciful clothes and opulent robes revealed more and more skin. The idea was the longer you played with the cards the more of their secrets the heat from your hands uncovered. I thought that concept alone was so incredibly Kazuomi I just had to get him a deck.

“Impressive.” His eyes light up at the new discovery reminding me of a kid watching a magic show for the first time.

“You like them?”

“My beloved brought me a gift of course I love them.” He held the cards in his hand and dragged me back to him with the other. It was such a smooth and fast movement I could feel my insides jolting at it. He bent down to whisper in my ear. “You really are a naughty girl though. To think you would get me a gift like this. I hope you’re ready for a game.”

His voice was intoxicating, neither of us moved our eyes remaining locked as the heat between us ignited our competitive natures.

The clean apartment had become a mess in a matter of a couple of hours. Items of clothing were dotted around like breadcrumbs trailing a path to us as we sat either end of my white corner sofa playing Texas hold ‘em.

After scrambling around in drawers and cupboards looking for something we could use in place of betting chips we found a bag of candy and split it 50/50.

Several hands later, most of the clothes on the floor were mine. I had played several card games in the past and I was confident enough to say I could put up a good fight. It was, however, just my luck that my charming boyfriend also had a reputation for never losing. This fun, kinky game was rapidly becoming my waterloo.

I was now left with only my shirt and underwear while Kazuomi was only missing his jacket and waistcoat. His brown eyes were paying way more attention to me than his own cards. It was really distracting and I kept fidgeting in place, willing my mind to focus on the cards and not the impossibly attractive man in front of me. How was he even winning when he wasn’t even paying attention anyway?

“You look like you have something to say.” He was still smirking after watching me lose my skirt. I made sure to stay out of his reach as I disrobed but that didn’t stop him from making some suggestively sexy gestures of his own like licking his lips and slicking back his damp hair from his face. I don’t know if it was the time we spent apart or what but he looked so different right now, my heart started to pound so hard I could feel it.

“What makes you think that?” I shrugged trying to hide how hot I was getting while I shuffled the cards.

“You are giving me the most adorable glare. I just love it when your little miss perfect mask slips off.” He had crawled towards me over the sofa on all fours like a prowling lion. It would only have taken a small pounce to have me trapped under him, an idea I can’t say I minded at all but the game was not over yet.

“Just deal the cards.” I shoved the shuffled deck towards him and watched as he calmly rolled back into his original seat accepting them.

“As my Lady commands.”

Competitive spirit reignited we returned to our little game. It is probably about this time that a normal person may consider the fact that this was not going well and forfeit. As a certain hardened gambler playing me so often remarked though part of the fun in a game was never knowing how things were going to turn out until the very end.

I think at this point from the heated stares and the way in which we were responding to each other’s every move there was no question where this was going to end. It only remained to be seen who was going to come out on top?

After checking my hand, I was a little relieved to see some good cards, King and ten of diamonds. The smiling face of the girl dressed in the increasingly dishevelled robes of the King looked back at me. I know I got these cards for Kazuomi as a kind of novelty gift but honestly even I’m a little turned on looking at them.

Kazuomi didn’t exactly have the unreadable poker face I had seen at Masquerade when playing cards there with other people. It was not deadpan but it may as well have been for all the hints it was giving away.

He was smiling serenely. Every now and then he brought his hand out to take a drink from the table, pulling it back, brushing lightly over his own thigh drawing my attention to the growing bulge in his lap. It was subtle enough that he could still claim he had no idea what I was referring to should I bring it up.

I was more than familiar with his little teases at this point and refused to acknowledge it, my eyes returning to the game as the next cards flopped onto the cushion between us after we each threw in some ‘chips’ to bet. I was looking at more diamonds Queen, eight and four.

This should be easy I was holding a great hand so far. I nearly smiled imagining that I might get him to remove some more clothes. To hide it I instead licked my lips and rubbed my thighs together adjusting myself in the seat. When did I get this wet? Embarrassment suddenly hit me and I could feel the heat rising from my core to colour my face.

“Call.” He announced his move and I could hear a little strain in his voice.

Glancing over I could see the same anguish of forced restraint that I was feeling. I nodded not trusting my voice currently to not blow my cover and reached out to turn the fourth card. Three, another diamond. I could feel my body unconsciously relax a little after seeing the new card.

There was only really one card that could beat me now, I end up putting half my chips in the pot and he calls again. I look over at him, his wolfish grin had grown and dammit if he didn’t look like the very definition of lust in a dictionary.

Eight of clubs fell on the river. This changed things a little there could be the chance he may have three of a kind here I decided to play it a little safe and just make a small bet.

“Call.”

Again? Seriously? I ran some very quick calculations that honestly made very little difference to the commitment I had as to how to play my hand.

“King high flush” I flipped over my cards smiling as I called it out. I felt the rush of anticipation coursing through me. There was a very low chance I was going to lose, 2% in fact.

“Nice! Very good hand.” Kazuomi nodded still smiling.

“Thank you.”

“Not quite good enough though. Ace high… flush.” As he flipped his cards over I couldn’t take my eyes off them and the defeat it dealt me.

“Wha-? No way how many times is that you’ve won?” I pouted far from ready to give up on the game between us it was like a new fire had been lit. I had been so close that time.

“I haven’t been counting. I would say I’ve at least won enough to enjoy a good show.” His eyes had turned predatory as he provoked me.

“Well, I suppose I should continue the performance then.” I raised myself to my knees, remaining on the sofa.

Walking my fingers up the front of my shirt and slowly unbuttoned it. My eyes never left him as I let the fabric glide downwards before dropping to the floor. I felt a new rush of excitement that had nothing to do with a card game. His predatory look and that smile on his face had morphed for a fraction of a second revealing how he was also struggling to keep himself in check.

“I would be more than happy to call it here if you don’t want to continue.” I decided to push a few buttons. It isn’t very often I got to see him this close to the edge after all.

“Oh? Are you admitting defeat?” The crack in his mask sealed shut behind a reinforced veneer.

“Never, I’m in this till the end.” My firm denial brought back his smile.

“Then it’s a race to the finish. I’ll warn you now I won’t hold back.” Kazuomi’s voice issued his warning like a devilish promise sending a shiver straight up my spine. His curved lips had me thinking of his kisses and how badly I craved for them to be covering me right now.

“That makes two of us.”

The next game started and it felt like a slow torture. I had Ace of clubs and a King of diamonds, another decent hand. Luck seemed to be at least interested in keeping these matches between us close.

I bet and he calls. Ace and three of clubs falls on the flop with the Ace of diamonds. It looks like I could be in with more than a slim chance here. I tap my hand to signal a check. He bets and I raise then he does something he hasn’t done all night.

“All in” His bet throws me for a loop.

I check my cards again quickly wondering what could actually beat them. Pair of aces or deuces… that made two hands that could trump mine. There was still a higher chance of me being ahead right now.

Looking up at my boyfriend who was still as unreadable as before, I found him enjoying watching me waver on this last game. If he loses after calling 'all in' that was it. I would not only have won the hand but he would have to strip completely. My crushing defeat could become a momentous victory in the blink of an eye. 95% chance.

“Call.”

After making my bet the cards move again, the five of diamonds appears on the turn. Victory was so close I could almost feel it.

“Check”

“Check” Our call was in unison and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

Everything was dependant on this last card. The chances of failure were slim and then it hit. Queen of clubs fell on the river. My hands tremble a little as I turn over my hand.

“Ace King, that gives me three of a kind.”

“Jack five,” Kazuomi's words sounded muffled in my ears as I looked at the cards he held. My eyes blew wide at the hand he hit back with. Of all the low blows to be given tonight. “Flush, I win.”

“Jack and Five of clubs? No way!”

“It was just a lucky hand.” He chuckled seeing how animated I was.

“That is more than lucky that’s unbelievable! Why the hell did you play that?” I wasn’t trying to be a sore loser. I just couldn’t believe he kept that hand going through the game until he got lucky on the river.

“I’m a great believer in being in it to win it and this was the last game of the night. I figured if I was going to lose I should make it memorable.” He shrugged the grin on his face turned into a shit-eating smirk. The look was unashamedly seductive it should have been illegal.

“Loose? You didn’t though you totally destroyed me!” I huffed scooping up the cards and candy from the sofa and putting them on the coffee table with an artless thud.

“I’ll happily hear your complaints in bed. Right now I’m claiming my winnings.” He took my petulant act of clearing the sofa as an invitation not waiting for my reply.

In his impatience he threw me back on the sofa, climbing on top of me silencing any protests I might have by kissing me ferociously. Our bodies became a tangle of limbs, stroking and grabbing at each other. This was more our MO. Passionate, wild neither of us willing to let the other win even now. The spy and the ex target, Kazuomi and me.

It was a no-holds-barred battle between equals. I found myself wondering if we would ever reach a point where we weren’t playing these games. If he would become the focus of one of my missions in the future placing us right back at the starting point. So many ideas and concerns, worries for another time. Right now I was more than happy to just focus on the man I loved.

My hands travelled over him pulling his shirt free of his trousers and snaking up under the fabric. His taut muscles flexed under my touch as he moved unperturbed locating my weak spots. He trailed kisses from my ear to my collarbone and tried to go lower only to be yanked back up as my hand gripped tight on his belt preventing him.

“Have I ever told you that I love how unpredictable you are?” He kissed me hard, his tongue twisting against mine in a way that had me breathless as it brushed over the roof of my mouth.

“Have I ever told you that you talk too much?” I somehow managed to backtalk him. His hands traced the edge of my bra, releasing the clip at the same time as I unbuckled his belt. My hand slipped down grasping his hardened length he had been flaunting throughout the game. His hips bucked pushing it into my palm as he groaned. “Mmm god, I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed me quickly before pulling back long enough to pull his shirt over his head, the buttons were apparently too much effort to bother with. “You have some time off now right?”

“Mhm, until the next mission at least.” I nodded and pumped my hand a little. The lust in his eyes had turned them nearly black, I bit my lip.

“So there’s not a problem in me keeping you up all night then.” His hand plunged into the thin fabric of my panties. The pad of his thumb brushed over the bundle of nerves as he slipped his fingers deeper inside.

“Ah! …. Kazuomi” I cried out my body writhing under his touch. I wanted more, I wanted him.

“Yeah?”

“I L-” My words, the ones I never said outside of the bedroom were cut off with a growl from him.

His teeth sunk into the flesh of my bottom lip leaving it feeling deliciously sore. I felt his hands move to shove the waistbands of his boxers and trousers free of his hips. The removal of the restricting clothing had his arousal standing to attention pressing into my inner thigh. My body clenched around the fingers buried inside me.

“How much more were you planning on making me fall for you? Careful with all that cute stuff it kills me.” Kazuomi removed his fingers, my body naturally chased his desperation taking over wanting to reclaim the friction it had lost.

The sound of fabric tearing should have concerned me but I was past the point of caring about a destroyed set of lingerie. He pushed into me slowly I didn’t think I could have gotten any hotter but as I was forced to stretch around him I felt like I was being filled with liquid magma. Sweat was prickling on my skin and I willed my eyes to remain open. I wanted to see him.

Our heavy breathing, pants, moans and cries rang out. Each of us taking turns to tantalise and tease while our bodies rocked harder and harder together. My vision sparked white as an orgasm claimed me. Kazuomi helped me ride it out against him before joining me in my euphoria and falling flat on top of me. Our bodies were still joined together, muscles twitching and the sweat running freely combining our scents in the air. My heart was hammering in my chest, my pulse throbbing in my head in the aftermath of the wave that had washed over me.

I reached up to run my fingers through my man’s soft brown hair knowing him to be a man of his word and looking forward to the rest of our night as we pushed each other to the brink, jumping together into paradise. I was finally home.

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#summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge

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darkwritingsnshit · 4 years

Text

Oh Honey

Warnings: This is a dark fic, please do not read if you are under 18, or are uncomfortable with noncon, smut, dark characters, dark intentions.

“Oh, sorry honey,” His voice was just as sweet, blue eyes sparkling Steve had bumped into you turning around in a grocery store one day. “You alright?” He asked, checking the ground in case he had knocked any of your belongings loose.

“It’s no problem, sorry I didn’t see you!” It was the briefest of first meetings, begun and over in a matter of seconds.

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“Honey?”

You had been sitting in a coffeeshop awaiting your order when a large blonde man sat opposite you. He was holding your drink along with some cream, a spoon and a jar of honey.

“No, thank you. Can I help you with something? You look familiar.” You gave him a quizzical look and took your coffee, stirring cream in as he watched you.

“I bumped into you the other day I think,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “I thought I recognized you so I thought I would bring you your coffee. I’m Steve.” The man held out his hand across the small table with a smile.

The two of you talked for an hour before you had to run, but you had enjoyed your time with the man who was no longer a stranger.

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“Honey, I had the best night with you.” Steve was tucking your hair behind your ear and pulling you close for a kiss.

When your lips met it was magical, he was soft and sweet and made you want more. Though you wanted to, you didn’t invite him upstairs just yet. That would come soon.

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“Honey, do you need anything while I’m out?” You were laying across the couch without clothes on, under a blanket. It was a Sunday and you two had decided to… stay in for the day. Steve had volunteered to go out for a midday break from the vigorous cardio the two of you had been busy with the entire morning.

“Mmmm, maybe something to eat?” It had been a long morning and you were starving.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Steve gave you a kiss on the head before dashing out for sustenance.

The two of you didn’t even eat before you were at it again, in the kitchen this time.

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“I don’t understand why you’re being so hostile, honey.” Steve glared at you from the couch.

“Because I don’t want you going through all my things!”

You had found him going through your computer that had a password and fingerprint scanner. Steve was clearly not willing to respect your privacy and you wouldn’t stand for it.

“You wouldn’t be upset if you had nothing to hide.” Steve raised his eyebrows at you and crossed his arms.

“I have nothing to hide Steve, I just don’t want you going through all my personal things! It’s about respecting my space.” You countered. To your surprise, Steve put his hands up and shook his head.

“Fine, I get it, you want your space. I won’t use your computer again. As I’ve told you, my computer broke, and I was trying to find somewhere to repair it. But I won’t use your laptop again.” Steve shrugged, stood and walked into the bedroom, signaling the end of the conversation.

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“Trust me honey, you don’t know what’s best for you.” He was blocking the exit, refusing to let you leave.

“Steve, what are you talking about, we’re going for drinks.” Steve had snatched the keys from your hand just seconds ago and you were pissed.

“It’s dark out, it’s cold, it’s not safe for you to go without me.” His brow was furrowed, feet planted.

“I’m going to be with my friends, you’re being crazy Steve!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. Dressed up and ready for a night out, you were annoyed with your boyfriend’s protectiveness.

A fire seemed to light up Steve’s eyes as he marched towards you. He looked you up and down, unamused when you stood tall and didn’t back away. Wordlessly, Steve placed his hand around your jaw and throat, holding your head in place he leaned down and spoke hauntingly in your ear.

“Don’t you ever call me crazy again, sweetheart. You understand me?” For the first time you felt afraid that Steve might actually hurt you.

You nodded as much as he let you, then soon as he had put his hands on you, he let go and stepped back. Shaking, you were rooted to where he had released you. Steve went into the bedroom, came out with shoes and jacket glanced at where you still stood.

“I thought you wanted to go out, honey. Get your coat, I’ll drive.” Steve stood by the door with a smile and a cocked head, stood waiting until you went and got a jacket then followed him to the car for your night out.

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“Honey, I told you it was dangerous.” Steve fussed over you, running antiseptic over the gash in your arm, placing the skin back together with steri strips.

Steve had finally relented one evening, so you and one of your girlfriends went to see a movie and eat dinner downtown. It had been so long since you had really been out, excited to walk the streets of the city and use the subways.

As it turned out, you never made it to the movie theater after the nice dinner the two of you shared. Leaving the restaurant, the two of you decided to walk to the theater instead of taking the bus, it was only a few blocks and it was hardly dark out. Chattering as you walked, the two of you were surprised when a ragged looking man jumped out from behind a dumpster brandishing a knife.

“Fuck!” Your friend screeched, latching onto you as the man approached.

“Give me your money and I’ll leave you be.” The man grunted, advancing on you.

“Everything is plastic, we don’t carry cash!” Your friend piped up from behind you.

“Lying bitches!” The man lunged forward with the knife, missing your friend but taking a nice slice out of your arm.

“Fuck!!” Your friend screamed again. In the confusion, she had managed to run around and kick the man in the head. She took your good arm and dragged you, sprinting down the sidewalk until you were under the theater sign.

The pair of you were covered in blood and you were still bleeding. A crowd had started to gather, and your friend was yelling various things to those assembled. In a few seconds a police officer had come to your shoulder, concerned with your bleeding arm.

“Ma’am is there someone we should call?” He asked, looking concerned.

Wide eyed, unable to speak you nodded.

“Who?” The officer tried to coax out of you. It took a few seconds before you could reply.

“Steve.” Was all you could manage, handing him your phone.

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“Honey,” he was frustrated, “I don’t understand why you don’t think I should take you to work every day. I can take you to work and drop you off every day, it’s much safer that way.”

“I have my own car Steve, I agreed to stop walking and taking the subway, you don’t need to go out of your way.” He was hard to dissuade, once Steve got an idea lodged in his head he was bound and determined to have it his way.

“Baby, I’m worried about you. Won’t you feel safer knowing I’m there to take care of you?” Steve had come and wrapped his arms around you, he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

You let out a sigh of resignation and gave in.

“Fine, Steve but I think you’re overreacting a little. I can take care of myself.” You had put on the smallest of pouts and Steve began to laugh.

“Of course you can sugar,” Steve whispered before leaning down and taking a bite of your pouty lips.

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“Oh honey, you just can’t seem to learn, can you?”

Lying at the bottom of the stairs, clutching your face, Steve’s voice came from above you. The thuds shook the floor beneath you, heavy footfalls ringing in your ears. A hand at the back of your head gripped your hair, pulled you to standing. Still shielding your face, you watched with wide eyes as Steve held you with one hand and traced the blossoming bruises across your skin with the other.

“If you listened to me, you wouldn’t be hurting right now, you know that don’t you?”

It was hard to see, your eye swelling fast, everything aching from the tumble down the stairs. All you could do was whimper as Steve scooped you up and took you into the bedroom.

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“Honey, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Steve sat, arms crossed on the sofa. You had tried to bring up taking a break, finding your own place but he wasn’t letting you get the words out.

“Steve, things have been strained for a while, we both know it.” You wanted him to understand that things weren’t perfect anymore, you were unhappy.

“Do we?” He asked, eyes darkening, leaning forward in his seat. “Or do you? Do you really think you know what’s best here?” He was speaking to you like one would speak to a child, it grated on your thin nerves.

“I do! I just think… I need some space Steve.” It was hard to say but it needed to be said.

“If you want space honey, I’ll stay in the guest bedroom until you’re over this little upset and you can treat me like an adult. I know you get emotional sometimes, but it’s not fair for you to take it out on me.” Steve sounded hurt, crossed his arms and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

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“Honey?” Steve called, walking through the front door.

You flinched hearing his entrance. You closed your eyes and took measured breaths, bracing yourself for when he came to find you. Things were always better when Steve was gone. You hadn’t realized how much you disliked it when he was around, until you realized how calm you were when he was gone.

“Honey, how are you doing?” Steve had come to find you in the study where you had set up an office to work from home. Steve had insisted on it due to recent events, and try as you might it was hard to fight him on it.

Truly, you were miserable, confined to Steve’s house while he went about his business, video conferencing your coworkers you could no longer see in person because of your boyfriend’s obsessive personality. Every time you tried to make a case for something, Steve found a way to twist your words and get what he wanted.

Steve walked over to you, sitting at the new computer he had bought for your home office and gave you a kiss. His fingers ghosted over the shadow of a bruise on your cheek before pulling away.

“I’m fine.” You finally answered, just wanting to be left alone.

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“Honey, fuck.” This time you spoke the words, Steve’s tongue making sweet words mixed with curses fall out of your mouth.

“Baby, please.” You panted, feeling Steve work his fingers in and out of your pussy, wanting more, wanting all of him.

Grinning, Steve’s face appeared from between your legs, wiping his beard before attaching himself to your mouth, neck, tits. Fuck you remembered why you loved this man so much, this kind of pleasure made you think of when Steve and you had started dating, when everything was wonderful.

Your memories were cut off when Steve wrapped a large hand around your throat and squeezed. He had choked you before, but this time he wouldn’t let up even with watering eyes as you slapped at his hands. With his other hand, he took both of your wrists, securing them above your head so you couldn’t try to pry his hand loose.

“St-eve.” You choked out, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Steve was lost in his own pleasure, crushing your windpipe and slamming his hips into yours. Blackness bloomed across your vision and you struggled to draw breath before the darkness consumed you. You came to when Steve released you; you felt him cum deep in your cunt as he let you breathe again.

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“Oh honey, aren’t you excited?” Steve’s eyes sparkled as he held up the pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom counter.

All you felt was nausea, nausea and horror rising inside you as Steve was already taking pictures of the test and sending it out to Bucky and Sam. Kneeling down beside you Steve took your hands and looked into your watery eyes.

“I promise you honey, I will always take care of you and out family.”

#My writing #my works #this is dark #dark writings #Dark fics #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!captain america

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 4 years

Text

In honor of Valentines Day being on a Friday this year I thought I’d share the very first Carry On fic I ever wrote—Friday I’m in Love. It’s pure fluff that was written after my first attempt at baking sour cherry scones. You can find the recipe included with the fic on AO3 or here.

Friday I’m in Love

Baz:

I let myself into the flat.

It’s blessedly empty, as I expected. Simon and Bunce both have their last examinations today.

Mine were yesterday.

I believe I showed remarkable restraint in not coming over last night. I wanted to see Simon but distracting him before his last exam would have been poor form. Not to mention Bunce would most certainly have bitten my head off.

She’s an absolute terror when she’s studying I’ve discovered.

I didn’t know her well enough before Eighth Year at Watford and as she didn’t come back for second term I never had the chance to experience her end of term behaviour first hand.

She’s fucking terrifying.

I hoist my bag of supplies onto the countertop of their small kitchen and question myself again as to why I didn’t just do this at my flat. It’s far more spacious.

But my place is also far more sterile. I don’t mean clean, although it’s certainly tidier and far more sanitary than Simon and Bunce’s kitchen.

It’s warmer here. Not temperature warmer but more lived in. They actually use it far more than I use mine so it feels less stark. More welcoming. More like a home.

I can cook, if I must. I’m not like Fiona, who would likely expire on the spot if forced to fend for herself without take-away. Daphne’s all right. She always lets the staff off for the holidays. It gives her a chance to muck about in the kitchen herself on those days. She’s quite keen on it--even without magic--and honestly, she’s quite good at it.

It’s never held my interest though. Until now.

I’ve got all my supplies tidily set out on the countertop and I rummage in the cabinets for mixing bowls. I brought my own measuring cups and spoons. I wasn’t confident they’d have what I needed.

I’m not planning to use any magic for this. I’m going to do it all myself, because I want to, for Simon.

I’d rung Cook Pritchard a few days ago, when the idea struck me. There are likely recipes on the internet of course, but really what’s the point of that? It wouldn’t be the same, would it?

If I wanted to make Watford sour cherry scones for Simon it only made sense to get the Watford recipe. Hence the call to Cook Pritchard.

It had taken more wheedling than I expected to get her to part with the recipe.

“You aren’t the first student to ask, Basilton,” she had said. “It’s a Watford favorite but I don’t hand it out to just anyone.”

Pointing out that I wasn’t ‘just anyone’ would have been counterproductive at that particular moment.

It seemed I would have to resort to begging. “It’s not for just anyone,” I had said, my voice softening. “It’s for Snow. Simon Snow.”

I had heard her little intake of breath across the phone line and I knew I had her attention. I may have had an in with Cook Pritchard, being Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s son, but no one appreciated the food at Watford more than Simon and Cook knew that better than anyone.

I had continued, pressing my momentary advantage. “He’s finishing his first term at uni. I thought it would be a good surprise for him to come home to a platter of Watford’s sour cherry scones when he’s done with exams. Would you share the recipe just this once?”

She had emailed it to me within the hour. I am still coming to terms with the fact that Cook Pritchard used email. It was not something one thought about in regard to the Watford faculty and staff, even though Professor Bunce had eased the restrictions on electronics and set up WiFi when she took over as Headmaster. She’s never far from her laptop so it had been one of the first changes she made. After getting rid of the blasted merwolves, that is. Mitali Bunce has my vote of confidence for that alone. I hate the merwolves.

So now I’m here, in Simon’s flat, preparing to make the famous scones for my boyfriend.

I like the sound of that. Boyfriend. My boyfriend.

I would do anything for Simon.

Penny:

I’m done with exams before Simon, which isn’t surprising, but I’m too knackered to wait for him. I need a shower. I want to curl up on the sofa and watch stupid, mindless movies with him tonight.

And Baz, most likely. He’s sure to make an appearance tonight, after staying away yesterday.

Good thing, too. Simon is utterly incapable of focusing when Baz is around. Oh, I know he claims Baz helps him study but it’s rubbish. I’ve seen how he looks at Baz. He can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—off him.

To give credit where credit is due—Baz does try to help. He actually does help Simon study for some of his classes. He’s a stern taskmaster when he chooses to be.

But then he starts “rewarding” Simon for a job well done and I have to retreat to my room before it turns into a bloody snog fest, which it invariably does. Baz is as bad as Simon when it comes to the looking and touching.

I hear the music as soon as I open the door to the flat. How did Simon get home so early, I wonder, until I stop to actually listen to what’s playing.

My suspicion is confirmed when I enter the kitchen to find Baz washing up dishes as Kishi Bashi plays from his phone.

I really have my doubts about vampire hearing acuity when he startles as I come up next to him.

“Bloody hell, Bunce!” he snaps, glaring down at me as he picks up the bowl he dropped. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to have the preternaturally enhanced hearing,” I say, frowning at him. “Or is that only in regard to Simon?”

Baz points to the sink, which is still running, and then to the small speaker on the counter next to his phone. “Running water and music, Bunce. Even I can’t hear you sneaking up on me over that.”

“Wasn’t sneaking,” I retort. “It is my flat after all. You’re the one who broke in.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘breaking in’ if I have a key.”

The scent has hit me now. The kitchen smells divine. I stop fussing at him. “What have you been doing?” I ask, bending down to peek into the oven.

He bats my hand away before I can open the oven door to look.

“All in good time, Bunce, all in good time,” he says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Simon on his way?”

“Should be shortly. What are you up to, Baz?” I’ve taken in the bags of flour and sugar on the counter, the bowls and measuring cups in the drying rack and the heavenly aroma wafting from the oven. “You’ve got a nicer kitchen than we do—why did you drag yourself and all this over here?” I ask.

It is telling that Baz blushes before he speaks. Of course he does.

“I wanted them to be warm, when Snow got home. And not by magic.”

“Wanted what to be warm?” I inquire.

He rolls his eyes at me again right as the oven timer goes off. He doesn’t answer me--just turns to pull on oven mitts and I’m a bit dazed for a moment at the sight of such a domestic looking Baz. I don’t notice what’s on the pan until he puts it on top of the stove to cool.

They’re scones. Cherry scones. Of course. My chest tightens and my gaze softens as I look at Baz.

He’s flushed more than he was a moment ago (which means Baz fed before he came over) and his eyes are riveted to the floor, not meeting mine.

“They smell fantastic,” I say. “They look just like the ones at Watford.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “You are such a sap, Baz. He’ll love it.”

Baz smiles down at me. It’s such a soft look, more like the ones he usually gives Simon. “You think so?” he asks quietly.

“I know so,” I say. “I’ll have to snag one before he gets home—you know he’ll eat them all, down to the last crumb.”

He swats my hand away again. “Keep your mitts off them, Bunce. Those are all for Simon.”

Simon:

“What’s for me?” I ask. Baz and Penny turn startled eyes in my direction. It’s not often I manage to sneak up on Penny but I almost never catch Baz by surprise.

I’d heard the music and the low murmur of voices when I came in. I’m dead on my feet. I stayed up far too late studying last night and my last exam was a bear.

But I’m done and home now and my two favorite people in the world are here and there’s a glorious smell in the air that is tantalizingly familiar.

“Hey, Simon,” Penny says.

Baz walks across the room to slip his arms around my waist. “Hello, love,” he says to me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I melt into his arms, only too happy to lean my weight into his steady grip. I rest my head on his shoulder as my own arms wrap around him.

“Smells good in here,” I mumble.

“I should hope so,” Baz says. “I wouldn’t have wanted all my hard work to be in vain.”

I pick up my head to look at him. “You made something?” I ask and then look around the kitchen until I spot the baking pan resting on the stove top.

I freeze and then blink for a moment as I realize it’s a tray of scones. Cherry scones to be exact.

“You made these?” I ask, pointing to them. “For me?”

“Who else would I make cherry scones for, Snow?” Baz says crisply. “I don’t know of anyone who has as strong feelings for them as you do.”

“Simon,” I say, automatically correcting him as I drift over to the scones.

They look just like Cook Pritchard’s.

I don’t even know what to say. This may be the first time in my life I’m faced with warm cherry scones and I’m not immediately devouring them.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” Baz asks me. “I think you’d be assured I wasn’t out to poison you by now.”

“Git,” I say absentmindedly.

“I’ll have one then,” Penny says, reaching her hand towards the tray.

Baz bats her hand away and glares at her. “I told you, Bunce, these are Simon’s. You can have one when he’s done. Maybe.”

“If he’s left any,” Penny huffs. “You know how he is. He practically inhales them.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” I complain. My tail lashes once then wraps itself around Baz’s leg. I reach out for a scone. It’s hot to touch still. I toss it from hand to hand.

Penny groans and hands me a plate and the butter dish.

I slather the scone with butter and take a bite. My eyes close and I could swear I’m back at Watford—the smell, the taste, the company. For just a minute I am back there, a ghost of a tingle in my fingers and a warm rush in my chest.

I slip my free arm around Baz’s waist and look up at him. His cheeks have a dusting of pink and it goes all the way up to his ears. He looks soft and shy and open. I go up on my toes and brush my buttery lips to his. “Thank you, Baz.”

His arm tightens around my waist as he pulls me closer. “Anything for you, love."

And I know he means it.

“If I have to watch you two snog in the kitchen then I deserve a scone,” Penny says, snatching one from the tray.

“Then we might as well give you a show, Bunce,” Baz says, turning to me. He rolls his eyes. I’ve grabbed another scone and am in the midst of eating it as he leans down to kiss me again.

“Incorrigible, Snow.”

“Simon,” I say, as I swallow the last bite and pull his face down to mine.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563994

#simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #snowbaz #valentines day #friday im in love #fluff #my writing #my fics

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ “Enigma” (Near/Nate River) [1 of ?]

Genre: Action, Supernatural, Angst, Crossover, Friendship ☁

Word Count: 3,319 ☁

Pairing: First Person x Near ☁

World: Death Note feat. Supernatural ☁

WARNING: Spoilers for episode season 1, episode 6 of Supernatural. If you want to want to skip the spoiler, skip the paragraph that starts with “To add to that”.

Author’s Note: This is written in the first person, featuring an OC named Rae Winchester, Dean and Sam’s cousin. You don’t have to be a fan of Supernatural to read this fic.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Stifling a yawn, I slid the keycard into the lock, waiting for it to click before twisting the handle. A blast of cold air hit your face and you sighed in content. After being out in the hot Texas sun all day fighting off demons, it felt nice to find some cool air.

Sam shot up from the small round table near the door, his expression one of worry. “Where have you been?!”

I scowled, scratching my head. “I was working, what do you think.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Uhh,” My mind flashed back to that morning. I had been fighting a rather large and ugly demon. My phone had rung and I got distracted for a moment, giving him an opportunity. He attacked, slamming me up against a brick wall. My phone fell out of my hand and smashed against the cement. “We should really invest in sturdier phones, Sam.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “That’s not important right now. We’ve got a problem,”

“What is it?” I asked, leaning against the counter.

“Dean was arrested,”

“Again?”

“This time it was the FBI,”

I groaned, falling into the chair across from him. “Of all the organizations, it just had to be those bastards.”

“We have to get him back, Rae.”

“You got a plan?” I questioned, leaning back in my chair.

He frowned, looking thoughtfully at his laptop. “I’m… working on it,”

I stood up, leaving him to his thoughts as I stepped back outside into the heat. The door clicked behind me and I leaned against it, pulling my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I lit it up before taking a long drag.

My name is Rae Winchester and I’m a hunter. That is, I make a living off of killing non-human creatures that plague our world. Dean and Sam are my cousins, but they practically raised me and I view them more like brothers. Both of them are older than me, Dean being the eldest brother. They’re also hunters, but they chose a different path than I did.

While I take jobs and get paid to kill things, they prefer to hunt in secret and without pay. In order to get by, they commit petty theft – money, identities, credit cards. They’ve stolen it all at one point or another.

To add to that, a long time ago Sam and Dean were investigating a case in Missouri which turned out to be a shapeshifter – a creature that could take on the form of anyone it wants. When it became aware that it was being hunted, it changed itself to look like Dean before attacking and murdering a couple people. Ever since then, he has been on and off the Most Wanted list.

I’ve done my best to use my connections to their fullest extent to protect him, but even if I get the record erased from the system, there are still those hard-pressed agents that are determined to ‘bring him to justice’.

Justice… what a joke.

I threw my cigarette down onto the ground, stomping it out with my boot.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

I tucked the white button-up shirt into my slacks before pulling my suit jacket on and buttoning it up. I glanced at Sam as he waited by the door, dressed in his own suit.

Before leaving the hotel room we were staying in, Sam grabbed my shoulder. “Please be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Hmph, careful is my middle name, Sammy,” I responded, straightening the tie. I grabbed the wallet with my fake badge inside and tucked into the back pocket of my slacks before leaving the room. I headed downstairs, keeping my head held high as we exited the hotel. One thing I had learned over the years is that if you act confident like you’re the most important person in the world, people will start to believe it, and I did just that. Anyone that dared look at us, I glared at them in turn and they quickly averted their gaze.

The FBI headquarters that Dean was being held at was in New York City.

We stepped into the building like we owned it, heading for the security gate. The guard eyed us suspiciously as I stepped up to the keypad, scanning my badge. It clicked and the gate unlocked, swinging open. The guard nodded his head and we stepped through the metal detector without a problem.

It’s times like these that I’m glad I don’t use guns. Not that I have to, all things considered.

The woman standing in the elevator saw us approaching and held the door. Sam and I stepped onto the elevator and he thanked her. The door slid closed and the elevator lurched as it started its ascent.

“What floor?” She asked, her hand hovering over the panel.

“Twenty-four, please,” I answered.

She pressed it before looking at Sam.

“I’m also going to the twenty-fourth floor,”

She nodded, lowering her hand.

The two of us made small talk until the woman got off on the tenth floor.

“What’s the plan?” Sam asked, adjusting his tie.

“Find Dean,”

He looked at me in disbelief, “Please tell me there’s more than that…”

“Nope,”

“Plan B?”

“I don’t think they sell that here, Sammy.”

He deadpanned. “Not funny,”

I shrugged. “Never said it was. Look, all you have to do is find Dean. Once you find him, let me know and I’ll create a distraction. During the chaos, you grab him and run. Simple, yeah?”

Sam frowned, shifting from one leg to the other. “You better not die,”

“I won’t,”

“I won’t forgive you if you do,”

“I’m not going to die, Sam.” I glanced at him. “At least not yet,” I glanced at the numbers surging past on the LED screen above the door. “Look alive, we’re almost there,”

He straightened up as the doors slid open, stepping out and heading to the left. I went right.

Although it was only one floor, there was a lot of ground to cover and while our badges could get us past any of the security clearance levels, the people couldn’t be bypassed so easily. I wasn’t too worried about myself, I know I can handle their attacks, but Sam is a different story.

My hands clenched at my sides. Rescuing Dean was not my top priority – keeping them alive was.

I followed the hallway, glancing into each room with a window. I felt someone pass by me, but I paid it no mind. I wasn’t interested in the agents here, but I suddenly felt a strange feeling overcome me. What was this raw emotion I was feeling? Was it… a challenge?

I turned around, surprised to find the aura radiating off of a young boy. He stood in the middle of the hall, watching me through blank, calculating eyes. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. What was a kid so young doing at the FBI headquarters?

“Hey, kid. I’m looking for someone. His name is Dean Winchester, you seen him?” I questioned.

His expression did not change, he just tilted his head slightly and started to twirl a piece of his snow-white hair around a pale finger. “You don’t belong here,” he stated, monotonously.

My eyes narrowed. I just fucking got here, there’s no way in hell I’m letting him ruin it this early. “Listen, kid, I don’t have time for games. It’s important that I find this man. Do you know where he is or not?”

He nodded but said nothing.

My eye twitched. This kid unnerved me. Why was his expression so blank? Was he a fucking robot? Forget it, I’m wasting time. Without another word, I turned and continued down the hall.

He followed me. I could feel his presence behind me. Despite his age, it felt like a lion stalking its prey.

Seriously, what is with this kid? I can’t sense any demon blood in him. He smells completely human… so why is he giving off such a strong aura? It didn’t make any sense.

I stopped, turning around to scowl at me. “Stop following me,”

“You don’t belong here,” He repeated.

“Pretty sure a kid doesn’t belong here either,” I scoffed. Should I show him my badge? It’s the highest quality forgery available, I paid top dollar for it and it’s never failed me in the past, but something about this kid made me hesitate. I knew deep down that he would be able to see through it. Before I could speak again, a shrill voice interrupted me.

“What do we have here~? Is that a she-demon I see?”

My body tensed at the familiar voice and I turned around, hoping that I was wrong. Standing at the end of the hall was a woman named Marnie. As usual, she was dressed in a skimpy outfit, the color pink being the primary color from head to toe. A large feather boa was wrapped around her neck.

“You have got to be kidding me,”

She smirked, folding her arms under her breasts, pushing them up and making them appear larger. “Imagine meeting you here of all places. It must be fate~!”

A sick, twisted fate maybe. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“I charmed them, of course. One look and all the boys do my bidding without question.” She giggled, wrapping her arms tighter around her.

“Isn’t there some magical law against that or something?” I asked, rubbing the back of my head. What was I going to do? It would be bad enough that I have to fight off these damned FBI agents until Sam and Dean can get away, but now I have to fight off a witch too? Anytime you’d like to give me a break, universe.

I suddenly remembered the kid behind me and cursed. If we start fighting, he’s going to get hurt. Damn it.

She giggled again. “Of course there is, silly~ But rules don’t apply to me. I can charm anything with my magic. The world is my playground~!”

“Sounds fascinating,” I said dryly. “Well it was great catching up with you, gotta go.” I turned on my heel, grabbing the boys arm and speed walking back the way I came. I could feel the magic barreling towards me and I dodged, pushing the kid against the wall. A ball of pink energy whizzed past at an alarming speed before exploding at the other end of the hall. Alarms started to go off.

“Fuck my life,” I groaned, glancing down at the kid. He was staring at Marnie with wide, emotionless eyes. I shook his body lightly to get his attention, keeping my eyes on the witch as she approached. “Listen, kid. I’m gonna distract her. When I rush her, I want you to run in the opposite direction. Don’t stop, don’t look back. Just go, understand?”

He didn’t answer, not that I expected him to. I pushed him behind me, unbuttoning the suit jacket and loosening the tie.

“Ya know, I was set to go on vacation tomorrow. Peace and quiet without work for a week,” I sighed. “No witches, no demons, no fucking idiots for a full week. Is that so much to ask?”

“Come now, She-Demon, you know you can’t get rid of us that easily,” Her eyes narrowed and they started to glow. Before she could fire off another blast of energy, I rushed her, pulling my fist back and connecting it with her jaw. She slid back, her heels digging into the carpet. When she lifted her head, her eyes were glowing stronger, anger clear on her face. She thrust her hand forward and another ball of energy shot towards me. I dodged right as it got close and it whizzed past, colliding with the group of FBI agents that had just turned the corner, weapons drawn. They cried as it hit them, sending them flying against the wall.

My eyes quickly scanned the are behind me. The kid was gone. I sighed in relief.

“How dare you take your attention off me,” Marnie hissed, now in front of me. I didn’t react in time and she flew around, her heeled foot slamming into my stomach. The wall behind me cracked on impact and I grunted, feeling the heel slice the skin through the white button-up.

I grabbed her ankle, pressing hard into the ground to keep myself steady. “God, you’re so annoying!” I cried, kicking her other leg from underneath her. I pulled a knife from my sock and rammed it into her skin. She cried out, sending an uncontrolled burst of energy at my hand. I released her ankle and scrambled out of the way. It hit the wall, increasing the dent from my body.

“Come on, Sam,” I growled into the earpiece.

More agents rounded the corner, their guns pointed at us. They were all shouting at us to get down, their voices overlapping one another and drowned out by the shrill sound of the alarm.

“I’ve got him!” Sam’s voice rang through the earpiece. “We’re clear!”

Perfect, now I just gotta get my ass out of here. I glanced behind me. It was a dead-end, but there was a large window off to the left. Well, I can’t exactly use the elevator now, can I.

I smirked at the agents that were slowly advancing. “I’d love to stay for tea, but I’m gonna miss my train. Later, boys!” I turned on my heel and darted for the end of the hall. They started to shoot, but their aim sucked.

Marnie cried out in anger and I looked behind me in time to see her slam her fist into the ground. It shattered in a flash of neon pink, the burst of light engulfing the hall. I knew this was gonna hurt…

The light exploded, thrusting me out the window. The glass scraped my skin, but none of the wounds felt too deep. The wind ripped around my body as gravity started to take over and I started to fall towards the Earth.

This is also gonna hurt…

My body slammed into the cement a couple blocks away from the building, in an alley behind a fish market. I landed a foot away from the dumpster, my body digging into the cement and pulling the dumpster over. It landed on top of me, spilling its contents.

I should have let the agents shoot me. It would have been less painful.

Sam came rushing over, his face a mixture of worry and disgust. “Are you… are you okay?”

I grunted, shoving the dumpster off of me. My clothes were wet with blood and rotten fish guts. “What the fuck do you think?”

He held his hand out and I took it, muttering about witches.

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” I scoffed, kicking the dumpster across the alley.

“You’re not getting paid at all,” Sam responded, his voice muffled by the shirt he was holding over his nose.

“That’s the point, Sam!”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

I sat down on the park bench, watching the sun set on the horizon. The park was located on the edge of the river, so the sun was reflecting on the water. If I didn’t hate the sun so damn much, I might even consider it to be beautiful.

A week had passed since we rescued Dean from the FBI headquarters. The boys had left New York immediately, heading over to Oregon to investigate a string of mysterious disappearances. I headed over to Maine to recover from the fish hell I had experienced.

Even now, news stations and papers were going nuts reporting on the incident, which they labeled as “an act of terrorism”. What little bit of camera footage that Marnie hadn’t destroyed with her blast of anger was tampered with by an accomplice that worked for me. He’s considered one of the best hackers in the world – there’s very little he can’t get his digital hands on. With this, the FBI had no faces, names or leads. The only thing they could clearly report was that their prisoner had escaped during the chaos.

“Ren,”

I snapped out of my thoughts, looking over at Detective Kim as he approached me. “Sup, detective? Must be important to ask me out like this.”

He nodded, holding out a manila folder. I took it from his hands, flipping it open. The report was about a string of serial murders in Salt Lake City. There was also a report on a missing girl named Sarah Adams.

Detective Kim pointed at her photograph. “She was kidnapped sometime between the first and fifth murder.”

“What makes you so sure they’re connected?”

“He left his calling card,”

I flipped the page, seeing a photograph of this calling card he mentioned. It was a pirate flag with a bloody dagger stuck in the center, right over the left eye of the skull pattern. What a weird calling card. “Pretty extra if you ask me. What’s so special about this girl, anyway?”

“She’s the niece of the senator,” He folded his arms, turning to look at the last of the sun as it sunk in the distance. “The higher-ups are breathing down my neck for results. I’m doing the best I can, but at the end of the day, I’m just a man.”

“Hmm,” I continued to flip through the pages, looking for any information that may be key items.

“You’ll be paid for your work, of course.” He commented, glancing at me from under the brim of his hat. “You’ll also have my eternal gratitude,”

“Eternal gratitude?” I echoed, slapping the folder closed. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Count me in.”

I saw the corner of his lips tugging up, but he held back the smile. “I’m counting on you, Winchester.”

“Yes, yes. Have I ever let you down in the past?” I asked, meeting his gaze. “On second thought, don’t answer that.”

“Just don’t make a national headline out of it like you did in New York.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” I scowled, standing up off the bench. “How the fuck was I supposed to know that a witch would show up to ruin my life?”

“I thought that was a typical day for you?” He raised a brow, an amused glint in his eye.

I pointed my index finger at him, ready to argue, but then I paused. “Fair point,”

He chuckled, patting my shoulder before turning and walking away. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Winchester! I might have to rethink my eternal gratitude.”

You grinned at his back before walking in the opposite direction, the file tucked under your arm.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You stepped into the police department, approaching the front desk. “I need to speak to Detective Kim,”

“Detective Kim isn’t in right now,”

“When will he be back?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t disclose that information. Would you like to leave a message for him?”

“No,” I scowled, turning around and exiting the station. I stopped on the steps, lighting up a cigarette. Where the hell was he? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for three days to no avail. It wasn’t like him to dodge my calls, especially when I’m working on a case. This wasn’t like him. Had something happened?

I walked down the steps, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“Winchester!”

“Heh?” I stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning to look at the man rushing down the steps. He was wearing a police uniform, but I didn’t recognize his face.

“You’re looking for Detective Kim, aren’t you?” He questioned, his brow furrowed.

“Depends who’s asking,”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he took off his hat. “My name is Rodriquez. I know you’re close to the Detective, that’s why I came after you.”

“Has something happened?” I questioned, giving him my full attention.

“I think so,” He frowned. “He hasn’t come to work in a week! The higherups are keeping it pretty hush-hush, or at least trying to, but I overheard Detective Niel talking about it. No one knows where he is. I went to his apartment yesterday and talked to his neighbors. They haven’t seen him either,”

The hell? I turned and started to walk away.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I scowled at him over my shoulder. “I’m going to find him,” I pulled my phone out as I walked away from the station, dialing his number for the umpteenth time. I didn’t expect him to answer, but I stopped when the line clicked.

A distorted voice came over the line. “Detective Kim is currently unavailable,”

Is this a fucking two-bit horror movie? What’s with the voice changer? I scowled, “Who is this?”

“You may call me N,”

Guess we’re passed using actual names. “And where is the Detective?”

“He is safe. For now,”

“What do you want with him?”

“That is of no concern to you,” The voice paused for a moment. “I wonder… can you find him?” The line went dead.

My hand clenched around the phone, cracking the screen. Son of a bitch doesn’t know who he’s messing with!

Okay, calm down and focus. Breathe – in and out. In and out.

I closed my eyes, picturing the apartment building that Seven lived in. I felt my body shifting like it had become a liquid swirling inside a tornado. The sound of wind whipped past my ears before suddenly stopping. It felt as if I was speeding fast and then suddenly came to a dead stop. When I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of the apartment building in Seoul, South Korea.

I tilted my neck right to left, cracking it. I’ve teleported so many times, but I don’t think I’d ever get used to the feeling.

I ran up the stairs to the third floor and banged on apartment number 412. It was late her in Seoul, around four in the morning. I banged louder, considering just picking the lock or kicking the door in.

The door opened, revealing a half-asleep Seven. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at me. “Boss?”

I pushed past him, stepping into the dark apartment. “I have a job for you,”

He stifled a yawn, shutting and locking the door. “Can I have a minute to wake up?”

“Make it a fast minute,” I ordered, watching him shuffle down the hall and into the bathroom. I opened his fridge, grabbing a can of soda and sitting down on the couch. He came back five minutes later, carrying his laptop, which he sat down on the table in front of the couch.

He entered the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. “What is it you need, boss?”

I pulled out my phone, dropping it onto the table beside his laptop. “I need you to track a number. Something tells me it’s being blocked, but if anyone can find it, it’s you.”

He raised a brow as he sat down on the floor, his back resting against the couch. “That’s… Detective Kim’s number, right?”

“Yeah. He’s been missing for a week according to a co-worker. I’ve been calling him for three days to update him on a case,” I explained, sitting back on the couch as he booted up the laptop. “I tried calling him again a few minutes ago after I left the police station. Someone answered, using a voice changer.”

“A voice changer?” He glanced back at me. “People actually do that?”

“Apparently,” I scoffed. The phone started to vibrate right as he picked it up.

Seven lifted the phone over his head and behind him. “It’s Dean,”

I slipped it out of his hand and pressed it to my ear. “Hey, Dean. What’s up?”

“Hey, kiddo. What are you up to?”

“Nothing. What do you need?”

“Me and Sammy are in Missouri and we need your help,”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ll be there soon,” I ended the call and handed the phone back to Seven. “Call Sam or Dean when you’ve traced the call.”

“Roger~”

I closed my eyes and concentrated again. The familiar feeling washed over me as I teleported.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

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arsnovacadenza · 4 years

Text

So I finally played The Wolf Among Us

Being the big bad wolf fan that I am, I’d been dying to get my hands on the game after seeing images of Bigby floating around pinterest. Then I found out it was discounted around 50% yesterday and I knew I GOTTA have it.

Here’s a not-so-short rundown of my thoughts since no one’d read my full review anyway. Also, bear in mind that I never read the graphic novels so I’ll be judging the characters and plot solely on the first and (currently) only game. Spoilers under the cut!

The good:

Bigby. God I ENJOYED playing as him. There was great satisfaction being able to play this rough, potentially dangerous character and see him grow into this person that Fabletown finally grows to accept. During my first playthrough, I wasn’t able to play him as a brutal, full blown anti-hero because I need to keep him on the community’s good side. I’m definitely gonna replay the chapters and choose the more violent options and see him go full badass wolf on everyone. Speaking of badass, I constantly kept thinking to myself “Wow, I’d LOVE to play as him in an action game.” That one big fight scene against Bloody Mary made me go “You’re doing great, sweetie! Keep it up!”

The story definitely got me hooked. There wasn’t a time when I wished a speed button was available unlike Hashihime in the Old Book Town where I got bored during a sex scene.

It didn’t remind me of Happily N’ever After and its forced self-awareness that borders on annoying. Mini rant: I love when stories are set in a world where fairy tale characters meet and interact with each other, but that doesn’t mean every work that does it interests me because the handling of the theme may not quite work (for me at least). I haven’t rewatched Shrek, but I never rolled my eyes every time they make a joke about a fairytale character. I never watched Once Upon a Time but I feel it’s gonna be a pretty mixed bag? It’s just weird seeing all these adult characters taking the whole thing seriously and not in an endearingly self-aware kind of way. The Wolf Among Us kinda did it nicely in that yeah, these were fairy tale characters. Let’s see them work their way as poor people living in New York. I like how they take on the poverty angle because it kinda reminds me of my country, sorta.

To my surprise, the fight scenes DID IT for me. It’s satisfying to be able to beat the shit outta people I wanted to punch from the very beginning of the game (the Tweedles and Mary. Boy I wanted to see them banged up real badly). To be honest, I never played these Telltale games and I had my doubts about the combat mechanics. Turns out they were done pretty well. Also, I can’t shut up about the final brawl against Mary because....Big Bad Boi.

The meh:

Most of the character designs didn’t wow me. I could name the characters whose design I liked: Bigby, Georgie, Flycatcher, Bluebeard. The rest? Not so much. Some characters like Nerissa were a hit-or-miss while the rest are predictable (Bufkin, Crane, etc) or completely forgettable (Faith and Vivian’s design. Faith’s was at least memorable because her introduction was). The worst one, to me, was Bloody freakin’ Mary. Her design was simply underwhelming. I absolutely adored her true form, but her glamored form was simply...not there. I understand they don’t want to play the edgy up to eleven which was probably why they didn’t make her tattoo-ed up like Georgie (which is a shame because her emblem has a cool design. Imagine the cool tattoos she could’ve had), but her design was just half-assed (to me anyway). Not gonna lie, I actually was hooked up by her first appearance —a tough looking enemy with big butch energy —and then she opened her mouth and she sounds like fucking Bayonetta. This is probably just my personal taste, but I hate the femme fatale villain trope to death and I hate seeing this masculine lady sounding like a generic seductive villainess. Plus, I didn’t see her much during my playthrough so she ended up NOT coming across a real threat or a worthy opponent to Bigby, just a violent bully I need to get through.

The love interest character’s development was a mixed bag. I didn’t hate Snow White (like some people seem to do), but I was disappointed that she drifted away from Bigby before she gets the chance to solidify herself as his equal and partner. I know she marries him in the graphic novels, but I didn’t quite root for them to be together in the game. Mostly because of the boss-employee dynamic they had towards the end of the game, but it’s also because I also started to see how she didn’t grow to be somebody who understands Bigby and the plight of the non-human characters of Fabletown (case in point being Mr. Toad and TJ). She keeps saying that she does understand what life is like for people like Holly and I did sympathize with her when she talks to Bigby about her wanting to make Fabletown a better place, but the plot cuts her development once she has to act as Deputy Major in Crane’s place. She eventually becomes affixed as a cog in the machine. Sure, she’s needed to keep the system running, but her insisting on going by the (outdated) book just didn’t work I kept getting reminded of Louis from Beastars and how got his character development was. In Louis’ case, he started out as an covert bigot who strongarms his way to obtain authority, thinking he’d be able to make the world a better place. He does make good out of it, but we also see him coming to terms with his vulnerability which leads him to reach out towards other people with the same goals. Simply put, he changed from a know-it-all who wants to change the world so they’d suit his own views better to someone who genuinely wants to make a difference for other people. This....kinda doesn’t happen with Snow White. It’s probably because the POV (who stays on Bigby the entire time) or they’re saving her character development for the sequel; we can’t really tell until Season 2 comes out.

Speaking of which, how does being a giant, fearsome wolf in disguise reflect on Bigby’s relationship with other animal characters like Mr. Toad? I thought there was some potential in contrasting Mr Toad’s inability to afford glamor and Bigby having his lycantrophy knife handed to him by Snow. I imagine the animal townsfolk would take jabs at him having the privilege to remain constantly human without having to constantly return to the 13th floor but it never happened.

The resolution of the Crooked Man’s plot felt rushed and I was disappointed with how they handled the organized crime plot. It was built to be a grand scheme beyond Crane and the murder of the girls, but they resolved it way too quickly. It’s probably just me, but when you have organized crime and financial exploitation by (persumedly) a mafia, do you expect the villain to have their ass handed back to them in two chapters after their buildup?I mean, during Bigby and Crooked Man’s confrontation at the factory, I kept expecting the Crooked Man to make his escape after the battle against Mary — him being immediately dragged to court was anti-climatic. Does it really take that short a time to take down a big, magical mafia boss? Shouldn’t he have other witches at his beck and call (the secret lab at Johann’s place definitely hinted at that!)

I won’t refute if somebody brings up the lack of diversity in the entire cast. As far as I know, there was only one black person and they didn’t do anything with her character. I thought It would be nice if we get to see POC characters like Aladdin or Yeh-Shen (or replace Aladdin with Sinbad or Ali Baba if we want to go for total accuracy). It doesn’t help that the predominantly white characters look generic. Heck, some of the girls could have some variety in body shapes. For example, why not make Holly be a big beautiful woman? If you don’t want to make her morbidly obese, at least make her look heavier. You know, because she’s a troll. No, her wanting to look beautiful by concealing her troll form doesn’t work. Her wanting to be her own kind of beautiful (especially according to Troll standards) can be contrasted nicely to Lily having to wear her human skin because she needs to cater to her clientele, thus further emphasizing her lack of choice in her employment to Guido (and by extent the Crooked Man).

How long has it been since the exodus? Why is the Fabletown government still this terrible? I really want to be able to see the demographic at a bigger scope. For example, I’d like to see more of the dynamic between people like Bluebeard and the people at the Business Office. Also, what’s up with people with various problems going straight up to the Business Office? Do they not have accountants? How do they handle the legal stuff with the mundies? Who’s handling legal? The organization at the Business Office is just...weird. I thought they’d have some sort of higher council since I thought they’d need a bigger power to keep more powerful magic beings (like the witches) in place. Are things done better in the graphic novel?

Some of the animation lagged/look really janky on my Envy 13 laptop. Also, I encountered a bug at the beginning of some chapters where choices show up when they don’t need to, as well as some weird cuts during scene. Had to exit and reboot the game to proceed.

That’s all I can think of now. Feel free to send an ask so we can gush about the husbando material that is Bigby Wolf if you have other opinions!

#the wolf among us #snow white (twau)#bigby wolf #the crooked man (twau)#twau spoilers #the wolf among us spoilers #by the way hashihime isn't that bad check it out if you like lgbtq+ visual novels #or just yaoi #because it still handles stuff like consent issues wrong #also #where is red riding hood #is she going to be a boss or something #like jeanne was to bayonetta in the first game?

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my-brothers-corrupted · 4 years

Text

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 1 : Section 3 : Oh Happy Day

We’re at the end of a difficult day. After his first real round of hypnosis, Marvin – or Blue, perhaps – became hysteric and had to be restrained by Red when his magic ran amok and flowers began growing up through the floorboards. Doktor, triggered when Trick grabbed him by the back of the throat, went into a state of confusion and ended up throttling Trick in return, but they’re doing their best to make up. As for Dapper, the youngest sits alone in the attic, staring up at the Northern Lights, and you see the lines between who he is and who he was blur gently, for a time traveler’s amnesia is never quite as strong as Anti would like it to be.

Trigger warnings: (not necessarily a complete list! Please tell me if you need others added up here because I’m just trying to remember what’s in here) blood, mentions of alcoholism, grief, hypnosis, discussion of psychosis, and abuse, including infantilization of a disabled character and abuse between brothers.

The masterlist for this chapter is linked at the bottom because I can’t get it to link here for whatever reason.

Part Three of Chapter One: Oh Happy Day

loganandoli asked: Carver, is that Poe? Is she finally back?

Carver darts out from underneath the bed, uncurling, a light returned to his eyes. “My bird!” he signs, clapping his hands together. “My Poe!”

There’s a huge black raven in the windowsill, her wings spread wide. Dapper leaps up onto the bed beside her, nearly weeping for joy, and she lets him stroke her beak, cawing softly in the evening light.

“There’s my good girl,” he signs, delighted. “Oh, oh, my good girl. Here to keep me company? Not alone. Not alone. Here’s my bird, my bird, my friend.”

optimistic-violinist asked: This is probably a dangerous question.... but could Dapper go back before they were all Anti's?

Dapper blinks. “I need frames of reference. I can’t remember the time before we were Anti’s, so I can’t go back to it. Even if I could, I’ve never turned back farther than a week. And that nearly… that almost… it wasn’t good for me. Anti says time travel is bad for the baby, and I am the baby.”

He rubs Poe’s head, considering.

“Not that I would go back so far, of course,” he adds quickly. “I’m quite happy with Anti, thank you very much.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe a little out of left field, but does Marvin still have his mask?

Marvin’s mouth pales and he turns away from you, touching his face, patterned in scars. “No,” he whispers. “Anti tore it off as he dragged me back to the house. I suppose it’s been thrown away now… I had that mask for years… I was born with it. The last little piece of Ja - of my old master that I had left.”

He stares down at his hands, then up at you, teary-eyed.

“But don’t worry about it,” he whispers, trying to smile. “We have bigger problems right now, don’t we?”

Anonymous asked: Who wants to hear a song?

Dapper frowns at you, confused. “A song?”

Anonymous asked: 🎵 Look to the stars my darling wonderful boys. Life is strange and vast, filled with wonders and joys! Face each new sun with eyes clear and true! Unafraid of the unknown, because I'll face it all with you! 🎵

Dapper melts onto the windowsill, putting his chin down. “Oh… pretty, thank you. You’re too sweet.” His cheeks are rosy red and he smiles easily, letting his contented eyes slip shut.

musical-in-theory asked: Ope, would you look at the time? It’s time for Anti’s daily reminder that he can kindly go fuck right off.

Anti ignores you. He’s got three laptops open around him and he’s so focused he’s lost most of his opalescence. The screens flash with color and letters, though you don’t see his fingers typing. He wears an old form he’s fond of, a younger Jack dressed all in black, with a lot of light green hair and big black eyes.

Anonymous asked: anti, do you know your carver is making friends with wild animals? i though he was being kept alone as a punishment

Anti glances up, frowning. “Wild animals? What’s he playing with now? I thought I got rid of his fucking mice. Filthy little things. He’ll make himself sick.”

Anti rises to his feet, glancing towards Dapper’s room. “And he’s not there for punishment. He’s just a little fragile. Needs more careful care than the others. I made sure they all keep plenty of distance from him. But thank you for letting me know.”

Anonymous asked: for anti. why did you tie him up? he could just untie it right?

“He could! He could, he certainly could. But he doesn’t.” Anti glances at you. “I mean, it’s tied up a little too tall for him and the rope is quite thick, so it wouldn’t be easy. But I’ll tell you a secret - it’s not about keeping him there. It’s about the shame.”

Anti stares out the window, his eyes momentarily clouded. “He was the first one I trained,” he tells you, almost wistful. “And back then I used real chains and kept him strung up for days on end, until he was crying to be allowed to move. To have the awful chains off his throat. To not be tied up like a dog, licking food off his plate when I gave it to him, whimpering for affection. I don’t know how much of that he remembers - but enough. Enough. It’s an awful humiliation for him. He hated it more than being tortured, even when he still belonged to his last master. So he knows, if the rope is there, that he has been a bad dog, and that, if he wants to be free, he must show me he can obey. So, you see, he doesn’t try to take it off. He remembers who his master is, and makes better choices in the future.”

He returns his focus to you, blinking. “Well! Should we go check on the little puppy? Sounds like my stupid little pet found himself a stupid little pet. Dogs shouldn’t play with nasty things.”

Anonymous asked: Why don’t you let him see the others or let the others see him?

Anti stares at you, considering.

“The boys downstairs need each other,” he tells you, carefully picking his words. “And so I allow them to have each other, because I do not have time to care for each one of them myself. They wouldn’t get enough attention, enough affection. But there are dangers to that too… an independence and a sense of self-worth that come along with it. So I decided from the start that the most precious one - the one I cannot lose - he must stay close, and I will care for him myself. That way he will never slip through my fingers.”

He smiles coldly, his eyes flashing with victory pride. “Dapper will never slip through my fingers.

“Beside, you’ve seen how rough the boys downstairs are with each other. Even twins will strike and bite. Why would I subject my powerful little Dapper to that? He gets preferential treatment and they all know it. He has proven time and time again to be the most valuable, the most vicious of all his family. The others are all so jealous, it makes me laugh so much! The hierarchy is good for them. It makes them work to be more like him. Gives them a little ferocity of their own. Nothing to match my Carver… my mean little Carver, with those cold sharp teeth… of all of them, he is the most like me. Shouldn’t he deserve the best for that?”

musical-in-theory asked: Is Marvin back to being Marvin again?

You find him lying on the island, sitting across from Red. They’re watching each other with a cool wariness, unsure of where they stand.

“I’m not sure who I am,” says Red’s brother finally, glancing over at you with a grimace on his exhausted mouth. A cut on his forehead drips a little blood as he turns. Red moves forward, as though to brush it away, on instinct - but before his twin even notices the movement, he has drawn his hand back and recoiled on himself, crossing his arms over his chest, blushing in the low light. He has re-bandaged his head himself.

musical-in-theory asked: You are Marvin the Magnificent. A smart man with a deeper understanding of things. A man who carved out his own place in the world. A man who never needed a master.

Marvin blinks, looking up. “Hey!” he laughs. “Who told you that? I’ve heard those words before! Someone who loved me - ”

The camera is snatched off its spot on the ground and thrown several feet off, leaving your view crooked and fizzing.

“You’re going to get him killed!” cries Red, and his voice breaks right down the middle. He could scream for the pain of his own weakness. “Stop, stop! Can’t you just let him go, and then things will be easier on him! What, you’re crying out now, trying to stop this now? It’s too late, don’t you understand? Where were you when I was shattering, huh? You call out for him! You don’t know anything! I can’t - ”

He stops himself short, startled by the look of fear in Marvin’s eyes.

“Jackie,” he whispers.

“I - ” Red’s voice shakes, he retreats to his corner. “Don’t goddamn say that name. Fuck, I wish you had never come here. I wish you had gone free, I don’t care if we spent the rest of our lives searching without ever finding you. I don’t need you, you know… Anti acts like I do, but I don’t. I don’t want you.”

He curls in on himself, panting; his body hurts him, his body always hurts him and he’s tired. He wishes hatred hurt less. Breathless, he turns to look at Trick and Doktor, curled up side by side, crying softly in the darkness. He does not know why and he does not care. He sees them cry often, and chances are only one of them was hurting - or only one of them would be hurting, if he didn’t care about the other.

“Twins are just weakness,” he cries, reaching up to grip at his hair. “I don’t want to feel sorry for you! I don’t want to feel scared and miserable for you! I don’t need another person to feed, I don’t need someone to be reliant on! I’m stronger alone! And if you’re not careful, I’m going to have to watch you die. I don’t want your pain! I wish you had never come here!”

Marvin has edged in close to him, calling “Red, Red,” and maybe there’s some truth to his words, because the truth is seeing him in pain makes him feel like his own chest is on fire. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Not okay,” whispers Red, sinking down against his cupboards. “Don’t touch me, no - don’t touch me, I don’t want you, I don’t need you…”

“We were brothers once already,” chokes Marvin. “And, fuck, there were times that it hurt, but I can promise you - I swear to you, I swear - it was always, always, always worth it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’ve been alone so long. But, I mean - you’re not now. I don’t plan to stay, but… I don’t plan to leave you, either. I promise that. I promise. And this brotherhood is always worth it.”

Red sits in silence for a long time, his eyes closed, his head on his knees, hiding his face.

“Life is different here, Marvin,” he whispers. “Stop believing in anything that ever made you happy. There’s only Anti now.”

Marvin puts a hand on his knee. Red takes his wrist, gentle, gentle in his cold scarred hand, and he pushes him away.

“There’s only Anti now.”

They fall asleep pressed against opposite sides of the island, huddled in on themselves, silent.

loganandoli asked: Carver. You need to trust me. Push Poe out, now. I know you won’t want to, but please. Please. For her and your safety, push her out and close the window. They told him.

Carver turns to you, stunned. “Push Poe out? Push her - told him! Who would tell him, they wouldn’t tell - ”

His head whips around at the familiar sound of Anti’s static growing in volume. He stares between you and the bird, who picks playfully at his ear, cawing. “I don’t - I don’t want her to go,” he stammers out, tears rising hot in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose my bird, my bird. What if she never comes back? She’ll be like my brothers and hate me. What if I never see her again? What if I’m just up here alone forever? Why won’t master let me keep anyone?”

Anonymous asked: It's all right, Carver, we'll keep you company!!! Now let the bird go!!!

You don’t know if he trusts you enough or if he’s just that afraid of Anti, but one way or another, he stands up on his bed and reaches up to close the window, shoving Poe out into the air. She gives an indignant cry, harsh and berating, and tries to land again, but there isn’t enough space to her feet. She wings away.

Carver stands on his bed, panting, staring out into the air after her.

“Hey, little man, what’re you up to?”

Anti stands in the doorway, his hand shoved into hoodie pockets. Flushed red, Carver turns to him with a trembling mouth, his eyes full of tears.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” murmurs Anti, instantly a picture of concern, moving forward to grab his hands and pull him to sit down on the bed beside him. He plays anxiously with a strand of Carver’s hair, touching his face gently. He glances around the room, but doesn’t see anything moving around. If Dapper has an animal here, he’ll find it and kill it violently enough that he’ll regret hiding it. If not, then he’s distressed enough already for one night. “Hey, hey, look at me. What’s wrong? You feel okay?”

Sniffling, Carver glances over at him, then up at the window, and then - exhausted, exhausted, exhausted, he tumbles against Anti’s chest and begins to cry in earnest, clutching onto Anti.

Clutching onto the only person he is ever allowed to hold on to.

Posted the next morning:

Dawn breaks cold over Doktor and Trick, wrapped up in blankets. It’s getting too late in the season for them to keep warm with their nest and jackets alone, but at least Trick has fallen asleep curled in Doktor’s lap, keeping him warm after their fight.

Red and Blue sleep across from each other, neither making use of the sleeping bag, a tension fallen between them. Red’s bandages have begun bleeding again during the night and he will have a pounding headache when he wakes.

Upstairs, Dapper has not slept. He lies in his bed in Anti’s arms, staring quietly at the wall. Today is one of his confusion days, which might come out as anger, grief, or a desperate, slightly insane sort of boredom.

Anti wakes up and kisses the side of his head, noticing his mood immediately and leaving him to his distress. He takes the rope off his throat and leaves a clean outfit - sweatpants and a t-shirt with a big black coat - on the bed. Moving downstairs, he greets Dok with a cluck of his chin and then shakes his twin awake.

“Want you to go into town today,” he says.

Trick sits up straight, wide-eyed, disoriented from sleep. “M-me? I thought I was only allowed to go to the laundromat - Red is usually the one who goes to the store, I - ”

Anti puts a finger on his mouth, silencing him, and then digs into his pocket, pulling out a huge wad of cash. He shoves it into Trick’s coat. “Red’s still not well. You go. Get food. And something nice, pick out something nice for all your brothers. Or Red and Dok and Dap and yourself, at least. I’ll get Blue what he needs on my own. Spend it all, Trick, I don’t want to carry it around anymore. Understand?”

Trick’s eyes are alight with joy. He nods enthusiastically, his mouth shaking around the words “are you sure?” just to double check.

Anti hums and runs a hand through his hair, brushing a curl out of his eyes. “Course, Stammer, I know you’ll do well. You’ve been good lately.”

“Can I bring Dok?”

“Sure, just don’t draw attention to yourselves. No names, no nationalities, no talk of home where anyone can hear it.”

Trick is panting slightly with relief. He nods, and for a second he reaches out, as though to touch Anti in return, maybe looking for a hug or at least to brush his hand along his sleeve, but he thinks better of it, his hand falling fearfully. Anti gives him affection anyway, leaning in to kiss his cheek and ruffling his hair playfully. “We’ll have a quiet day today, Alright? Okay, be good. Bye, Trick.”

“Bye, Anti,” whisper Trick, with reverence, watching as his brother disappears.

There’s a long silence.

“Fuck yeah!” cries Doktor, and Trick lets out a loud, bursting laugh, and tumbles back onto his brother’s lap, holding up the cash, delighted.

Anonymous asked: well little stammer, what are you going to do with all that? (theres no record with cash, so you could even get stuff anti doesn't want you to have :0)

Trick flushes slightly at the nickname and you see Doktor’s eyes narrow, but Trick is already sorting through the cash again. “Well, first - first priority is food, yeah? And the first aid kit - Dok, will you go see what we need? What else, um… is there anything else we need? Maybe new clothes, if anything’s left over? More soap, we’re getting low…”

He pauses, seeming to register the second half of your question, his cheeks reddening. He glances up at you and down at the cash several times, but doesn’t say anything, memories of hunger and cold stirring in the back of his head.

loganandoli asked: Trick!! What do you think you’ll get everyone? And what are your favorite foods? :)

“Um, um, what will I get everyone?”

He’s more excited than you’ve ever seen him, pacing around his nest, combing his hair with his fingers. “I have to pick things out, don’t I? I’ll have to see what’s in town, um. Oh, I could get Dok a whole coat, a whole winter coat… and gloves, maybe, for when he has to do his - for when Anti needs him. A book! Holy shit, a book, he hasn’t had a new one in weeks!”

He grins, fantasizing. “My favorite foods, wow… I like, um, those chocolate granola bars and mandarin oranges and… well, a bunch of junk food, we don’t need all that… and nothing that we’ll have to cook, really. But I can get maybe some chips or good bread. Could really go for a drink, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. What else?”

He glances over at the island and up at the ceiling. “Fuck, I have no idea what they want,” he frowns. He turns to you. “Any ideas for Red and Dapper?”

immabethehero asked: If Dapper still has his moustache, what about a moustache grooming set? For Red, a new red hoodie for the winter! For Blue, magic cards!

“Haha, okay, that’s pretty good! We have knives for shaving but I like the new hood!”

loganandoli asked: Oh!! Get dapper some markers or charcoals! Or even a stuffed animal! (maybe a bird? He seems to like those)

“A stuffed animal for the baby!” teases Trick, grinning to himself. “Spoiled pet. You’re right, though, he likes animals.”

He pauses for a second, the smirk fading from his mouth. For a second, he almost looks like he’s in pain.

“I think he always liked animals… I think we used to… no, I don’t remember…”

oasisofgalaxies asked: Dapper may really love a sketchbook and pencil set! Don’t forget a sharpener and eraser! Anon added: you could get dap some new chalks/colored pencils! I’m sure he’d love that

“Oh, okay, yeah! Sounds like he’s kind of an artist, fuck. I guess that’s what he’s doing up there all day, huh? Okay, art shit for Dapper, that’s good. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: dapper wants pens and charcoal to keep him busy. anything you can get red for his pain would help too

“Hmm,” nods Trick, thinking. “Something for his pain, shit, yeah. Okay, I’ll look!”

Anonymous asked: Are you going to have enough money to buy all you want/need? I don't know, this seems a little bit too easy...

“I’ve got…” Trick flips through his cash. “2,400 krone.” He bites his lip and looks up at you, slightly stressed. “I don’t know how many pounds that is. It seems like a lot. I need - I need to make sure I get everything Anti wants, or I could get in trouble. Red usually does this. Food, presents, soap, clothes - is there anything else we need? I need to get everything.”

Anonymous asked: Do you look presentable enough to be in public? Wouldn't want to catch too much attention, now do we?

“Good point,” agrees Doktor, returning to his brother. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

They don’t have mirrors, but they do have twins. Trick needs to shave, so they go outside and Doktor pulls a long sharp knife out of his coat, holding it up to his face. For a second, Trick can’t help but flinch, reaching up to grab his brother’s wrist. Doktor stops immediately. They meet each other’s eyes.

“Is okay,” mumbles Dok, using his spare hand to touch his shoulder. Just gentle.

Trick swallows the sensation of tears, nodding, letting his wrist go. He knows the difference between the brother who loves him and the one who can’t recognize him as anything other than one of his victims.

Doktor’s eyes are sorry. They talked about what happened. He wishes he could say yesterday was the first time he has looked around him and seen nothing but violence, the first time he has woken up holding a knife or a scalpel or a syringe that he doesn’t remember grabbing, but the truth is he’s often confused, and more than once he’s hurt himself or somebody he shouldn’t have. It haunts him. He doesn’t like to admit that it happens. Sometimes he doesn’t tell Trick, and sometimes he forgets the episodes once they’ve happened, but one way or another, he is cognizant of the fact that there’s something wrong with him, and the fact that that something could be harmful to his brother is a nightmare becoming a reality for him.

He shaves Trick’s beard down carefully, carefully, holding his chin in his hands. Trick closes his eyes.

They wash their faces with washcloths and water and change clothes - somewhere in their blanket huddle, there are t-shirts and pants, which they share indiscriminately, most of their personal style having blurred into necessity and apathy a long time ago. Dok puts a bandage over a particularly nasty scar on Trick’s hand, they both tug on their jackets, Dok pulls a scarf out of his pocket, they tuck weapons safely away, push their trackers beneath their sleeves, brush through their hair, and finally turn to look at each other, checking that they could pass for normal in the city.

“We’re okay?” asks Trick without words.

“We’re okay,” answers Dok with a smile.

“Okay,” sighs Trick, grinning and shoving the cash in his pockets. “Anything else, or are we ready to go?”

There is a low thumping coming from upstairs. Red and Blue are still asleep. Anti is nowhere you can see him.

spicydanhowell asked: carver? you okay up there?

The connection’s still up, but he hasn’t touched the camera. You can only see the empty bed, the clean clothes still draped over the unmade sheets.

loganandoli asked: Carver? Are you ok??

There’s no movement on the video feed, just the thumping noise, steady, steady. Downstairs, you see Doktor glance up, a frown twisting his mouth.

“Okay, ready to head out?” asks Trick, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and holding a second one out for Dok.

“Umm.” Dok accepts the backpack without looking, listening for the thumping noise. It’s clearly not the sound of him fainting. Should be okay…

loganandoli asked: Doktor, Carver isn’t answering us. I know you are not aloud to go up to check on him, so should we ask Anti to check on him?

“Oh, I - I am allowed up there. Only to check on him, but I am allowed. He’s not answering? I should go check on him.”

Trick whines, reaching out to grab his brother’s sleeve. “Dok, no! I hate it when you go up there! Anti might get angry anyway, if it turns out that he’s fine, that you went up there for nothing. Besides, Anti’s home, or at least he didn’t tell us he was leaving. Let him handle his little pet, don’t go up there. This is supposed to be a day out, when was the last time we were allowed to go into town? Come on, bro.”

“Trick,” sighs Dok, stepping back from him. “Just real quick, alright? It’s my job to look after everyone in the house.”

Gritting his teeth, Trick shakes his head, snatching his sleeve again, a sort of desperation in his eyes. Frustrated now, Doktor pulls away. “What, you want me to just leave him? He could be hurting!”

“That brat has everything he wants up there!”

“You don’t know that! When was the last time you even saw him, Trick?”

“Just the other day!”

“Yes, when Anti was dragging him into the goddamn basement! Is that what spoiled looks like to you, or are you just jealous that Anti hasn’t let you sleep in the same bed as him since the first time you called him your master? Why do you hate the little one so much? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you should give a fuck about anyone other than yourself and me?”

He doesn’t realize his voice has risen to a shout until he’s stopped yelling. Trick stares at him, wide-eyed, mouth trembling. Blinking, Dok sees Blue’s head rising above the island, his eyes wide and confused. “Why are you fighting?” he asks, sleepy and confused. “What’s that thumping?”

Flushed, Doktor turns away from his twin and heads towards the stairs. “Deutsch!” cries Trick, remembering all too vividly Blue’s body crashing down those stairs.

“Enough, Trick.” Doktor makes his way up the stairs, taking a steadying breath at the top, but nothing comes to drag him away. Turning the corner, he enters Dapper and Anti’s room.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He steps gently in, looking around, glancing under the bed, opening the door to the bathroom -

“Oh, darling, stop, stop,” he whispers, rushing in to grab Dapper off the floor, dragging his head away from the leg of a broken claw-foot tub, where he has been striking his forehead hard enough to dampen his hair red. “Oh, poor thing, poor thing.”

All his anger, all his caution, all his resentment for the boy is gone. He holds him in his arms and tries to get him to respond, staring down at the glassy grey eyes as his head goes thump, thump, thump against the doctor’s arm.

Anonymous asked: carver stop hitting your head please? you're okay. everything's going to be okay

Carver whimpers wearily, curling in slightly on Doktor, seeming to register the presence of another living thing. He waits for the shock and the heat of Anti’s flesh, but… it never comes.

“You’re okay,” whispers Dok, rocking him gently. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Dapper stares numbly up at him, trying to understand.

“It’s me, it’s Dok,” he murmurs, suddenly very aware of just how long it’s been since they interacted while the little one was conscious. Fuck, he remembers so little about him. He could have sworn there was more, but, now, Dapper is hardly more than the noises in the attic and the safety net that Anti returns to at the end of every day. “I’m your big brother.”

Dapper breathes stickily, knocking his head against his knee. “Stop this, now,” murmurs Dok, taking his head in his hands. “You’re okay. Just a little out of sorts, huh? Sometimes I get like that too… sometimes I lose track of everything.”

Carver nods, processing slowly the shared sentiment. He speaks so softly, with that nice warm accent. Carver can’t remember the last time anyone but Anti spoke to him - let alone touched him.

Wait, no, he can… there was a boy with charcoal and long hair, reaching out to him, smiling on the stairs…

“Did you take your medicine this morning?” asks Doktor gently, brushing the hair from his eyes. Swallowing, Dapper shakes his head no.

Leaving him on his side on the bathroom floor, Doktor gets up to get his prescription out of the bedside drawer, pouring two tiny white pills into his hand and returning to him. Carver instantly curls back up against him, gripping plaintively at his hands.

“Here, here,” murmurs Dok, helping him sit up. He presses the medicine to his mouth and Dapper takes them in his mouth with a groan, knowing better than to refuse his pills.

“What’s going on here?”

Doktor’s head jerks up, his body suddenly shaking as he registers Anti’s presence behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Master,” he gasps. “Scared me, Anti. He was hitting his poor head, look.”

Anti blinks, disconcerted, reaching down to brush his hand over his youngest boy’s hair. Dapper stares wearily up at him, expecting little pity, but, whether it be the blood on his head or the attempts Anti is making to keep them all happy as he breaks in Blue, he seems concerned. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, stroking his eyelids with his thumb. Dapper closes his eyes obediently. “Dok, what’s wrong? His medicine isn’t working.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Anti,” sighs Doktor, leaning back against his chest as his big brother sinks to his knees beside him. He takes any chance at comfort he can get. “He’s just…”

Doktor trails off, biting his lip.

“What?”

Doktor winces, trying to pick safe words.

“Deutsch,” mumbles Anti, putting an arm around him to rub his shoulder. “Sprich mit mir.”

“Anti, he’s bored. He doesn’t have enough to do up here.”

“Aren’t you and Trick going to get him some pencils and things?”

“Yes, we - ” Doktor blinks, trying to remember when he told Anti that. “We are, but he’s still stuck in this room all day, and he - I don’t know how often you’re here but - he’s lonely, Anti.”

Dapper hides his face against his stomach. Words like these he does not dare speak aloud.

Anti stares down at his little one, stroking his hair. His face is quiet and thoughtful.

“You’ve been good lately,” he murmurs.

“Yes, Anti,” replies Dok softly.

“You’re steady. Reliable. You do as I tell you. Take care of Trick. Keep the others functioning.”

“Yes, Anti, I do.”

Anti looks up at him. Brushes a strand of hair away from his broken glasses.

“Take Dap with you,” he says. “Take Dap with you into town. I won’t risk him snapping again.”

Anonymous asked: Aight, nobody get separated! Buddy system plus one!

Doktor watches Anti go, biting his lip. Once he’s disappeared, he turns to you with a deep exasperation in his eyes. “Trick will not like this,” he groans, running a hand over his face.

Someone squeezing his other hand brings him back to Dapper, who is staring up at him with a cautious, hopeful sort of confusion in his eyes. He’s not sure he heard Anti right…

Doktor sighs and gets up, reaching down to help the boy to his feet. He’s shaky and still a little distant, but he’s responding better and better with every moment that passes. “Well… Dapper.” Feels weird to call him by his name. “Would you like to go into town?”

Dapper stares at him.

“To town?” he signs.

“Yes.”

“Downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“Outside?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“And Anti said… that… I could?”

“You heard him as well as I did. You just have to stay close to me.”

Dapper stares at him.

“Dapper,” says Doktor flatly, frowning.

“Anti said I could go?”

“Yeah!”

“To town? Downstairs? Out - ”

Doktor sighs and grabs his wrist, leading him towards the door. “Put your clothes on and let’s go,” he says, turning around.

Confused, Dapper obeys, checking to make sure Doktor doesn’t turn to look at him, his hands scrabbling at his scars. He tugs on his pants and the t-shirt Anti got him - oh, it was a Shiba Inu on it! - and then throws on the coat, hurrying to follow Doktor into the hall.

“Doktor!” cries Trick, pacing anxiously at the bottom of the stairs. “Dok, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, um. Just - we’re, um. Trick, we’re taking Dapper into town.”

And with those words, it somehow becomes true in Dapper’s head. Panting with relief, he sets foot on the stairs -

And then he’s running.

Down the stairs, past the other boys, through the door, outside.

Outside, outside, outside!

He begins to laugh, kicking leaves into the air. What does it matter that the other puppets stare at him, that Trick and Dok are arguing behind him?

It’s been two months since he left the house.

Anonymous asked: What did you do the last time you were out of the house, Dapper?

Dapper grins up at you, his eyes almost wildly bright. He processes your question and his face twists up slightly with fear. “Anti didn’t come home,” he says. “First try or second try or third try, Anti didn’t come home. I went after him. Made sure he came home. And before that - the plane, and the running, the running away. But then we were here. Now we are here. Right? This is now? I’m outside? We’re going to town!”

He flips a cartwheel like a kid and laughs as he makes the birds fly up into the air. “Hopefully today is a better day than those days were.”

Anonymous asked: trick, you better not argue. it's what anti wants. but doktor you should probably hold onto him tight so he doesn't run off or get hurt

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” whimpers Trick, turning to you, chewing on the nail of his thumb. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand. He never lets Dapper go.”

“Trick,” sighs Dok, grabbing his sleeve and leading him towards the door. “Come on, don’t be so stressed! It will still be fun, yes? Come on, brother mine.”

“This is a trap!” shrieks Trick, yanking against his grip. “This is a trap! This - this isn’t right!”

Red sits upright, startling them all with the realization that he’s awake.

“Here’s something that’s not a trap,” he shouts. “If you don’t shut the hell up and get out of the house so I can fucking sleep, I’m going to dump your body in the ocean. Got me, Trickshot?”

Trick flushes red, his mouth open but no words coming out. Then he flees out the door, Doktor following quick behind him.

“This is fine,” he mumbles. “This is fine. Okay, okay. You’re right. I have to look after him. I have to keep them functioning. I should hold onto him, I - Dap?”

Dapper turns towards him, beaming. Doktor snatches his hand and pulls him closer, and Dapper is happy to go, squeezing his fingers tightly. Trick is hurrying along the path before them, panting.

“Let’s just calm down,” calls Dok, coming carefully after him with Dapper beside him. “Let’s stay calm, you know how you get when you’re too stressed. Come on, Trick! Nice calm walk, okay? Nice calm walk.”

Anonymous asked: Damn it, what did I just say? Dapper, I know you're excited but be mindful of the others okay? Stay close!

Dapper flushes, flinching slightly away from you, clinging to Dok’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he signs, moving closer to his brother. “Okay, yes. I will stay close, I can be good. Will you tell Anti if I’m good? So I can go out again?”

Anonymous asked: does... does anti purposefully lead you into situations where you're forced to disobey him and be punished? is that why you're afraid, trick?

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” sobs Trick. “No, no, no, that’s not what that was! I must have heard him wrong that day! And then - then Dapper couldn’t redo it, or - It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault! He wouldn’t - he wouldn’t trick me… he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t…. I just heard him wrong. I just heard him wrong. It’s my fault. Why would he punish me if I didn’t do anything wrong? So I must have done something wrong. I must have, I must have. It’s my fault. Don’t say things like that, no, no.”

He grips at the bandage over the scar on his hand, trembling. “No, no, no… I didn’t mean to be bad…”

“Trick!” Doktor calls on the path behind him. “Stop, dammit! Can you slow down?”

Flinching, Trick stops short, like his obedience is a tangible thing holding him to his older brother. Doktor catches up to him with the boy holding onto his hand, and a rush of jealousy cuts through Trick’s distress.

“He shouldn’t have come,” he cries, whirling on them. “He shouldn’t - ”

“Trick!”

Doktor’s hand is on his shoulder. “Trick, Trick. Just… just breathe.”

He pulls Trick under his shoulder. For a second, he feels no different from Anti - but Doktor, unlike Anti, is not laughing at him.

“It’s okay,” murmurs Doktor, knocking their heads gently together. “It’s okay. Nice calm walk, right? Nice calm walk. Don’t think about that night.”

Trick stares at the forest floor, crying quietly, ashamed and angry. But at least he’s with Doktor.

“And we’re going into town,” soothes Dok. “You were excited just a few minutes ago. Yes? So let’s go back to that. No stress right now. Just going to town. Nice, slow, quiet walk. Okay?”

Trick swallows hard. He’s right, really. He doesn’t want to ruin this for Doktor. He’s going to get him a coat and maybe new glasses… something for Red, so he gets off his back… and even the kid doesn’t seem so scary now, staring in awe at the world around him, clinging to Deutsch’s hand…

“Okay,” he whispers, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

It takes forty minutes to walk to town.

It’s pretty out and the leaves are falling in red and gold around the trees. The town is an old town, a small town, a quiet town, with cobbled streets and tiny shops with foreign writing on top.

“There’s the shop,” says Dok, letting Trick out from under his arm. “You know what you need to get?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay then,” grins Dok, stepping back behind his little brother. “Lead the way, my friend.”

And Trick, gripping the cash in his hands, smiles right back.

spicydanhowell asked: (psst dok. wipe the blood off his head before you go into the store)

“Oh, scheisse! Good point.” Dok turns to Dap and pulls out a smaller canteen from his pocket, tugging Dapper’s head slightly down and washing out his hair. “I should have bandaged this, I’m sorry.”

But Dapper just has his eyes closed, enjoying having his hair touched.

Truth be told, Doktor’s surprised to find him so gentle. Most of his memories of Carver are stained heavily in blood.

“How did you manage to hit your head so hard?” asks Doktor, trying to sound nonchalant. “You were doing it because you wanted to hurt yourself, or just bored?”

Dapper looks up, his eyes cloudy. He reaches up softly to touch his head.

“Did I do that to myself?”

Trick is waiting for them expectantly by the door. Doktor sighs and takes Dap’s hand, heading after him. “We don’t have to worry about that right now.”

Anonymous asked: whiskey? cigarettes? do you need infant formula or- oops, forget i said that :)

Trick blinks as he enters the store, his mouth falling slightly open. “Why would I need that?” he mumbles, trying to keep from looking like he’s talking to himself. “Oh, I get it, you’re teasing Dap? That’s funny.”

He gets a basket and starts picking up the things they need - food, soap, cough drops, gauze, vitamins, iodine. Turning around, he always finds Dap and Dok close to hand, and makes sure to shoot Dapper a few warning glares, hating the sight of his hand in Doktor’s and his kiddish delight with everything in the store. Dapper always cowers away from his looks, but Trick’s not about to fall into his sweet, innocent little kid trap. He scowls and turns back to his shopping.

“Look at this,” Doktor laughs, examining some foreign cookies with funny faces on them. Dapper grins and pulls away from him, wandering the aisle with a soft smile on his face. Trick’s relieved. He turns back to his basket, trying to focus.

And he’s still thinking about those fucking words.

Whiskey, why would he need whiskey? Henrik has disinfectant. He’s not allowed to drink. No one asked for it. He doesn’t need it.

Cigarettes, as if. He hates those fucking things - the nasty smell of the cancerous smoke, the taste of a kiss coated in tar, still sweet despite the poison, because it was her mouth and he loved her -

He bites down hard on his lip, staring at the shelves in the aisle before him, surrounding him with baby supplies.

Sippy cups. Pacifiers with monkeys or bears in tutus on them. Shampoo, sweet-smelling baby shampoo, warm and familiar, wafting. Rows of diapers with chubby, smiling infants patterned along the green boxes. Tiny outfits, tiny shoes, tiny socks in different patterns. Monitors, tubs, hygiene products, wipes, toys -

He’s stopped in front of the toys, shaking.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s just standing here, motionless in aisle six, staring at the toddler toys.

This feeling is familiar to him, though he wishes it wasn’t. The feeling that his heart is trying to benchpress a lot more weight than it can carry, that his lungs have gotten a fight with his ribs and made friends with his backbone instead, that his whole body is one great vessel of this terrible, terrible agony - the feeling that something is gone from him that he loved more than anything else that has ever drawn breath on the face of the earth.

He chokes. Sobs. Puts a shaking hand on his chest. No, no, why is he always so weak? He has to keep it together. He can’t keep crying so much. Everyone must think he’s so pathetic. No matter what he does, so pathetic. He’s never enough to earn any love. Never enough to have back what he wants, what he wants, this terrible ghost of a love he can’t remember, the wonderful warmth in his arms -

A hand touches his.

He jolts hard, recoiling.

Dapper falls back too, his hand drawing away.

His eyes are large and worried. His eyes are intelligent. Trick feels that he is staring a fox in the face.

“Why upset?” signs Dapper, tilting his head at him.

Trick backs off, panting, and lets out a sharp snapping scoff, turning his teary eyes away, fixating again on the toys in front of him. His eyes lock on a little sheet of crinkle paper and he sticks with it, trying not to cry. He won’t cry in front of Dapper. Won’t prove to him that he is better than Trick in every way.

Dapper reaches slowly forward and pulls the crinkle paper off the shelf. He holds it out to Trick.

Biting his lip to blood, Trick accepts it.

“It’s okay,” signs Dapper gently. “I think little kid stuff is really cute too.”

“Yeah,” chokes Trick, squeezing the paper in his hands. It has whales on it. “Yeah, cute.”

Dapper smiles and steps back, turning around to go find Doktor again. It is only after he is out of sight that Trick realizes he knew he was not crying because of the cuteness of the baby aisle. He gave him a chance to save face.

He should be grateful, but he’s mostly ashamed.

With shaking hands, he sets the crinkle paper in his basket.

There’s my gift for myself, he reasons, rubbing at his eyes. Now I need to get things for my brothers.

florenceisfalling asked: chase, why aren't you allowed to drink? and oh- what's doktor looking at now?

“Well, it’s not good for you to drink, you get sick and addicted and then you can’t function and shit - fuck, what is he looking at?”

Trick moves forward again and looks back at the last aisle, managing a grin at the sight of Dok happily shuffling through a bin of discount books. “How about this one?” asks Doktor, wheeling on him.

“What is it?”

“Thornton Wilder.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard the name so he’s probably famous. It’s 10 krone.”

“Fucking bargain. Get it.”

Dok beams, hurrying forward with the book clutched under one arm. He grabs Trick’s free hand and Trick tries to smile back at him, without much success.

“How about a coat for you?” suggests Trick.

“Oh, I’d rather get a coat for you.”

“My jacket is thicker than yours. We’ll get you one.”

“Gloves, at least, for you.”

“If we have money.”

“Red said I could get you gloves. That means you have to.”

Trick sighs, a small smile flickering over his mouth. “Okay, fine. Dapper, stay with us, we’re moving. Just a few more things before we head home.”

Anonymous asked: Dapper, how are you enjoying being outside the house! What's your favorite part? How's seeing your brothers again?

“I like it, I like it, I like it! I am a little scared because I don’t understand why Anti said I can go and usually only lets me out of the house for my chore, and he didn’t tell me if I need to do my chore today or not.” You notice that his hands, and even his smiling mouth, are trembling, but he still looks happy and bright-eyed. “My favorite part is probably when we were walking around, because I haven’t seen any trees but the ones right outside my window for a long time, and there were different trees today, and I liked them. I hope we will see a dog today! And seeing my brothers is - ”

He glances up at Trick and Dok, walking hand-in-hand in front of him.

“Well, Trick is not different from what I expected, but Doktor - ”

Dapper is suddenly wiping miserably at his eyes, a darkness returned to his face. “Well, Doktor doesn’t actively hate me, so… better than I thought. I really like having someone to touch other than Anti… I know that sounds stupid.”

“Hey, Carver,” calls Doktor, and Dapper hurries after him, reaching his side to find him standing in the school supplies section, complete with notebooks, pencils, and art supplies. “You want to pick something out?”

Dapper’s eyes widen. He stares at the pencils and paper for a long time. Doktor waits patiently, watching him with analysis in physician’s eyes, concerned with the boy’s erraticism. Finally, Dapper reaches out with shaky hands to take a small pack of charcoals and a big sketchbook with a windmill on the cover. 200 krone total. Not bad, Doktor figures, for a man trapped in a single room all day, every day.

“Come on, then,” says Doktor, reaching out a hand, and Dapper, smiling sweetly, reaches out to take it.

spicydanhowell asked: hey if you guys bought a coat for one of you, the other could wear both jackets at once? then you'll both be warm. (but also dok... why do you cover the scar on trick's hand? what happened to him?)

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” admits Trick, picking a pack of nice black gloves off a rack near the back of the store. “Sometimes Anti takes clothes away if we’re not using them enough or he gets tired of them, but maybe we could. That would be warmer, especially at night. It’s getting so cold.”

He blinks down at his hand as Doktor comes up behind him, adding neosporin to the basket. “We cover that up because, um… people have noticed it before.”

“It’s ugly,” Trick snaps, tired of mincing words. “Looks like my skin’s fucking tree bark. Disgusting-ass burn.”

“Hey,” snaps Dok, snatching his hand out of the air. “What have I told you about putting yourself down like that?”

“What, like it matters?” growls Trick, gripping at his hair. Doktor recognizes anguish in his movements and frowns, reaching out to touch his face, but Trick only shoves away from him, clutching at his crinkle paper, reassuring under his fingers.

“You want to hear about that night, do you?” he snaps, glaring at his scar. “I was just trying to keep us warm! It’s not my fault! Anti said to look after them while he was away and they - they were so cold!”

Tears spark in his eyes and he backs away.

“Enough,” demands Doktor, shoving the camera away from him. “Enough, let’s speak no more of this.”

“I didn’t mean to disobey,” whispers Trick, holding his own burned, scarred fingers in his hand. “I just didn’t want you to freeze… he told me to look after you…”

Anonymous asked: anti burned you? that doesn't sound like a loving brother

Trick flushes bright red, staring at you.

He glances down at his hand. Back up again. Down at his hand.

“Well,” he whispers, curling his hand into his chest. “Maybe that’s because Anti doesn’t love me.”

Uncurls his hand. Curls his hand. Stares at his hand.

“Not like he loves the others.”

His fingers were so burned he couldn’t move the hand at all for three weeks. Try handling a sniper like that. He earned plenty of abuse for his inability to do what he was supposed to, too, and every time, he faced it with more confusion, more distress. He was trying his best, he promised, he promised.

“Anti’s too good for me, really… I’m just the little fuck-up of the family. I know he doesn’t love me like the others, but… at least he keeps me, right?”

His hand opens, trembling.

“I started a fire,” he whispers. “To keep Doktor and Dapper warm, while Red and Anti were away on a mission. We were staying in this warehouse… it was January and freezing. Anti didn’t like the smoke. When he got back, he told me to put it out with my bare hands… so I did. Better a burn than what he would have done to me otherwise. And I was such a baby about it too. Couldn’t s-stop crying. He was so - he was so - so angry - so - so - ”

Trick snarls and backs away, angered by his own stammer. Ashamed. Clutching his hand to his chest.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he chokes out. “As long as Anti keeps me. I don’t think that I’ll ever earn his love. But at least he hasn’t thrown me out and taken my brothers away from me. I wouldn’t survive it.”

spicydanhowell asked: is red going to like what you all picked out? if i know him, he'd probably be mad if you forgot something... (also i think he has a thing for peanut butter so that might sate his rage a bit. ;) he seemed angry this morning.)

“Oh, peanut butter!” Doktor’s glancing around the store, trying to figure out if they forgot something. “Good idea, good protein! Let’s put one of these fruit cans back and get that instead. And I think he’ll like these?”

Doktor holds up a pair of good running sneakers, cheap but stylish, with blue laces and a white-grey pattern. “Not too expensive, either. They’re off-brand of course.”

“Not like Trick’s,” he adds, puffing up a little, grinning proudly at you. “He’s got real Converse. He loves those things. But Red, I suppose, needs some running shoes too.” He shrugs with fake modesty, grinning,

“Having money for once is going to your head,” grumbles Trick from an aisle away, and Doktor laughs.

immabethehero asked: Hey Anti! 🖕 Bitch. 🖕

Your cameras back home have lost connection, but the boys at the store hear you. Trick sighs and rolls his eyes, rubbing at his face. He wishes he could keep it together for a single day, but here they are. “They don’t have anything to say, let’s go,” he grumbles, heading towards the register, where a portly, cheerful-looking old woman is offering a smaller child a coloring book to play with on the counter.

“We got everything?” asks Dok.

“Present for me, present for Dap, present for Red. Food, all the medicine stuff you asked for. Got your coat?”

Doktor holds it up proudly. It’s green and thick, with faux fur on the big comfy hood, good for sleeping on. It’ll fall all the way to the backs of his knees. 370 krone. The most expensive thing they’re buying, by far, but worth it. Trick feels a rush of pride. It’s been a long time since he was able to get anything for anyone, let alone something nice for the person he loves more than anyone he remembers in the whole world.

Well, not more than Anti, obviously. “Let’s just check out,” he says, flustered.

The child on the counter ignores them as they unload their basket, cheerfully coloring in a picture of a storm trooper. Trick gazes at the gun in its hand while Doktor tries clumsily to make conversation with the woman at the counter. They usually pretend to be German when they’re out, so Doktor’s doing his best to make himself understood, while she only speaks a few words. She’s polite, though - interested, patient, friendly. She gives Dapper a big smile and he gives her a big smile back. Trick wonders idly if his little brother is always this friendly, even with the people he’s sent after - until, of course, he pulls out a knife. He’s a good little actor, he thinks, glaring over at him. Dapper blushes and looks away, scooting a little closer to Doktor.

Their total is close to 2000 krone, and Trick is so flooded with relief he almost faints. He’d been keeping track of the cost, of course, but he can’t help but always expect that something will go wrong. He counts out the cash quickly, smiling at the woman, who looks a little concerned at his enthusiasm. She pats his hand when he’s given it over with a comforting little smile and he tries not to flinch away, his burned fingers coiling up in his palm.

“Takk,” he says, grinning as he and his brothers scoop up their groceries and start shoving things in their backpacks. Doktor pulls the coat on and Trick beams.

“Takk,” answer the cashier and her grandchild, and then laugh at their synchronization, waving them goodbye. Trick is warmed by the fondness between them, by the presence of his brother, by the bags full of food and medicine and everything they need.

“That is everything we need, right?” he asks as they get outside.

“Umm,” says Doktor, thinking. Glancing around, he spots a pharmacy, a little tourist shop, a boat rental place, a fish and chips place, and a playground. “I think so? Is it?”

“We can’t forget something, Dok. Anti won’t like it.”

“I know. But I can’t remember if we need something else?”

“Well, we’ve still got like… 400 krone. Anti told us to spend it…”

Trick crinkles the cash in his hands, biting his lip. “So we…. could do that.”

Doktor glances at him, surprised, but he doesn’t say anything.

“We could… spend it if we wanted. Or… well, we could spend it. On something we need, if we can think of anything. Or, well. It’s midday, we haven’t eaten yet.” He glances over at the restaurant.

“Can’t remember the last time I ate something fried up,” he sighs, wistful. “Homemade. You think it’s normal fish and chips or something local? I guess it wouldn’t matter. Still be tasty.”

“So - lunch, something we need or save it,” Dok summarizes, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Shh,” hisses Trick, glaring over at Dapper. “But… yeah. Yeah. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure. I almost feel like we’re missing something. But I’d really like something to eat. Or it could be safer to… not spend it.”

Trick sighs and glances over at the camera. “Well, what do you think?”

Anonymous asked: Did you get something for Blue?

Trick glances up. “That’s a really good note, but Anti said he’d get what he needed for Blue. Thanks for reminding us anyway, we would have been in trouble if we forgot something for him otherwise. We’ll share food and stuff with him, of course, but I guess Anti has his own plans for the other stuff he needs. New pets sometimes get… different treatment than the rest of us.”

Anonymous asked: dapper keeps secrets from anti too. he likes to keep little animals as pets, so as long as you don't tell anti about his raven, he definitely won't tell anti about you stashing the extra 400 for an emergency... orrr you can buy yourselves a luxury haha

Dapper flushes white and staggers away from his brothers, his hands rising up in front of his chest. He shakes his head hard, trying to stay steady through the rising rhythm of his heart, shaking his whole body.

“You keep secrets from Anti?” hisses Trick.

“You keep a raven?” asks Doktor, bewildered.

“No, no, no!” Dapper’s back slams against the wall of the store and he shakes his head. “No, no, no, she’s gone now!”

“Oh, this is too fucking rich,” laughs Trick. His voice is bitter as rhubarb. “You’re Anti’s spoiled little brat and even then it’s too hard for you to follow his orders? Oh, wait til he fucking hears about this.”

Carver gives a little croaking gasp, his hands finding the knife in his coat pocket.

“Trick!” snarls Doktor, grabbing him and yanking him towards him. “Stop, now. Drop it.”

“What? You just think we should let him get away with - ”

“I don’t fucking care if Anti knows or not,” snaps Doktor. “It doesn’t concern me. But how about this hypothetical, Trick - Anti finds out you threatened his little one. How do you think he’d take that, huh? Or better put, how do you think you’d take another beating?”

Trick’s gone almost as white as Dapper. “Okay. Okay.”

“I don’t care if you tell Anti. But don’t threaten the boy. I don’t want to get my ass beat because of the stupid decisions that my little brothers make. Understood?”

Trick nods. “Yes, Doktor.”

Dapper stares at the ground, his mouth trembling.

“Okay,” says Doktor, releasing Trick. “So that’s one in favor of saving the cash… provided we don’t all snitch.”

Anonymous asked: Wouldn’t Anti be mad if you saved it? I feel like that’s the best option but I’m worried that he’d get mad and punish you if he found out you had some money left.

“Yeah,” sighs Trick, staring down at the krone. “He would be. It’s just… well, never mind. Okay. That’s one for spend it.”

Anonymous asked: Well, Anti did say specifically to spend it all. So at the very least, if you want to save it, don't give it back to him because he doesn't want it. Do you ever go into town and have not enough money so savings would be helpful, or would it be better to have something you can use? Or food, now?

“Yeah, sometimes we don’t have enough for anything,” murmurs Trick. “Red never says it, but I can tell, because he stops eating. So that’s two for savings.”

florenceisfalling asked: maybe you could get a gift for anti? he didn't tell you to, but he might appreciate it. that could help you out, trick.

“Oh, interesting.” Trick blinks up at you, thinking. “Guess I’m not sure what I’d get him, though. All he likes are knives and computers. If someone has an idea, let me know.”

loganandoli asked: Anti said to spend all the money and to get food and gifts! You said before you needed a first aid kit and some soap too, so if you got all that then I think you’re good! :)

“He did say to spend it all.” Trick sighs out a deep breath. “And we got all that… And I’m really hungry right now. I don’t think we forgot anything… did we?”

immabethehero asked: Get Anti one of those toy phones. They're cheap. Or a black scarf.

“Haha, that’s pretty good really! A black scarf, I bet he’d like that. He has a red one he wears a lot when he’s out in public. Well, maybe I’ll think about that. I guess I’m not sure how he’d take it. I don’t want him to think I’m wasteful.”

Anonymous asked: I don't know what 400 krone can but, but maybe a space heater?

“A space heater, holy shit,” groans Trick. “Can you imagine? That would be fucking incredible. But there’s no electricity back at the house. Plus I don’t think we’d have enough. I’m sorry, I’d like that too.”

immabethehero asked: Use Anti as your electricity

Trick laughs. “You think he’d waste energy on keeping us warm?”

Anonymous asked: More ammo for your gun perhaps?

“Anti gets that for me! I never have to worry about that.”

Anonymous asked: Hmm. I read that you can use things like duct tape and plastic wrap or towels along windows and doors to prevent drafts, maybe?

“Oh, yeah! I think we have duct tape still in the med kit, right, Dok?”

“Yeah, from that time we ran out of gauze.”

“And we do have blankets.”

“Yep, yep.”

“We should try that, though.”

“Yeah, might help. House is drafty.”

immabethehero asked: If he wants you, he should. Give it a shot

Trick grins a little sadly. “I’m sorry, but Anti just doesn’t have time to fuel a fucking space heater for us. It’s a nice idea, though. Thank you.”

spicydanhowell asked: trick! be fucking nice! he's your brother and he loves you. he wants to love you but you treat him like shit because you're jealous of him. there's nothing spoiled about how carver has to live. he gets left alone all day and he's not allowed to touch or talk to anyone but anti, and anti hurts him and ties him up and you think that's special treatment? that's fucked up.

“Well, at least Anti fucking loves him!” shouts Trick, whirling on you. “At least he gets held and coddled and told he’s wanted and shit! Maybe that’s not spoiled to normal people, but my family’s not normal! At least he - at least he - at least - ”

Trick screams his frustration, only to find himself yanked towards Doktor and pressed against his brother’s side. “Calm down, Trick, goddammit! Calm down, they’re right! He’s your little brother too, you know.”

“He’s my only little brother,” snarls Trick, hiding his face in his hands. “And I never, never, never even get to see him!”

His voice shatters and he slumps against Doktor’s shoulder.

“Never get to see him,” whispers Dok, confused, brushing patiently at his hair. “Why does that upset you?”

Against the store wall, Dapper watches wearily, exhaustion in every line of his face - but a certain curiosity too.

“It doesn’t!” cries Trick, gripping Doktor’s shirt. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t! It - I don’t know! I don’t know! If I’m not supposed to remember anything why do I still miss him? I’m so angry! I’m so fucking angry all the time! I’m so fucking tired!”

“Okay, okay,” murmurs Dok, leading him to a bench on the playground and sitting them both down. “Okay, calm down. Let’s just breathe.”

For a few minutes, they sit in silence. Doktor rubs his brother’s back. Dapper watches, something hungry in his eyes.

After a little while, Trick lets out a soft laugh.

“Maybe they’re right,” he murmurs, pressed to Doktor’s chest. “Maybe his life isn’t any easier than this, up there all day, all alone. Cause much as I’d like Anti to want me more…”

He looks up. The earnestness in his eyes surprises Doktor. “Much as I want that,” says Chase. “I think, at the end of the day, I’d rather have you.”

Warmth blooms in Doktor’s chest like a rising tide. His cheeks fill in rosy red.

“Little sap,” he whispers, shoving their foreheads together. “I’m going to punch you in the arm for that one.”

Trick laughs, hiding his face in his shoulder.

“Don’t you go saying anything like that around Anti,” murmurs Doktor.

“Okay, Doktor, I won’t.”

“I love you too, Trick.”

“I love you, Dok.”

“Feeling calmer?”

“A little. Yeah. Calmer.”

“Well, let’s just… let’s just calm down. Let’s just - Trick, let’s get some lunch.”

Trick draws slowly back from him, hope in his eyes. “Really?”

Anonymous asked: Anti said to spend it ALL and I think he meant it...

Trick nods slowly, counting through his cash a second time. Swallowing, he looks up to meet Doktor’s eyes.

“So… spend it?”

Doktor grins slowly. “You want fish and chips?”

Trick shifts, smiling. “Haha, really? Really really? I was sort of kidding… it’s been forever since we had anything cooked.”

“Yeah. It has. We deserve a treat, huh?”

Trick grins dopily, like a little kid. “A treat, wow… um, maybe… I don’t know, Dok…”

spicydanhowell asked: if y'all are already hungry... you've got a long walk back, just buy some lunch and stop worrying :/

“That’s a good point,” giggles Trick. “We do have a long walk. We do need something to eat. We are supposed to spend it all.”

He stares down at the cash. Up at Dok.

“We’re getting fish and chips.”

“We’re getting lunch?”

“Dude. Dude. We’re getting lunch.”

They’re both laughing now. Trick feels a little overwhelmed. This is the fucking best.

“Okay, well, come on, then!”

“Okay, man, okay! Haha. Let’s get food!”

Doktor calls Dapper over to him - pausing gently to push a strand of hair out of his eyes before taking his hand - and they head past the pharmacy, over to the restaurant. There are other people milling around and the sun has risen cool and cheerful, sending wind brushing through their hair. They can smell the sea from here, crisp salt making the air clean.

The restaurant is more like a bar than anything else, and there are local workers off for lunch crowded around the bar, talking and laughing and chatting. After so long cooped up in that little house, Trick finds there’s something very comforting about the old, familiar feeling of other people being happy and safe around him. He squeezes Doktor’s hand and then asks for a table from a nice teenage waitress, who, luckily, seems to speak good English.

They end up in the corner, exactly where they’d prefer. Dapper presses up against the wall, looking tired.

“You want fish too or what?” asks Trick, avoiding his eyes.

Dapper sits up uncertainly, wondering if he’s being made fun of. He glances at Doktor, who shrugs and smiles.

“Yes?” knocks Dapper, frowning.

“Okay,” says Trick, checking prices. “We can get fizzy drinks too and then we should be close enough to spending it all. Safely close. Sound good?”

Dapper stares at him. “Yes,” he says finally. Sounds really good. He’s not sure he’s allowed to eat anything without Anti’s permission, but… Trick’s in charge right now, so he’ll go with it.

He glances over at Doktor again. Doktor smiles back. Trick looks cheerful, bouncing a little in his seat. The sun shines through the window.

Dapper giggles and sinks down in his seat, resting his head on Doktor’s shoulder, and he isn’t pushed away or even glared at by Trick.

Today’s a good day.

Anonymous asked: Eat out and save your goods for later!

“True!” grins Trick, setting his backpack down beside him and looking down at all of his stuff, proud of everything he’s secured for his family. “Saving more food for later!”

musical-in-theory asked: To quote my favorite show: “Love, hate, they’re so close. It’s easy to mistake one for the other.” Trickshot. Hate is easy, but it’s wrong. Hate is easy, but it’s not the only option. Hate is easy, but that’s not what this is. You get a choice. He’s not your twin, but he is your little brother. He’s your family.

Trick and Dapper exchange uncomfortable looks and turn back to their food, gone quiet. Trick and Doktor are mostly done, but Dapper has only picked at his food, though he has looked pretty happy, if a little tuckered out.

nikkilbook asked: This has to be the most physical activity Dap’s had in... what did he say, two months? Given how small that room is and how often he ends up tied up or restricted, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended with muscle atrophy. How’s he doing? He’s gotta be exhausted, especially with how out of it he was this morning.

Dapper giggles. “Anti and I tussle a lot, he doesn’t want me to get too out of shape. I roll around a lot and stuff. Sometimes Anti even dances with me.”

He puts his chin in his hand and stares dreamily out the window. “That’s the most fun, when he does things with me. But I am a little tired… I haven’t been sleeping well. Or I don’t think I have. Have I? I can’t remember what time we’re in. Is it still today?”

Doktor and Trick exchange quizzical looks over the table.

Anonymous asked: You know, Dap. You have the ability to keep reliving this day. This one good day. Anti wouldn’t have to know.

Dapper sinks down in his seat, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

“The thing is, he often knows,” he sighs. “I get tired within a couple tries and he sees… my eyes change and I wear down… and if I ever used too much power and then wasn’t able to reverse things later…”

Dapper pauses, clutching his shaking hands together, biting down on his lip. Trick frowns. He never noticed they shared that tic before.

“I think he would just kill me,” admits Dapper. “I wouldn’t be of any use to him then.”

Trick and Doktor have gone quiet.

“But, if I could pick a day to relive…” Dapper grins and takes a sip from his drink. “It might be a day like today.”

musical-in-theory asked: Oh and Anti. My “fuck you” alarm just went off. You know what that means! Damn you, you absolute pecan. You three-month-old stale potato chip.

Your connection back home fizzles. You catch sight of Dapper’s room. There is something red drizzling across the floor of the bathroom.

musical-in-theory asked: Wait, wait. Hold the fuck up. What?

“I’m the fuck up,” whispers Trick. “Hold me.”

He and Doktor dissolve into giggles over their fish. Dapper tilts his head at you, confused.

florenceisfalling asked: well, maybe look for some hand warmer packs? they might be hard to find, especially if you don't know the language, but they heat up really fast without electricity (they're just lil chemical things in a bag). i dunno, we use them for hunting and hiking here. irrelevant but how's blue doing? or have the cameras lost connection still?

“Hand warmer packs,” repeats Trick, popping his last chip in his mouth. “That’s a really good idea! Fuck, I gotta tell Red that. They don’t use electricity? That could be really good, especially if - ”

“Wait, hold on,” protests Doktor, sitting forward. “The cameras lost connection?”

Trick blinks and sits up, looking at you. Dapper reaches quietly into his vest.

“The ones back at the house?” asks Doktor. “All of them? Entirely?”

He turns to look at Trick.

“I think we should go home. Cameras being disrupted could mean Anti’s in danger.”

“If Blue got loose…” murmurs Trick, remembering flowers bursting up through concrete.

“Blue didn’t get loose,” snaps Doktor. “Nobody ever gets loose from Anti. Come on, let’s just - I think we should just get home.”

“Okay, shit - I - okay.” Trick leaves the cash on the table and slings his backpack over his shoulder. Doktor grabs Dap’s hand and they head out together. The sky is beginning to cloud over.

Anonymous asked: Red? Blue?? ... Someone there?

Your downstairs camera flickers, trying to answer you. You’re fairly sure there is a body at the bottom of the stairs. Nothing is moving. The camera screen is glitching heavily. There is a soft but painful whining in the air - and maybe, if you listen, someone singing.

musical-in-theory asked: Guys hurry up!! Something bad went down back at the house and we can’t make out what happened!

“Fucking hell,” whispers Trick, picking up his pace along the trail. Dapper, on the other hand, is slowing down, his face dark with concern.

“I can feel his power,” he tells you, but his brothers are not looking at him. “He is dangerous when he uses this much.”

nikkilbook asked: Boys, I’m not sure what, but something’s gone sideways back at the house. I’d suggest you hurry, but be on your guard.

“We do need to be on our guard,” groans Dok, growing closer to the house. “Trick, maybe we should - maybe we should stay away.”

“The others could be in trouble, are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure! We’re just not exactly the fighters of the house, are we?”

Trick pants, biting down on his lip. “Got your gun?” he asks.

Dok’s face steadies and he pulls from beneath his jacket a beautiful silver handgun.

“Well, there’s something, isn’t there?”

Doktor nods, face white. “Get your knives out. Both of you. Trick, you’re sure about this?”

“No,” answers Trick, grinning. “But I don’t think we have much choice, do we?”

“Well,” sighs Dok, resuming his march. “When do we ever, my friend?”

Anonymous asked: Goddamnit.... Anti, anything you can tell us?? (Two others asking after Anti were added)

The screens flicker as one.

“What,” read green words glitching across the screen. “Are you so afraid of?”

The body at the bottom of the stairs is not moving. From Dapper’s room, something blue has joined the red on the floor of the bathroom. There is movement inside, and then quiet laughter.

The screen steadies.

Anti steps out of the bathroom.

There’s a towel, stained red and blue, wrapped around his throat. He approaches carefully, leans down to the floor, and scoops the camera up.

He looks exhausted.

But proud.

“Well, hey there, puppets,” he purrs. “How was your day out on the town, huh? Do you want to see what I’ve been working on? Huh? Or are you too scared to see what’s happened to your favorite boy?”

musical-in-theory asked: We are not puppets!! Just fucking show us the damage!! FUCK YOU

Anti drops the camera on the floor, sniffing. “Well, you can wait for the other boys to get home and hope they have the courage to investigate if you want.”

ari-trash asked: I'm a bit scared of what we'll see but I do wanna see the boy

“Now there’s a politer way to ask,” purrs Anti, scooping up the camera. “Or at least the bare minimum. Of course you want to see him! He’s a good boy! He’s wonderful, he’s mine. I’ll consider it.”

nikkilbook asked: Is it too much to hope that they had a roaring good time and Good Boy A is just taking a snooze downstairs and Good Boy B is getting his hair dyed in the bathroom. Cuz like. What the frick else is that blue stuff.

Anti laughs aloud. “You guessed it, Nikki, good job! Hahaha! That’s too funny. Good job, you must be the smart one. I’m not sure Red’s sleeping, but, hey, he’s quiet, isn’t he?”

nikkilbook asked: Not sure how I feel about Concerningly Amoral Boy calling me the smart one, but okay.

“Concerningly Amoral should be the name of a band. I like that.”

Anonymous asked: Ooh, our favorite puppetmaster's been busy? Well, if you'd let us see, we'd be glad to see your latest project :)

Anti giggles. “Okay, someone knows how to have fun. Come here, I want you to see.” He carries you back towards the bathroom and knocks gently on the door. “Blue? I’m bringing someone in to see you, okay?”

A pause. Soft breathing in heavy air. Then, shakily: “Okay.”

Anti carries you into the room.

Blue is stretched across the floor, shirtless.

His long, neatly-kept hair is gone, or at least it is lying on the floor of the bathroom instead of clipped up on the back of his head. Anti cut it off with warm hands, shaving the sides, leaving it longer on the top, which is soaked in a fine blue dye.

Blue’s eyes are dazed and empty. He stares blankly up at you, shaking a little from the cold. He moves, but only very slowly. Anti crouches down and puts a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his bare skin gently. “That looks good, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, playing with a lock of his hair, leaving blue on the ends of his reddened fingers. “That looks nice. How are you feeling?”

Blue blinks and swallows. “F-feel sick, Anti.”

“Poor thing,” whispers Anti. “It’s okay. I told you I’d look after you, wouldn’t I?”

Blue nods slowly, tears in his eyes. Anti brushes them away and leans in to kiss the side of his mouth. “You’re okay. It’s okay. Hey, tell them you’re name.”

Blue stares up at the camera, his face very pale. “It’s Blue,” he says. “That’s what Anti told me.”

“Right,” murmurs Anti, stroking his shoulder. “Right.”

Anonymous asked: Wait, really? Why would you dye his hair?

“Oh, simple,” says Anti, standing up. “I fucking love character design.

“Isn’t it fitting that a new man should have a new haircut? New clothes? A new name? You know, in the Bible, when God would give a mission to someone he loved, a new purpose for living, he would rename them and send them away from the places they grew up. Simon becomes Peter, Abram Abraham, and so on. You have to destroy the old person to make way for the new.”

Anti pauses, tapping his lip. “Jack told me I was misunderstanding those stories, once,” he admits. “But I like to think my point stands. This is my new pet. He is no longer the man you knew. And he does not look it. You will see soon enough that nothing at all is left of your precious boy.”

Anonymous asked oh god, what have you done? What did you do, what did you do to them Anti? Was sending them out just a distraction? What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?

Anti smiles. “Hey, Blue,” he calls. “How long have you been with me, darling?”

Blue looks up, his eyes bewildered. He rubs dully at his face. “Don’t… don’t remember…”

“No? Can you tell me how many brothers you have?”

Blue frowns, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You,” he stammers out, trying hard to think. “And… the other boy… Red… right?”

Anti simpers, smirking at you.

“Anti, my head hurts,” whines Blue, sinking down against the bathroom floor.

Anti reaches down to help him up again, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you downstairs, huh? Twin’s going to look after you. Okay? Let’s get you down for some sleep.”

nikkilbook asked: While I agree that Biblically, the new name is associated with laying aside your old life, I think the real misunderstanding here is yOU AREN’T GOD.

“No one is,” sighs Anti, sounding disappointed. He helps Blue get to his feet, stroking the back of his head, and his little brother leans in to rest against his shoulder.

musical-in-theory asked: Fine. A punishment, slight or harsh, is far better than a reward in this case. To do right by you is to give in to evil.

“Evil,” sighs Anti, and then, distantly, “What is truth?”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I hope you realize that when karma comes back around, shes going to make you pay dearly for what you have done here

“She better hurry up, then, I’m tired of waiting for her. No one ever makes me pay for anything. Being unequaled can be boring, you know.”

musical-in-theory asked: Okay Anti. I knew you were a damn psychopath, but why did you have to cut the hair? His gorgeous hair! Imma start calling you Telly the Barber for this

Anti giggles and there is a flicker in his audio. A second later, his mouth is moving, but out comes the voice of Cecil Palmer, intoning, “He talks with an accent and sneers. Telly the Barber cut Carlos’s beautiful hair. According to reports. Telly. Now, while I gather myself, let’s have a look at traffic. Oh, wow! Well, that looks pretty good. Yup.”

Anti sneezes and cuts himself off, laughing, his voice returned to normal. Blue, close at hand, looks vaguely unnerved.

musical-in-theory asked: Nope you don’t get to wax poetic here with philosophical questions. You’re a damn brainwasher and torturer.

To your credit, Anti is in fact beginning to look tired of talking. He heaves Marvin closer to hand and strokes along his stomach, glaring at you.

ari-trash asked: Is the new look the "gift" you mentioned giving to blue or do you still have something left for him?

“Ah, there’s a good question,” purrs Anti, helping Blue to sit on Dapper’s bed. “In fact that was only the first part of the gift. I got him a lot of presents. It’s his birthday, after all! His and Red’s.” He leans down to kiss Blue again, self-satisfied to the extreme, and Blue doesn’t flinch away. “Stay here for a second, kitten.”

Anti leaves the camera with Blue, who stares blankly down at you.

Anonymous asked: Marvin....? Are you still there? I said once that I wouldn't let your forget who you were and I am desperately hoping I haven't failed you. please, Marvin, you have to remember! You cant let him brand you!

Blue flinches every time you try to say the name, rubbing at his ears as a sharp shrieking noise reaches him again and again. “That’s awful, please stop,” he murmurs. “I have such a headache. You’re going to help me? I could really use that, I - ”

Tears spark in his eyes and his mouth quivers. He turns away, angry for crying in front of strangers. “I can’t remember who I am and Anti - well, he’s not very good at explaining…”

Anonymous asked: My, my, what a thorough job. That’s honestly impressive :P What happened to the little redbird, if we may ask?

“Thank you,” hums Anti, sorting through his closet. “And good question. My little cardinal has been so anxious lately. I noticed he was having trouble getting on with his twin. And that won’t do. I made it easier on both of them. You’ll see.”

spicydanhowell asked: could you put some clothes on him!? it's fucking freezing

“Good idea! I sure can.” Anti slings a bag over his shoulders and hurries back to Blue, setting it down beside him. “You must be freezing, Blue.”

“Yeah, it’s cold…”

“Here, get dressed, and then we’ll get you downstairs to lie down with twin. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Anti pauses, tilting his head. “Okay?”

Blue blinks, swallows, remembers. “Okay, Anti,” he manages. “Yes, sir.”

Anti laughs, hard, stroking his cheek. “There’s a good boy. There’s a really good cat. Everything’s going to be okay. Get changed, now.”

Anonymous asked: Ah. Right. He can't be disagreeable if he's not conscious. A-plus logic in peace building there.

“Oh, no, no, nothing so shallow as that.” Anti shakes his head, tsking his tongue against his teeth. “What do you take me for? No, something more permanent for my red dog.”

nikkilbook asked: I take you for a toddler with very few positive conflict resolution skills.

Anti pauses, considers, shrugs. “I’m five, so. It is what it is. PMA, right, guys?”

Anonymous asked: Tenacity, maybe. But not pma sorry.

“Yeah, well, I never understood that saying anyway.”

Anonymous asked: Boy howdy am I afraid for what's gonna happen next :D

Anti giggles and looks at you, giving you a huge smile in mimicry of the emoji. A second later a “:D” flickers across the screen and Anti bursts into laughter, turning away. “Okay, enough, enough! You’re all fucking comedians tonight, huh?”

Anonymous asked: what the fuck have you done to red? specifically what.

“Check him out for yourself, fuck, I’m exhausted,” snaps Anti, suddenly irritable. “When are my boys coming home? I’m tired, I want Monochroma, the bed is cold.”

Anonymous asked: Red? Can you hear me?

On the stairs, a soft whimper. The body stirs, turning slightly on its side.

Anonymous asked: Are trick and doktor still far away from the house?

Doktor approaches the house with the others close beside him. He keeps them at his back - he’s the older brother and he understands that, despite the benefits of his birth order, this also means his job is to protect the younger ones.

The door to house is shut, or as shut as it ever is, missing its topmost hinge. As they get closer, Dapper begins to gag, shaking his head hard, yanking back against Doktor’s grip.

“Hey, hey,” hisses Doktor, turning to him. “What’s wrong, the hell are you doing?”

“Power, power,” signs Dapper, shaking. “Bad, bad.”

“Blue’s power?” asks Trick, clutching his knife tighter. “Did he hurt Anti?”

“No, no, Anti power.”

“Well, then, what’s the matter?” sighs Doktor.

“Bad, bad,” whines Dapper, tears filling up his eyes. “Don’t want, don’t want go. Hurt me too.”

“No, no,” murmurs Doktor, turning back to soothe him. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

loganandoli asked: Hey Trick, Doktor, Carver, you’re all good. Anti was just dying Blues hair. He did do something to them both though, so be careful.

“There, there, see?” Doktor hushes Dap, reaching out to squeeze his shoulders gently. “Just hair dye! Just silly, fun stuff, yes? It’s okay.”

“Power, power, power,” signs Dapper, gagging, pulling away. It’s pretty clear that Doktor isn’t enough to reassure him.

Anonymous asked: Trickshot? You guys close yet? Where are you? We only have a vague idea of what's going on but I think the danger's passed for now.

Trick glances at you, nods, and stands up. There is a sudden light returned to his eyes, one you have never seen before. He turns to Dapper, hiding his face in his hands, and then reaches out, just gentle, to take his hand.

Dapper flinches at first, staring up at him with fear in his eyes, but a second passes, and Trickshot doesn’t hurt him. He’s finding it difficult to even meet his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away.

“I get it, okay?” he whispers. “It’s scary even when it shouldn’t be scary.”

Dapper stares, his face loosening slightly.

“But we can’t not go in. Right? It would be worse to try and run away than to stay and risk it.”

Dapper nods slightly, considering.

“If something goes really bad, you can reverse it, can’t you?”

Dapper looks exhausted. But he nods again, reaching out to touch Trick’s cheek.

Trick sighs but allows it, taking Dap’s hand in his own.

“And they say the danger’s past, don’t they?”

Dapper scowls, turning his face away. “Don’t trust them,” he snaps, baring his teeth. “Snitches!”

Trick can’t help it. He’s laughing.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“Told on me!”

“They did.”

“Twice!”

“I know, Dap,” sighs Trick. “I know. And yet…”

And yet, they have to go in. And yet, they have to trust you. And yet, Trick does not plan to tell Anti.

“We gotta go in there,” says Trick. “Don’t we?”

Dapper sighs and steadies himself, standing up straight. “What if I don’t get to leave again? For months, maybe?”

Trick bites his lip. Dapper copies him. Trick smiles, suddenly weighed down heavy by all the bullshit sorrow in his bullshit life.

“Well,” he says. “At least we had one day of freedom, didn’t we?”

Dapper’s mouth flickers in a smile. He reaches out to touch Trick’s cheek again, and this time, Trick takes his hand in his own, and squeezes it tight, staring him right in the eyes.

“Okay,” say Dapper’s exhausted hands. “Okay. Let’s go in. Come what may.”

loganandoli asked: Red? Can you hear us? Are you ok? What did he do?

The body turns over, revealing open blue eyes, staring right at you. A look of confusion on his face, a slight tremor on his mouth, red dye in his hair, cut short at the sides, left longer on top, just like Blue upstairs.

“Red,” he repeats wearily, his voice frail, and shaking, and very, very confused.

Anonymous asked: Red, are you alright? Can you move, buddy?

He blinks, swallows, and tries his best to sit up, managing to slump against the wall next to the stairs, panting hard. His head is unwrapped and he clutches at it, groaning. “I can move,” he manages thickly. “I can… Red…what’s…”

musical-in-theory asked: Wait, Jackie? Is that you?

“Ow, fuck,” he moans, clutching his head at the screeching. “Please…”

Anonymous asked: Dok, get your medkit ready. There's gonna be blood...

Dok rummages in his backpack to draw out gauze and disinfectant, so he at least has something ready. In his other hand, he holds the gun out.

“On three, okay?” he whispers, nodding at his brothers. “One, two…”

He shoves open the door and points his gun, staring around. Near the bottom of the stairs, Red jolts up, staring back at him, letting out a quick, panicked shout. Above him, on the stairs, a second man has gone still, frozen by the gun in his hand.

“Umm,” says Doktor, fixated on him. “What… uh…”

“What the fuck?” gasps Trick. “Blue?”

Blue stares back at them, his mouth slightly open.

He wears a long black coat, thin but sturdy, with sleeves drawn up to his elbows and the tail hanging at the back of his knees. His hands are coated in rings and bracelets, his ears glimmer with silver, his shirt depicts the turning cycles of the moon, he wears blue jeans and soft black boots.

“Um,” he chokes, backing up. “I think so?”

Dapper, Doktor, and Trick exchange glances.

Red staggers to his feet, pointing at the his brothers in the doorway, paranoid. “Okay,” he barks, panic in his voice. “I’m going to ask this once and once only - who the fuck are you?”

nikkilbook asked: Okay, this may sound horrible, but are we ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN which boy is which? Like, is the boy we’re calling Red the same boy we were calling Red this morning?

Anti laughs, his form flickering as he steps down the stairs, until he just ends up looking like a fanged Jack with his hood pulled up. “Haha, can you imagine? I just lose track of which is which? They lose track of which of which? So fucking lost in their heads they can’t tell where the old breaks and the new begins? Mind you, I might have with Trick and Doktor if not for the accents… needy, clingy little boys they were, pressed side-to-side in their little collars and chains, crying for Red to remember them… Funny. You’re funny.”

He staggers slightly and catches himself, anger flashing across his face. Straightening up again, he sets his feet down on the bottom step of the stairs, looking around at his puppets.

Red has pressed Blue protectively against the wall. He looks shaky and terrified - Blue just looks exhausted, his fingers curling around his twin’s hoodie. Doktor and Dapper and Trick stand in the doorway, staring at their brothers. Anti sees horror, grief, and confusion in their faces.

“Alright, everybody chill out,” he sighs, heading over to Trick and unzipping his backpack, pulling out a bag full of groceries. He walks over to the cabinets and begins putting food away, stacking peanut butter and canned fruit while his toys readjust to the situation. They’re so fucking slow sometimes. Not his Dapper though. His Dapper is already resigned, avoiding Red and Blue’s eyes, playing with the fringe of his coat. Sometimes Anti thinks he remembers more than the others. He is lucky to have not been in the house while Anti played with Red and Blue. He is lucky you sent Doktor to look after him.

“Anti, what’s happening?” pants Red. Doktor has lowered his gun, but he doesn’t look any more at ease.

“I told you,” sighs Anti. “You hit your little heads, you don’t seem to remember much.”

Doktor’s mouth tightens with a quick flash of anger, but he schools his face again immediately, drawing Trick closer.

“You know your twin. These are your little brothers, Doktor and Trickshot. They won’t hurt you. You need anything, you tell them, and they’ll do it. Right, boys?”

“Yes, Anti,” they promise in sync, twin faces white.

“And this is my Carver,” he adds, nodding to Dapper. “You leave him alone upstairs, he’s violent for such a tiny puppy.”

Carver blushes but offers no protest, staring at Red with sunken eyes.

What does it matter? He won’t see any of them again. What’s to say they’ll even remember him if he does? What’s to say any of this will still be real tomorrow?

Anti hums and closes the cabinets again, fighting off a wash of exhaustion to make his steps unsteady. Leaning slightly against the island, he glances over at you, considering turning you off, but another look at the confusion in Red’s face makes him smile again, and he decides to let you watch.

He yawns, licking his canines, and reaches out a hand. Dapper responds immediately, hurrying over to him to take his hand in his own.

“I need to sleep,” he admits, rubbing at his face as he turns back towards the stairs. He takes Red’s chin in his free hand and examines his frightened face apathetically.

“Keep your brothers in line tonight,” he says.

And Red, never washed clean enough to forget his training, responds: “Yes, Anti,” in a small, steady voice, the emotion draining from his face as he pulls himself back together.

Anti smiles.

The others watch him and Dapper walk upstairs, the shutting of the bedroom door leaving them alone and staring, confused and afraid, from opposite sides of the room.

Trick thinks Doktor is crying.

End Section 3 of Chapter One.

Find this chapter’s masterlist here.

#abuse tw #masterlist #oh happy day

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1000roughdrafts · 5 years

Text

Family Secrets: Chapter Five

Pretty Thoughts

Summary: After interrogating a demon for weeks on end, she gives you the information you‘ve been hunting for. Enlisting help from Garth brings trouble in the form of Dean Winchester.

A/N: again, sorry about formatting, I’m on mobile. Also, happy halloweeeeeen🎃:)

Warnings: SPN style demon torture (lol), obscenities, slight angst (argument between reader x dean), Dean in slight pain

W/C: 2.7k

Masterlist/schedule

Previous Chapter

"Just give me their names you disgusting rat," you shout through clenched teeth at the thin, black hair and black eyed demon you have strapped to a rusted chair. Dumping holy water onto the demons face you smile as it screams out in agony. With clammy hands you lean in, your face just inches away from it's blood drenched cheek. "You're going to die no mater what, so give me what I need and I'll put you out of your misery."

The demon stays silent, looking at you with it's now chestnut eyes with russet rims. It's long lashes bat once at you. "Mandy," you say gingerly while pushing yourself up to stretch out your back.

Taking a glimpse at the devils trap you've carved into the floorboards of a room you and Rufus had added onto the cabin, it wretchedly begs, "it's been weeks."

"Pretty neat, huh?" You mendaciously chuckle while toying with the dagger. "I've expanded on the normal version. Thought I'd had a trick of my own. You're dying, slowly and never to return again that's to some spells I've learned along the way."

"How cute. A hunter dabbling in magic. Does daddy know that you're no better than those you're in search of?" She puts on a false pout before breaking into laughter, "oh, wait."

Your eyebrows erect to reveal your arrogant eyes and temperate smirk. "Names. Now."

The demon stays silent, continuing to look around for a way out. Fed up with its evasiveness you grab a syringe filled with holy water and finished off with a spell to elongate the effects, to quickly inject the demon before it can scream out. After giving a second dose, you throw the empty syringe back onto the tray.

"Guess I'll see you in a few days, then." You laugh, "if you're still alive that is. See, I do need this information, but if you die before I can get it, well, that just means I have to kill more of your kind. And that's a win win for me."

You stealthily turn to walk towards the wooden block of a door that leads to the cabin. As you approach the first step, the demon lets out a thundering, frustration driven growl. Twisting around to face the demon, you smile, "yes?"

"Allanah Sandburn, Rose Coach, Taylor something and Violet Yasmin."

"Who else?" you demand while striding over and paralleling you're torso to the demons, pulling your dagger to her cheek.

"Guess you're gonna have to get another 'rat' to tell you that one," it shrieks, spitting at you. "That's all I know."

"Good one," you say, wiping the saliva from your cheek with the back of your hand and letting out a small chuckle. "I guess you're right."

Thrusting the blade into the left center of the demons chest it lets out one last ear piercing shrill, throwing its head back in torment. The body twitches and convulses and the last bit of essence vanished from the vessel in a luminous flash of vivid energy.

After showering the dagger in holy water you use your handkerchief to wipe it dry before dialing a number into your cell. "Hi, Garth." You pause and smile, "yeah, grab a piece of paper, would ya?"

You rotate around and stride over to the demon. "Can you do me a solid and have a look-see at a few names?"

—

A nauseating stench vents into the smokey air as you glare into the pit and gawk at the burning carcass. You reach into your pocket and put the singing phone to your ear, "what's the word?"

"Why are you asking Garth to track down a coven?"

"Grumpy? What are you doing with Garths cell?"

"What? I'm no- didn't you see the number before you answered?"

"Luckily for you, I didn't. Slick move leaving your card behind, I thought I had your number blocked."

"Yeah, well," Dean clears his throat. "Sam says I may have been a little too tough on you."

"Tough?" You called me a fucking monster, asshole, your thoughts scream.

"Now, I know I called you a monster and hey," he chuckles, "I've been there. Like you said, a lot of hunters have a bounty on my head."

"And?" Do you expect me to fucking care? You think as you sit on the cement steps in front of the porch.

"And I'm not expecting you to care or anything, but, uh, I thought 'what the hell, let's give her a shot'. What do you say?"

"Give me a shot?" Better make sure that's an iron bullet, you cynically joke.

"No, look, I'm not fixin' to shoot you," he says quickly and then more smoothly, "I'm saying I want a second chance."

"Yeah well you can take that and-"

"Shove it where the sun don't shine? Tried that. It can right on back."

You can hear a playful grin that he's attempting to suppress, and roll your eyes at the image. "I have gone a very long time with just myself, I think I can handle-"

"You're not doing it on your own. Covens typically meet in groups of-"

"Thirteen. I'm aware. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Says the girl who doesn't even know when she was born," he scowls.

You laugh, "aw, would you look at that, it didn't even take more than five minutes for your true colors to shine back through."

"Okay, smarty pants, I'm looking at this from a logical point of view. Thirteen against one are not great odds. You want to get yourself killed? Be my first. But if you want help, do nothing until we get back. What do you say?"

"That's assuming that I'm not already being logical about this." You pause, "tell me what Garth found out and I light agree to that."

He sighs, "the main one you're looking for Allanah. I guess she was last seen somewhere near Kansas City, but seriously... don't go poking around until me and Sam get back to the cabin. Just stay where you are. Do you hear me?"

You switch the phone to your alternate ear, standing up from the steps. "You are not in charge of me, Dean! We met purely coincidentally, you threatened me and I went off on my own remember? I didn't even want to hear from you again!" What does he care anyway?

"Whatever. I don't care. Just don't drag Garth into it."

"Oh," you scoff. "So that's a perfectly acceptable thing for Dean Winchester, but I can't?" Asshole.

"What did you just say?"

Louder this time, you repeat yourself, "I'm saying you don't own him. You can't just keep bossing people aro-"

"No, something about an ass."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I could have sworn you called me an asshole."

Immediately you end the call and hold the phone against your chest. "How in the hell could he have heard that?" You say aloud, too scared to say anything mentally.

Walking inside to grab yourself a much needed beer you try to drown out the idea of Dean Winchester heading your every thought. You're trying to keep them concealed and nothing too personal, but after a lifetime of privacy as far as thoughts go, it's not as easy as you hope. Opening the beer, your phone rings again.

"Leave me alone," you growl.

"Oh," Tim says, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were upset with me."

You put your palm to your forehead, "I'm not, Tim. I'm sorry. I was just on the phone with someone else, and... what's up?"

"Well, there's this guy missing from my town. The police don't seem to be doing much, but I really gotta know if he's okay, you know?" He sniffles, "I figured since you're part of the FBI or CSI or secret service or something you could look into it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Tim," you sigh. "It doesn't really... work that way."

"Please? It would really mean a lot to me."

"Just... just text me the location."

By the time you arrive, the neighborhood is dark. No street or porch lights are on. Most of the houses are guarded up with rusted chains on the windows and skirted with tall metal fences. You grab your pistol from the glove box and double check the clip. With the dagger still in your boot, you sneak out while checking for wandering eyes. The sidewalk that interrupts a dandelion garden leads to a golden brown door. Checking over your shoulder once more, you pick the lock and creep inside.

What you presume used to be a coffee table is wearing the couch and underneath the two is a torn up rug. Shards of splintered wood litter the floor where the dining table had collapsed. A thick coating of muddy red blood is splattered over the previously cotton white walls and wooden floor. You aren't sure whether it came from one person or more, but it is enough to leave a man dead. The only room unscathed is the office, which seems to remain orderly if it weren't for the papers scattered around.

Whoever is doing this was looking for something.

After bowing to your knees, you rummage through the cluster trying to find a clue. You check the mahogany dressers of his desk, and find nothing to suggest he had a life outside of work. You open the screen of his laptop and smile when it pulls everything up with no need to enter a password. Finding nothing but excel worksheets and business projects, you focus your attention to the matching bookshelf to see much of the sale.

Nothing seems to be helpful until you notice that one is remarkably shallow compared to the other. Quickly and quietly, you pull everything out and using the heel of your gun you give the makeshift bottom a rough tap. After a few attempts it opens just enough to reach inside. The tips of your fingers are instantly cold to the touch of a large skeleton key.

"I believe that belongs to me, sweetheart."

Drawing your weapon you whip around and lime the barrel between the mans eyes.

"Ah, the ol' gun to the head trick," he laughs with his arks in the air. "Go ahead, love, wouldn't work on me anyway." He drops his arms as you bend to reach the dagger, keeping him in sight. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I know what you're going for, darling, and I'd strongly advice against it."

"Who are you?" Dean help! You scream in your mind, putting as much strength and emphasis onto the name as you can, hoping that he can hear you.

"Trying to cut out the foreplay I see," he snarls while walking to your side. "Very well, then. The names Crowley," he says proudly, chin held high.

Bursting through the door of the cabin, the Winchester's lug in their bags and plop them into the floor. Sam shuffled through one of the books shelves while Dean is staring out of a, foolishly open, window. He steps back and forth along the floor before throwing his arms out and halts his pacing, “we have four missing people, and never seen or heard of before weather patterns."

Sam lets out an exasperated sigh, "are we sure they're even connected?" He pulls a book from the case and settles in at the table to flip through it. He scans the room, twisting his body in both directions, "said a minute. Wasn't Blue supposed to be here?"

"I couldn't give a -" in completion of a sentence, Dean screams obscenities as he drops to the floor boards, holding his head in his hands.

"Woah, what's going on?" Sam scrambles to his side, dropping to the floor with him.

"I don't-" Dean belts out another cry of pain, "I don't know. I can hear her though."

"Who?" Sam pulls his brother up by the shirt and sits him upright. "Who do you hear?"

Dean clasps at his chest, looking up at Sam with wide eyes, "Blue. She's in trouble."

"I'm only here for one thing." He puts his lips next to your ear, and a hand in your hair. "And I'd hate to break those lovely little fingers of yours to get it, but you see, I'd do anything to get what I want." After rolling his fingers down your sleeve he removed his hand to point at the key, "and what I want is that."

"Did you kill him? What's so special about this key anyway?"

He chuckles, taking a short breath and turning his back to you. "You're such a naive, little, what? Hunger, are you? You really think I would waste my precious time on this fool?" He side eyes you while walking over to the bookshelf. "The key," he says, pouring some bourbon into a glass, "is really for me to know and for you," he paused with a grin and takes it down in one gulp, "to never find out."

"Wow," you scoff. Dean! Dean! Dean! Grumpy! Dean!

His eyes squint before trailing up and down your figure. When they meet back up with yours they are curious, and intrigued, "what's your name, love?"

"I'm not about to play share and tell with a demon," you scowl.

"King of Hell," he says through his teeth. "I could snap your neck with a snap of my fingers," he smiles and holds his hand up, "humor me."

"But I've piqued you're interest, haven't I? You could have done that from the start, but you didn't." You mirror the expression on his face as he pours himself another glass without removing his eyes from yours. "Which means you need me alive, don't you? Why?"

"Because we made a deal," a woman's voice fills the room before she can be seen. Grumpy, please! She slowly walks to Crowleys side, glancing at him once before resting an arm on his shoulder. She smiles at you, "hi, Y/N. It's been so long since I've seen you. So for the sake of meeting in, oh I don't know, twenty or so years, I'm Allanah."

She makes her way over to you, wrapping her arms sound your back and grabbing the key. She hands it to Crowley, who disappears instantly.

Allanah laughs, "the part he doesn't know is that without you, that key is nothing more than a paper weight."

Dean drops his hands to his knees and struggled to get his words out through chunky breaths, "have you seen a woman?"

"I run a bar, kid. You're gonna have to be a lot more specific than that," the man scoffs.

"I got this," Sam whispers and turns to face the bald and bearded man behind the counter. Clearing his throat, he asserts, "I'm agent Scott and uh, my partner here is Agent Paxton." Dean sits at the bar, using it as a pillow and only raises a hand in acknowledgment.

Sliding a picture onto the counter, Sam continues, "her name is Blue. Have you seen her come by in the last month or so?"

The man only shakes his head, Sam puts a palm down on the counter. "She may have had a, uh, fling with one of your employees."

The man laughs, "if you think that narrows it down, you'd be mistaken."

"I believe his name was Tim."

"That sounds about right. That Tim sure did have a way with the ladies," she shakes his head with another chuckle.

"Did?"

"Yeah, he quit comin' round about two weeks ago. No calls, nothing. Was a shame, too. It's difficult to find people who work in this damn town."

Dean... please, I'm begging you. Please.

"Shut up!" Dean yells, pounding the counter with his fist and capturing the attention of the people in the bar. When he noticed all eyes are on him, he adjusts his tie and gives a tired chuckle, "bad dream," he jokes with a half nod and light wave before dropping his upper portion back onto the counter.

Sam pulls a card from his suit and places it onto the bar, "if you hear anything." He lifts his eyebrows while tilting his head slightly and adds force to his words, "from either of them, give me a call."

Next Chapter

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blackwxtchmccree · 5 years

Text

Side to Side (Sugar Daddy!Gabriel Reyes x Reader)

I told myself I would never write an AU, but here we are.

Can also be found on my AO3 >>> here.

This is entirely self-indulgent, but I figured I would share for everyone to (hopefully) enjoy. Feedback is welcome and appreciated, otherwise, read on. -Valk

You were tired.

Tired of school, tired of homework, tired of late nights spent slaving over papers, tired of reading out of textbooks that were far too expensive for what they were actually worth, tired of the pressure from your parents to be the perfect student.

You were also tired of your job. You were a photographer for the campus newspaper and it often had you running on and off of campus at weird hours of the day between classes to complete assignments. You were passionate about photography, but none of your pictures ever came out looking as good as you wanted them to—you felt like you weren’t improving and it made you increasingly more disappointed as you flipped through each one, picking the best few to upload and add captions to before slipping out of the office, DSLR camera dangling sadly around your neck.

You had to go home and finish a ten page paper—not the longest one you had never written, but finals were looming a few weeks away and you were drowning in assignments, trying your best to stay on top of them while also working. You often found yourself falling asleep at your desk over your laptop, your eyes glazing over as you attempted to do the reading for each of your classes, usually finding it to be drier than the Sahara in July most nights. The walk back to your apartment was relatively quiet and you dropped your stuff as soon as you stepped through the door, kicking your shoes off, feeling something brush your leg.

Looking down, you found your orange tabby greeting you, rubbing her face against your calf, causing you to smile. Mira—the one good thing in your life, the only thing that made you happy anymore, it seemed. She meowed, peering up at you with her green eyes as she followed you to your small kitchen, begging to be fed. It seemed your roommate hadn’t bothered to throw any food in her bowl like you had asked and you sighed, quietly apologizing to Mira as you scooped kibble out of the bag, watching in amusement as she practically headbutted your hand out of the way, her teeth crunching as she ate.

You hadn’t eaten dinner yet and it was late, but you didn’t particularly feel hungry, mind elsewhere as you sat at your desk, pulling your laptop from your backpack, setting to work on finishing that paper and then likely having to edit a few photos for your photography class, smiling when Mira hopped onto your lap and settled there once her belly was full. The clock read 2:32 am when you finally settled into bed.

That’s usually how your days went—starting with waking up at 8am for your 9am class and working in the afternoon, finally dragging yourself home in the evening to do homework and maybe fix dinner before falling into bed again. You had a few friends and they would invite you out on weekends, but more often than not you were far too tired or far too busy, instead opting for inviting them over to watch a movie. You appreciated their support and patience, though you often received criticisms from your parents for not being social enough, ignoring their texts asking what you were up to on a Saturday night, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. It was rare they were ever happy with your choices. The fact that you didn’t have a significant other wasn’t helping, either.

It was the Friday before fall exams when you got what turned out to be a far more interesting assignment than usual. Your desk editor pulled you aside in the office, asking if you could take pictures at a meeting between the chancellor of the university and the of the head of a private security company the university had contracted to replace the security systems in the dorms on campus that afternoon. The university paper was publishing a story and wanted a portrait of the two shaking hands—nothing unusual. You agreed begrudgingly—you finally had a free afternoon to yourself and wanted to relax, but it needed to be done and none of the other photographers were free.

You were quick to run home and change into somewhat nicer clothes, throwing on a flowy blouse and business slacks alongside a small bit of makeup before swapping out the lens on your camera and running back out the door again, giving Mira’s head a scratch as you went. You caught the bus and made it to the meeting five minutes before it started, showing the security at the door your press pass and slipping inside, looking around the big conference room.

A long glass table took up most of the space at the center, surrounded by comfortable looking plush rolling chairs. Other photographers from larger news organizations were standing near the back, waiting for the meeting to start. You approached them, greeting them quietly, all of you working out a small plan to make sure you got the photos you needed without interrupting anyone’s line of sight. The people involved with the deal were slowly filtering in, mostly men in suits that you didn’t bother sparing more than a glance. You knew your university’s chancellor, Jack Morrison, and had done some research on the head of the private security firm—they were your main focus.

But the pictures online didn’t do Gabriel Reyes justice.

When he entered the room, most of the photographers moved, but you paused for a moment, taken aback slightly by his height and muscular stature. He was older, but his face hardly reflected his age save the crows feet at the edges of his chocolate eyes, which were kind and welcoming. You pulled yourself out of your head, turning your camera on and playing with the settings before moving in. The timing of the meeting was perfect—set during the few golden hours before sunset where natural light made everything look crisper.

The sunlight filtered through the large windows facing the center of campus below and you moved around the table, snapping close up pictures of both Reyes and Chancellor Morrison as they talked. Once everyone sat down, the meeting began and you tuned out most of what they were talking about, uninterested, moving to the back again to get dramatic down-the-table pictures of the two people that mattered conversing. The meeting lasted maybe an hour, with discussions of financials and implementation filling the air.

You had sat down against the back wall beside another female photographer, your feet aching, scanning everyone at the table as they spoke. You found that Reyes was very well spoken and charismatic, cracking jokes and drawing everyone into the diplomatic conversation. You watched the way he laughed, his mouth curved up into a smile, your eyes tracing his plush lips down his strong chin to his broad shoulders that shook when he chuckled. From there your eyes fell down his arms—his muscular biceps pulling at the fabric of his expensive suit jacket, your gaze finally reaching his hand, surprised to find he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

You were pulled out of your thoughts again when the meeting finally concluded, pushing yourself up and getting that perfect shot of Reyes and Chancellor Morrison shaking hands, smiling to yourself and hoping it turned out good enough to publish. Your editor had also asked if you could get a portrait of Reyes in case they needed one for a future story and you hoped you could catch him, slipping out of the meeting room once everyone had scattered and most of the other photographers were busy taking pictures of the chancellor—something your newspaper had plenty of already. You chased the large man down the hall, calling out to him, sliding to a stop when the two security guards at his side raised their hands at you.

“She’s fine—let her pass,” Gabriel chuckled, turning towards you. You didn’t miss the way he looked you up and down—it was a subtle movement, but you caught it regardless, forcing the blush that threatened to rise on your cheeks down. You were sure you looked like a mess—there wasn’t much to see.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you Mr. Reyes,” you apologized, making a small motion with your camera. “I’m Y/N. I was just wondering if I could get a portrait of you. Waist up—in case we need it.”

“Anything for a pretty girl like you,” he replied in earnest, his brown eyes looking down at you kindly. “Where do you need me?”

You took a moment to look around, politely asking for him to step into the adjacent room, thankfully to find that there were large windows there, too, letting the perfect amount of light filter in. He straightened his suit jacket, looking up at the camera and watching you as you worked, getting the lens to focus before snapping a few pictures from a few different angles. You skimmed through them quickly, satisfied.

“Thank you. So sorry for taking up so much of your time,” you apologized again, turning your camera off and letting it settle against your chest as you reached to shake his hand. It was much larger than yours, warmer and softer than you expected. The head of the firm responded with a small nod, flashing you another smile.

“Worth it if you can make me look good—10 years younger maybe with a little bit of photo magic.”

“You’re already very handsome, so I hardly think that’s necessary, sir,” the words came out of your mouth before you could fully process them, a blush rising to your cheeks when Reyes let out a deep laugh.

“Oh I like you,” he huffed in response, heading to the door, but turning back towards you and giving you a small wink. “I’ll be on the lookout for them. Don’t let me down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied unevenly, slightly flustered as you watched him leave. You stood for a moment in silence, staring at the door he just left through, willing the blush on your cheeks to fade before exiting the room and heading towards the newspaper office.

For the first time in a while, you were excited to upload your photos, smiling to yourself when you saw how nicely they turned out, even receiving compliments from your editor. You added captions, finding it hard to remain unbiased when describing the man who had flustered you far more easily than you were willing to admit. You waved goodbye to your coworkers as you left, wishing them a good weekend before finally heading home, intent on settling into a bath and sipping a glass of cheap wine.

You did just that, falling asleep with Mira tucked against your chest, purring softly, the sound and feeling lulling you into the best sleep you had gotten in months. You spent the rest of the weekend relaxing, not having any obligations for once until your first exam began on Tuesday, finally finding the energy to go out with your friends on Saturday night, finding a small window of time to take and send a snarky picture of the group of you sitting around a table at your favorite bar to your mother. You woke up Sunday with a minor hangover, but you just rolled over and took some ibuprofen before falling back asleep, waking up in the early afternoon, feeling guilty for having slept so late when you likely should have been studying, but deciding you deserved it for working so hard.

You hadn’t planned on going back to the office until after exams were over, but you got an interesting text from your desk editor Monday morning telling you there was a surprise waiting in the office for you. You grumbled under your breath as you got dressed, throwing on jeans and a sweater before heading out, loathe to leave the warmth of your bed.

Once you arrived, you saw why she had called you in, scooting back in her rolling chair as you approached the desk, gesturing to the rather large vase of red roses that sat there.

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” your desk editor, Christina, giggled, looking almost dreamily at the floral arrangement. “Or tell me where I can find one that will send me flowers.”

“I don’t. And everyone here is broke—I wouldn’t know where to find someone who could even if I tried,” you retorted your brow furrowing as you brushed leaves and petals aside, looking for a note card. You found it pinned to the side of the vase, plucking the card out and examining the print on it.

Y/N,

Got your employer from your press pass and saw the photos you took. I have to say I’m rather impressed. Hopefully this isn’t too forward, but I have an offer for you. Call me if you’re interested.

-Gabriel Reyes

Oh.

You stared at the card for a moment, taken aback, flipping it over to find a phone number printed on the back. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what this could possibly mean, all the while you realized Christina was talking to you.

“Someone’s taken an interest in you, then,” she teased, poking your side and wiggling her eyebrows, making you roll your eyes. “Is it someone else who works here? Do you recognize the name?”

You hesitated, stuttering out a small ‘no’, hoping it was enough to convince her, tucking the card back into your wristlet and out of her reach when she tried to look at it.

“You have secret admirer then.” She was giving you a mischievous look now, her eyes narrowing.

“Yeah that’s it.”

You were quick to grab the flowers and flee, not wanting to be questioned any further. You set them on the kitchen counter when you got home, admiring them for another moment. They couldn’t have been cheap—the vase they were in was glass and the roses appeared freshly cut and dethorned. You pulled a rose out, holding it to your nose, breathing in the naturally sweet smell and smiling slightly. They were beautiful.

You fluffed them a bit, rearranging them slightly and giving them a bit more water before putting them at the center of the table in the small eating area next to the kitchen, taking a step back to look at them again.

Your mind was racing—why would a man like Reyes take an interest in you? Maybe he was interested more in your photography? If that were the case he could have just emailed you or something—the roses were a few steps above that and you definitely didn’t think your photos warranted such a divine gift. The photos you took of him were good, but they were nothing special—just simple portraits and landscape shots. You were also just a college student—a very tired college student with bags under your eyes that could rival Mariana’s Trench, so you weren’t exactly serving looks, either. Maybe he just wanted to hire you to take photos for an event and this was his way of convincing you to say yes.

Pulling the card out of your wristlet again you examined it, expecting the words on it to give you the answer and you skimmed it time and time again, your gaze scanning the phone number, adding it to your contacts, but not sending any messages.

For now, you needed to focus on your exams, but you would see what he wanted after they were over.

But your curiosity got the better of you and you pulled your phone out once you stepped out of your first exam, your thumb hovering over the call button as you grabbed coffee before heading back to your apartment to study a bit more.

As it rang you thought about hanging up, but he answered before you got the chance to.

“Reyes.” His curt greeting made you snort.

“It’s Y/N. Sorry if I caught you at a bad time.” You could hear him basically perk up over the phone.

“Y/N! I was starting to think you weren’t going to call.”

“It’s exam week—I’ve been a bit preoccupied. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I assumed. You looked tired—not in a bad way, but in a ‘you don’t get enough sleep and they definitely overwork you’ kind of way.”

“That obvious, huh,” you replied sheepishly, frowning. “You could say that.” You juggled your coffee while trying to unlock your apartment door, slipping inside before Mira had a chance to slip out the door. She made a run for it on occasion and you were sure Gabriel didn’t want to listen to you yelling after her in his ear.

“You’re a beautiful girl, regardless, and a talented photographer on top of that. I saw the photos you too—gorgeous lighting, perfect perspective—you made the meeting look almost fun.”

“You seemed like you were having a good time, to be fair. You and Chancellor Morrison really hit it off—almost as if you two knew each other.”

“Something like that, actually. We’re old war buddies,” Reyes replied with an amused huff and you heard his chair creak as he sat back. “Enough about me, though. We spoke briefly, but tell me more about yourself. You seem light a bright young lady.” An odd question—though the flattery made you blush. Most clients didn’t want to get to know you, and maybe it was just fluff to try and get photos for free, but he didn’t seem like the type, so you decided to just be honest.

“Not much to me, honestly—I’m a photography major studying at the art school here. My days mostly consist of going to class, going to work, and then going home to do homework until 2 am,” you replied, shrugging to yourself as you slipped your shoes off, heading into your room to settle onto your bed. “I don’t have much time for many hobbies. My friends drag me to clubs or bars on the weekends sometimes, but otherwise I spend my free time sleeping or drawing on occasion when I feel up to it.”

“Indulge me for a moment,” Reyes murmured almost hesitantly. “Your financial situation, what’s that like?” Another odd question, though you found yourself answering anyway.

“I’m here on a partial scholarship, but I still have to work to pay off the bit that isn’t covered. I hardly get paid enough at the newspaper to cover my rent, so I usually work events and sell my photos on the side to cover everything else. I assumed that’s what this was about.” There was a small pause and you downed the rest of your coffee, setting the empty cup on your bedside table.

“Have any of your friends talked about having a sugar daddy?” That gave you pause, and your brow furrowed.

“Other than wishing they had one, no.”

“With that in mind, I might have a proposition for you.”

“Are you offering…?” You couldn’t finish the sentence, stunned.

This definitely wasn’t about taking photos.

“I am. We’ve only spoken briefly, but I can tell you’re intelligent, funny, and deserve far better than the way life is treating you right now,” Reyes replied. “And I feel you’d make good company.” You were quiet for a moment, letting out the breath hadn’t realized you had been holding, your grip on your phone tight enough to turn your knuckles white.

“...Would this extend beyond just… keeping you company,” you murmured, thumbing at the edge of the blanket on your lap. In the few minutes you had talked, Gabriel had seemed like a nice man and you weren’t entirely opposed to interacting with him again.

“Only if you wanted it to,” Gabriel replied, his tone soft, understanding. “When is your last exam?”

“Friday, but I technically just have to drop in to give the professor the final paper she assigned. Why?”

“I’ll be in my office in LA this weekend—let me fly you out there and we can talk about it over dinner.”

The logical voice in your head was telling you this could potentially be reckless, dangerous to go see a man you had only met once and let him fly you across the country to get dinner and discuss the possibility of you being his sugar baby, but the other slightly more irrational (and arguably more fun) voice in the back of your head was whispering ‘do it’. You had promised your parents you’d be home a few days before Christmas—you had enough time in between to visit him, so why not? You go and you get murdered—it just meant no more homework. You go and you come back with a sugar daddy—even better. It was a win-win in your head.

“I… Sure.” You could barely hide the eagerness in your voice, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Good. I’ll send you the travel details in a bit. See you Friday.”

#gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #reaper #reaper x reader #modern au #sugar daddy au #sugar daddy!gabriel reyes #sugar daddy!gabriel reyes x reader #photographer!reader #overwatch #overwatch au #my writing

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cilldaracailin · 4 years

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A Kind Of Magic

Hey everyone! Apologies for not posting yesterday. Bit mad with getting back to work and getting caught up on paperwork. But I am back with some more and I will add two updates this evening for all you lovely people! :)

“The only way you can get to know each other is by hanging out.”

“So, you up for a little adventure this evening?” Asked Robyn as they cleaned up after dinner.

Taron stopped washing the empty pyrex dish that had previously been filled with lasagne, bubbles up to his elbows. “What kind of an adventure?”

“Well Wednesday evenings are normally my choir evenings. You want to come with me?” Robyn picked up the clean pyrex dish and started to dry it. “You don’t have to. You are more than welcome to stay here and re-arrange more of my shelves.” Robyn came home from work that day to her bookshelf completely re-organised, Taron finding something else to keep himself occupied in her home, the books now in descending order of height while in their respective collections. When she had walked into her closet to change, Taron had also changed her shoes around so the converse no longer matched, each shoe paired with a different coloured one. “Just thought you might like to come along, sit at the back and listen to what we sing.”

“I would very much like to come along, if that’s ok.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then yes please, I would love to come with you. I’ll happily sit at the back.”

When they arrived at the church, Robyn let Taron pick his seat at the back of the pews while she quickly explained to the choir director that she had a friend visiting and he was going to sit and listen while they rehearsed. He had insisted on wearing his hat again and Robyn made him wear a hoodie too.

“Even with the heat, the church can get cold.” She had said when he questioned it. “And it’s not as warm as it has been.”

Taron watched as the choir warmed up, Robyn lost in all the heads in the alto section, glad she had made him take his hoodie with him, a big difference in the temperature between inside and outside the church. Being immersed in the sound of music from the choir as they practised, Taron felt somewhat at home enjoying how easily the choir director taught her choir, taking time to answer any questions and ensure each section knew their notes and when every section sang together, they came together perfectly. It brought back wonderful memories of being in a choir as a kid.

During their break, Robyn made her way down to him, sitting beside him. “So, you bored yet?”

“Nope. I am very much enjoying myself. Your choir works so well together. The harmonies are beautiful.”

“Why thank you.”

“Can I join?”

“Actually, we are in that period where new members are welcome, so if you want too, I can put in a good word. I mean, I am an original member. I can pull some strings.”

Taron smiled a little. “I think I will stay back here. Don’t want to draw too much attention to myself.”

“Might be a bit late. People are wondering who you are and why you are sitting here all by yourself but don’t worry, I have your cover story sorted.”

“I am afraid to ask.”

“Don’t look so worried. I told them the truth. That you are my friend who has come to visit me and to save my shelves from being further re-organised I dragged you to choir with me.”

Taron chuckled. “I don’t think you have many more shelves I can re-organise.”

She smiled. “I am sure you will find something.” She looked up to the altar as the quick five-minute break ended. “Of the songs that you know we sing, which one would you like us to sing for you?” She took in his confused look. “Maddie wants to put on a little show for you but without everyone knowing why we are doing it. So, we can practise a song of your choosing but they won’t know you chose it so you stay a secret of sorts and I have no idea if any of that made any sense to you so just pick a song for me.”

Taron chuckled. “Well I would love to make you sing your favourite Queen song but I have already seen you preform that one so…” He thought for a moment. “I want to hear Everybody Hurts.” He enjoyed the smile on her face. “You told me that one is beautiful so, yeah that one please.”

“Okie dokie.”

Taron smiled as he watched Robyn almost skip away from him completely in her element as she spoke to Maddie the director, giving him a little sweet smile and wink when she was done, his smile growing wider.

Taron knew he had made the right decision with his suggestion and closed his eyes, taking in every note and sound as Kilcreen’s gospel choir sang the most beautiful rendition of R.E.M’s Everybody Hurts. Robyn had talked about the choir with him as they sat outside in the garden during the weekend and it was an audition free, anyone can join choir who had recorded three albums with three famous Irish singers and bands including Oscar winner Glen Hansard. Taron loved the concept behind the gospel choir, Robyn calling it her second family and their sound was stunning and when they had finished, he found himself on his feet clapping, spotting Robyn in the group grinning at him.

“Incredible.” He called out, tipping his hat to them.

The rehearsal ended and Robyn quickly made her way down to Taron, a wide smile on her face. “Not our first standing ovation but thank you very much.” She said to him. “Ready to go?”

“You don’t want to say goodbye to your friends?”

“You want to answer all the questions they have about who you are? Lots of Elton John fans in here.”

“Right so, let’s go.”

As much as Taron had enjoyed the impromptu performance Robyn had set up for him, he wasn’t ready to be subjected to an onslaught of questions and quickly followed Robyn out of the church and to her car.

“Thanks for this. I like seeing what you get up to.”

“This is about the height of it.” Replied Robyn as she drove them back.

“And good call for the hoodie. The church was a little chilly.”

She smiled. “Weathers supposed to change from tomorrow. No more sitting out in the garden sunning ourselves.”

“I am really going to have to work hard to re-arrange your house tomorrow now that I won’t be able to sit outside.”

Instead of re-arranging Robyn’s shelves on Thursday, Taron spend the day dozing on her couch, feeling tired after a bad night’s sleep. He had no particular reason for his bad nights sleep, putting it down to the two cups of coffee he drank before he went to bed and also the fact that he had been getting a substantial amount of sleep and his body was probably fed up of sleeping. No nightmares, no more pain than usual, just a terrible night’s sleep.

The weather men had gotten it right and the glorious sunshine had turned to dark grey clouds and sheets of endless rain, the temperature dropping right down to the very low teens. Taron had found himself in his jeans for the first time since he had arrived in Robyn’s house and it was also the first time he hadn’t needed the air conditioning. He had kept to the couch watching day time TV catching up with Robyn and her morning at work when she came home for lunch.

“How is Beth?” He asked as they sat at the breakfast bar, eating a toasting sandwich which Robyn had quickly made on a frying pan.

“Terribly disappointed you never turned up for snack on Monday!” Laughed Robyn. “You are her favourite new friend and she used that word not me and she has also been telling all the other children that you like my hugs too.”

Taron grinned. “Well you shouldn’t lie to children and I didn’t. I like your hugs. Beth has good taste.”

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” She asked as she cleared away her plate, Taron still drinking his tea. “Figure out what shelves you want to work on yet?”

“I think I am going to stick to the couch this afternoon. I didn’t sleep too well last night. Might watch another one of your DVD’s.”

“You feeling ok?” She asked as she stood beside him, her hand going to his forehead to check his temperature.”

“Don’t be worrying Robyn.” He said as he took her hand away from his head. “Just a bad night’s sleep. Nothing to do with what happened to us.”

Taron had dropped his body onto the length of the couch his head in the corner when Robyn went back to work and the rain that battered the glass doors of the room was almost soothing to him. He snuggled deep into the teddy bear throw that had made an appearance when Robyn pulled it out for him so he would be comfortable, warm and cosy before she left him alone and closing his eyes, Taron curled up onto his left side, sleep quickly finding him.

When he woke Robyn was sitting next to him with ear phone in her ears and her glasses perched on her nose. Her face was fully focused on the laptop screen in front of her but she saw his slight movement and looked down to him.

“You really did have a shit nights sleep, didn’t you?” Commented Robyn as she pulled the ear phones out. When she arrived home from work, Taron was wrapped up in her favourite throw, looking adorable as he slept. Trying not to disturb him, she set up her laptop on her knees beside him, listening to music as she worked. He woke up about half an hour after she sat down.

“Just happens sometimes.” He answered her. “What time is it?”

“Just after five.”

Taron nuzzled further into the soft blanket around him. “Least it wasn’t another mammoth sleep. Only two hours. I like this blanket.”

“Good for chilly, rainy days. How does pasta bake sound for dinner?”

“Really good. What are you doing?” He moved a little so he could see the screen of the laptop. “ACE’s?”

“Just researching some online training for the staff. Adverse Childhood Experiences.” She explained. “How trauma and upsetting experiences affect a child’s development. Not pretty stuff but unfortunately has to be done.”

“I never really thought about the unpleasant aspects of your job.”

“We shall not then mention the repulsive subject of child protection.”

Taron looked up to her. “Robyn have you…”

“Not that I could talk about it, confidentially and all that, but no, thank God.”

“There is so much more to what you do than just caring for children.”

“Yep but not everyone understands that Taron. I think the term glorified babysitters has been thrown around a lot. Ignorant people who have no idea of the importance of the role of early years educators in a child’s life but anyway moving on. I see none of my shelves have been changed today.”

“I have literally spent my day wrapped up on the couch.”

“Well that’s what happens when you spend your night tossing and turning.”

“Ahh shit did I keep you awake?”

“Even in a queen size bed, one can feel the other moving around.” She looked down to Taron and picked her phone up from beside her. “Don’t be worrying.”

“You are the one going to work every day. You need your sleep.” Replied Taron, his voice muffled as his face was half buried in the throw.

“I have gotten my payback.”

“What? How?” He lifted his head to look at her and groaned when she showed him the picture she had just taken of him, cuddled into the grey and white fleece under him.

“Definitely being added to the wall.”

Friday before lunch, Robyn left work for an hour to bring Taron back to the doctors so he could get his stitches out and the two steri-strips on his forehead were replaced with just one, Doctor Greene instructing Taron to keep resting up and he would be fully recovered in no time.

While Robyn finished her shift at work on Friday afternoon, Taron returned phone calls from missed messages and voicemails to his friends and other family members as well as Lyndsey, this time feeling much better about his conversation with his publicist, finding it easier to talk about what had happened in more detail with those he had yet to speak to.

Robyn strolled into the apartment at four thirty and almost threw herself on the couch.

“Friday!” She sighed happily. “My favourite day.”

“End of the week.” Confirmed Taron. He was sitting on what he now called ‘his couch’ reading one of Robyn’s books. “I have been here for a whole week.” He said quietly.

Robyn titled her head back to look at him but as he was upside down to her, she turned over and sat beside him. “A whole week.” She repeated.

The television was on in the background, adverts on in-between the afternoon entertainment. “I really want to go and see that movie.”

“Sorry what?” Robyn was confused by Taron’s sudden change in conversation topic.

“That new Tom Hanks movie. I would really like to go and see it. In the cinema.”

“Well why don’t you?” She asked holding her hands up to Taron as he gave her his best scowl. “Ok I guess I am missing something here.”

“I usually don’t just walk into a full movie theatre unless it is for an event. Not now anyway. It’s awkward when someone realises who I am, gets a bit uncomfortable.”

“Ok well why don’t we try a late showing here?”

“Here? Your projector?”

“Taron. I am a low-key supervisor and have one, no wait, two celebrity friends. You and Richard.” She said when he looked confused. “I don’t have home access to new release movies but…” Robyn pulled her phone from her trousers pocket. “Normally late late showings here are quiet. Here as in the nearest cinema to me, not here as in my house. About a fifteen-minute drive away. I went to a showing at midnight before and I was the only one there.”

Taron watched as Robyn pulled up the cinema screens near her and checked out the times of the movie. “There is a showing at eleven thirty.”

“As in tonight?”

“Yep and there are only three seats booked. Rest of them are empty.” She looked to Taron. “You up for the movies tonight?” She sensed his hesitation. “Tell you what. Let’s keep an eye on the bookings, see if any more seats fill up and if it stays quiet and we can nab two seats at the back, you want to go?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah sure why not? We don’t have anything else planned, do we? And it’s the weekend and as we discussed last week, Saturdays are for lie ins.”

Taron pulled Robyn close and kissed her right temple. “You are a bloody genius.”

Laughing Robyn looked to him. “I guess that is a yes then?”

“If it stays somewhat quiet, yes I would absolutely love to go and see that movie. It has been so long since I have been to a movie for the joy of going to a movie and not for a press event.”

Seven hours later, Robyn and Taron were sitting in the back row of screen four in her local Vue cinema, one large popcorn between then, Robyn suppling the chocolate m&m’s to go with it.

“Have I told you that you are a genius?” He asked pulling his hat off as the lights dimmed for the start of the trailers and placing it in the empty seat to his right.

“One can never hear enough times that they are a genius!”

Robyn had checked the remaining seats again just after nine and seeing that only seven seats were taken, Taron was happy for her to go ahead and book two for them, right in the middle of the back row. They had chosen a perfect time to arrive as the cinema was practically empty, the queue for popcorn non-existent and as they made their way into screen four, they missed the crowds leaving the other screens.

“This is perfect.” Taron moved so he was more comfortable, Robyn’s shoulders turned towards him as she sat with her left leg crossed over her right. “Only you could get me to the cinema in stealth mode.”

Robyn laughed. “Stealth mode. Seriously Taron? It’s a late late night showing. Most people come to the cinema after work and then head home.”

“This is brilliant.” He said, moving again so his body position didn’t twinge, giving Robyn the popcorn until he was settled.

“Use your coat, if you need to make a sort of cushion for your side.”

The weather was still terrible, rain falling lightly as they left the parked car, Taron finally getting use for the clothes Richard had bought for him, including a dark navy coat.

“No, I am good. Just need to move a little. I will have that back now.” He said taking the popcorn from her.

“Sharing is caring.” She returned, grabbing a handful from the top of the carton, throwing one at him.

“I bought it.” He said taking some for himself.

Robyn scoffed at him. “Really? That’s what it has come too? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius.”

“Ok yeah that’s true.” Taron placed the popcorn between them. “Thanks for this Robyn.”

“Anytime.”

Their movie night had been a complete success and Taron was delighted with his McFlurry afterwards on the way home as Robyn pulled into a twenty-four-hour McDonalds for a late-night desert snack, as well as their sing along to The Greatest Showman in the car on the way home.

Robyn jumped a little as Taron hugged her from behind as she unlocked the house when they arrived home just after two am. “You are probably sick of me saying this, but thank you Robyn.”

She grinned and duck walked into the hallway as Taron was still hugged her, struggling a little to turn off the alarm. “If I promise to do it again will you let me go before the alarm goes off and I wake the neighbours?” Taron dropped his hands, giving Robyn the freedom she needed to get the alarm off in the last three warning beeps. “So tomorrow, you want to make that rainbow cake and maybe try that little café I told you about for breakfast?”

She didn’t need an answer, the smile in his eyes that she saw as she turned on some lights was a good enough answer for her.

They took their seats at the back of the café, just after eleven am the next morning, Robyn asking if they could have the quieter table at the back.

“This is a busy little place.” Taron buried his head a little into the menu in his hands.

“We can go Taron, if it’s too busy for you. I don’t mind.” Robyn knew the café she had brought him too was quite popular for breakfast on Saturday mornings and explained to Taron that it would be, but he had put his hat on and insisted they go. “We can even get the food to go.”

“No way. You promised me this hash thing was the best breakfast, so I am having it and I am having it here. So, which one is it?” Although the town where Robyn lived was an active little town, it was a quiet town and as he scanned the menu, he quickly saw that not one of the other customers were paying attention their way, even after Robyn had said hello to some of them on her way in. It made him feel a lot more comfortable and he lifted his hat a little as the waitress came their way.

“So, what can I get you?” She asked.

“I am going to have your bacon hash without the chorizo and a cappuccino please.” Said Robyn, not even looking at the menu.

“I will have the same but with the chorizo please.” Confirmed Taron.

“No worries. I will bring the coffees over in a minute.”

“Thanks.”

“Coffee Robyn?” Asked Taron. “Not like you.”

“I have a feeling I am going to need the caffeine today if we are going to make this cake.”

Taron grinned. “I am very much looking forward to making this cake.”

“I know, that’s why I need the coffee.”

“I promise I won’t do anything I am not supposed too.”

“And I would believe you, if you were not giving me that Taron look.”

“Taron look?” He questioned.

“The one where you look like you are about to get up to mischief. I have seen it a few times since you have been with me, especially when you are planning something, or have done something you really aren’t meant too.”

“Like re-organise your bathroom?”

“Like re-organise my bathroom.”

Taron had taken the shower first that morning and when Robyn went to take her turn, she naturally reached for her shampoo which was always on her left-hand side but instead she used her shower gel in her hair. Taron had swapped all her toiletries around and Robyn only noticed when she actually looked at the bottles, feeling confused as to why her hair wasn’t lathering up. She wasn’t mad at Taron but did throw one of her cushions at him when she came out of the bathroom when he questioned what took her so long.

“I am trying to think of what else is in my home that you can change.” She smiled. “I am glad I am opening the creche again next week though. Maybe you could have some extra-long sleep in’s so you are only awake from let’s say two pm onwards? Then you only have two hours to fill before I come home.”

Taron chuckled as the waitress bought their coffees over. “Thank you.” They both said to her, Robyn reaching for some sugar as the same time as Taron did, their hands hitting each other.

“Shit sorry Robyn. You go ahead.” Taron pulled his hands back, letting Robyn take some sugar first. “And I mean, change is good right?” Taron took his sugar once Robyn had hers. “And having your plates beside your oven makes no sense. They should be right beside the sink.”

Robyn stopped mid sip. “Excuse you?”

“Your cupboards. They need a good change up too!” Taron innocently took a drink of his cup. “Hmm good coffee.” He was very much enjoying the look on Robyn’s face.

“Taron Egerton, you even think about switching my presses around, you will be out on your ear!”

It was another one of those laughs, that brought the best giggles through him, Taron having to put his cup down as he wiped his eyes, the serious look on Robyn’s normally happy face priceless. It was only the waitress bringing them their breakfast that saved Taron from another fierce look from the woman sitting opposite him.

“Eat your breakfast.” She said to him, but a smile filled her lips as she broke one of the eggs on her plate with her knife.

Taron did, looking to Robyn as he took his first bite. “Oh my God.” He tucked again. “Jesus this is good.”

“Told you.”

Chat flowed easily between the two, as it always did and Taron had to put his foot down, when Robyn wanted to pay after they had finished and he got his card to the man at the cash register first.

“My treat.” Said Taron as he tapped his card on the machine.

“It was meant to be my treat.” Pouted Robyn as they left the café.

“You have already treated me enough. My turn. Now onward to get surprises for cake!”

Taron linked his arm with hers and dragged her gently down the footpath and back towards where she had parked her car. Kilcreen was small and easy to walk around, so Robyn chose to park in the carpark of the large supermarket, only a few minutes’ walk away from the café and it meant they could easily walk into the supermarket and buy the ingredients for the cake Taron was desperate to make. Robyn knew it was going to be a very interesting afternoon as Taron’s giddiness almost doubled with the prospect of finally getting to bake the rainbow cake.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Friendship #Love #Feeling at Home #Food #Singing and Music #Choir Family #Trust #Loyalty #Fun and Laughter

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