#last train trip i was freezing to the bone cause i had a window seat and it had rained in a lot of the states we went thru

[this-doesnt-endd]

I finally figured out why im a huge blanket and pillow and stuffed animal person now when i used to like not even really use my pillows its compensating for the years i slept on the floor

[madpanda75]

“Snow Day”

Rafael Barba x Reader

Prompt 7: Snow for @thefanficfaerie‘s Christmas OTP Challenge

Rafael walked down the hall, his apartment door just a few feet away. His entire body sighed in relief. The weekend was finally here. While Rafael would normally use that time to catch up on paperwork, he walked into his home that Friday evening, wanting nothing more than to relax and spend the next two days with you.

“Y/N?” he called out, only to be greeted with silence. Figuring you were still at the office, he shrugged off his coat and headed into the kitchen where he spied a note on the counter.

“On the roof. Come meet me.” It read in your loopy, cursive handwriting.

As odd as your request was, Rafael complied, taking the elevator all the way to the top of the building. A strong gust of wind smacked him in the face the minute he opened the door to the rooftop.

Rafael instantly spotted you, leaning against the ledge, your hair whipping around as you gazed out at the city. He smiled and walked towards you, past Mrs. Kwan’s flowerbeds and Mr. Russo’s boxers frozen on the washline. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, he placed a tender kiss on your cold cheek. “What are you doing up here, mi amor? It’s freezing,” he purred.

“Do you smell that?” You asked, completely ignoring his original question.

Rafael sniffed the air. “I smell garbage and vent fumes.”

“Not that.” You turned to face him. There was a slightly wild look in your eye. “I smell--”

“Y/N,” he warned. “Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.”

“Snow!”

Rafael threw his head back and groaned. Over the years, he had learned that you had an uncanny way of predicting when there was going to be a snowstorm. It seemed as if all you had to do was say the word “snow” and the next morning there would be 6 inches on the ground. “Y/N, how do you know this? It’s been sunny and clear all day.”

“I have a sixth sense about these things. It’s in the air. I can feel it in my bones.” You shivered and closed your eyes. “That cool sharp sting that makes your skin tingle.”

Rafael arched a brow. “I think that’s called hypothermia.”

“Don’t tease your wife,” you said, playfully smacking his arm. “You watch, tomorrow morning you will wake up to find snow covering our street.”

“Well then we better get inside before we get caught in the storm,” Rafael teased, rubbing your arms to bring some warmth back into your limbs.

*****

Later on that evening Rafael lay in bed, checking on some emails while you were brushing your teeth. The 11 o’clock news playing on the TV suddenly switched over to the weather report.

“Alright folks, get those shovels out! Stock up on that toilet paper and bread because it looks like we’re getting some snow,” announced the meteorologist.

You ran out of the bathroom and pointed at Rafael. “Aha! See! What did I tell you!” You exclaimed with a mouthful of toothpaste before going back to the sink to spit.

“Ok, you were right,” Rafael said with a sigh. He shut down his laptop and placed it on the nightstand, getting comfortable under the covers.

You walked out of the bathroom with a smug smile on your face. “I usually am.” Turning off the lights, you went to the window and pushed back the curtain, looking out at the street below. Your hot breath fogged up the glass. “I love when it snows. The city always looks so beautiful. The world becomes soft and quiet. It’s so peaceful.”

Rafael snorted a laugh. “Sure, if you think treacherous ice, grey slush, and delayed trains are peaceful.”

“Says the man who arranged our ski trip to Gstaad next month,” you retorted and crawled into bed.

“Gstaad is different. That’s a vacation. I can ski and then just relax by the fire with you.” Rafael wrapped his arm around you, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head.  “It’s not like in New York where I slip on black ice in my new Italian loafers and end up in a dirty snow bank that a homeless man just used as a urinal.” At that last part, you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Hypothetical situation,” he replied.

You sat upright, a light bulb going off in your head. “You know what you need? A snow day.”

“A snow day?” Rafael repeated and sat up, his eyes widening.

“Yep, tomorrow you and I are gonna go outside and play in the snow. Who knows, maybe we’ll even melt that icy heart of yours.”

Rafael playfully pinched your side causing you to giggle and squirm. “Says the woman that ended up marrying the man with the icy heart.”

“Actually it was the suspenders and gorgeous green eyes that did it for me. Besides deep down I know you’re a total softie.” You booped his nose with your index finger. “Come on Rafi, unleash your inner child. Have a snow day with me. Please.” You cupped his face and gave him a slow, sensual kiss, your tongue brushing up against his before pulling away with one last playful nip to his bottom lip.

“Not a very fair tactic.” He leaned forward for another kiss only to have you place your hand against his mouth, effectively stopping him.

“So does that mean yes?” You jut out your bottom lip and pouted while batting your lashes, giving him big doe eyes. You knew he wouldn’t be able to say no.

Rafael rolled his eyes and took your hand off his mouth. “Fine, I’ll have a snow day with you,” he grumbled.

You squealed with joy and lunged towards him causing you both to flop back down onto the mattress.

“You know I can’t say no to you, cariño,” he purred, kissing you deeply.

“You’re too good to me. Best husband ever.” You laid your head on Rafael’s chest and dropped a tender kiss over his heart. “Trust me. A few hours outside in the snow and your mind will be forever changed,” you said with a yawn. In a matter of minutes you both were fast asleep, your limbs entwined while outside the snow began to drift down.

*****

You bounced on the balls of your feet, watching Rafael eat the snowflake-shaped pancakes you had made for breakfast. You had already scarfed down yours, excited to go out and enjoy the winter wonderland that seemingly appeared overnight. “You’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?”

“What’s the rush, Y/N? We have all day,” Rafael said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I’m just excited to spend the day with you but you’re right. I’ll just sit here and patiently wait for you to finish eating.” You sat down next to him, drumming your fingers on the counter and jostling your legs. Rafael leisurely swirled a forkful of pancake around some syrup before slowly putting it in his mouth. It was pure agony.

As soon as he had finished his breakfast, you hopped out of your seat. “Ready to go!”

“I guess so,” he mumbled, finishing the last dregs of his coffee. “What’s first on the list?”

“I’m glad you asked that.” You smiled and led Rafael to the hallway closet, pulling out two sleds. “Surprise!”

He shook his head incredulously. “Where did you get those?”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” you said with a wink. “Now come on. Let’s try these babies out!”

You walked arm in arm with Rafael to Central Park, making your way over to Pilgrim Hill which had the steepest slope. Although it was still early, there was already a crowd of people beginning to form. Rafael glanced around nervously. He hadn’t gone sledding since he was a little kid. Aware of the fact that he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, he couldn’t help but envision himself sliding down the hill and shattering his hip bone.

On the other hand, you didn’t seem to worry at all about breaking any bones as you sat in your sled at the crest of the hill. “You excited?”

“Something like that,” Rafael replied, getting in his sled.

You planted your hands on the ground on either side of you. “Ok, on the count of three. One, two, THREE!” Using your hands as leverage, you propelled yourself forward by pushing off the ground, careening down the hill.

Rafael could hear your whoops and laughter all the way down. Now it was his turn. Cautiously, he wiggled his body forward, his sled teetering before falling over the edge.

You looked around for Rafael, finally spotting him flying down the hill. Just as he was about to make it to the bottom, he hit a snowbank. Rafael’s sled caught some air, hovering several feet off the ground only to come crashing down. He fell out of the sled, landing face first in the snow.

“Rafi!” You ran towards him and rolled him over, wiping snow off his face. “Oh my God, are you ok? Are you hurt?” You asked in a panic, scanning his body for any injuries.

Rafael sat up, a smile slowly spread across his face. “Let’s do that again!” He grabbed his sled and started to run back up the hill. “Come on! I’ll race you down next time. Loser has to buy the winner hot chocolate!”

You laughed and ran after him. “Hey! Wait for me!”

*****

You lost track of how many times you and Rafael raced down the hill. When you both were exhausted and no longer in need of your sleds, you decided to give them to a nearby family and went to a coffee shop. Rafael may have ended up winning the majority of the races, but he still insisted on paying for your hot chocolate. The pair of you sat at a small table by the window, watching people enjoy the snow.

“So what’s next?” He asked, after finishing up his drink.

You stood up and took hold of his hand. “Follow me.”

There was a lot more in store for Rafael’s snow day— building a snowman, having a snowball fight, and just enjoying each other’s company. By the afternoon, you both were starving and stopped by your favorite Italian restaurant, only this time Rafael was the one with the surprise.

You left the restaurant to find a horse-drawn carriage waiting by the curb. “Thought we could take this home instead of a cab,” he said.

The carriage was white with plush red cushions. Evergreen garlands and sleigh bells adorned the outside. You approached one of the horses and softly stroked his chestnut brown fur. “How did you plan this?”

“You’re not the only one with a few tricks up their sleeve.” Rafael beamed and opened the carriage door for you.

Once inside the carriage, Rafael lay a blanket across your laps as the driver picked up the reigns, signaling for the horses to go. The sun was just beginning to set and a light snow started to fall. He smiled watching your face light up while riding through the snow-covered streets. You were absolutely radiant, a free-spirited woman who he had fallen madly in love with. You brought so much joy to his life.

“What?” You asked when you caught him staring.

“Nothing. I just had a wonderful time today,” he replied, wrapping his arm around you

You clutched your chest and gasped. “What’s this?! Could it be that Rafael Barba actually had fun in the snow?!”

“Yes, I admit it. You were right.”

“I usually am,” you teased and kissed the tip of his nose where a snowflake had landed. “Get used to it.”

Rafael glanced down at your mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Cupping your cheek, he kissed you deeply. His tongue parted your lips, gently caressing yours. You shivered and pressed your body up against his.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against your lips. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you replied, passionately returning the kiss.

Moving your scarf out of the way, he dropped a kiss to the sensitive spot below your ear as his hand slid underneath the blanket, stroking your knee. “Want me to warm you up when we get home?” Rafael purred, biting down on your earlobe, his hand inching up your inner thigh.

You nodded and softly moaned, tilting your head to grant him further access. “Excuse me?” You called out to the driver. “Are we there yet?”

***** 5 weeks later*****

It was Rafael’s first week back at the office after your ski trip in Gstaad. He had been working late every night, trying to catch up on what he had missed. Luckily, he had managed to leave early on Friday and come home to surprise you. “Y/N?” He called out when he opened the door. Only you didn’t respond.

An overwhelming feeling of deja vu began to sink in. He set his briefcase down and took off his coat, walking into your apartment in search of you. “I hope she isn’t on the roof again,” Rafael mumbled to himself before calling your name again.

“I’m in the bathroom,” you softly replied.

Normally Rafael would give you your privacy, but you were acting strange. In fact you had been acting strange ever since your vacation. “Are you ok?” He asked through the bathroom door.

“I’m fine,” you said after a long moment. “You can come in if you want.”

He opened the door to find you sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “Mi amor, what’s going—” Rafael immediately went silent when he noticed the pregnancy test lying face down on the sink. “Is that what I think it is?”  You bit your lip and nodded. Rafael’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead. “Are you...I mean does that mean you think you’re...” His voice trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

“I don’t know. I think so. I took a test when we were in Gstaad and it was positive but I wanted to be sure. Did you know Schwangerschaftstest means pregnancy test in German?”

“Nope, didn’t know that one.” He ran a hand across his face, warily eyeing the test. “So..ummm..what can I do? Do you need anything?”

“Will you just sit with me? We still have two minutes on the timer.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Rafael sat next to you and took your hand in his. Neither of you said a word to each other. It was the longest two minutes of your lives. Finally the alarm on your phone went off.

You audibly gulped and nervously glanced over at Rafael. “You check. I’m too scared.”

“Of course,” he said, squeezing your hand in reassurance. He went over to the sink and flipped the test over to see the results. Rafael’s heart skipped a beat. Two lines. You were pregnant. A smile slowly spread across his face as he showed you the test. “It’s positive.”

“Really?!” You exclaimed and instinctively pressed a hand to your stomach.

He nodded, his eyes shiny with tears. You screamed and stood up, immediately jumping into his arms. Rafael laughed and held you tightly, kissing every inch of your face that he could reach, your happy tears melding with his.

You sniffled and looked down at the test. “You know, I’m pretty sure we conceived this baby during our snow day.”

“You mean that night after the sledding and the carriage ride, we did this?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach.

“What can I say? It was the snow,” you said with a shrug.

Rafael grinned and placed his hand over your lower abdomen, gazing down at his child’s home in wonder. Bending down, he kissed your stomach before standing up to pull you into his embrace, giving you a tender, sweet kiss.

From then on, every first snowfall of the year, Rafael would think back to that perfect day and the beautiful miracle that came along with it. All because of a little snow.

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone

[katcadecascade]

Snow Much Fun With You

Basically Qrow sends his kids out to play in the snow.

Ao3

If there’s one thing about Atlas is known for, it’s for its perfect snow days.

One would think that the tundra would have blizzards or hail but the elite just love to have everything according to their taste, including the weather. They just have the money and the means to get what they want.

So come morning, Atlas is frosted with flawless white snow.

As a bird faunus born and raised in Mistral then later Vale, Qrow is still not used to seeing weather so utterly peaceful. Rain and wind still chill his bones and the slightest amount of ice brings a great discomfort to his wings.

Still, even he knows a good thing when he sees it and so does his kids.

Usually all the kids are lined up at the two coffee machines or tea kettle as Ren cooks up a quick breakfast before morning briefings. Not today as Nora, Ren, Oscar, and Ruby are practically pressing their noses against the glass windows, eyeing up the winter wonderland beyond the academy walls.

“It’s so pretty,” Oscar awed.

The farm boy probably only seen snow in his books so actually feeling the gentle cold is drastic change in scenery compared to their trip to Argus.

One other Mistral kid is currently drooling.

“I wanna eat it,” Nora said.

“Don’t,” Ren instantly forbade.

“But it looks like ice cream!”

Ruby shook her head, “Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

Oscar snickered, “Wait, did you eat snow before?”

“In my defense I was little and Patch’s snow days were more hail than snow so it all looked like little balls of ice cream.” She snorted at her own memory, “At least I didn’t pull a Yang.”

“You better stop right now Ruby,” her sister warned, setting down her mug of tea next to Blake’s. Yang glare moves to Qrow when he starts cackling too.

Qrow grinned maliciously at his niece, “I nearly forgot about that day, still don’t know what possessed you to lick that street pole.”

To nearly everyone’s surprise, Jaune is the first to laugh at that anecdote. Besides him, Weiss can’t eat her toast, far too disgusted at her teammate’s old hijinks.

“You licked a street pole?” Weiss cringed. “That’s so unhygienic!”

“That’s one way to describe their childhood,” Qrow muttered, recounting the many messes Tai’s girls caused.

“Ewe,” commented the ice princess.

Back with the four snow gazers, they all stare longingly to the cold lawns below, probably wishing to skip out on the meeting or for Oscar’s case, school. As for the three kids seated with Qrow, he can see how their training daze is wearing off, leaving everyone’s excitement dwindling down.

Yeah, Qrow needs to fix this.

“You know,” he begins, gaining everyone’s curiosity, “the garden’s field should be piled up with snow.” Slowly, temptation sparks into the kids’ eyes. “And usually the meetings are just about announcing the mission roster, not a big deal.”

Blake tilts her head, “I don’t think the General or the others would think that.”

“True,” he nods, “but Jimmy owes us one for arresting us.”

“Welp,” Nora perks up, “I don’t need any more convincing!” Her hands are instantly holding onto Ren and Oscar, “Let’s go!”

Her sprint triggers Ruby’s competiveness so red rose petals are blazing out of the kitchen. Jaune jumped out of his seat to follow the rest of his team while Blake and Yang just shared a grin before heading out too.

Weiss frowns at Qrow, “Are you sure about this?”

She acts exactly like her sister except for the way her fingers tap on the table and how her eyes flicker to the door. Qrow sort of expected this from her, stubbornness for her career but the bone deep need of defiance for her own worth or character.

Qrow always seen her as a caged bird, freer and more at ease with her friends out in the world. But she’s back in Atlas, a place she escaped from and had to return for the sake of the world.

His feathers bristle at her fate, large black wings flaring out a little as he places a hand on Weiss’ shoulder, “You deserve all the snow in the world, snowflake, know that.”

Her shoulders lose its tension and she smiles gratefully. Weiss stands up and is about to run out until she freezes up. Qrow is about to reassure her again until Weiss tugs at his arm, dragging him away too.

Huh, little snowflake is stronger than she looks.

In no time they make it to the academy’s garden, which is basically the size of the average park because this is Atlas and Atlas is rich and lives for the aesthetic.

True as Qrow’s word, the entire landscape is blanketed with snow. Some lumps of it are in the open field while the flower beds and bushes are dusted nicely and snow packed trees are lined evenly down the pathways. The kids are already running wild in the snow, feral even as Nora and Ruby do cartwheels and Yang just chucks herself at Jaune, sending them both down.

Oscar, despite shivering, has an almost manic grin as he rolls in the snow. Near him, Blake laughs and lets herself fall into a snow pile. Ren appears to be building the foundations of a snowman.

The moment they enter the garden, Weiss lets go of Qrow to chase after Ruby. There’s no grace or charm in her run, tripping as she reaches the red hooded girl.

Qrow simply leans against the doorway and takes out his scroll to snap a few pictures too. Oh right, he sends a text to Clover about their delay. He switches back over to the camera function, about to press the recording button but coldness smacks his face.

All of his kids are a chorus of laughs and cackles as Qrow whips the snowball off his face. Worst part is, he has no idea who his attacker is. Instincts tell him it’s Ruby though.

He trusts his gut fast as the winds, he beats his wings in one smooth motion to launch himself forwards. Scooping an armful of snow, he charges at his niece to land his ammunition in her face.

Ruby falls on her butt, her hair messier than usual with the snow clinging to each strand. Her gritted teeth and fire in her eyes could probably melt the weather, “This is war old man!”

And thus, the war begins.

Alliances are tedious, what with everyone betraying everyone.

Jaune shoves snow down the backs of Weiss and Nora. Oscar lands a solid hit on Jaune’s forehead. Qrow gets a nasty combo attack from Blake and Ren, both too sneaky for their own good. At some point Qrow gives into old habits to shield Ruby with his wings right as Yang pulls a Taiyang, the signature move of just tearing chunks of snow off the ground and flinging it.

Ruby pops her head out of the feathery shield to stick her tongue out. He has to shove her head back down when the rest of her team decide to aim at their leader.

As she laughs against Qrow’s chest, he can’t help but think how it’s like she hasn’t grown up at all. She’s budding warmth in his life, cradled in his arms and wings and Qrow tussles out the remaining snow out of her hair.

“Having fun kiddo?”

“Yep,” she grins widely and proud, “Thank you for this.”

Qrow doesn’t have an excuse in mind to deflect, too roped up in the snowball fight. Honestly, he’s having fun too.

His kids are just really special, aren’t they?

Ruby gives him one last smile right before she drops a handful of snow on his head. Apparently, that’s a signal for the rest of them to toss snow to rain on top of them.

Never mind, they’re all brats.

Qrow flings his wings out to their full span, scattering lose snow off. He wraps his warms around Ruby’s waist to hoist her up and pins her arms to her side.

He commands to the others, “Get her!”

“NOOO!” She wails as her friends betray her.

It’s a bombardment of coldness, most are targeted on Ruby but she’s a small human shield so Qrow still gets hit too. As long as the brat gets the majority of it, he’s fine.

After that, everyone is tuckered out and snow ridden. While their clothes are designed as water and snow proof, Yang and Jaune did manage to shuck snow underneath because they’re jerks like that.

A loud whistle has everyone facing the doorway to the academy.

Clover sends them all a wryly smirk, his arms full of towels, “Sorry to break this up but we still got work to do.”

Behind the captain, Marrow carries a tray of hot steaming mugs. He asks Clovers with a frown, “Seriously? That’s all you’re going to say about this?”

“You’re just sad you didn’t get invited.”

“I am not!”

Eventually the kids are lined up, grateful for the dry towels and hot chocolate. Qrow lets his kids go before him, so he’s glad that Clover saved the largest towel for him. His wings shiver underneath the cloth, trying to contain as much warmth as possible as all enter the hallway.

“Thanks,” Qrow offers Clover a small smile but he’s a little preoccupied with picking out ice stuck to his wings.

He shivers and twitches a bit. Now that he’s away from the cold weather, it’s easier to feel the small snow pieces stuck between his feathers.

“Are you okay?” Clover halts their walk to examine him.

His gaze is full of genuine worry and care and Qrow can’t help it when his feathers puff up at the tenderness of it all. Many people only see the wings and care for the aesthetic of it rather than who it is attracted to.

Or so Qrow had always told himself. Most of the time his assumptions are correct but it took a while for him to process that people like Tai or Summer actually do look pass the wings and sees Qrow.

Yet there’s something about the way Clover peers into Qrow that disarms him, something that asks for all of his walls to fall down. Qrow can’t help but want to let Clover in.

The kids are already walking ahead but Ruby glances back before urging everyone around the corner, leaving Qrow and Clover in the hallway, the morning sun lights the frosty garden beyond the windows and the quiet atmosphere settling between the two men.

“Just got some snow stuck here and there,” Qrow removes the towel off his wings, lettings them pan out and shake off lingering snow. “I’ll probably have to groom them again. Some parts feel tangled after Nora sent me crashing.”

“That sounds painful, the Nora part that is,” Clover said, knowing from training experience at how enthusiastic Nora is.

“Yeah,” he nods and he can’t help but watch how teal eyes wander over the expanse of his wings.

There’s a soft, gentle look in Clover’s expression, almost dazed yet concentrated on memorizing the individual feathers. None of it felt securitizing or overly analyzing Qrow like he’s an abnormality.

Far from it, he felt safe around Clover. Maybe it’s from how easily they pair up in missions or how pleasant his company is. Qrow wants more of this, whatever this even is.

So biting down his hesitance, Qrow asks, “Would help me later, with my wings?”

Clover’s eyes goes back up to his red ones, both holding onto each other as something unspoken falls between them.

It was always Clover saying that if Qrow ever needs to talk that he’ll be here for him. Qrow has yet to take up that offer, settling for easy silence or card games to entirely avoid his issues.

Now he’s reaching out, trusting something very intimate to share with Clover just because Qrow desires the touch of Clover on him.

If Qrow crumbles from just Clover’s words and eyes, what will happen underneath his hands?

That honestly sends a shiver down his spine. It has been so long since Qrow trusted someone to groom his wings.

“Of course, Qrow,” he promises because yes, it sounds as weighty as devotion.

That realization blooms into Qrow, watching how his own wants and needs reflect in Clover’s eyes. Everything Qrow thought he was imaging or second guessing, the lingering touches and the flirts and the way Clover just watches Qrow in the corner of his eyes, it was all little details that piled together into something big.

And just like with snow, Qrow wants to fall into it.

“Come on, lucky charm,” Qrow doesn’t stop the smile tugging onto his lips as he takes Clover’s hand, “Everyone’s is probably waiting on us.”

He nearly has to pull Clover as he leads them to the meeting room but like always, Clover finds his footing to be at Qrow’s side.

[beerecordings]

“You think you know what pain is?” Henrik to Anti. ;)

okay… I am proud to report…. I have this done.

Bee why did it take you so long??? CAUSE I WAS OBSESSED WITH IT FOR WEEKS OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS STORY. look it is unpolished AF alright maybe the most unpolished fic i’ve ever posted but that is okay cause i love it and I’m proud of it and if i want to clean it up later i can! also! you should know it is very long! so buckle up if’n you want to read it!

can you believe i wanted to have this done for schneep week i’m so late… but i loved writing it. thank you for requesting nikkil!!

Warnings for major abuse, blood and torture, pneumonia, and hypnosis with mild sexual themes (Anti kisses, strokes, at one point runs his hand over Jameson’s stomach. That’s the worst of it but no read if it will be too creepy)

Since writing this, I used it to create a story-blog about a variation of these characters (though this scene is not canon to that universe) called @my-brothers-corrupted. Feel free to check it out.

The Missing Piece

Citylights rush like wind across the glass of the window, casting him,intermittently, in gold and in darkness.

Doktorstares down at his feet.

Thedirty silver floor of the bus rattles against his torn up dress shoesas he shuffles uncomfortably, trying not to let his shoulder brushagainst that of the sleeping stranger at his side. Above the smell ofsweat and someone’s heavy magnolia perfume, the smoke of the citycurls around him in a gasoline purr, staining his mouth with thetaste of engines and fast food, dripping down his throat to sit inhis lungs, in his chest, near to his slow-moving heart.

Hewishes he had the strength to be annoyed.

Mosteveryone on the bus is silent, pressed against the backs of theirchairs or the cool, vibrating window panes, worn into quietude bylong days and long journeys. It’s late and everyone would rather beat home, asleep.

Doktorwishes he could sleep. Sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep.Sleep and sleep and not wake up again.

Themissing piece is the only one who seems to have any energy.

Glancingacross the aisle, Doktor’s eyes land on the boy’s black dress shoes,tapping rapidly against the floor. Higher up, he sees his worn handsgripping hard at the thighs of his slacks, clenching and unclenchinghis fists around the soft fabric. There is blood on his whitebutton-up shirt, but it is dark enough that no one has noticed. Smallmercies.

Jamesoncoughs frailly. His head is still but his eyes flicker wildly aroundthe bus, like the rolling pupils of a horse trapped in a house onfire. Henrik supposes he’s looking for help. For comfort. Foranything and anyone to save him.

Poorthing.

Jamesoncoughs again, a little louder. Doktor realizes he is doing it onpurpose, trying to attract attention to himself. Not easy with aguard dog at your side. Doktor shoots him a warning glare and thensits back, trying not to look at him.

Buthis hands are making a small sign, over and over again, shaking butdetermined, stiff but desperate –

“S,”signs Jameson, his mouth quivering. “C. H – ”

Ahand shoots out to snatch his wrist and Jameson jumps hard, curlingback against the seat of the chair, his face losing color in therapid-passing shadows of the city rushing past.

Redsqueezes the missing piece’s wrist so hard Doktor knows it willbruise black. Then he leans in, close enough that his hood brushesagainst Jameson’s downy brown hair, and he whispers – in words onlyheard by his brothers – with a voice so harsh as to cut the ear –

“Youso much as lift a finger and I will deliver your corpse to thedumpster personally.”

Thelight of a nearby casino rushes over the bus. Jameson’s tears areilluminated in gold.

“AmI understood?”

“Yes,”knocks Jameson, biting hard on his lip.

Redlets him go in silence and sits back.

Doktorsits back too.

Theyare just passengers like everyone else.

Amemory flashes across him the same way the lights do, here and thenleft behind in an instant.

Heremembers, with a nauseating effort of the will, a happier day, withJameson perched at his side just the same. His face was full of joyand he was smiling at him, his hands moving in rapid words now lessthan half-remembered. Their train raced past little white sheep inlittle green pastures, and Jameson spent half the trip staring at thewindow, slumping back occasionally to rest against Doktor’s shoulder.He was as warm as an engine against him, healthy, whole, andunharmed. He called him by a name Doktor can no longer recall.

Hecan’t remember where they were going or why. But he seems to rememberthat joy.

Thedarkness swallows him whole again. He closes his eyes and tries toforget.

It’seasier, these days, to obey.

It’seasier not to remember.

Thisis a time of pain.

Steppinginto the reach of the monster is a relief so heavy it is bettercompared to opium than home-coming. Outside Anti’s power there isconfusion, fear, guilt, and doubt above all else. Within it?

Doktorsteps across the thresh-hold of the abandoned house where they havetaken refuge and breathes in deep, shuddering hard as the darknesssteals back inside of him.

Bliss,bliss, bliss, bliss, bliss –

Hewishes he could spend every second of the rest of his life in thevery heart of Anti’s control, mindlessly numb, overwhelminglycontent, but unfortunately there is only so far his master canstretch, and so whenever he is sent away on missions like this one,he does his best to return home quickly.

Jamesonseems less relieved to enter the run-down little house. His wide eyesstare at the room around him, flickering over squirming rats andpatches of white mold patterned along the walls, until at last hisgaze lands on Trickshot, and he stiffens as though impaled.

Trickstares right back.

“Holyshit,” he whispers, and then his mouth breaks into a smile coldenough to re-freeze icebergs. “You found the little mouse. Donerunning, bitch?”

Jamesonflinches, turning his gaze away. Trickshot gets to his feet,approaching easily and grabbing JJ’s chin, lifting his face up to thelight.

“C?”signs Jameson frantically, forgetting his guardian for a moment.“What’s happened to – ”

Redsnatches his hands and yanks him towards his chest, throwing him offbalance and then shoving him hard to the ground, where nails and anundrying moisture found perpetually on the wooden slats of the floorpress against his palms. Jameson, mouth open with pain, gasps andcrawls backwards, clutching at the wounds from the fight –

Trickshotgrabs the boy by the back of his shirt and drags him to his feet.

Punishedfor speaking, Jameson makes good use of his large eyes instead,staring at what was once his brother with an undeniably agonizeddesperation in his eyes, reaching out to cling to the soft fabric ofthe torn grey shirt Trickshot wears.

“Getthe fuck off me,” snaps Trick in a voice so thin he can barely beheard, shoving his hands away. He decides to grip his hair instead ofhis shirt and Jameson scrambles as the pressure on his scalp pullshim onto his tip-toes, his face contorting with pain.

“Poorlittle thing,” purrs Trick in a babying voice, still rasping fromhis purple-bruised throat, using his spare hand to grab Jameson’schin and tilt his head up to what little light comes from theflickering overhead. “You beat him to hell, Hoodie!”

Theirony of this is that Trick is hardly better off himself. For everybruise, broken bone, and cut that Jameson’s body took tonight, thereis at least one match on Trickshot’s skin. His master has not beenkind to him. When it comes to a hierarchy, they all know whereTrickshot falls – the very bottom of the pack.

Tricktries to lift Jameson off his feet, but a sudden bout of coughingforces him to let his brother go. He doubles over, shaking handsclutching at his aching chest, and coughs so deep and so hard that itsounds as though pieces of bone are being shaken off his ribs.

Doktorwatches wearily, a little irritated. One more sickness he’s going tobe expected to fix. Red reaches over to smack the back of his head.“Do something, Deutsch!”

Yelping,Doktor grabs his smarting skull and staggers away, well wary of Red’stemper. “No medicine,” he whispers, scuffing his way towards theother room.

“Oh,that’s your fucking excuse? You’re supposed to be a doctor!”

Doktorhides his face in his hands, cowering against the wall, but all Reddoes is roll his eyes and turn away, shoving Trick to the side. Heheads toward the stairs, his victory only barely soured by hisbrothers’ stupidity. “Master, I found him!” he calls, smiling ashe moves down, down into the darkness of the basement. “I broughthim back for you!”

Removinghis hands from his eyes, Doktor turns to see if Jameson is afraid,but there is nothing in his eyes but worry. He’s helping Trickshot tostay standing, rubbing warmly at his chest. Trick does not have thestrength to push him away.

Andthen the darkness is upon them.

Jamesonwhirls wildly, his fighter’s hands out-stretched. Doktor catchessight of Trickshot staggering away, retreating from Anti’s attention.He knows it would be safer for him to run too, but he needs Antiright now – needs something to extinguish these thoughts in hishead – pity and guilt and concern, all useless remnants of a timewhen Jack was the one who pulled his strings.

Heneeds Anti to make his brain stop asking his mouth to say, Jameson,I’m sorry, run, now, while there’s still time –

“Arzt,”calls Anti’s voice, a whisper that echoes from every side, and Doktorjumps to attention, staring around him. “Bring my new little puppydown here.”

Jamesondoesn’t turn to run fast enough. Doktor’s grip on his wrist is tightas a blood pressure cuff.

“H-E-N-R,”he begs, and Doktor grabs his other hand and begins yanking himtowards the basement, dragging him across cold cement and oldbloodstains.

“Doctor,doctor, doctor,” signs Jamie again and again, using what littlemobility his hands have. He has begun to cry. Doktor will not look athim. Cannot look at him. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, brother,brother.”

“Child,be silent,” Doktor whispers.

Henever does anything more than whisper these days.

“Youwill only make this harder.”

Hedrags Jameson down to his master.

“Wereyou a good boy?”

“Iwas such a good boy,” Red swears, collapsed against Anti’s chest,his eyes shining with adoration. “I was so, so good. I brought himback to you, right back to you.”

“Yeah,you took good care of me.”

“Itook good care of you, you’ll be safe now. All the threats are gone.”

Red’seyes well with tears and he chokes, so overwhelmed with love that fora moment he cannot breathe at all. He shudders and puts his head downon Anti’s shoulder, stroking a hand through his hair. “I was nevergoing to let anything hurt you,” he promises, a sacred whisper.

“Iknow,” Anti soothes, running the flat edge of his blade alongJackie’s throat. “I know you weren’t, good boy.”

“Littlebrother,” hums Hoodie, daring to plant a kiss on Anti’s cheek.“Little brother. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Iwant to ask you something.”

“Yes,Anti.”

“What’sthe boy’s name?”

“JamesonJackson, Anti.”

“Jackson,do you like that?”

“Um,I don’t know. Do I?”

“Isthere anything you could shorten that to?”

“LikeJack?”

“Yeah,you could shorten it to Jack. Or maybe Jackie, would that be good?”

“Doyou want me to call him Jackie?”

Antigrins, dark and sweet.

Victorytastes like blood.

“No,sweetheart,” he purrs, pinching Red’s cheek. “Just wanted tocheck if that meant anything to you. You did so well today. You canhave something to eat tonight. Alright, time’s up. Get up. Good boy.Go sit with kitty for a minute.”

Simmeringwith pride, Red makes his way to the corner of the room and sits downat Blue’s side. The cat is sleeping, chained tightly to the wall, tooexhausted to wake up even for a newcomer. Red curls up fondly at hisside, playing with a length of his brother’s hair.

“Doc,”calls Anti warmly. “You come here.”

Doktorstartles, turning to look at Anti, adorned in blood on his throne, arotting wood chair in the basement. At his feet, Jameson Jackson isso unconscious Doktor cannot see his chest moving for air.

Antiattacked him like a shark in a frenzy.

Heldhim up in front of Doktor and Red and Blue one at a time and askedhim, mocking, which one of his big brothers would be the one to savehim now.

Promisedhim that it would be only a few days before he, too, was swallowedwhole by Anti’s power, begging like an animal for attention andaffection.

Beathim until his whole face was slicked in blood and bruises.

ButJameson did not beg or cry or complain. He took it with courage.Doktor remembers, very distantly, a time when he was more courageoustoo. Someone was torturing him, he remembers, but he tried so hardnot to give in. The details are slipping away from him.

“Deutsch,”calls Anti, a warning in his voice now. He does not like to wait.

Doktorhurries to his side.

“Howabout you?” he asks, getting up from his throne. He steps overJameson’s fingers. Doktor winces at a cracking sound. “Were you agood boy today?”

Whitewith terror and relief – Doktor does not know how he can besimultaneously so happy and so scared to see someone – he manages asmall nod, trying to smile.

“Youbrought the missing piece back to me, didn’t you?”

Anothernod. He can’t breathe. He wants to drown. With shaking hands, hereaches out, desperate for some comfort.

“Youdid well,” murmurs Anti, and takes him in his arms.

It’slike crashing into a river when you don’t know how to swim. But thewater is warm and he is little more than a corpse in its grip,sliding forward in Anti’s hands, a low groan trembling its way out ofhis mouth.

“Idid well,” he whispers. “I did, I did, I did…”

Henearly trips over Jameson and his eyes flicker down over his body,his poor face shattered into bone and blood, an agony written uponhis silent mouth even in sleep, and he is small and thin and so veryworn, still injured from the battle with Red, which must have hurthim in more ways than one –

“Doktor.”Anti has his mouth close to his ear, holding him tight. “You focuson me. Focus on master, there’s my good boy. You like being here withme?”

Doktorsways in place, swallowed by a wave of dizziness. “Yes, of course.”

Antitakes his chin gently in his hand and lifts up his head. Deutschmeets his gaze and shudders, and then smiles, his eyes glazing over.

Anti’seyes are dark and endless, colder than the stomach of the ocean,deeper than philosophy. Doktor chokes, collapsing against him,gripping at his brother’s shirt.

Theday is slipping away from them. What did he even do all day? Wherewas he?

“Closeyour eyes,” whispers Anti.

Doktorobeys. He always obeys. There is no other way to live. Just drowning.Just drowning. Anti curls his fingers through the hair of his nape ofhis neck. Yanks just hard enough to hurt, but Doktor doesn’t careanymore.

“Oh,I’m so tired,” Doktor whispers.

“Iknow.”

“You’rethe only thing I care about.”

“Iknow, baby.” It tooks him months to perfect this, but it’s done.Doc was his, and then the others, and now – oh, and now, his lastlittle missing piece. Jameson will be his too, soon enough, soonenough. “But listen, I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes,Anti, anything.”

“Red,you listen too.”

Redjoins Doktor at Anti’s side. Jealousy stings through them both, butthey’ll bottle up the anger for later, taking it out on each other inunexpected blows and stitches tugged too tight.

“Ineed time with my new puppy. He has to be broken in. You two willkeep things running while I work. Okay?”

“Yes,Anti,” they promise in sync.

“Red,anyone gets too close or too suspicious, you’re the one who takescare of it, alright? Doc, I want you to clean this little bitch up atthe end of the day when I’m done with him. And get rid of Trickshot’sfucking cough. If I have to hear him wheezing anymore I’ll go chophis head off.”

“Yes,Anti.”

“Good,then. Kitty cat, go with your brothers, you’re boring me.”

Blueopens pained eyes and drags himself to his feet. There is blood inhis hair. Doktor doesn’t remember who attacked him. Red takes hisbrother under his arm and leads him towards the stairs, pausing togive Anti a winning smile.

Hashe always had those scars, scattered like cross-hatching across hisface? Doc doesn’t think so, but he can never remember anymore. He cannever remember anything.

Forjust a second, he sees as though before his eyes Red and Blue inanother life, both smiling like twins, healthy and whole, unscarredand reaching out to him, the third star in their triangulum, a littlefamily, completely whole.

Wasthere a time before Anti?

“Goon, Doc-Doc.”

“Yes,Anti. But are you sure… are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Antilooks up, anger flashing through his eyes. Doktor backs slowlytowards the wall, turning down his gaze.

Hedidn’t mean to question. It’s just that he’s a doctor. He’s supposedto look after his brothers.

AndAnti?

Antilooks exhausted to the core of his being.

Athis feet, blood is leaking from Jameson’s eyes.

“Can’tbelieve this,” grumbles Red, pacing around the room. “Can’tgoddamn believe this.”

“Justgive it to me,” rasps Doktor. “No use complaining.”

Fuming,Red hands over vaporub and cough medicine and stalks away again. Thedull light of the paneless windows cast him in a cold evening light.

“Idon’t feel good,” moans Trickshot, writhing with fever in Doktor’slap. “I don’t feel good, I don’t feel good, I don’t feel – ”

“Hush,”orders Doktor harshly, shaking his shoulders. “Hush, you will annoyAnti.”

Trickwhimpers and falls into silence, but his rough breaths are scratchingtheir painful way up from a chest that is heavy with infection.

“Thisis pathetic,” gripes Red, glaring down at his little brother. “Hecan’t keep getting sick like this. We could have spent that money onfood if he wasn’t such a little bitch.”

“Ican’t handle pneumonia without better equipment. He needs to go tothe hospital,” mumbles Doktor, wetting someone’s spare t-shirt withwhat little water they have and pressing it to his forehead, openingup the chest rub with his free hand.

“Shutthe fuck up,” snaps Red. “You know we can’t do that. Keep himalive.”

Doktorcloses his eyes, rocking gently back and forth over Trickshot’s body.He stopped screaming or weeping or breaking down a long time ago, andnow he just shivers and rocks and hides his face when he needscomfort, understanding that none will come.

Redand Trick tell him he’s losing his mind. But it’s better than livinglike they do, devolving into panic attacks on the daily, so desperatefor Anti’s attention that they can barely function without praise anddirect orders. And meanwhile, Blue…

Redgrits his teeth at the low sound of skin grating against wood. “Blue,cut it out,” he growls, stalking over to drag his brother’s wristsaway from the sharpest piece of rotting wall he can find in thehouse. Blue’s collar jangles as Red pulls him to his feet and moveshim away. “You can’t even kill yourself properly, can you, kitty?Hey, hey, come on, look me in the eyes, you can do it.”

“Don’tmake him,” sighs Doktor, rubbing Trickshot’s chest slowly. Hisbrother stills under his hands, mumbling Anti’s name in what could bedreams or nightmares.

Redsighs and sits down with Blue slumped against his shoulder, strokinghis hair absent-mindedly. Blue doesn’t respond. Blue never respondsanymore.

“Youshould be more concerned about Trickshot,” whispers Doktor, in arare show of defiance. “He’s not well.”

“Don’ttell me what to feel, Deutsch. Ask me, you’re both wastes of fuckingoxygen. Hey, maybe he will die! It could just be me and Blue andAnti… the kid too, I guess…”

Doktorshivers, clutching Trick closer to his chest. Sometimes he’s scaredRed will kill him. Then again, he knows better than anyone where hisweak spots are – the slash in his stomach that JJ gave him in theirfight, the pains in his back they never seem to go away, everytrigger to send him into babbling terror, his eyes blown wide withconfusion and distress, screaming about the memories he’s lost –

Well.He just hopes it doesn’t come to a fight.

Bluebegins coughing low, low in his chest, trembling against Red’sshoulder.

“Oh,not you too,” groans Red, squeezing him close. “Oh, oh, Anti willbe furious if his pet gets sick. Doktor, stop it. My twin…”

“I’mdoing my best with vaporub and cough drops,” growls Doktor, tryingto get some water into Trick’s mouth.

Downstairs,Anti begins shouting. All four of them flinch as one, and Trick’seyes flash open full of panic.

“I’msure he’s going to finish with Jameson soon,” says Red, with bothadoration and terror in his mouth. “Then he’ll be happier. He’sjust doing what’s best for him.”

“Anti,Anti,” cries Trick. Doktor doesn’t know if he’s calling for him orcalling for help. Blue has gone so stiff he could be a corpse,staring dead-eyed at the wall. If he thinks anything on his ownanymore, he doesn’t show it.

Thisis a house of pain.

Doktorstares at the pathway to the basement.

Thisis a house of pain.

Whydoes he stay?

Hisstrings are slipping.

Antigags on a wave of weakness and throws JJ hard to the earth, steppingdown on his throat and turning away, taking deep breaths while thelittle one chokes.

“Glitchbitch,” signs the boy, between useless attempts to shove the footoff his neck. “Bastard, monster, virus, asshole.”

“Stupidlittle puppy,” croons Anti, pressing down on his throat. “Stillacting like you can defy me.”

He’shad Jameson for three days. It’s going well with the missing piece.Everday Jameson slips closer to his control.

Butthe problem is he’s stretching himself too thin. Even the bestpuppet-master can only move so many toys at once. Corruption takespower. It takes energy. Anti is running out. But he just needs tobreak this last little creature, this last little puppet. Just onemore corruption. He will not fail now.

“Iwill defy you,” Jameson promises. Anti finally lets up on histhroat and he draws in huge gasping breaths, slumped against theconcrete.

“Youdo your brothers a disservice,” says Anti. “Don’t you know theysaid the same? And now, what are they? I will make a liar of you too,little doll.”

Thebasement is cold as gravestone. Anti is the heater in the middle ofit, radiating warmth too heavily without any of it transfering to theroom around him. The only way to share his heat is to be touched byhim.

Hetakes a deep breath. For once in his life he needs to keep his calm.He leans down and puts his hands on Jameson’s wrists, falling to hisknees to straddle his hips, pinning him down against the stingingcement.

Jamesonturns his face away but does not protest. He is losing strength witheach day that passes. Anti knows how weak to keep him to stop himfrom using his powers, cutting frequent blood out of his back andstriking his aching head several times a day. He has not slept oreaten and any attempt to change the course of time will destroy him.He’s considering it.

Themoments where Anti tries to drag him under have become warm relief inthe middle of the torture.

“Comehere, baby,” purrs Anti, stroking his knuckles over his cheekbone,running his fingers across his mouth. “Come here, look at master.”

Jamesontries to get his hands together so he can sign the “h” thatbegins the word “hatred.”

Antigrabs a knife and slams it into Jameson’s shoulder. Pain sends hiswhole body into spasms, his body contorting with agony, his eyesrolling back in his head, and he is losing consciousness fast.

“It’sokay,” whispers a soft voice, and he knows it is Anti, but it couldso damn easily be any one of his brothers, torn away from him, couldbe Marvin or Henrik or Jackie or Chase –

Heis crying so hard he cannot breathe. When was the last time anyonetouched him? All he’s done for months is run.

“It’sokay.” Anti is stroking his hair. Stroking his stomach. Strokinghis wrists. He’s been starving to be touched and Anti is wonderfullywarm, even if his nails are overgrown and his teeth are just a littletoo sharp and one of his eyes is venomously black, a single greeniris shining down on Jameson’s smoke-grey face. “I’m sorry, I knowthis is scary. But listen, you’re going to be with your brotherssoon, right? You’ve missed them. Haven’t you?”

Hehas, he has, he’s been so lonely, he nods –

“Iknow,” sighs Anti, putting a firm pressure on Jameson’s shoulders,making his collarbone ache. He smells of blood and sleep. “Iunderstand. I can see every part of you, you know. I understandeveryone and everything. It will be so easy, once you’re mine. I’lltake that pretty clock and tie you up like Marvin and you can be mylittle puppy. No one will ever hurt you again. You won’t have to feelanything but this.”

Andwarmth and joy and relief and love come crashing over Jameson like ahigh, come flowing down the folds of his brain, trickling down histongue and down his throat, and he is melting like a witch in water,sinking down into Anti’s power –

“Openyour eyes,” calls a voice, gentle, gentle. He is held, carried,carressed. “Just open your eyes for me. Be a good boy. It’s alleasy after this. It will feel so wonderful. Open your eyes, Carver.”

That’snot his fucking name.

Justlike Doktor isn’t Henrik’s and Red isn’t Jackie’s and Trickshot isn’tChase’s and Blue isn’t Marvin’s, damn the glitch who stole his familyaway from him!

Hejerks up and slams his elbow into Anti’s nose, sending blood gushingfrom the demon’s nose. Falling back, Anti lets out a horrible screamof rage, the sound that metal makes as it grinds together, and thenhe is up again, coming forward again, holding a knife again, and whatcan Jameson do but cower?

“Iwill teach you pain,” Anti snarls. His teeth are gritted tight andhe no longer looks human. He is warm. He is too warm. He burns. “Iam pain and you will know me better than you know yourself, and then,before this is over, you will be mine, and forget the taste of yourown name, puppet kid.”

Doktordreams of bloodshed and video games.

Heholds a warm little computer mouse, shifting it across a pad on awooden desk. Everything is bright and clear and clean. He feels welland there is coffee next to his hand.

Fromthe speakers, a recorded cough and a splutter. A spray of simulatedblood hits the other side of the screen and Doktor adjusts in hisseat, reaching out to click on a button to order a lung exam for thepatient.

“Don’tworry now,” he narrates to the computer character, smiling at theblinking red eye of a camera near to his head. “The good Doktorwill make everything better, you will see!”

Thecharacter coughs again. Doktor realizes the game has not reacted tohis order. “Gah,” he growls, throwing up a hand and clicking onthe button again. “Come on, dumb machine.”

Still,the game does not respond. The character coughs and then groans,doubling over for a moment, its face still drawn into an unmovingsmile, dead-eyed and cold.

“Gottverdammt,”hisses Doktor, clicking once, twice, thrice. How frustrating, to knowwhat needs to be done and be unable to do it.

“Stopcoughing,” he begs, as the character shivers. “I’m trying to fixit. I will not have you die.”

Thecharacter reaches up to touch its chin and then draws away again.Startled, Doktor recognizes the sign for “please.”

“I’mtrying,” he says. “I am, I’m trying. I’m doing my best. I’m doingwhat’s right. I am, I am.”

Heclicks the button. Clicks, clicks, clicks. Why won’t it goddamn load?

“Stopdying,” he cries, slamming the mouse against the computer. Thetaste of copper is filling up his own mouth. His chest aches. A waveof heat rushes over him like sunlight exploding over the earth in themorning light. “Please, I’m scared, don’t die.”

Heneeds to get out of the whole program – he should get out of thewhole program – but how can he leave his patient behind? The othersare too sick to run with him. He cannot go until he saves them. Hecannot lose them! The memory of joy is sudden and present in hismind, but only for an instant, and then it is swallowed whole againby this terrible pain, pain, pain –

“Please!Let me save him!” he screams, and the character, deaf to his cries,is begging “please, please, please” in return, coughing harderand harder and harder. Blood drizzles down the screen. Doktor reachesout to touch it and his fingers come away red now, perhaps not sosimulated after all. He strikes the side of the computer and shakesit and click, click, clicks, but nothing happens, nothing saves him.There is only the heat of the patient’s fever and the dry heaving ashe chokes on pneumonia, bent over, collapsing, and Doktor lashes outtoo suddenly and spills his coffee, only it is blood that pours downfrom the edge of the mug, filling up the room like a flood –

Hedoes not scream upon awakening. Only gags, and whimpers, and rocks inplace, tears drizzling down his face.

Trickshotis hot at his side, trembling, coughing, conscious. Across the room,Anti’s twins sleep side-by-side, hunger and fatigue making themghostly in the moonlight, Blue touching Red with an out-stretchedhand abandoned on his shoulder.

“Trick?”whispers Doktor, trying to ground himself again, trying to banish thedream. He would call it a nightmare but he’s had far worse. “Trick,why are you awake?”

It’sstill dark out. It often is. Doktor guesses it is around three.

“Whatdid you dream of?” mumbles Trickshot, staring up at him withover-bright eyes. “Something nice?”

Hesmiles a little flicker of a smile, his mouth trembling.

Doktorsighs, calming. Just a bad dream, right? He’s not stuck. He’s notfrozen. He can take care of his patients. “Should not speak of it,”he tells him, pulling him straighter up, to help him breathe.Coughing must be keeping him awake. “You are weak. Go back tosleep.”

“I– I feel very weak,” concedes Trickshot. He sniffles and tearscome running out of his eyes. Doktor presses a hand to his foreheadand finds him burning. “Do you think Anti will let me die? Do youthink he will kill me? Did you dream of something nice?”

“Stop,Trick, stop, stop.” Doktor smooths down a bandage hanging off hischeek from where somebody struck him hard enough to break flesh.“You’re delirious. Don’t upset yourself. Go back to sleep.”

“Something– b-bright and lovely, maybe something where you were happy, didyou dream of – did you dream of something – ”

Hebegins coughing and must clutch at his heart, curling in on himself,agony coursing through his body. “Did you dream of something nice?”he stammers out, wheezing, working himself swiftly towards a completebreakdown. “Did you dream of – ”

“Trick,stop!” snarls Doktor, grabbing him by the throat in a sudden flashof fury. Trick gags and whimpers, collapsing against the floor,shivering in the cold night air.

Doktorreleases his throat, a rare twinge of guilt making itself known inhis stomach. As apology, he reaches out and touches the side ofTrick’s head awkwardly, frowning down at his blueing mouth. “Youreally are so sick,” he whispers, brushing down a strand of hissweaty hair. “Poor thing.”

“Don’tfeel good.”

“Iknow. Why don’t you tell me what you dreamed of, huh? I don’t want totalk about my dreams but you can. Did you dream of something nice?”

Trickshotpauses, biting his lip, and then nods, tears welling again in hisbright blue eyes. “A baby,” he whispers.

“Ababy?”

“Alittle dark-haired baby, so, so warm, so, so beautiful, and I washolding him and I reached out and he wrapped his tiny little handaround my finger and fell asleep in my arms.”

Doktordidn’t mean to make him cry. Trickshot devolves into sobbing againsthis brother’s stomach, shaking with fever and grief alike.

“Quiet,quiet,” begs Doktor, gripping at his shoulder. “Don’t disturbhim, don’t make him angry.”

“Mybaby,” gasps Chase, growing closer to death. “I want my babies, Iwant my baby, where is he, where is he, where is he?”

“Stop,stop, don’t say such things, Anti will kill you.”

“Antiwill not give me my child back,” weeps Chase. “Not even thememory of him, not even his name. I can’t remember my baby.”

“Trick,”says Doktor. “Trick.”

Andthen there is the static warning of their brother’s appearance, andthey both stiffen like scarecrows, curling in on each other as theywait for him to turn shadows into form.

Glitchessplit the air around them and Trickshot pretends to be asleep againstDoktor’s stomach, near to passing out anyway. Cold static ringsthrough the air like a tornado warning.

“Cleanhim up.”

Antiis standing behind him so suddenly that Doktor nearly gasps aloud,rocking faster and faster. “C-clean Trickshot up?”

“No,you stupid little bitch,” snarls Anti. He grabs him by the hair andDoktor gasps hard enough to hurt the back of his throat, staggeringupright. “Jameson. In the room on the other side of the house. Go.Let him die and you cannot imagine the pain I will inflict upon you,am I understood? Darling?”

“Yes,Anti.”

“Go.”

Hereleases him and disappears back into the shadow.

Tricklies at his feet, trying not to cough. Blood stains the corner of hismouth.

Doktorreaches down to touch him – but no, he cannot care for him, notnow. He must go the missing piece.

Panting,he abandons Trick to his coughing and heads towards the spare room.They think it used to be a kitchen once, before the house was halfwaydemolished and then abandoned, but now there is nothing but missingtile and cockroaches and one drawer full of knives in the corner.There certainly isn’t any food.

Jamesonis chained to the porcelain body of what might have been a sink. Heslumps back against the clay, his chin fallen onto his chest. He isbreathing, but only slow, only thin.

Doktorapproaches.

Litteredwith wounds, frail as a broken-wing bird. He coughs. Doktor cleansgashes and stitches them back together, wipes away blood and wraps upbruises, relocates a broken wrist and makes the boy scream, his eyesrolling back in his head as he staggers about between consciousnessand shadow.

Hecoughs.

Doktorreaches out to touch his cheek.

Hecoughs.

Doktorswallows back memories of him.

Bright-eyedbrothers moving like light through a window, clean whole faces andthe steady rising and falling of the breast, a smile on the boy’sunspeaking mouth –

Hecoughs.

Hecoughs.

Hecoughs.

Doktorburies his face in his hands and rocks, rocks, rocks, cries until hecannot breathe either; listens, despairing, to the coughing of hisbrothers, scattered like weapons cast aside through Anti’s house.

Howcan this be worth it?

Howcan this pain be worth it?

Fromthe darkness, Anti is watching.

Doktorwas the first one to lose the fight to his power, and now he is thefirst to feel the strings loosening about his throat. Something mustbe done.

Buthe is too tired to drag Henrik back under.

“Givein.”

“Iwon’t.”

Bloodsplurts from Jameson’s throat. His mouth jerks open in a horriblesilent scream and he writhes in Anti’s grip, tearing at the handsaround his neck.

“Isthat the best you can do?” laughs Anti. He lets Jameson go, his armgrowing tired from holding him up, and the boy collapses like a pileof flesh. “Really, no sound at all? Can’t you wheeze or something?I’m bored.”

“Bitch,”signs Jameson. He rolls back and forth against the ground slightly,trying to work through the pain, trying to stop crying. He doesn’tknow how much more of this he can take.

“I’mabout to cut your hands off if you don’t watch your tongue,” Antiwarns, sitting down beside him and drawing his head into his lap.“Come on, can’t you whine or something?”

Jamesonis bewildered on top of irritated now. “What the fuck do you expectme to do? Regrow my vocal chords? I can’t vocalize.”

“Maybeyou’re not trying hard enough,” grins Anti.

Exhausted,exasperated, pissed, Jameson holds up his middle finger and lets thatspeak for him.

Antihums and leans in close. Jameson shivers as he’s kissed, Anti’s mouthrunning feather-light across the stubble on his jawline.

“Getoff me,” Jameson begs, trying to push him away. “Please.”

“That’sbetter,” murmurs Anti. “Good job, puppy. Hold still and you cango in a minute.”

Hekisses his cheek, beneath his eye. His mouth is hot.

“Getoff me!” cries Jameson. Oh, fuck, suddenly he’s so dizzy. “Getoff, I hate you.”

Antipulls gently at his shirt, exposing his stomach. Jameson squirms,frightened, but with one hand Anti can hold him steady. The otherhand runs over his belly.

Thena knife, cold, cold, cold against his stomach.

Antisighs against the base of his ear.

Andthen he jams his thinnest blade like a key between the perfect slotof his seventh and eighth ribs.

Thenoise that Jameson makes –

Thenoise, a braying little gasp, a broken little screech from somewherein his lungs rather than his vocal chords, a choke combined with themovement that should make a scream, is not a noise that Anti realizedhuman beings could make.

Antiwishes he had recorded it. He could play that on a loop and destroycivilizations with the high it gives him.

He’slaughing so hard it hurts to breathe.

“Doktor!”he calls, shoving Jameson off his throat. The boy shudders againstthe floor, slamming his head against the cement as his body overtakeshis brain, far more conscious than he’d like to be. “You’re goingto have to bandage this up for us, darling.”

Notlong now. Not long.

“Please.”

“Shutup.”

“Please,please, H-E-N - ”

Doktorshoves him hard back against the porcelain sink to which he is onceagain chained. Jameson gags, weeping. “Brother,” he cries,undeterred. “Why won’t you save me?”

“God,please!” Henrik screams. “Stop, stop, I can’t take this!”

“Pleasehelp me, please help me, I’m scared, I’m scared, soon he will make mehis, I can’t take any more, please save me, I love you.”

Henrikscreams and tears at his hair, falling back. He’s been cleaningJameson up every night for a week. They are both reaching breakingpoints.

“Deutsch!”cries a voice from downstairs. Red, he thinks. “Blue can’tbreathe!”

“Sithim upright!” he calls back, trying to raise his voice above arasp. He tries to push himself back up to kneeling and a nail thatonce held floorboard pierces his palm, making him gasp.

“It’snot working!” Red cries. “It’s not enough!”

“Doyou think I’m hiding oxygen up here?” Doktor shrieks. “What doyou want me to do?”

Redis weeping. It’s a new sound for Doktor, but he doesn’t have time tocare. Blue and Trick are just getting sicker, and Carver’s going toget an infection if he doesn’t bandage him up, and he never feelswell anymore, and nothing is right, nothing is right, nothing is –

Jamesoncan only reach his brother’s out-stretched hands. Teary-eyed, whiteas smoke, he grips Doktor’s wrist gently and rubs his thumb up anddown the veins at the heel of his hand.

“Stop,”says Doktor.

Hedoesn’t draw away.

Jamesontugs his hand closer and presses his forehead to it, massaging hispalm, holding him tight.

“Stop,”says Doktor.

Jamesonshivers and clings to each one of his fingers, examining the valleysand ridges of his swirling fingerprints. Brushes against his veinsfrom heel to thumb. Squeezes tight, tight, tight.

Doktorcan’t remember the last time anyway touched him gently.

“Stop,”he begs. “I can take no more.”

“Henrik,”says Jameson, releasing his hand to finally, finally make the namewhole. “Henrik, brother, help me. Let’s go. There’s still time.”

Thestrings are slipping. The strings are slipping. The strings areslipping.

Butthey are still tight enough.

“I’msorry, Jameson,” whispers Henrik.

“No,no,” begs Jamie. He tries to grab his hand again, but Henrik isdrawing away. “I need you to remember who you are.”

“I’msorry,” whispers Doktor. “I am. I’m sorry. But I am also Anti’s.You don’t understand what he would do to us if we tried to escape.There is no running away. He will haunt us for the rest of our days.Better to stay, and be good for him. I am Anti’s.”

Jamesoncurls in on himself like a child, wrapping his arms around himselfand hugging himself tight. He rocks against the sink, sobbing.

He’slost. He’s lost. It’s over.

“Soonyou will be too,” promises Doktor softly. “And then…”

Heknows he should say that things will be better.

Buthe can’t lie.

Thisis a life of pain.

Twilightmakes the floorboards grey and lilac. The air smells of dust, ofblood, of starvation.

Doktorsits slumped over Blue, staring, corpse-like, down at him, bleedingsluggishly from the palm of his hand as he tends to his brothers’illnesses.

“They’regoing to die, aren’t they?” whispers Red.

Inhis weakness, Trick has regained his favor, and both he and Blue areclose at hand, tucked up in the only blanket in the house, shiveringside-by-side, asleep. Trickshot wheezes with every breath.

Doktorcan’t even answer. He washes sweat from their foreheads and massagestheir chests with vaporub. Nothing else to fucking do.

“Ican’t – ” Red breaks off, covering his mouth, squeezing his eyestightly shut. “I can’t watch them die.”

Doktorhums a brief affirmation, staring blankly at Trickshot’s hollowedgrey cheeks. It’s a little too late for Red to start caring.

“Deutsch,”whispers Red. He touches Doktor’s hand.

Henrikjumps hard, turning to him with astonished eyes. Red’s hand is gentleon his own. There are tears in his eyes.

“Whatdo I need to do to save them?”

AndHenrik recognizes, suddenly, a light that he had forgotten evergraced Jackie’s eyes.

Aprotection in his outstretched hands, a courage in his stiffenedmouth, a light in his bright blue eyes.

“Holyshit,” whispers Henrik.

Doubt.Doubt. Rebellion. It sits between them, curled in the heat of theirfevering brothers and the wounds that litter the boy upstairs likeconstellations, in the memories that sift, slow, patient, throughtheir awakening hearts.

“Sauerstoff,”he manages, swallowing hard.

“What?”

“Oxygen,”he rasps.

“Wheredo I get that?”

“Youwill have to steal it. Once you stole computer code from the centerof a secret Ministry of Defense facility just so Anti could eludethem. You will be able to take oxygen from a hospital. Masks too,blankets, and medicine – bring me paper, I will write it all down.”

Whiteand silent with stress, Jackie brings him the torn wrapper of theirlast jug of water, and Henrik scratches names into it, recalling,with the smell of hand sanitizer in his nose, what it was to be areal healer.

“Youmust go quickly,” he murmurs, pressing the wrapper into Jackie’shand.

“Iknow,” Jackie answers, soft. “If I’m not back before Antirealizes I’m gone…”

Hewill kill him. The words stand silent in the air between them.

Henrikcan almost remember his name.

Henrikcan almost, almost remember his name.

“Doktor,”murmurs Jackie.

“Red,”Henrik answers, exhausted.

Hiseyes say go carefully and Jackie’s answer very well, as youwish, we were brothers once and in the memory I have forgotten thehatred he fostered within me.

Jackiesqueezes his hand, kisses both Blue and Trickshot goodbye, and goes.

Heknows he will be killed for the transgression of abandonment.

Buthis pain might be salvation, and the word “hero” rises once againin his mind, like a tattoo uncovered, impossibly forgotten,permanent, chosen, lasting.

Upstairs,Jameson grows weaker.

Thereisn’t much time left.

Antiwakes up.

Thisis unusual for him, having never actually lost consciousness before.His waking thoughts consist largely of what the fuck, what thefuck, what the fuck?

Didhe pass out?

He’sslumped downstairs on his little throne – hardly more than ablood-painted chair, but he loves it like a knife – and he doesn’tremember falling asleep.

He’sweak as a ball of cotton.

Panicrises in him like fire and he tries to get up, without success,panting hard. For a moment his whole body becomes as static, heavyand faraway. His tongue is leaden and stinging in his mouth and hishead collapses back against the wood of his chair, leaving himmotionless and terrified, fainted in his own throne room.

He’snever passed out before, he’s never been weak, he’s never used somuch energy, he didn’t realize he had a breaking point and he needsto stop –

No!screams the rest of his brain. The dizzy spell recedes as a wave fromthe ocean and he staggers to his feet, snarling at the world aroundhim, which continues to defy him. I won’t be stopped now! I’m sovery close. So very close to the perfect victory. Their stupidpersistence can’t stop me. I will hold all five of them at once,puppets from my hands.

Hespares a burst of pure hatred for his creator, who gave him justenough brothers to be a challenge.

Butnot enough to stop him. He will be victorious.

“Doktor!”he screams, dragging himself to the bottom of his staircase. Deutschappears shaking in the light above him, his eyes flashing quicklybetween all corners of the house. Anti can almost taste hisdisloyalty, but it does not matter. He must break his last littlecolt, and then he will reign in all five of his stallions, if ittakes every whip in the world. “Bring my the little brat,” hehisses, sinking back into the darkness. “We end this tonight, onceand for all.”

“Where,”whispers Anti, “Is your resistance now?”

Jamesonlies shivering. Jameson lies shaking.

“Ihave shattered it,” Anti tells him. He reaches down, slow, and runshis knuckles across Jameson’s cheek, scarred and blood-stained.

“Youwere not the one who shattered it,” Jameson answers, closing hiseyes.

Thedemon stands above him like a shadow, pierced by thin beams of lightforcing their way through the tiny windows at the tops of thebasement walls. Blue and green eyes coat Jameson in a unique form oflust, a power-hungry possession, a wolf that has gained a taste forhuman flesh.

“Youlove your brothers very much,” murmurs Anti. “After all they havedone to you.”

Hesits down, criss-cross, at Jameson’s side. Pulls him into his lap.Takes his hands into his own.

“Bemine,” he says. “And they will love you again too.”

“Isthis what you call love?” Jameson manages.

Heis slumping down against Anti’s shoulder, exhausted.

“Youdon’t know the first thing about love.”

“Whata pity,” Anti giggles, grabbing his wrists and pulling him evencloser. “I must be missing so much.”

Blood,blood on Jameson’s face.

“Poordapper darling, pretending to be strong. Your heart is broken andyou’ve been dying for a long time, running from me every day, runningfrom your family. Aren’t you tired?”

Jamesonis hiding against his chest. Tears soak Anti’s shirt.

“Poorthing,” whispers Anti, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I know.It hurts. I know. Poor, poor dapper.”

Careful,he reaches power out. Feels Jameson’s heart, racing with terror, soweak and so vulnerable.

Hewraps a string and breathes through a wave of dizziness.

Jameson’shands tighten on his shirt.

“Thereyou go,” whispers Anti, rubbing from his shoulder to the small ofhis back. “There you go, it’s okay. Stop crying so hard, littleone. Hush, hush. Here I am. Don’t be afraid.”

“Anti,”signs Jameson. Anti does not know what he is begging for and he doesnot care. His sign name is a slit throat ‘A’ and it makes him laugh.“Anti, please.”

“Lookat me,” Anti orders, taking his chin in his hand. “Look at menow.”

Jamesontries to hide, his eyelids fluttering. No, no, no…

“You’reso tired.” Anti’s fingers are soft, warm, loving against his faceand throat and hands. “So, so tired, poor little puppy.”

Andhe is, so, so exhausted, so tired it could kill him. All he wants inthe whole goddamn world is to lose himself in sleep, in power, inAnti…

“Lookat me,” says Anti. He hates him, he craves him, he owns him. “Lookat me, Carver, Dapper, Monochroma. Look at me.”

Jameson’seyes open. Dapper’s eyes meet his own.

Hot,rushing, overwhelming, terrifying, ecstatic, adoring, all-consuming,all-consuming, all-consuming; Carver gasps and sinks down in Anti’shands, reaching up to be held, an agony of possession writhingthrough his body as he collapses like a bird dead in the air andlanguishes in the dark, endless eyes of his older brother.

Antihas him.

Carverblinks, and closes his eyes, and sinks.

Sinkslike a mink sinks in the mouth of an alligator.

Downonto Anti’s lap.

Andwhen his brother traces his hands across his scalp, stroking gentlehis downy brown hair, he breathes out a sigh of relief.

Antihas him.

Joycrackles as a current of electricity through his body and Antismiles, letting himself curl down around Chroma’s body, pulling hisnew little puppet to him, running his hands over his flesh, tastingthe sweet copper taste of an implanted adoration, touching hisfingers to each one of the cuts he has spent the last two weekscutting into Dapper’s skin –

Aword of alarm flickers through his system. Anti sits up, his eyesfixed on the opening to the room.

Thereare footsteps coming towards him.

Hetries to get up, but dizziness pounds through his simulated skull andhe collapses back onto his throne, gripping at Carver’s shirt. Heover-exerted. Used too much power. He’s never been so tired in hislife. He could fall asleep right here, slumped over his littlebrother’s body, holding his new puppet close… his eyes flicker andglitch and he sways, drifting…

“Ican bear this no longer.”

Anti’seyes snap open.

Inthe doorway, Henrik.

NotDoktor.

Henrik.

Antican’t feel his hold over him.

Hetries anyway. “Go back upstairs, Deutsch.”

Dappershivers in his lap. Anti grips a knife warily, staring at Henrik’stwilight silhouette.

“Ican bear this no longer,” whispers Henrik.

“Arzt,”hisses Anti, glaring him down. “Go back upstairs. Now.” Hestrains his energy on the last word, reaching out for Henrik again,wrapping strings around his throat –

“Shutyour fucking mouth,” hisses Henrik.

Andstranger still is the look in his eyes, because, for the first timein his life, Anti doesn’t understand the emotion that he’s looking atin another’s face.

“So,”he drawls, rubbing Dapper’s back, just to mock this rebellious littlepuppet standing before him. “My strings got too loose, huh?”

Henrikmoves forward. His hands tremble.

“Upstairs,two of my brothers are dying,” he says. “Red – no, Jackie –has suffered so much at your hands that for many long months he hasdesired only to be yours, so full of hatred we all bear his marks onour flesh. I myself have hurt for years now because of you. Havenightmared, have scarred over, have shattered like ice into crystal.And this boy you have given me to care for for the past week. Eachtime I saw his face, each time I held him, bleeding in my arms, Ihave regained a little of myself. That is not because of you. That isbecause of me. Your strings are looser, yes. But I am the one whotore them off. And that is because you know nothing. You think youknow what pain is, Anti?”

Hepulls from the pocket of his torn khaki pants a stained scalpel.

“Answerme,” he snarls.

Antiis glaring at him now, teeth bared and drizzling blood. His skin isgreen and his eyes are black. He is not human.

Buthe shares the mortal propensity to fear.

“Yes,”he hisses back, draping himself over Jameson’s body like a wolf witha fresh kill. “And I will teach it to you for months and months andmonths, little one.”

“No!”screams Henrik. “No, you don’t know the first goddamn thing! Notyet, Anti! Not yet!”

Antineeds to get up. He has to get up. He cannot glitch at all; his fleshis so still it is painful, but he must rise nonetheless, he muststand nonetheless, he can still get up, even in his weakened state,surely –

Theweight of Jameson’s sleeping body across his lap is too heavy for himto move. He cannot even put his hands on him. He is losingcorporeality. He can see through his palms. This has never happened.This has never happened. This has never –

Feartastes like copper, copper, copper, blood.

“Painis love turned against you,” groans Henrik. “Brothers made toenemies and left to bleed on the seat of a bus, left to choke todeath in abandoned houses, wearing belled collars and clutching atwounds that will never heal. You think you know what that is?”

“Henrik,get away from me,” hisses Anti. Electrical signals buzz distortedlythrough his brain, making the whole world too bright and tooconfusing. He coughs and blood comes welling up in his mouth.

“Youwill,” promises Henrik.

Hiseyes are consumed by darkness.

“Iwill teach you what it is. Because Anti, Anti, Anti! Pain is weaknessand then, later, strength. I have suffered until the madness came,and arisen from it powerful, powerful, powerful. Be afraid, Anti. Iwill teach you what is pain.”

Anti’scoughing pierces deeper and deeper as his body begins to glitchapart. The more he tries to blacken his eyes and consume Henrik’swill, the more power he loses, and the more he falls apart. He cannotstop coughing. He cannot breathe.

“Youare nothing!” he shrieks, nearly hysteric with mad fervor, with howgoddamn close he is to having everything he’s ever wanted! So manybodies strewn aside, so much corruption and patience, so much time,effort, planning, blood, torment! No, he will not lose now! He willtear this whole world apart if that is what it takes! “I will ripyou apart like tendrils of dog meat!”

ButHenrik is no longer afraid of him. He continues forward, staring intohis black eyes, free of him.

“Iwill turn you against yourself,” he promises. Here is a threat toterrify, and Anti cannot help but shove himself against the back ofhis throne, straining away. “Tear you down into all the things youpromised yourself you would never be. Kill you with your own blade.Oh, I’ve hated you for so long.”

“Oh,no, Doktor,” giggles Anti. At least there is some humor to be foundin that. “No, no, no, you’ve loved me, adored me, prayed in my namefor months now. Even before I used power to make you mine completely,you would beg for a scrap of bread as you starved, for a touch ofcomfort as the pain killed you, for someone to kiss you and wipe upthe tears – ”

Henrikswings with the scalpel.

Anti’sbody finds the strength somewhere to glitch and he goes crashing tothe cement, scrambling away from Henrik, hatred and blood wellingfrom his mouth. He can’t stop coughing. It hurts. “Red!” hescreams. “Red, Blue, come here now!”

“Theytoo have abandoned you,” hisses Henrik. “Their brotherhoodovercomes your own.”

“Impossible,”Anti shrieks. “Impossible.”

“Youare alone,” says Henrik. “As you were always meant to be. I toldJameson you were inescapable, do you know that? Strange. Just daysago, you seemed deathless. But I have been watching your collapse.You have made yourself mortal. Maybe you will haunt us, after all, aghost, a memory. But you will never lay a hand on my family again.”

Anticoughs until he is sprawled against the earth, writhing in blood, inchunks of his own lungs, in hatred. He tries one last time to stopHenrik, and even makes him stagger back, confused, torn – but thislapse in control is enough to make the boy on the throne jerk back toreality, staggering to his feet and coming to stand at Henrik’s side,grabbing his hand and assuring him, comforting him, standing withhim.

Together,they are stronger than he is.

Forall that they have suffered, Jameson and Henrik are stronger thanAnti, stronger than hatred, stronger than blood.

Henrikraises the scalpel, and teaches his tormentor pain.

Teacheshis tormentor weakness.

Jackiereturns with medicine and food and masks and oxygen, filled with herocourage, hero strength, brother love. Marvin and Chase breathe. Antidoes not.

Henrikand Jameson cling to each other.

Nomore running. No more fighting. No more abuse. Just family. Gone isthe darkness. Here is the light, their stars, their brothers, alive.

Andfrom then on, when pain comes and they are haunted, well, the five ofthem face it together, as they did once before, and some day, oneday, soon, health and joy will come like sunlight in the morning,warm as the ashes of a fire proud and bright.

“Yousaved me,” says Jameson, warm against Henrik’s shoulder, trustingagainst his chest. “You saved me.”

“No,” says Henrik. “You, little brother, are the salvation Ihave longed for.”

[buckythegothavenger]

Stuck With You (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary:You and Bucky Barnes get sent to work in a remote cabin for 3 days in Alaska, but an unexpected snow storm extends the trip an extra few days. The problem being? You two cant stand each other.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 6.5k  

Warnings: Language, Angst, Smut,(18+) rough sex? Unprotected Sex (Wrap those willies) Such a cliche

A/N: Its winter time which means its time to write the cliche fics where they get stuck in a cabin together. Not gunna lie, this took me over 10 hours to write and edit so i hope you like it! Replies are always welcome and just let me know if you want to be tagged in my work!

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"Steve why the hell do i have to go with her? Cant you come instead, even Nat would be better than her"

"Because buck, you two have the same training, Fury thought it would be a good idea. Plus me and Nat already have a mission of our own, its only for 3 days you'll live"

"She hates the cold she's just going to bitch the whole time that shes cold and were going to be in Alaska in the middle of fucking December"

"hey if you're that mad about it then take it up with Fury"

Sighing Bucky picked up his bags and sulked out the door towards the Quin-jet that was waiting for the two of you.

Trying to pack all of your sweaters,sweats, blankets and stealth gear into your small bags proved to be nearly impossible. Sighing you sat on you bed looking over at Natasha who was raiding you fridge. "You know that you have absolutely nothing to eat right" She said closing the fridge, walking over to rummage through your cabinets. "Well seeing as i'm going to be spending the next three days locked away in a cabin, i didn't think i needed to go grocery shopping"

"Haha finally" she exclaimed finding a box of of Oreos

"You couldn't have just went to your own room? its like two doors down"

"I'm already here whats the point, plus i know your not going to eat these, youre like a health nut now" she said walking over to lay on your bed opening up the cookies in the process

"hey naaat" you say turning to her "Can you pleeease trade places with me, i mean you actually like Barnes and you know i hate the cold"

Laughing she replied "I never said i liked him y/n i just put up with him"

"Yeah but at least he doesnt act completely disgusted when you enter the room"

You quickly became friends with everyone shortly after joining the avengers, coming from the same background as Natasha, Bucky and Wanda you thought you would get along with them the best, all bonding over your hatred for hydra. But you couldn't have been more wrong about Barnes, the first couple weeks he was fine with you, nice actually. He showed you around the Avengers compound, helped set up your bedroom and even showed you some TV that you hadn't seen. One day he just snapped and stopped saying hi when you saw each other, he would always have a snarky comeback to everything you said then he quit coming to movie night. No one really knew why not even Steve, everyone just kept their theories to themselves only one of them unknowingly knew exactly why.

"Its not up to me, you know Fury deals will all the missions and the teams so if you really want to swi-"

"No no its fine, i can deal with him, its only three days" you said cutting her off. You knew that talking to Fury wasn't going to change anything plus you didn't want to seem like some immature crybaby

______________________________________________________________

Walking off the Quinjet you were immediately hit with a gust of bone chilling wind, shivering you pulled your jacket tighter around your body. This was going to be the worst mission ever. Laughing Bucky walked passed you into the snow"Stop being a little baby, its not even that cold"

Looking over at Steve with pleading eyes begging him to take you place

"Those puppy eyes don't work on me sweetheart, you know that"

"it was worth a shot" you sighed feeling defeated, continuing your walk to the cabin.

It was small but cute, as cute as a log cabin in the middle of the woods in Alaska with 2 feet of snow on the ground could be. It had simple wood floors, a small kitchen to the left along with two bedrooms down a hall, to your right was a large stone fireplace, a brown couch and recliner. Natasha helped you bring your bags to your room as Steve did the same with Bucky. You unpacked you clothes while Nat helped with your computer and weapons, "You know maybe this will be good for the both of you, you can finally sort out your problems"

"Nat i don't even know what his problem is, i never did anything to make him hate me"

"Then talk to him y/n there's no better time to do it"

"I can think of a million different times i could talk to him and this isn't one of those times"

You had only been at this place for an hour and you already had a headache, waving goodbye to Steve and Natasha as they got back onto the quinjet off to start their own 3 day mission. Walking back into the warmth of the cabin you thought that maybe Barnes was going to be nice to you for once since this is actually a mission and not a walk in the park. You both set up your equipment on the coffee table, wanting to start asap so you both could get out of here. The mission was simple, hack into a near by hydra bases security cameras and watch for a specific individual, a new enhanced human. Once that person is spotted you both need to go in and take out that problem.

The later it got, the colder it got and by now you were freezing the only heat coming from the fire place you were sitting directly in front of, for someone that controls and makes fire you were always cold

"Why don't you just do us both a favor and jump right on it huh y/n it'll warm you right up" Buck said coming around the corner wearing only sweatpants and a tank top, how the hell was he not freezing his ass off.

"Sure Barnes, right after you go ahead and jump right into that lake out back" giving him a sweet smile

"Hey come look at this" Bucky called sitting in front of his computer. Reluctantly you got up from your spot by the fire and went to look over his shoulder at the computer screen.

"Is that him?"

"I don't know maybe go ahead at look at the file right in front of you" Bucky snapped at you,

Ignoring his comments you picked up the file and looked through it, noticing a tattoo on the mans arm in the picture and telling Buck to look for it on the screen

"Yeah that definitely him, lets go and get this over with" Bucky said standing up from his seat

"What no its freezing cold out there and its pitch black, we haven't even seen this place during the day what makes you think we'll be able to see it in the dark?"

"Did you seem to forget what our fucking job is y/n, if you're going to be a wuss about it ill do it myself" he said pushing past you walking to his room to change

He was right and you knew it, it was your job to get this guy the second you saw him but you were at a disadvantage to begin with. You didn't know your way around the base and to add to that it was pitch black out. Maybe if you convinced Bucky to wait until tomorrow morning you wouldn't be as reluctant to go.

Bucky came walking out of his room now in combat gear, a gun in hand, before he could make it out the door you grabbed his arm stopping him, making him turn around to look at you "Buck just wait until tomorrow don't throw on your tough guy act just cause you want to get out of here, I want to leave too but its not worth going in blind and risking the whole mission" Now you had a good point. "Fine, we leave here first thing in the morning, get this guy then call Tony to come get us" Realizing you still had a grip on his arm you let go, and with that he walked back to his room not be seen again until morning. You walked over and started putting out the fire, if you were going to be up early it was best to get some sleep while you still had time. Laying in bed wrapped up in an assortment of warm blankets you were texting Wanda asking her how her vacation with vision was going until you fell asleep. You woke up in the middle of the night to what sounded like grunts or whispers coming from buckys room, he's probably just having one of his nightmares again you thought, paying no attention to it and drifting back to sleep

______________________________________________________________

Waking up on the floor wrapped up in several blankets was not the best way to start your day but at least you got some sleep. Getting up you took your blanket with you into the living room, expecting to see Bucky with his gear in hand ready to yell at you for being late. Instead you found him yelling into the phone he was holding, frustrated he threw it against the wall causing it to brake into pieces. "Who the fuck shit in your cereal the smorning barnes" you teased, whipping around he looked at you dead in the eyes "You"

"what did i do i just wo-" he cut you off as he walked over to you and grabbed your arm pulling you over to the window and pushed the shades open. It was then that you saw absolutely nothing, nothing but the snow covering the window. A huge snow storm must've hit overnight and now you were trapped in hell with Bucky.

"How the fuck is this my fault" you said shaking out of his grasp

"In every fucking way" he screamed "if we just left to take care of our mission last night, we wouldn't be stuck here"

"That wouldn't have changed anything, It still would've snowed and we still would be stuck"

"At least Fury would know that the job was done, he would had a quinjet fly out for us. Just in case your small brain isn't catching onto what i'm saying ill simplify, We have no cell reception,no internet, nothing but walkies will work"

"Well i'm fucking sorry i didn't want either of us getting hurt"

"Like hell you cared about me getting hurt, you just didn't feel like going out in the cold,I can't believe that, out of all the people I was unfortunate to get stuck in a log cabin with, it had to be you." He spat at you

"It's the universe telling you that you made the asshole list and that you're a bastard who deserves coal. I just don't know why I'm being punished too." It sounded dumber out loud than it did in your head. "Whatever buck, i'm sorry i spoiled you special little day" You walked off back into your room, to give the super soldier some time to cool off. You stayed in there most of the day until you remembered you had brought a couple of movies with you, just something to occupy your mind. You got up and grabbed your laptop and a copy of Donnie Darko, it was a gift from Nat for your birthday, she knew how much you loved that crazy movie. You decided to go out and check in on Bucky and see if he was up for a movie, you had your arguments but you didn't hate the guy, you used to actually find him pretty cute back when you first joined.

"Hey uh do you wanna watch a movie? I forgot i brought some movies with me" He was sitting curled up on the recliner, if you didn't know any better you would've thought he was upset at something other than the mission.

Looking up at you he replied "Depends is it one of those dumb rom coms girls are so into"

"Actually no smart ass, its like a horror, drama fantasy thing its one of my favorites"

"Fine set it up on the table"

You both went and sat down on the couch, you grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over yourself.

"Wow way to hog all of the blankets"

"Oh i'm sorry, i thought Mr. Winter Soldier doesn't get cold?' you mocked as you gave him the blanket and went to grab your own from your room. You looked back real quick to check if he was actually watching the movie, you must've stood up to fast and weren't seeing clearly because you swore you saw Barnes laugh. You were totally seeing things the only person to put a smile on that mans face was Rogers, or whenever he mocked you. Grabbing a bag of chips from the kitchen you went and sat back down on the couch.

"So was it a dream the whole damn time or"

"I honestly don't know, I've watched it a million times and i think its like some worm hole space thing"

"You begged me to watch a movie when you dont even understand the ending" He was so upset and confused

"Hey i never begged you, I only asked once. Admit it you liked it" You teased nudging him in the ribs

You both sat there and talked about the movie for what seemed liked hours, not realizing how close you two were now seated. You got on the topic of the TV shows you both used to watch months ago when you were friends. After not talking to him for so long and now the both of you being wrapped up in this movie made you start to realize how much you really missed him. He was one of the first friends you made and it broke your heart when he started to be mean.

"Buck i think im gunna go to bed, i got no sleep last night" you said yawning

"alright, ill see u in the morning"

Grabbing your blanket you started to get up "Arnt you exhausted? i thought i heard you last night having one of those nightmares"

He didn't get nightmares as frequently as he used to but they still happened, but he usually remembers them. They started to get better when you joined the Avengers, but he never told anyone that, and he refused to believe it himself.

"ya i guess i am, i hate those dreams" He didn't have any sort of nightmare last night, but you didn't need to know that, or the details of what he was actually doing.

"If u wanna talk about it im here, i know we didn't go through exactly the same stuff but i wanna help you if i can" You really did want to help Bucky, whatever he was going through, you knew how hard it was dealing with the trauma inflicted by hydra.

"Thanks y/n/n" He said walking behind you going to his room

You both got to your rooms and before you could close your door you heard Bucky whisper a faint "goodnight" under his breath.

Bucky sat in on the edge of his bed trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened today. He was happy to be talking to you again and not have every other sentence out of his mouth be a sarcastic jab at you. He hated to admit his feelings, they scared him to death, he was so used to feeling like some monster with no emotions. But you made him feel alive again, you made him feel human and you helped get rid of his nightmares without even knowing it. He was mad at himself still, he's been hurting you all these months just because he didn't want to admit his feelings.

Laying in bed you tried to get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one you always seem to get when your falling for someone. You couldn't be falling for barnes, not again, he didn't even like you right? This was just an act he put on because you were stuck in this cabin together. At least that's what you told yourself. You did like barnes, more than you care to admit but it was just a silly crush it would go away once you got out of this place.

______________________________________________________________

Its now been 4 going on 5 since you've been stuck in this cabin, thankfully the snow finally stopped and it started to melt, at least you could now get your front door open. You both decided that today was the day you were going to find that hydra base and finish your mission, only 2 days behind schedule. Putting on your combat gear you grabbed your walkie, guns and a protein bar before walking out your bedroom door, Bucky already dressed waiting for you in the kitchen.

"He still in the same part of the building?" you asked walking over to check the computer once more

"Yeah same place, same amount of agents" he answered walking towards you peering over your shoulder at the screen telling you once more his tactical plan, His hot breath on your neck making you shiver. You tried to ignore all the thoughts running through your head and pushed them towards the back of your head. You needed to focus on this mission or else one of you was going to get hurt.

______________________________________________________________

"YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN YOUR SELF KILLED, AGAIN Y/N"

"I THINK I'M AWARE OF WHO AND WHAT I CAN HANDLE BUCK, IVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR YEARS" you screamed back annoyed that once again you were being yelled at for doing your job.

While Bucky was in one part of the base looking for the enhanced, you found a secret room with 5 of hydras agents standing inside. You know you could handle them on your own, you've dealt with far worse. Little did you know one of the agents had the same ability as The Winter Soldier, needless to say if it wasn't for buck coming in to save your ass you probably wouldn't be standing here having this argument with him.

Trying to calm yourself down you spoke softer "I didn't know one of them was enhanced, if i did i would've waited for you, but you were preoccupied and i thought i could handle it. I also didn't realize my powers wouldn't have an effect on him"

"This is why i hate working missions with you, you always jump the gun without thinking and i have to swoop in and save your ass" he wasn't yelling anymore but his tone was still harsh, he walked away from you going to his room

"Buck im sorry ok, i haven't been on a mission in a while and i got excited" you spoke not knowing if he could even hear you anymore. Sighing you walked into your room shutting the door and changing out of your clothes. Seeing as you only packed enough clothes for three maybe four days, you had to use the close left by the last person who stayed, by the looks of it, it was Nat. You couldn't understand why Bucky was so mad at you, you completed the mission and now you could both go home. Grabbing some of Nats clothes you decided to take a shower and get all of the sweat and dried blood off of you.

"Steve i don't know what to do, she could've gotten herself killed today"

Stepping out of the bathroom you could here Bucky talking on the phone, you knew you probably shouldn't be listening to him but whats the harm.

"I'm not in love with her shut up, i mean i might be but-" Steve must've cut him off

"You think?" "but how do i tell her i mean, why would she even like me, i'm a monster Steve"

You got so into the conversation and didnt realize you were holding onto the doorknob so when you leaned forward trying to hear better you ended up slamming the door shut causing Bucky to jump and look over at you. "uh Steve ill call you later" he hung up the phone throwing it on his bed.

"uh just wanted to let you know the showers open, there's still hot water"

Grabbing his clothes he pushed by ducking his head and whispered a quick "thanks" before walking into the bathroom.

You stood in the same place for what felt like hours before opening the door to your room. Closing the door behind you, leaning against it trying to comprehend what just happened. Did Bucky really just say he was in love with you, well he said it to Steve. That same feeling in the pit of your stomach came back, you groaned sliding down the door. Did this mean Bucky felt the same way about you that you did about him, or was this some kind of sick joke he was playing on you. If this was some sick prank, you decided you were going to have some fun, and if it wasn't oh well. You still refused to admit your feelings. You went along with your plan because why the hell not. Looking through the dresser you tried to find the something that was sexy but not too obviously sexy. You settled for a over sized red sweater that went down just below your butt, you put on a pair of black knee high socks and black lace panties.

You sat on the couch on your  computer trying to find a movie when Bucky exited the bathroom and went back into his room. Time for your little plan to start, you got up and walked over to Bucks room, leaning against the doorway "wanna come watch a movie, its our last day here and i thought we could end on a good note"

He looked you up and down, damp hair sticking to his face "yeah, if u wanna"

"Yay!"You squealed running over to grab his hand and drag him out to the living room. It felt like electricity ran straight trough his body the second you grabbed his hand he never wanted you to let go, but as soon as you got to the couch that's exactly what you did. After making Bucky sit down and promise to watch you started the movie, "Oh don't tell me this is a movie about different shades of grey" you laughed fully knowing what this movie actually was, pulling your legs up on the couch you put them over his lap. You've never seen someone act so flustered over a simple gesture. Boy was this going to be fun.

You could pinpoint the exact moment when buck figured out what this movie actually was, his whole demeanor changed and you could practically see his heart beating out of his chest. You had kept moving your legs around in his lap which made him hold your legs down on his lap to make you stop, pleading for you to stop. You were definitely getting messing with his poor brain.

Bucky could feel your eyes burning into his skull for what felt like hours, he had figured out by now that you were playing a little game with him, and this movie had given him all sorts of ideas for future reference. He decided to play along with you, without moving his eyes from the screen he moved his hands further up your legs, no longer resting on the fabric of your knee highs. You tried to hide as your breath hitched in your throat as his hands made their way under your sweater and rested on your thighs. Their was no way in hell that he was going to win the game that you started. You moved your legs back closer to you, crossing them, making sure they dragged along his lap and over his now obvious bulge. You weren't seated like that for more than 30 seconds before he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, grabbing your ass causing a small moan to escape from your lips.

Bucky had the biggest smirk on his face, fully knowing what hes doing to you. Straddling him you sunk your hips down, grinding against him slow, earning a deep growl from his throat. He grabbed onto your hips and guided your core along him, you grabbed onto his hair and tugged on it this time earning a soft moan. For the first time since standing in his door way, you looked each other in the eye, his once blue eyes were now dark and full of need. Within seconds Bucky had pinned you underneath him, snaking your legs around his waist you tangled your hands around his neck and in his hair. One of his hands still digging into your hip, the other one tangled in your hair as he pressed rough kisses along your jaw line, down your neck earning light moans as he sucked on the sensitive skin near your collarbone. Coming back up from your neck he finally placed a rough kiss on your lips, sliding his tough along the bottom of your lip begging for entrance, you smiled into the kiss granting him the access he needed, teeth clashing together as your tongues danced in your mouth . He pulled away from you and ripped his shirt off his body, throwing it to the side. Helping you with your sweater, smirking as he found out all you had on under was a pair of black lace panties. and those knee highs. "You're so perfect" He moaned coming back down to kiss you again.

You wrapped your legs back around his waist as he picked you up and carried you to his room. Bucky laid you down on the bed and looked at you like it was the first time he ever saw a womens body. Starting to feel self conscious you moved your arms to cover your bare chest, before you could he stopped you "Stop it. you're so fucking beautiful y/n". Hovering over you he leaned down until his face was inches from yours kissing you softy, putting a hand on his cheek you looked up at him, seeing those blue eyes of his on you like that made you melt.

He kissed you again this time more roughly moving down towards your neck sucking on the soft skin leaving light bruises. Trailing kisses further down over your breasts and stomach before making it to your core, he moved to the inside of your thighs teasing you, rubbing them gently with his rough hands, his metal one cooling you down instantly. He looked up at you with his hands on your thighs, you gave him a nod wanting nothing more than for him to continue. He took his metal hand and rubbed it over your clothed core, causing a small gasp to escape your mouth from the cold touch. He loved the effect he had on you, the metal arm was an obvious turn on he used to his advantage. He teased you through your panties with his metal fingers earning a different sound from you each time he moved them a different way.

"B-bucky please" you whimpered earning a smirk from him, you arched your back allowing him to remove your now soaked panties "I wonder if your always this wet when i'm around" he grinned at you throwing them across the room. He leaned over you looked you in the eyes again planting another harsh kiss on your lips, before moving back down to get to work. His tongue working like magic, having you come undone at the seams the second he touched you. Sucking on you clit he added a single metal finger causing you to buck your hips  towards him"So fucking eager kitten" his words only making you wetter and more desperate by the second. Without warning he added two more fingers, curling them so they would hit that sweet spot, pumping them at the perfect speed."f-fuck b-bucky" you hadn't been with anyone for a long time and he was completely destroying you.

He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders giving him more access to what he want and what you need, your heels digging into his back trying desperately not to close your legs at the sensations. "I'm close, buck p-please" your a whimpering mess under his touch and he knows it ,so close to the edge, seconds away and he stops. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Dont worry kitten i'm not done with you yet" You hadn't realized he removed his sweats and boxers, looking at him now holy fuck he was gorgeous, he was definitely blessed in every department. With your legs hooked around his waist, he started teasing you again with his metal hand and sucking on your neck "Buck please, stop teasing"

he chuckled teasing your entrance "tell me what you want doll"

"Bucky just fuck me" growing impatient you try to buck your hips up to him

Holding your hips down with his flesh hand "That's not how you ask nicely, doll"

"James, please fuck me"

He slammed into you unexpectedly causing you to practically scream his name. He never knew that you saying his real name in the manner you did would have such an effect on him but oh it did. Gripping your hips roughly, he slammed into you at fast pace "Fuck, You're so tight" Your hands trailed down his back and grabbed onto his ass pushing him deeper inside of you earning the loudest growl you've heard out of him.

You gained control of him now straddling him, sliding down on his cock at a painfully slow pace. He held your hips, guiding you against him, moving so your clit rubbed up against him, giving you much needed friction.Taking his metal hand he played with one of your nipples pinching in, taking the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue around. The room was filled with your soft whimpers and his rough grunts.

He flipped you back over, spreading your legs even further apart, pushing deeper into you at a more desperate pace. You could feel his thrusts starting to become sloppy, you hooked your legs around his shoulders letting him fuck you even deeper "Fuck, y/n" You dug your nails deep into his back, definitely leaving marks. Near pornographic moans left your mouth as bucky continued his hard thrusts, he put his flesh hand around your neck as his metal one reached down to rub your clit.

"God Bucky i'm close" He tightened his grip around your throat, all that could escape your mouth was whimpers. "Cum for me" his breath hot against your ear, sending you over the edge, closing your eyes your nails and heels dug into Buckys back, feeling it hit you like shock waves you at full force. Bucky nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, all you could ear were the deep moans escaping his mouth. You felt Bucky pulse and release in side of you, thrusting your hips upwards once more earning a staggered breath in response.

He fell against you not minding the weight, as you both tried to catch your breath. Bucky rolled off of you and went to get to get a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you both up, you were definitely going to be sore in the morning, he came back and cleaned himself off of you. Throwing the towel in a basket he crawled into bed with you and under the covers, you turned to lay on your side and looked up at him "Was this like a one time thing or" You hated to admit it but you were falling in love with him, if this really was a one stand it would break your heart.

He looked down at you wrapping his arm around you pulling you close, "If you want it to be then it can be, but i was hoping it was more" You could feel his heart jumping out of his chest, you knew he was scared to show his feelings but the way he looked at right then, you truly knew that he did love you. Leaning down he pressed a passionate kiss on your lips, both of you smiling in the middle of it. It didn't take the two of you long to fall asleep, for the first time in a while, you didn't need any extra blankets, all you needed was him. Maybe Nat was right, maybe this mission was a good thing.

You woke up the next morning with a pain between you legs, Bucky was by far the largest guy that you've slept with and it was showing. Groaning you rolled over wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around you and pull you in close, but all you found was messy sheets and a cold bed. Rolling out of bed you threw on his black shirt from last night, the fabric falling like a dress coming down just below your butt. You went looking for a hair tie in the bed side table when you found something far more interesting, it looked like one of Steves sketchbooks but smaller than the ones he normally carried around, Picking it up you flipped through the pages. What you saw made your heart flutter, it wasn't Steves drawing pad it was Buckys and damn was he good. His drawing style is the same as steves, he must've taught him how to draw. But that wasn't what made your heart flutter, the cause of that was almost all of the drawings were of you always at a distace, one of them even brought you back to the day. It was one of you sitting outside by the pool at the compound, even Sam and Steve were drawn in. You flipped to the newest page and found an uncompleted drawing, it didn't click at first but the more you looked at it the more you realized that it was of you asleep in his bed, a little blurb was written in the corner

I never thought this day would come where you would be sleeping naked in bed next to me

I think im in love with you.

You couldn't help a little giggle that escaped your lips, this guy who always acted so tough and rough is actually just some big teddy bear. You set the pad back into the drawer and decided to wander out into the kitchen to see if there was anything left to eat, knowing full well that you left one of your favorite protein bars in a cabinet. You were exhausted and didn't even bother picking your head up as you said good morning to buck, You stood on your tippy toes, causing your shirt to ride up a little too high, Hearing Bucky clear his throat behind you only made you chuckle. Turning around ready to tease the poor man again"What ready for roun-" you froze in place, every word in your mind turned to mush. It wasn't Bucky that cleared his throat, it was actually Tony Stark sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face, standing next to him was none other than Natasha and Steve. Steve giving Bucky one of those looks, and Nat looked at you with the biggest smirk on her face.

"So um Bucky, tell me again about those marks on your neck, What'd you say they were from? " Clearly Tony was about to have way to much fun.

"Well Steve it looks like our evil plan worked" Natasha said nudging him in the side with her elbow

"what?" You and buck said in unison, you still hadn't moved a muscle, buck was now at your side draping a blanket over your shoulders

Natasha continued "You see, me and ole Steve had a small bet going, Sam and Clint were in on it too. I bet that if we sent you away on some remote mission together, forcing you to talk, you two would finally hook up, or at least resolve whatever was going on. It looks like Steve and Clint owe me and Sam some money"

"I had no part of this" Tony piped in hands up in the air defensively, "But goddamn was this a good surprise" he walked towards the door letting himself out, going back to the quinjet.

Laughing you asked "How much money did you all bet?"

" 200 dollars" Steve sighed, putting his hand to his temple in defeat

Bucky started chuckling "Oh my god, you guys are ridiculous"

______________________________________________________________

The whole ride home Nat pestered you with questions, Who started it? Was it good, Was it a one time thing? and a million others, at this point you toned her out and were watching Bucky talk to Steve. That man had smiled more in the past couple days than he had the entire time you knew him, thinking like that just made your heart race, you knew you were the cause of his happiness.

After a few hours you arrived back home at the compound all you wanted was a good night sleep in your own bed maybe not alone this time. You and Buck carried your bags down the hallway, sharing occasional glances and smirks, you could feel it in your heart that this was meant to be.

You sat in the living room talking to Wanda and Vision, as they had just comeback from their vacation the same day as you. You played with the ball of fire in your hands, almost throwing it in the air when you heard Sam scream down the hall "HA YES I KNEW IT, I KNEW YOU TWO WOULD BANG,I KNEW BEFORE ANYONE,I CALLED IT wheres Barton and Rogers they owe me some money" Well it looks like Sam found out that he won the bet.  Before you could explain anything, Wanda and Vision told you that they knew about it too, everyone did but no one else participated in the bet.

Bucky came around the corner and squeezed himself onto the couch cushion beside you, he pulled your legs up to rest over his lap and put his arm around you. Still playing with the fire ball in your hands, you threw it into the fire place in front of you, instantly warming up the room. You sat there watching everyone around you laughing, drinking having fun, no ones fighting, theirs no dumb bickering between you and Bucky now theirs only mocking each other before stealing a kiss.  You realized that maybe this is how its supposed to be, everyone happy and together You with Bucky Barnes. You and the Winter Soldier. The Phoenix and The Winter Soldier, maybe opposites really do attract

[alchemisland]

The Antiquarian and the Devil's Dog

April 1928.

I, Martin Bryn-Kolkiln, wish to commit to paper the strange events of Friday last, April 9th 1928. For what seems an age I have been chasing time, little tempting pockets of freedom peppered throughout the week, but the crafty seconds evaded capture. My rest too, like the proverbial snoozing hound, has been disturbed to much chagrin, prolonging the day's drudgery.

I had been away for several weeks prior to the incident, pining for home on the sun-cursed dig sites of the Nile delta. Aerial raids destabilized the region, yielding formerly guarded treasures to the gloved hands of fevered antiquarians, creating a scramble the likes of which beaurocrats had not seen since the African pile-on. At one such site, in the frame of a ruined mosque we found an idol, stark and malignant in its shadow-haunted grotto, providing ample fuel for speculation among my uneducated workforce.

My postprandial scribblings, so long a staple of my working week that no servant dares scurry past my quarters upon seeing the glow neath the door signalling occupancy, go neglected of late, my notepad chastely going without flourish.

I have been much beset by idleness, my usual studious nature replaced by bouts of extended procrastination. I do not fear that you will judge too harshly my slovenliness once I recount my adventure in full.

The journey from London towards Matfield is punctuated with occasional wondrous natural vignettes. A journey I had taken many times before, I spurned heirs for comfort and slid far down on my seat, staring out the window. Wild horses cresting grassy knolls against the backdrop of God's own country.

I had informed colleagues of convalescent intentions, two weeks bedridden to document my trip, so it came as a reluctant surprise when a letter arrived requesting my urgent presence at the Powers Estate. It spoke of a strange discovery as work began on a proposed pleasure garden "to rival Xanadu". The author supposed the discovery would be pertinent to my historical interest, and suddenly I was keen to reevaluate my proposed hermitic fortnight.

I set off that same evening with only a light jacket tossed overshoulder. The note's concluding statement disturbed me most. The scribe, generously an amateur, was firm that they had uninterred the skeleton of an enormous hellhound.

I cycled to match Nike's record laps and barely caught the evening train. Upon alighting, a short preamble along a pleasant pebbled path paired with pastures carried me to the estate, its foreboding walls stark and unmissable against the sweeping hillocks. Overhead, through a bore in the wounded firmament, a lance of otherworldly pearlescence triumphed.

The moon in its wane sat stop the rounded domes of the main compound like a crown's centrepiece, its design an eclectic mix of Eastern and Western classical art, rounded arches twinned with dappled pillars, obsidian grotesques with forked tongues freed of their pursed half mouths. Inside, French tapestries decorated the walls, Greek marbles on every landing, enormous canvas features depicting glorious hunts in gilded frames tacked lavishly on every capable surface. Looted Pictish stones inscribed with mysterious runes decorated the fish pond. This was wealth. Old money.

Casement Power, younger brother of late Lord Richard, inherited no property, instead reviving a modest annual wage to fund his excess. The scurrying fox and the baited badger that presumably made up his cost of arms could not satiate his warrior spirit, so he traveled to Africa where the large game roamed.

It crossed my mind while tracing its mighty girdle that perhaps a secret exotic pet had been disinterred, cyclopean only to an amateur.

I found myself frozen at the gates. Some fuedal conditioning told me my sort still weren't welcome here, and I stood hypnotised by its granduer A fortress fit for a martial family.

A buried phalanx of ghoulish hoplites raised their jagged spears to form the gate rails, fearsome black rods as a ward to the timid, a black bas relief in its centre. Pushed its hinges dragged and howled in dull flight, which I took as a sign of reluctance on the house's part.

Once inside I turned right, veering from the cedar-lined drive down a snaking path of trodden grass towards a distant glow. With my forearm raised to tide the eye-hungry branches, I came to stand in a copse offering a clear vantage of the fiddler's kirkyard, where four beacons crudely jammed into the soil guttered, illuminating a profession of loiterers. One waved my shade closer, evidently the letter's author.

The grass grew sicklier in the albumen of my redoubt, tusks of jagged rock bursting through the topsoil. Little wonder this field alone was designated the plebeian pit, it must have been the only infertile patch inside this splendid garden of bulbed delights.

A terrible scream rang out as I took my first ginger step forward. It crowed shrilly, razorlike against the eardrum. Wretched as banshee's wail. Mighty as the seven trumpets sounding to toll the seventh seal's opening. The Djinn's howl. When the screaming stopped, an orb of light rose and hovered about the hungry mouth of an open grave. Unaccustomed to the light, its radiance blinded me, and when finally those briny trickles tamed enough to pry them back open, I found myself back in the copse where I had stood a moment before, the kirkyard beacons up ahead.

I stared to my hands, unable to discern their shape in the darkness. I needed to be positive I wasn't dreaming. It was bitterly cold. Does one feel true cold in the nightland? I surmised then I was not sleeping and in fact alertly experiencing high strangeness. Sudden nausea stole my legs and I keeled over retching.

Prone on the lawn I watched the distant beacons ignite and extinguish in sequence, casting strange shadows, then in unison they doused. Plunged into void, I felt the grass against my cheek mutate into something harder, with many sharp points. I lifted one eyelid and saw the gates. I was outside the compound, as if I had never before entered!

The bas relief's dark contours adopted an ominous aspect, moreso than previous observations yielded. Their bulbous forms tricked me with feigned normalcy. Brushing the stones set in my palm like jewels, I winced to my feet.

One idle lance shone directly on its centre. Beings that at first seemed grecian effigies altered in the pale moontorch. The icons, lacking perspective, still bulged with taut muscle. Lacking the vocabulary to describe the 'otherness' of its shape, Revelations must serve as an imaginative stimulus. The beings were contorted demons with men's bodies and genitals, coated head to toe with coarse black hair.

Where their mouths should have been jutted jaws like that of the snapping Nile crocodiles. One figure above all I was hypnotically drawn to carried by his shoulder a noxious stinger slick with venom poised to strike. Alone was he armed with a pestilent whip, distinguishing him as a leader of sorts, if rank existed within an anarchy of grotesques.

Even as fantasy, this folly was gratuitous, a remnant of the freakshow. The metal itself gleamed as if slick, though no hint of varnish my nostrils scented.

I pushed open the gate as a matter of promptness, again it screeched, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeee - like a vixens wail. Events were unfolding like theatre beats, precisely as they had moments ago, only now where I was sure I had steered right, the dig site was to my left.

I thought voicing the skeptic aloud to might steady frayed nerves. Marsh gases were spirits to feudal farmers before wise men dispelled their ignorance, replicating in micrcosm the binding of the primal flame which elevated our kin above the fierce descendants of Echidna. Perhaps what I experienced was a phenomenon as yet unexplained, wholly within the realms of fact.

Seeing the skeptic permitted entry, the coward tried his charms on the doorman, a masculine fellow with traps the size of roset chickens. Without baudy company to mock my yellow belly, I thought of home, there was time enough yet. Sure, the trains wouldn't run until morning, but a man still might still safely walk the tracks in these leafy byways, and at the station Bucephalus waited.

Whether the men disturbed the rest of a hellhound or bones of a dead doe expanded by the ceaseless freeze-thaw action could a question remain, a chilling inkling to ponder on the Samhain.

A faint dust was visible in the air. A golden sporehaze like foundry sparks taken flight, shifting breezeless. Whether it was the unholy residue of occult practices blighting the gloam or a warning of impending spiritual disaster from the universe itself, I don't know, but I knew to follow my gut, instincts hard-honed.

I sped out the open gate, avoiding its siren keen, and kept a blistering pace until the lane melted where gravel gave to slick grass, then further on nearly stumbling were the tracks, a steel corridor of gnarled teeth. Stemming from negligent workers, trackside grasses growing unwieldy cast ominous shadows, obscuring assailants from the side. I slowed briefly, ensuring my stride matched the distance between planks.

After a time ambling I heard from behind the definite sound of paws plodding, four distinct footfalls increasing pace to match my own, causing me to sprint forward with surprising intensity, flapping like a disturbed bird to keep upright.

Paws clacked against the timbers quick as knuckles on a tabletop, dull heavy thuds, then something emitted a low growl that released the auxiliary adrenaline stocks. Without regard for form I reached my maximum possible speed, tissues, coins and paper scraps falling from my pockets all the while.

I was sure no fevre dream had taken hold, that what gave chase was tangible evil, an anamalous malignance out of another world, an oppressive presence. Some distance at last came between I and it, or least the sound of its routing, but still the aroma of fetid meat wrinkled my nostrils. Intense heat flared across my shoulder blades, as the footfalls came closer than ere before it flared to a searing agony.

I imagined an enormous fissure somewhere along the rows of planks behind, a tunnel hewn from riven flesh, from where mangled fingers rose to grasp my tails, bidden aid Cerberus. The beast thundered along now, terrible jaws searching the air. Teeth, dagger sharp and serrated for tearing flesh clean off the bone, came within inches of my ankles. I felt drops of reeking saliva raining down when the beast's tongue whipped at the empty space I occupied a moment earlier.

In truth I cannot recollect much further, gripped by adrenal berserk time held no meaning. New memories ceased forming. All non-critical faculties were off.

After an eternity I emerged into the dirty light of the station and dared to slow, coughing a lung by a signpost, the chase had not been so rabid these last lengths. The spell which coated those bones in living flesh expired as Sol threatened her wakening divinity, bleaching the hills.

The horizon turned red as iron ore. Hours faded like charcoal met by floodwater. Dawn arrived, silent and chorusless. I found no snapping Cerberus or terrible mastiff, only a dizzying corridor of shifting darkness stretching to infinity, for the dawntorch did not pierce the thicket there. In relief I howled, noting aloud to none in particular that this was likely a record time for this journey, surpassing even the no-stop trains that carried resources to the Hebrides overnight.

In spite of everything, I had to question if a creature ferociously pursued me at all, or merely had some friendly dog trotted alongside for a time. As to whether my own footfalls quickening sent me into a panic I was unsure. Should I be terrified, relieved, embarrassed or a combination of all three?

Next came the darkest revelation. I sat, legs dangling over the lip of the platform, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, held it as if the smoke would absorb my woes.

A draft met my back and the sodden shirt plastered thereupon. No, more than a breeze, a pain. I gingerly pawed the raw area, if the phrasing can be pardoned, and found three scrapes stretching hip to hip. At night they vomit pus onto the swanfeathers corset of gauze I have taken since. Another paroxysm sent me spiralling into blackness.

I suppose it was near enough morning when I woke. Some kindly commuter or station man had taken notice and fetched a doctor, I have no memory of this.

The doctors informed say it will be some time before the wounds heal, that I may never recoup my former vigour, and even in miraculous circumstances, there is danger of tetanus.

Tetanus.

The lacerations were proved to have been canine in origin. Doctors, veterinarians and trappers consulted have been completely baffled by their length, stating no native creature is capable of inflicting wounds suchlike to a man grown.

With this nightmare put to page I hope the oily tendrils of it are scraped from my mind. I must retire to steam the wound again. Most, my spirit is shaken. I have not felt anxiety like it since the war.

I cannot complain overmuch, but blast sleeping on my front! How anyone finds solace in this repose is beyond my imagining, I feel like a lizard basking on hot stones.

April 20th, M Bryn-Kolkiln

[writerspink]

K-12 Words

K

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1.1

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1.2

interest job because such think thirteen subject answer letter meet north length need times divide (by) times table edge soft months present energy point sound log south wide members exercise flowers set found things heart cause site brother teacher live read billion another distance written kept direction developed wall east happy million world must house turn west change well twenty felt put end does large big even here why ask went men land different home us move try kind hand picture again off dress play spell air away animal page mother study still learn should America

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paragraph weather window third believe discovered simple gone paint new store form cells matter follow perhaps cannot good means around line center kind reason move forest sentence return instruments beside represent wild study back farmers sum difference product quotient remainder mother animal land region record summer general caterpillar scratch modern adjust passenger promise equal creak almost croak book dainty song high every near add food between own below country plant last school father keep tree never start city earth eyes light thought head under story saw left don’t few while along might close something seem next hard open example begin life always those both paper together got group often run

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misty poor caution pest phrase life startle squirm alone centaur rise mountain above illustrator footprint temperature decorate country sweat sometimes hair smiled everything began thick compass themselves enough took although splendid crowded second act attach sly talk wonder let’s whirl someone Africa borrow beat belong blink per fasten pain begin drenched bed shell free earth tiny slippery count factors important until children side feet car mile night walk white sea grow river four carry state once book hear stop without late miss idea eat face watch far Indian real almost let girl mountains cut young soon list song being leave family it’s

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drowsy bashful hatch glad copy possible wicked grin sibling shovel run verb sail polish ride young steep case Indian laughed soil appear bolts costume melody narrow behave howl example flee together lot filthy alarm spiral selfish idea conductor fight rolled middle glacier tree dizzy gather sneaky already construct every miss lively metal couldn’t gold plant mask chat nation hear either bundle section near rescue face divide sob celebrate family loosen jealous crash chimney daily own cozy ripe cut son natural serious carry care paper broken cue within body music color stand questions fish area mark horse birds problem complete room knew since ever piece told usually didn’t friends easy heard order red door sure become top ship across today during short better best however low hours black products happened whole measure remember early waves reached

3.2

being instead ache exactly hard speed buy age late artistic close affordable fraction eyes appetite complain sleep seem eat below remove rusty grow glum stormy trust enormous scale open add grab upset weed denied expensive story terrified lead jumped died basket side bear bend list tomb while batch grateful father gleaming dress light sprinkle amount exclaim result yank leave cheat whimper angle outside remain heap champion surprise dodge moment fancy squeeze pretend village shriek city thunder rapid iron striped don’t attitude bell hat tug isn’t applause children honest cross spring freezing listen wind rock space covered fast several hold himself toward five step morning passed vowel true hundred against pattern numeral table north expert slowly money map farm pulled draw voice seen cold cried plan notice south sing war ground fall king town I’ll unit figure certain field travel wood fire upon

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pattern cave hope mile group travel blush killed seed bottom hide important let ticket timid pounds restart silent cranky keep real bright quite curved repeat trip without dart consonant mountains quiet apologize roar grip groan bolt food injury century exhausted cabin atmosphere floor it’s scold transportation delighted giant hill something build fog method rough left everyone obey deserve speak therefore soon french switch until pushed state knob hobby between surround collect fire I’ll arrive road happened certain top order astronomy inches club catch farm nibble color yourself received connect told gaze check wear English half ten fly gave box finally wait correct oh quickly person became shown minutes strong verb stars front feel fact street decided contain course surface produce building ocean class note nothing rest carefully scientists inside wheels stay green known island week less machine base ago stood

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round award crowd slowly yet products, goods, services vowel himself strange whose draw team hold feel flood sent save stood yard notice warn enemy deep please flap coast music wrote safe blast behind island lizard figure famous garden correct whisper listen joined clear share net thus calf maybe cried piece fold seen england decided bank fell pair control clean telescope trouble glass float morning horse produce course hunting rest step statement contain shouted filled zigzag accident cents instrument fly single express visit desert seeds chew dome experiment break gravity against branch size low plane system ran boat game force brought understand warm common bring explain dry though language shape thousands yes equation government heat full hot check object am rule among noun power cannot able six dark ball material special heavy fine circle include built

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mark wealthy row feeling across attention ran map students inside design art mouth ring skill hot during shelter full till log (book) blossom discard bring quickly scientists party town covered wise early cram grain harm goal pause inform heal clue fame freeze badge pimple dim missionary diet dumb rod march agree stick government bulb mall ban greed skiing poison stove image grew fact material dangerous flow gap ago stack explain didn’t strong voice true drawing surface gift corner cloud since king dawn pulled dozen friends greedy burning upon knew insect decimal nervous pay foot weak smooth aware steady serve lost nonetheless beach front atlas questions less cost slight motor banner wire area carefully separate equation local minutes fast table plan fine waves fair sing dive suppose boat thousands shape among toward gas factory birds wait understand sure ship report captain human game history reflect special brave bounce though else can’t matter square syllables perhaps bill felt suddenly test direction center farmers ready anything divided general energy subject Europe moon region return believe dance members picked simple cells paint mind love cause rain exercise eggs train blue wish drop developed window difference distance heart site sum summer wall forest probably

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include cage language base red brain building feast better built demolish excess leap tower ocean plains cold claw information scholar climbed woman worry strand heavy herd common ground damp pack choose president least increase half english invent class measure dash tremble object become doubt became bare wheels continued shiver engine core couple business stars week peak numeral brought nothing touch reached uncle symbols however rumor evening inasmuch (as) force curious heat career system valley dust flock spray robber practice lonely remember luxury warm heard calm rock frighten leader difficulty best gum cheer key support universe stream bit usually fish parade balance money note cliff stand proof you’re pale machine complete cool shown street today shy easy several search unit war power caught settle itself fuel mention fresh planet plane straight period person able direct space wood seal field circle lady board besides hours passed known whole similar underline main winter wide written length reason kept interest arms brother race present beautiful store job edge past sign record finished discovered wild happy beside gone sky grass million west lay weather root instruments meet third months paragraph raised represent soft whether clothes flowers shall teacher held describe drive appreciate structure visible artificial

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afraid absorb british seat fear stretched furniture sight oxygen coward rope clever yellow albeit confess passage france fan cattle spot explore rather active death effect mine create wash printed process origin rose swift woe planets doze gasp chief perform triumph value substances tone score predict property movement harsh tube settled defend reverse ancient blood sharp border fierce plunge consider terms vision intend total schedule attract average intelligent corn dead southern glide supply convince send continent brief mural symbol crew chance suffix habit insects entered nursery especially spread drift major fig diagram guess wit sugar predator science necessary moisture park ordeal nectar fortunate flutter gun forward globe misery molecules arctic won’t actually addition washington cling rare lie steel pastime soldiers chill accordingly capital prevent solution greek sensitive electric agreed thin provide indicate northern volunteer sell tied triangle action opposite shoulder imitate steer wander except match cross speak solve appear metal son either ice sleep village factors result jumped snow ride care floor hill pushed baby buy century outside everything tall already instead phrase soil bed copy free hope spring case laughed nation quite type themselves temperature bright lead everyone method section lake iron within dictionary bargain loyal resource struggle vary capture exclaim gloomy insist restless shallow shatter talent atmosphere brilliant endure glance precious unite certain clasp depart journey observe superb treasure wisdom

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prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

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evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

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apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

8.2

exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

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stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

9.2

feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

10.1

install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite