#little hermann.. puts her in my pocket

[lulivalu]

new year, new hag

[ficsex]

is there any way to write putting on a condom sexy? i always feel like it disrupts the flow of the smut

Absolutely, anything can be sexy!

Strategy # 1 - have it be just a small blip in the narration.

Just mention the condom briefly, so readers know that it exists in the fuck sesh, but don't focus on the act of putting it on. Short, sweet. existent

While Natasha shimmied her pants off, Steve rolled the condom on and knelt eagerly on the bed.

Newt applied a condom with shaking fingers while while Hermann continued to prepare himself, fingers dipping teasingly between his legs.

Strategy #2 - focus on the condom as a reminder that sex is coming, and that's sexy!

You know what's sexy? Sex! You know what often has to happen before sex can occur? Condom! You know what that means? Condom = Imminent Sexy Times!

Tim pulled the condom packet out of his pocket and held it between two fingers, raising one eyebrow suggestively. Sasha grinned dangerously. "I thought you'd never ask."

Grantaire got to the bottom of the shopping bag to find a new, plastic wrapped box of condoms, and an ambitiously sized bottle of lube. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and flicked his gaze to Enjolras.

Strategy #3 - make it part of foreplay.

The characters can make the condom part of getting excited and turned on, and use it to interact with each other's bodies. You, the author, can use it to build tension and desire.

Dirk bit his lip in concentration, and Todd had a moment to consider how absurdly adorable it was before the sensation of Dirk's fingers and the cool latex sliding down his dick were all that he could think about.

Will shifted his hips impatiently. He could hear Hannibal ripping open the condom packet behind him, and he almost wanted to beg him for contact, just a bit, until he was ready to fuck him.

Strategy #4 - make it part of the action.

Sex is busy! It might involve position changes, a break to breathe, teasing, climaxing, more climaxing... having a condom be part of that action doesn't need to interrupt the flow - it can be a part of the flow!

Buffy gasped for breath as her heart rate returned to normal; Spike looked inordinately smug where he knelt between her legs. "It seems like you don't mind my mouth as much as you used to," he observed casually. "Shut up and fuck me," she said, a beat too late, and threw the erstwhile condom packet at his face.

Q sank his teeth into Bond's shoulder, and Bond hissed in irritation at the distraction, his hands fumbling on his own prick as he rolled the condom down. "You little minx," he said warningly. "Keep this up and you'll be fucking yourself."

So!

Anything is sexy or keeps in the flow of the scene if you think of it an an opportunity instead of a chore!

[i-like-it-when-ju-sleeps]

I am the Apocalypse (Part 3)

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Sarah (OC)

Summary:  Takes place during Chicago Fire 3x18. Sarah is a doctor at Med and in a long term relationshp with Jay. She is at Med when the grenade goes off.

Part 1

Part 2 

The next hour was spent trying to help as many people as they could but at this point, they had seen everybody who needed to be seen and people were just really playing the waiting game. Sarah looked at the woman who was in the room with Hermann and came in, deciding to check on them.

“What you got?” She asked the two and Hermann answered instead of the woman.

“We need to patch in your boyfriend” he stated grimly, and the young woman nodded, getting her phone out.

“He was working with Marburg.” Sarah told the blonde woman as she listened to Jay’s information. “He injected himself with it.”

“What's Marburg?” Hermann asked.

“It's a viral hemorrhagic fever. The Soviets developed it as a biological weapon. Ask them which strain of the Marburg virus.”

“Yeah, which strain?” Sarah transmitted over the phone and listened intently before answering the woman. “Raven.”

“Okay. All right. Okay, so now I just have to see if he was past the incubation period and actually infectious.” She stated clearly and the doctor and the firefighter looked at her expectantly.  

“And if he was past the incubation period?” Hermann asked worriedly.

“It means Aleem was a walking biological weapon.” Diane announced and the three of them shared a look before glancing at all of the people outside.

“Alright,” Sarah sighed “Keep me posted, okay?” she asked the other woman before returning outside the room.  The ER was still dark and filled with smoke, people anxiously waiting against the walls. Right now, there was nothing left to do but wait, as everyone who could be treated had already been taken care of. Sarah sighed and sat down, a feeling of tiredness taking ahold of her now that she knew she couldn’t do anything more to help. She leaned against the wall and let her head fall backwards, a feeling of dizziness taking over and her head pounding. She lifted her hand to her forehead, where blood was coming out when the explosion happened. There was still fresh blood on the wound but it was not bleeding too much; She refused to believe that it was something serious. Still, she felt a bit nauseous but blamed it on the lack a clean air rather than a mild head injury. Will, noticing that she looked a bit pale, crouched in front of her and she perked up, looking at his concerned features.

“You okay?” he asked motioning to her forehead.

“Yeah….” She sighed “I’m fine. Just hit my head during the explosion.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“And you still ran around for the past couple of hours? Not checking if it was serious?” Will frowned. She felt like a child being scolded.

“You know I’m a doctor, right?” she chuckled quietly. “If it really was serious, I would have noticed. I just felt dizzy because I’ve been on my feet for hours that’s all”

The man in front of her rolled his eyes and got a small light out of his pocket, checking her eyes.

“You could have a concussion, seriously you…”

“Seriously I’m fine stop fussing over me” Sarah cut him off, a little annoyed. She hated when people treated her as if she were made out of glass, and she did not want to have someone taking care of her when so many were in worse shape that she was. Still, she let Will grab bandages and securing one on her forehead, where the wound was finally stopping to bleed.

The young brunette stood up with a sigh once he was done, aware that he was still looking at her carefully, when movement got their attention. Hermann had just gotten out of the room with Diane Claman and wore a solemn expression.

“What is it?” Matt Casey asked worriedly from behind the two doctors.

“Not contagious” Hermann told everyone, a grin breaking onto his face. Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, and she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Influenza A tested positive, but the Marburg virus didn't have time to incubate. Whatever he had in his body died with him.” Diane then said, her helmet off. The crowd cheered, people letting cries of joy and relief. Sarah turned to Will and the two shared a bone-breaking hug, laughing as a way to let out the stress.

“Open up the ER” Will called out and Otis who was close happily complied. Over his radio, Matt informed the chief that it was all clear and cheers could be heard outside. Sarah looked over at Gabby who was still siting with the older man, Jim. She approached them and gave Gabby a side hug before looking at Jim.

“Ready to pull that thing out and get out of here?” She asked with smile and the man nodded gratefully. The two women helped him sit on a wheelchair and watched as a nurse started guiding him towards another part of the hospital. Before he left, he latched onto Gabby’s arm, thanking her for everything. Gabby blushed slightly and brushed it off quickly, watching him leave.

“You know” Sarah said watching her with a smile. “I still remember when you wanted to become a doctor”

“I sure have gone a long way, haven’t I?” Gabby answered with the same small smile.

“Yeah you have.” Sarah chuckled and gave her another hug.

“You know we still all miss you at the firehouse… You sure you don’t want to come back?” she joked

“As much as I miss all of you, I guess I was always meant to be there.” Sarah sighed looking over her shoulder at the doctors and nurses of Chicago Med who were walking around helping people out. Gabby was about to say something else when a very worried Jay made his way towards his girlfriend. He took a few long steps and engulfed the girl into his arms. Gabby left quietly, not wanting to disturb the two as Sarah’s arms went around her lover’s torso, burying her face into his neck. As they broke the hug, Jay’s hand went to her face, his eyes widening slightly at the blood on her forehead.

“It’s nothing” she reassured him with a soft smile. “I’m fine I promise”. Jay let out a deep sigh looking her in the eyes to make sure she was telling the truth before nodding and taking her into his arms again. As they broke their second hug, Will put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Jay turned to him, giving him also a tight hug.

It took them a long time to actually transport everyone to different wings of the hospital. Every member of the staff that had been in the explosion had been dismissed, but none of them had actually left, helping around as much as they could. Once the day was over, and every patient had been looked after, Sarah tiredly walked into the resting room, only to find Hannah Tramble, sitting down on the ground, tears in her eyes, and Will’s hand placed on her knee in an attempt to comfort her. Sarah gave the two a week smile, sitting cross legged across from them.

“One hell of a first day huh?” she asked Will, although her tone made it clear that she wasn’t expecting an answer. It was a dark question to end a dark day.

 Sarah had finally been able to go home and shower, to wash away the grime, dust and blood from the day. As she wiped the fog on her mirror, she took a look at her reflection. She looked pale, her skin contrasting with her dark brown hair, but also with the purple under her eyes. And on the top of her forehead, hidden among her hairline, there was a purple bruise, on which stood a red angry line. The young woman sighed before concealing her eye bags, applying a bit of makeup and going to her bedroom.

Jay sat on the edge of the bed, simply waiting for her to come out. He hadn’t really been able to talk to her since this morning, as both of them had been busy. He looked up as she entered the room, noticing the tired eyes of his girlfriend.

“We don’t have to go out, you know?” he said quietly “We could stay here and rest if you want to.”

“It’s fine” Sarah answered softly “Everyone is going out and I really need something normal today.” she explained.

Jay stood up and walked towards her, stopping only and inch from her. She could feel his breath as he looked at her, his hand slowly grabbing hers.

“I was so worried about you. When I heard, I hoped that you weren’t there. I just…” he struggled to find his next words, so he settled for simpler ones that he thought conveyed his feelings as best as possible. “I love you”

“I love you too” Sarah answered with a conviction in her eyes that made Jay smile. Jay’s hand rose towards her cheek, touching it as if she was the most precious thing in the world, before their lips connected, a way for them to express what their words couldn’t.

At Molly’s, the couple stood with their friends, beers in hand and laughing around when Chief Boden called for everyone’s attention. The room fell silent, looking at him as he spoke.

“Just a quick word.” He explained “Wanna take a moment and let you all get back to the fine cocktails that they serve here at Molly's.”

“Keep talking, Chief.” Hermann interrupted, which made everyone chuckle.

“To the good people at Chicago Med.” He said, raising his beer slightly. “You made us proud today. And we are very grateful for the service that you do for us and for the city. It's not said enough.” He told us, looking over at the different doctors, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Chief.” Sharon Goodwin answered for all of the staff that was here. “We want you all to know that every time those doors crash open, there are good people, strong people, people at the top of their game ready on the other side.”

With that being said, everyone raised their drinks, a distinct “hear, hear” to end and terrible day on a good note, surrounded by family.

Sarah leaned into Jay as they spoke to Brett, Mills and Will, and she stopped listening to the conversation for a minute, taking a moment to appreciate being surrounded by people she loved, and she smiled to herself, enjoying the beautiful moment she was living after a terrible day. She had hope that no matter how bad everything could get, she’d always get better.

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

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Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. ���When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

[superblizzarddrift]

Teething Problems

This one kinda wrote itself so thanks for the awesome prompt choice @hermanncodednewtboy​! (AO3 version here)

Hermann had been in the waiting room for nearly an hour when Newt finally shuffled in, one hand clutching an icepack to his jaw and the other holding the nurse’s arm.

‘Oh, good.’ He hurried over, struggling to hide his worry. ‘Newton, how are you feeling?’

Newt stared back at him with a look of betrayal. ‘They took my teeth, dude,’ he slurred.

‘Not all of them,’ the nurse said kindly, ‘just the ones that were causing you trouble.’

Newt had been complaining about his wisdom teeth for as long as Hermann had known him. “I’ll get it fixed when the apocalypse is over,” he’d insist whenever Hermann nagged him about it. Ten years later, the apocalypse was over and Newt was out of excuses.

‘Can we go home now?’ Newt let go of the nurse’s arm and latched onto Hermann like a dejected limpet. With a sigh, Hermann settled things with the nurse and listened to her instructions. It was a little hard to concentrate with Newt being so… affectionate. Judging by her smile, she noticed his blush.

It was dark outside. Mako waved from her car. ‘Did it go well?’ she asked as they clambered into the back.

‘No, it was bad,’ Newt muttered, clutching the icepack against his cheek. ‘Didn’t feel any of the teeth come out.’

‘That is a good thing, Newton.’ Hermann leaned over to buckle him in.

‘But I don’t know if they even did it!’

Mako laughed. ‘I’ll get you home.’

“Home” was still the Shatterdome for now, although clean-up had begun and pretty soon the K-Science division would be a thing of the past. Hermann never thought he’d miss that lab – or his annoying co-worker. As they turned a corner, Newt slumped against his shoulder. Hermann put an arm around him.

‘Had really cool dreams.’ Newt mumbled. ‘Each dentist was a different Kaiju…’

In the mirror, Mako’s eyes flicked up briefly before returning to the road. A Kaiju had taken her father, just as it had taken her family before it. He knew she was still grieving, in her own quiet way. ‘How many dentists were there?’ she asked, incredulously.

‘A family,’ Newt pronounced, eyes slipping closed. Without his glasses, he looked more vulnerable somehow. Hermann could see the line across his forehead where the stitches had recently healed, the yellow stain of a bruise on his cheekbone. He resisted the urge to comb his fingers through his messy hair.

Back at the Shatterdome, Mako helped Newt to walk up to his room. He wobbled along amiably enough, but when he started bumping into things Hermann quickly returned his glasses.

Outside his door, Newt fumbled through his pockets. ‘I… I can’t find my key. Maybe I left it inside…’

Hermann’s heart sank. Newt had changed his mind about going five times, until he’d had to almost drag him out the door. The key was probably inside his room.

Mako bit her lip. ‘You could borrow my room for the night? I’ve been sharing with Raleigh anyway.’ She blushed a little.

Hermann shook his head it. ‘Mako, you have done more than enough tonight. I’ll… I’ll take him to my quarters. It’s probably better if someone keeps an eye on him, anyway.’

Mako hesitated. 'Are you sure? I really don't mind...'

Newt looked to Hermann hopefully. 'Sleepover? Please?'

Oh, it was going to be a long night.

Mako followed them to Hermann's room then bid them goodnight.

'Take care, rock star,' she said fondly, with a wink at Newt.

'Mmm,' said Newt vaguely, eyes drifting closed.

Hermann ambled into his apartment, scanning for any litter or discarded underwear before remembering that he never left anything in his room out of place.

Newt sat down on Hermann's bed, groaned and promptly spat a mouthful of bloody gauze into his lap.

'Oh, for heaven's sake, Newton.' Hermann grabbed a handkerchief and cleaned up the mess.

'Hurts,' Newt said miserably, but held still as Hermann gently mopped the red saliva off his fingers and chin. 'Are you sure they took my teeth out?'

'I assure you that they took all four of your wisdom teeth, yes.'

'Where did they put them?' He stared at him tiredly, icepack pressed against his cheek again. 'They're my teeth. So I own them.'

'You can't keep them. If it's any consolation, you have plenty more.'

'But I had them for so long,' he whined, flopping down on Hermann's pillow. 'I saved the world with those teeth!'

With a sigh, Hermann patted his ankle. Sometimes he thought he could feel Newt’s emotions, like some residual effect of their Drift. Some mornings he woke up with a song in his head he'd never heard before. Like it or not, they were connected now.

Newt sighed softly as Hermann's hand found his shoulder. Hermann wasn't sure how it got there, but he couldn't bring himself to remove it. 'Get some rest,' he said finally. Newt did indeed seem to be dozing off, mumbling nonsense as Hermann relieved him of his glasses and shoes.

It would be hard to say goodbye to him, Hermann realised. At some point, their volatile relationship had morphed into something harder to define. He’d told himself it was merely co-dependency from working together for so long, but that didn’t account for their Drift. He’d been inside Newt’s head, and he knew that there was something there too.

Newt appeared to be asleep by the time Hermann draped the blanket over him, but then he stirred. 'I think I'm in love with you,' he said dreamily.

Hermann froze. 'It's only a blanket Newton, no need to be so dramatic.'

'You think I'm joking.' He looked so adorably sad, only his head visible above the blanket. 'You always think I'm joking when I say nice things. But I do love you.'

Hermann looked back at him, and for a moment they were standing together in the pouring rain, minds reeling from the Drift. ‘I – that’s very nice of you. Please try to get some sleep.’ He couldn’t tell him. Not now, when Newt probably wouldn’t remember it, and not when they’d most likely be on opposite sides of the world in a week or two. It was easier to remain detached. That was how he’d been able to do his work in the first place. No ties.

‘Where are you going?’ Newt asked in alarm as Hermann turned away. ‘Don’t go! I’m sorry!’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘I’m going to sleep on the sofa.’ He barely used the battered old couch by the window, but it would suffice for tonight.

‘There’s enough room for two, you know.’ Newt patted the space beside him. ‘Your leg hurts, doesn’t it? I can feel it too.’

Indeed, Hermann’s leg had been throbbing for most of the walk back. He gaped at him. ‘You can?’

‘You’re so cute when you’re all uptight. Come on. Please?’

If they’d been in this situation a month ago, Hermann would have probably marched out and slept in Mako’s room. Perhaps a little bit of Newt had rubbed off on him in the Drift, because he found himself shrugging off his jacket, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed beside him. He switched off the light. Now, only a faint glow came from under the door.

Newt curled up under the blanket, squishing his face into the pillow. ‘This is nice,’ he sighed.

Hermann dared to shuffle a little closer, not quite touching him but close enough to feel Newt’s warmth. ‘Yes, it is.’

There was an itch under his skin, a yearning. He didn’t want to say goodbye, not after all they’d been through. Would he still feel the effects of their Drift when they were far apart? What if Newt got into trouble somehow, would he feel his pain? His loneliness?

‘Newton,’ he said quietly, ‘I – I don’t want you to leave.’

Newt yawned. ‘I’m not leaving, I’m staying here.’

‘I don’t mean this room. I mean you. I don’t want to go back to sending letters.’

There was a silence so long that Hermann was sure Newt had gone to sleep. But then Newt shuffled over until his forehead rested on his shoulder. ‘I don’t want you to leave either.’

Relief flooded through him, so strong that he was sure Newt would feel it. ‘It’s settled, then,’ Hermann said calmly, though his heart was singing. ‘Wherever we go next, we shall go together.’

The bed rustled as Newt fidgeted, then there was a puff of air on his cheek as Newt sighed. ‘I can’t kiss you ‘cause my mouth hurts.’

‘You can’t kiss me because you are full of drugs, you silly man.’ But when Newt rested his head on his chest, he didn’t complain. The icepack dripped cold water onto Hermann’s shirt. ‘So, Doctor Geiszler.’ Fondly, he ran his fingers through Newt’s hair. ‘Was this experience better or worse than drifting with a Kaiju brain?'

‘Better, ‘cause I get cuddles. S’not as cool, though.’

Hermann smiled into the darkness. ‘Tell me about these Kaiju dreams you had?’

‘Well, one of them was Otachi, which was funny because she has wings so she couldn’t hold any of the tools…’ As Newt spoke, a warm contentedness seeped through the both of them. Hermann had no idea what was going to happen next, but all that mattered was they did it together.

He didn’t need the Drift to know that he loved Newt too.

[ikleesfiction]

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 2,409 words Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4 🞂 Part 5

Part 6

It's been a few days since your date night with Jay. It went much better than you expected. You knew from the start that Jay is a good guy and probably a sweet lover too. But after that night, you found out that there's more to him than his good look and easy-going attitude. Jay's gentleness soothes your insecurities. His understanding warms you from inside. It's hard to feel miserable when he's around. You cannot help but latch on to him.

You and Jay keep texting and calling each other every day, but you only got to meet him once since then. For a coffee date before he ran to work while you went for your PT session. His job doesn't leave a lot of spare time, so you relish all the time he spends with you.

You hear your phone rings when you have your lunch. There is a video call request from your best friend and work-mate, Alex. "Hey, you! I miss your stupid face!" you greet him.

"You know what's not stupid?" Alex ignores your greeting. "The new material I received this morning

He refers to an email you sent him last night. Instead of sleeping, you wrote some lines and tinkered some notes on your electric keyboard. It was still very rough, but you and Alex swap ideas all the time. They could be a bar of melodies or chord progressions. Or maybe a single line that you cannot get out of your head, even there's no context to it.

"Wanna work on it soon?" Alex proposes.

"Yeah, sure!" you easily agree.

"You know I'm gonna ask how you come up with that song idea, right?" Alex probes further. He got an idea about your sudden burst of inspiration, but you haven't told him anything yet so far.

"You can ask. I might not answer", you nonchalantly retort. "Are you asking now?"

"I would, but I just arrived at my parents' house for our weekly dinner", Alex turns his camera phone and shows you his family dining table. "Say hi to Y/N, Pop" He lets his parents know that you're on the phone.

"Hallo, Liefje" Alex's parents greet and wave at you. "I miss you, Y/N. How are you doing, darling?" Alex's mom squeals at you.

"I miss you guys too. I miss home," you utter mournfully.

"I saw your dad last week. He and your mom cannot wait to have you back home next month. As are we." Alex's dad informs you.

Your face gets even more upset. "I haven't told my parents yet, but it's gonna be another two months. It's not working out as good as they wanted"

Alex's parents let out a sympathetic noise. "Oh great, I still have two more months to hide all my chocolate from you" Alex teases you instead. He knows if he doesn't throw any humor here, you're going to weep. The family laughs at your offended look.

"Where's Sara?" you ask them when you didn't notice Alex's little sister on the table.

"She's getting ready for a date after dinner. Said they will go stargazing. Can you believe it?" Alex skeptically recounts to you.

"Hmm, that sounds romantic. Good for her." you hum your appreciation. Alex can see twinkles in your eyes.

"Of course, you thought it was charming", Alex sounds vexed.

"Why are you so grumpy about this? You have a hit song that compared someone's eyes with the moon", you remind him. "Last time I checked, that song already got more than 400 million streams on Spotify". Alex just grumbles incoherently, while you can hear his father's booming laugh in the background.

"Alex, would you please call your sister down for dinner?" Alex's mom orders him.

"Alright, ma. Gotta go, Y/N. I'll call you later when I'm back at the studio. Bye, sis!" Alex ends the call.

◢◤

Kelly Severide comes to your place in the evening after he finished his shift. He called you on your cell several times, but you didn't pick them up. He knocked on your door for a few minutes without answers. Worried that something bad happened to you, he uses his key to open your apartment door. You gave him a spare when you began your recovery from the incident. Since you got nobody in town except for the 51 Family, you thought at least one of them should have access to your place, in case you need help.

Kelly sees you sitting on your corner desk with headphones on. Your head is nodding to the beat you're working on. Relieved to know you okay, but feels a bit annoyed, Kelly taps your shoulder lightly. You jump in surprise, almost fall from your chair if Kelly doesn't hold you down.

"Kelly! What..! Why are you..??" your heart is still pounding in shock, makes you unable to finish your thoughts properly.

"I knocked! And called you many times! Neither you answered! I was afraid that you fell and unconscious so I used my key", Kelly exclaims.

You check your phone and see seven missed calls from Kelly. "Sorry, I left my phone on mute, somehow"

Kelly goes to raid your fridge and takes a bottle of apple juice. "Your fridge needs beers" he judges. "Go, get ready! We'll hang out at Molly's. Everyone misses you", Kelly orders you.

"I'm working, Kelly. Just because my work has no shifts, doesn't mean I can go anytime you want", protest you.

"You work for your best friend, who's in another continent right now. You can slack off for a bit" he dismisses your complaint.

"I'm making big progress here. My writing juice is flowing", you point at your laptop.

"One hour. I give you one hour to work. Then I'm hauling you out of here. In the meantime, I'm gonna order take out for us", Kelly decides.

You only mumble your disagreement, knowing that you're gonna lost the argument anyway. So you just put your headphones back on your head. However, Kelly pokes you again five minutes later, with his phone on hand, "Hey, do you want Thai or Greek? I'm in the mood for Greek right now", Kelly playfully asks you.

"Yeah, Greek is fine" you start to feel bothered.

He leaves to order the food while you're back to do your work. Ten minutes passed, Kelly drags a chair from the kitchen island to your side. He knocks on the table to catch your attention.

"Hey, I just remember, Brett said they saw you rescued somebody at the swimming pool last week. How did that happen?" he questions.

You let out a desperate sigh. "You're not going to let me work in peace, are you?"

Kelly just grins. "C'mon, we haven't hung out for a while. Lots of drama to share"

You save your work in defeat and then move to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Kelly sits on the couch with legs resting on the coffee table. You place yourself next to Kelly.

"They extend my therapy for another month" you restlessly play with your bottle cap.

"Is it not going well?" Kelly asks in concern.

"I got cramps that day at the swimming pool. They worried I damaged something. So they prefer to be cautious" you fill him in.

"That's when you rescued Dr. Manning's son " Kelly tries to clarify.

"Well, I just pulled him out of the water. The pool guard was the one who helped him breathe" you shrug.

"You assisted. It still counts as a rescue", Kelly insists. "Bet if Dr. Manning knew, she would buy you drinks at Molly's forever"

"More like got invited to dinner at their place," you mutter.

"Hmm, that's probably true" Kelly pauses for a moment, thinking. "Wait, did you meet her?" he grills you.

"Yeah. And her fiancé. I came to the hospital to check on Owen. Then next thing I knew I'm having family dinner with Manning/Halstead clan", you convey to him.

Kelly's phone chirps interruptedly. "Food's here" He goes to pick up the food from the delivery guy. "Alright, let's eat then we can go to Molly's"

◢◤

Jay is nursing his first beer as he watches Will bottoms up his third glass of whiskey. Will called him earlier in the evening, claimed that he needs bro night out after a shitty day at Med. Jay's initial plan to have dinner with you got scrapped before he even asked.

"Maybe you need to pace yourself, Will", Jay suggests to him as Will signs to Otis for a refill.

"Yeah, Doc. Maybe you want to switch? We have a nice Dutch craft beer chilling here", Otis offers. But Will is still holding out his empty glass to him, silently demanding for more. "Okay then" sighs Otis as he fills the glass.

Jay hears the commotions at the other end of the bar. He recognizes some people from Firehouse 51 there. Christopher Hermann is cackling, while Matt Casey grins widely. They pay attention to someone that is sitting among the group, but he cannot see who because Severide is blocking his view.

Jay checks his phone while he finishes his beer. He received a text from you beforehand, told him that she's going out to meet her friends tonight. He texted back, wishing her to enjoy her night out, but got no replies. Will notices Jay's scrolling on his phone and asks, "Do you need to go back to work?"

"Nah, just checking my texts" Jay puts his phone back in his pocket. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Not in the slightest. But I still have to go to work tomorrow. If I wanna do better than today, I cannot do that with a hangover" Will sulks. "Hey Gabby, I would like to try that craft beer Otis suggested" he requests to Gabby who passes by.

"Would you like one as well, Jay?" Gabby offers him.

"Alright, why not.." Jay accepts the new bottle.

"Is this a new batch? Don't think I ever have it here before", comments Will after his first sip.

"Yeah! Just start to come in this month. It's a friend's favorite. She hooked us up with a supplier directly from The Netherlands. You like it?" Gabby enthusiastically claims.

"It's good. But still not Bourbon", Will pouts. Jay lets out a snort while Gabby snickers.

Jay looks around the bar as he savors his beer. He paused when he thought he saw you sitting among the 51 Gang. Will notices and looks in the same direction. "Is that Y/N?" asks Will.

Jay stands up for his seat, "I'm gonna go say hi to her"

◢◤

You feel a palm pressed to your back as you hear someone's saying from behind, "Didn't expect to see you here tonight"

You turn your back immediately as you realize whose voice it is, "Jay!" shout you excitedly. You open your arms to hug him. Jay lands a chaste kiss on your lips before hugs you back.

Kelly and Matt look at each other over your head with eyebrows raised. "Well, that's something I didn't expect" goads Kelly.

"Severide, Casey" Jay gives them an acknowledging nod with his hands stay on your hips.

"How do you know each other?" Matt asks curiously.

Jay opens his mouth to reply, but you hear Will's interruption, "You guys finally made it, huh?" Jay rolls his eyes at his brother.

"These guys have been sending heart-eyes at each other since they first met" Will tips off the 51 gang. "Which I arranged, by the way. But this result was unintentional"

"No, we're not!" you try to deny.

"I was there, Y/N, at your almost first kiss" Will divulges.

"Oh my god!" you hide your blushing face behind your palms. Jay smacks a kiss on the side of your head, amused while the group makes fun of you.

"I guess this happened after Y/N rescued Owen?" Sylvie asks to confirm.

"Ooooh yes, our next year candidate!" Hermann yells. The others just clap and whistle in response. You thud your head to the bar table, abashed.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. We are proud of you" Casey remarks. "That said if you want to go to the academy..." he continues.

"Nuh-uh, I love my job, thank you very much" you quickly state.

You spend the rest of the night beside Jay, chatting and laughing with 51 Family and Halstead brothers until you let out a big yawn. "Tired?" Jay asks you softly.

You nod, "Beer always made me sleepy"

"Let me settle the tabs, then I'll take you home" Jay squeezes your shoulder as he stands up.

Kelly observes you and Jay throughout the night. When Jay left your side, he lowly speaks to you after making sure everyone else is busy conversing elsewhere. "So Jay Halstead is the one who got your juice's flowing, huh?"

"Kelly!" you slap his arm, agape.

"I mean your writing juice! You said it earlier!" Kelly yelps, but his smirk contradicts his words.

"You're the worst" you just shake your head.

Kelly's face turns serious for a moment, "Does he know about your situation?"

"What situation?" you try to sound innocent, but Kelly just gives you a look.

"Told him about the collapsing stage" you deflated.

"Have you told him that you're leaving in two months?" Kelly pushes.

"It's still too early. Who knows, Jay might end this soon", your voice sounds unsure.

"Don't think so. He looks quite smitten by you. Should probably tell him soon", Kelly disagrees.

"I'm happy right now, Kels. Can I just enjoy this for a while?" you start to lose patience with him.

"He deserves to know" Kelly persists.

You look down at the table, your fist is clenched in frustration. Jay comes back and notices the tense atmosphere. "Is everything okay?"

You reply with a forced smile, "Yeah, let's get out of here" then stand up from your seat and give Kelly a quick hug, "Thanks, Kels"

You move to say goodbye to the rest of the group, which takes a bit of time since everyone wants a hug or has something to tell you.

"C'mon guys, my boyfriend has waited long enough" you cry out when Sylvie and Gabby hold you back from going. The group guffaw even louder and playfully nudges Jay, who just beams brightly at you.

"Good night, guys!" you casually shout, finally getting away from the rest of the group, with Jay's hand in yours.

Next on this fic : Part 7

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

[mssleepy876b]

Family Ties Chapter 6

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 2426

Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 6

It had been over a year and Brie felt solid on her life and her path. She worked because she wanted to and felt her work in Intelligence was helping out the unit who had helped her back to her feet. She had started to take over more and more of the technology work from Adam and Kevin since she had a knack for it. She could figure out tech searches, etc. that they needed and found her skills meant she was faster than Ruzek or Atwater, so Hank had her trained more and more by CPD for technology support for Intelligence.

She was sitting at her desk in the bullpen when Trudy came up. She was carrying a floral display. It included her one-time favorite blue roses, but she didn’t have any guys in her life, so she figured it was for Kim, Hailey or Vanessa. They had quickly become her friends and had helped her build her confidence. She had cut & colored her hair, was wearing different clothes that made her confidence show, and her make-up had changed as well to enhance her features showing the outside changes to match the stronger person now underneath the surface thanks to the support of those around her.

It shocked Brie when Trudy placed the flower display on her desk pulling her again from the work in front of her. “Here. A delivery for you, Cinderella.” She said. Jay turned to see the flowers on Brie’s desk.

Brie stood looking confused and spoke, “Are you sure, Sergeant? Who would send flowers to me? It’s not my birthday so it’s not my parents.” The girls all smiled as Brie took the card from the display and Platt moved back downstairs. Her face paled as she read the card to herself. She reached behind her for her chair in order to sit. Brielle took a moment to gather her thoughts and she shocked the unit by dropping the flowers vase and all in the trash can next to her desk calling out. “Hell, no. How did he find me?” she said her voice angered and wavering as the sound of the vase breaking echoed her comments.

Jay and Hank quickly walked to her and she handed them the card. It was from Michael. Hank read it out loud, ‘You have had your year of fun, love. I will collect you soon from you little experiment at a life without me. And you will be back where you belong at my home and under my orders. See you soon, Brielle. Michael, your husband.’ Brie had walked from her desk and entered the break room leaving the Unit stunned.

Jay followed her once he read the card. “Are you okay, Brie?” he asked placing his hands on her shoulders.

She sighed as she placed one of her hands over his on her right shoulder. “I think so, Jay. I hate feeling scared again. It is like he keeps creeping in taking control of me again and I hate it. How can I stop him?” she said taking a breath and sounding determined.

“You know we all have your back, right?” he said to her as she turned to face him.

“I do, Jay. And I trust you all.” She said smiling up at him.

It took the unit less than 2 hours to track the flowers and how Michael purchased them. It caused Brie to get angrier and angrier thinking about the message. She finally threw down her pen and grabbed her coat running down the stairs to the front door. Hank spoke up, “Halstead, go calm her down. She needs to keep her head on straight while we look for him.”

Jay nodded and moved to follow her grabbing his own coat. He opened the gate to Intelligence only to hear Platt fussing at him. “What’s the deal, Chuckles? What crawled up her butt?”

“The flowers were from her ex.” He replied as he headed to the door as Trudy’s face darkened knowing the full story about Michael and Brielle.

“Check her car first. She is smarter than just heading off.” Platt shouted as he moved through the main doors of the district.

Jay didn’t have to go that far seeing her pace near a bench by the front door. “Talk to me, Brie.” He said moving closer slowly.

“I’m angry, Jay. The thought that he believed I would just give in, fall right back into a situation where he beat me and hit me, and I would just let it go and forgive him is ridiculous. It is as if he never saw me as a person at all. I hate that idea of that for anyone. I haven’t done everything I have this past year to fall back into that death trap. He will NEVER put his hands on me again.” She said venting to him as she motioned displaying her anger with her hands.

“Okay. That is a natural reaction. And you have done a lot of changing in the past year. Your confidence is a big piece that I have noticed. Atwater and Ruzek tell me that you have been swatting the guys away at Molly’s lately.” He said getting a small laugh from her. She took a breath and sat next to him on the bench. “Look until we know more, you have to be more careful. Running out of the building like this alone is not safe. Michael’s crew is still around you know that. They work for his uncle. They were absorbed back in. Michael coming out probably means they will be back with him. Until we get him off your back, stick close to us and don’t leave the building alone. You have learned from all of us this year. Use those skills we taught you, okay?” he said. She nodded and took in a deep breath sighing out loud. “Ready to head back in?” He asked. She nodded and stood as he smiled and led them back into the unit.

Two weeks later, Brie had to take a personal day to complete some personal tasks that had been left undone due to her focus on work in Intelligence. She smiled as Ruzek and Atwater texted her about how they missed her tech skills on a new case they had started today. She also smiled when Jay called to check on her during her lunch. She had a huge amount of respect for Jay but was cautious about letting any feelings grow for him. She had heard from Kim how he had been hurt several times by different people in his life. Brie knew she thought of Jay differently than the others, but she would never cross the line unless she knew how he felt. She valued their friendship too much to risk alienating him.

Brie left from her quiet lunch at the small café and started to feel disconcerted. She felt like she was being watched and it worried her. Her senses started to react to her intuition. She quickly spotted the car following her. She could tell that there were at least 2 men in the car. Her first thought was Michael sent them. She wasn’t close enough to go to the Precinct but noticed she was not far from Firehouse 51. Christopher Hermann and Kelly Severide were guys that she learned to trust from Molly’s, and she knew they would help her. She pulled into the parking lot and quickly walked to the door of the building closest to the lot. She entered and watched as the car parked across the street from the lot and waited. She started to get concerned and went to find Hermann or Severide. She ran into Captain Casey first literally almost knocking herself down. She blushed as he caught her to prevent her fall. “Oh, god. Captain Casey, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She said trying to control her emotions.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. But you look upset, Brielle, right? You work in Intelligence, with Detective Halstead, right?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I’m an administrative assistant as well as a tech assistant for the unit.” She said.

“What’s got you upset?” he asked her.

“I think I am being followed, Captain. I came here to get help.” She said. She pointed to the car. “I took a personal day to handle errands, etc. and that car has been following me since I left the café where I had lunch. It follows me everywhere.” She said.

He nodded and she noticed a stern look come over his face. “Come on. Let’s go call your Unit. They will not put up with this.” He said leading her to the Bullpen.

He led her to a desk near Chief Boden’s office and he let her sit while he let Chief Boden know what was going on. Boden stepped out and told Casey he would stay with Brie while Casey told the others at the house what was going on. Brie sat and pulled her cell from her pocket. She pulled Voight’s number from her cell and dialed it into the phone in front of her. She listened as the phone rang. He then spoke clearly. “Voight.”

She spoke clearly and quickly. “Uncle Hank? It’s Brie. I’m at Firehouse 51. I was out running errands after lunch and I saw a car following me. I can’t seem to lose it and it is sitting across the street from the parking lot at the station. I didn’t feel like I had enough time to come to the precinct. It is a navy four door sedan with tinted windows. I can tell there are two guys in the front seat, but I can’t see the back seat. I was concerned as I felt like I was being watched since I left my lunch stop.”

Hank spoke after listening to her. “You did good, Brie. Stay there at 51. We will come and get you, make sure you are safe. 51 will keep you safe until we get there. We’ll look into this.” He said hanging up the phone. He exited his office and called out across the unit. “Halstead, Upton, and Burgess. Go to Firehouse 51. Brie is there. Thinks she is being followed. Navy 4 door sedan parked across from the station’s parking lot. She is inside the house with Chief Boden and the 2nd shift.”

Jay stopped near the station and let Hailey and Kim handle the car while he continued on to see to Brie. He quickly parked his truck and recognized her car sitting in the lot next to Captain Casey’s truck. He walked quickly onto the apparatus floor finding the Squad table empty he entered the doors near the common room. Severide greeted him. “Jay.” Kelly said shaking his hand. “Your unit’s assistant is in the Bullpen with Boden and Casey.” He said leading the way.

Kelly heard Jay release a breath and spoke again. “Everything okay? You all seem protective over her.”

“Her abusive ex got out of jail last week. He started to harass her two weeks before that. He has ties to organized crime and can’t seem to take no or being ignored as an answer. He was controlling and told her in a note with flowers that he was going to get her back.” Jay said his face setting in anger. “She’s a good person, Severide. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s done a lot to help herself in the last 18 months. Voight has known her since she was a kid and used to work with her father who is retired CPD.”

“Enough said.” Kelly answered turning the corner to enter the Bullpen.

Jay let out another deep breath when he saw her sitting at a desk with Chief Boden standing nearby. He walked over to the Chief and shook his hand. “Chief Boden.” Jay said.

“Detective Halstead. Ms. Jacobs came here due to the vehicle she says appears to be following her this afternoon.” Chief Boden said.

“Understood, Chief. Detective Upton and Officer Burgess are across the street right now and handling the vehicle.” Jay said. He looked down and saw Brie watching him from a nearby desk. “How are you feeling, Brie?”

She replied quickly as he moved closer to her, “Better. I felt safer once I got inside here. I promised I would keep the Unit alerted to anything unusual.” She said.

“Good job. You used the skills you have learned to protect yourself. We’ll find out soon if Michael is involved.” He said placing a hand on her shoulder.

His radio began to sound causing him to move his hand to turn up the sound. It was Hailey’s voice calling in the license plate and alerting that she was approaching the vehicle with Kim. It took a few minutes before Hailey came back on the radio and said the vehicle was departing with a warning to stop tailing a CPD employee. Jay released another breath. He felt Brie slide her shaking hand into his and take a deep breath herself. Hailey and Kim quickly joined Jay, Brie and the others.

Hailey entered leading Kim, smiled at Jay and Brie before she spoke. “Driver and friend were paid $500 bucks to tail her for the afternoon. Approached through a registered PI and paid by the PI. Got his information so we can pay him a visit later.” She said.

“So, no solid connection to DiLeone yet?” Jay asked.

“Not yet.” Hailey said.

Jay turned to Brie who had pulled her hand back when Hailey arrived. “What do you want to do, Brie? Do you want us to help you get back to the Precinct or what?”

“I should probably head in. Sergeant Voight will want my statement as well needing to help Ruzek and Atwater with the technology searches.” She said standing and running her hands over her slacks. “How do we get my car from here if I ride back with you? I am not sure I could drive right now.” she asked.

“I’ll drive it to the district for you, Brie.” Kim offered.

Brie nodded accepting Kim’s offer. “Thank you for your help, Chief Boden. I’m sorry if I disrupted your house.” She said to him shaking his hand.

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Playing With Fire - Moving On

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93​, you rock! 

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC) 

Warnings: Language probably. 

Wordcount: 2065

MASTERLIST

The world was spinning when Beth woke up the next morning, so she decided it wasn't even worth it to open her eyes. That's until she remembered how the night had ended, and her eyes flew open. 

“Oh thank god,” she muttered when she learned she was alone in her bed. For a while she just lay there in silence, listening for any sounds in her apartment, when she was certain that she was alone she decided to get up. Groaning, she rolled out of bed and threw a blanket around her shoulders before she padded to the kitchen in need of water, Advil, and bacon.

She furrowed her brows at the little note on her table, her tired and puffy eyes having a hard time concentrating on the words. 

 Thanks for a fun night! Sorry to sneak out before dawn, but duty calls. I realized that I didn't get your number, so I'm gonna leave you with mine just in case you want a re-run. No pressure. 

- Jay   

Beth groaned as she balled up the paper. “Nice jobb, dumbass,” she scolded herself.

Thanks to the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, her nerves were fried, so when there was a knock on the door, she jumped. For a second she just stared at the door, very annoyed with the person on the other side of it. 

“Good morning, player,” Gabby greeted in a chipper tone, smiling from ear to ear. “You look like shit,” she added as she handed Beth a cup of coffee she had brought for her. 

“I look better than I feel then,” Beth mumbled as she took the styrofoam cup from her friend. She didn't even invite her in, just turned around and started making her way back to the kitchen. 

“You alone?” Gabby asked, tentatively looking around the small apartment. 

“Why?” Beth asked, snapping her head around so fast she thought she might throw up. Damn hangover. 

“You know Jay works with my brother right?” she deadpanned. “Plus, Otis and Hermann were still at the bar when you two left. So was Kelly - my roommate,” she summarized.

“Gossip spreads faster through a firehouse than it does through my family. I'm impressed,” Beth said with annoyance in her voice. 

“Tell me about it,” Gabby agreed. “Look… I had Matt drive me downtown to get your car-” she handed Beth the keys - “He's outside and we really have to get to work. I just wanted to get you your keys and check in.” 

“Thanks,” Beth said softly. “I'm good. A little embarrassed, and a lot hungover, but I'll live.” 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Gabby assured. “You are both consenting adults, nothing wrong with having a little fun.” 

“I know. Just thinking that getting over someone by getting under someone else might not be the best plan of action,” Beth said with a dry chuckle. 

“Fair point,” Gabby agreed. “Look, can we catch up later?” She was clearly stressed and in a rush to get to work, so the two said their goodbyes and then she was out the door. 

Beth threw back some Advil, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then went straight back to bed, hoping she would be able to sleep away the hangover before she had to be at work that afternoon. At least she knew that everyone at 51 would be working that night so she wouldn't have to run into any of them. And by any of them, she meant one in particular. 

***

A couple of days went by without Beth really socializing with anyone. She hid in her apartment as much as she could, still sort of embarrassed by the events of the other night. 

That night there was quite the crowd at Molly’s, so Beth was more than a little relieved when Gabby showed up to help out. It was crazy busy, but it didn't take long before Beth realized that something was up with her friend. Behind Gabby’s beautiful smile, there was a hint of sadness and at the first opportunity, Beth dragged her friend to the end of the bar so they could talk privately.

The past two days had been crazy. Mills and Brett, the two EMTs, had been kidnapped, but ultimately found in one piece. Chief Boden and his wife, Donna, had their baby, but little Baby Boden had some complications and was still being treated at the hospital. Kelly had broken things off with his wife and sent her back to Florida. It was a lot of information to get all at once, but they didn't have time to go into too much detail. 

“And today, this gorgeous blonde comes trotting into the station on ten inch heels, looking for Matt. I ask her what it was about and then she hands me his phone and announces that he had left it at her place when he left that morning,” Gabby explained, finishing up the tale of crazy that had been going on. 

“What?!” Beth exclaimed. “He cheated on you?” 

“No. Turns out it was Severide’s bimbo and Matt had just crashed on the couch,” she said. “I'm just.. I think I'm just starting to realize that we’re not gonna make it through this,” she concluded with a heavy sigh. 

“What are you going to do?” Beth asked, trying not to put too much thought into the whole Kelly part of the story. 

Gabby just shrugged, and before she could say anything else, Jay walked up and interrupted them. “I'm gonna go- uhm - be somewhere else,” Gabby said awkwardly before hurrying away. 

Beth had dreaded this moment since the other night. She wasn't really a one night stand kind of girl, so this situation was a little unfamiliar to her. “Hey,” she said a little awkwardly. Jay’s smile was very charming as he greeted her back. “Gabby just filled me in on what's been going on. Seems like you’ve had a few busy days,” she noted. 

The intelligence squad that Jay worked for had been the ones that helped find Brett and Mills. “Yeah,” he nodded. “But we got them back in one piece, and the bad guys are behind bars, which is all that matters.” 

“Good job, Detective,” she complimented. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“I'm actually on call,” he said simply. “I just came by to say hey. Maybe see if you have any plans tomorrow?” 

Fuck. “Look-” Beth started, not really knowing what to say. “I had a really great time the other night-” 

Jay cut her off. “But you’re not really looking for anything right now,” he finished without any accusation in his voice, still with that charming smile on his face. 

“It's just that I'm trying to get over someone and I don't think using you as a rebound is fair on either one of us,” she tried to explain. Jay was smart, kind, and funny, and under different circumstances she would be all over this. However, right now wasn't the time for them. 

“Lieutenant Severide?” he asked. Beth didn't answer him, but he definitely knew. “Alright then. We still good?” 

“I hope so,” Beth said. 

He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek before saying goodbye and heading back to work. 

***

The evening went by in a hurry and before they knew it, Gabby was shooing the last of the customers out the door, locking it behind them while Beth grabbed them each a beer so they could finish the talk they started on earlier. 

“I have to get out of Matt's house,” she suddenly said. “Two months ago, if that girl had shown up at the firehouse like she did today, my first thought would have been that there's a reasonable explanation here. Now, though, my first instinct was that he had cheated on me and I - I don't know. I'm just thinking that it's already over between us.” 

Beth didn't really know what to say, but she had seen how they had struggled for the past couple of months. “If you need a place to crash, my door is always open. And my couch is surprisingly comfortable,” she offered. 

“Thank you,” Gabby said with a half hearted smile. “Tonight?” 

“Absolutely,” Beth said, pulling her friend into a hug. “And for the record, I think that you and Matt will figure this all out. Maybe not right away, but I do believe in the two of you.” 

“You’re a good friend, Beth.” 

Both of them were more than ready to call it a night and go back to Beth’s for some much needed rest, but it turned out that the evening wasn't quite over for Beth yet. 

When they stepped out of Molly’s the first thing they saw was Kelly, leaning against his blue Mustang, waiting for her. 

“You have a minute?” he asked, looking at Beth as he pushed himself off of the car and taking a few steps closer to them. 

Beth fished her keys out of her pocket and handed them to Gabby. “I'll be right there,” she assured. 

“You sure?” Gabby questioned, looking between Beth and Kelly, but when Beth nodded her head, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

“What's that about?” Kelly asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Not my place to say,” she stated simply. “Why are you here?” It was a chilly night and Beth tugged her jacket tighter around her body to shield her from the cold wind. 

“I just wanted to apologize for the other night. It wasn't my place to say anything.” 

“Apology accepted. That all?” she asked coldly. 

Kelly didn't say anything, his mind busy searching for words he couldn't find. 

“Alright then. Good talk,” she said sarcastically as she took a few steps backwards before starting to turn away. 

“No. Wait,” he said, making her stop in her tracs. “You said that you hoped we could find a way to be friends down the line… Guess I just needed to know that I didn't fuck that up.” 

“You didn't,” she assured. “But we’re not there yet. At least I'm not.” 

“Anything I can do to help you get there?” he wondered, taking a few steps closer to her. He desperately missed her. Her smile. Her laugh. Her touch. He knew that he had ruined any chance of a relationship between them, but he couldn't stand the thought of losing her completely. 

“Space and time, just like I asked for. I told you that as long as you’re seeking answers at the bottom of a bottle-” 

“I promise you that I'm done with that,” he vowed, cutting her off. 

“So you weren't out with Matt - two days after your wife left- getting drunk and crawling into someone else's bed?” She wasn't angry at him, but the accusation and jealousy in her voice was clear as day. 

“That's different,” he defended. 

“I shouldn't have brought that up,” she said quietly. It had nothing to do with them really, and it wasn't like she hadn't done the same thing with Jay. 

“That's okay,” he assured. 

“Look,” she said with a deep sigh. “Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened between us, and what happened after.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“That I care about you,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes. “Probably more than I should. And I have no idea where to go from here.” 

Hope rose in him at her words, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Beth, I'm not the kind of guy that shows up in the middle of the night to make amends. I care about you too, a lot.” It was so great to finally get that off his chest, to finally admit to her how he felt. 

“Yeah. You showed me just how much when you went to Vegas and married the first girl you met,” she accused. 

Now he was confused again. “I made a mistake, Beth,” he pleaded. 

“I can't do this,” she said, slowly taking a few steps backwards. “I hope we can be friends one day, Kelly. I really do. But I can't do this dance with you right now.” She shook her head as she turned around and started on the short walk home, not stopping or looking back as he called out her name. 

Tags: @campingmonkey @deansgirl215 @thevelvetseries @graniairish 

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Crackship Sails to Molly’s - Hailey Upton x Kim Burgess - Strain

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

Instead of her alarm clock, it was the sound of retching in the bathroom that woke Kim up. She sighed, pinching her brows together. She didn’t need to ask why Hailey didn’t wake her up when she wasn’t feeling well, she’d been dating her long enough to know the answer. She grabbed a glass of water, a ginger ale from the fridge and a hair tie from their dresser. After tying back Hailey’s knotted and sweaty hair she sat on the bathtub next to her, rubbing her back. “Do you think you’re well enough to try some water? A ginger ale? We should get some fluids into you.”

“I’m-”

“And don’t you dare say that you’re ‘fine’.”

“... Let me wash out the taste of vomit in my mouth and then I’ll try the ginger ale.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Hailey, you know that-”

“No, I really just... Thank you. For taking care of me, for loving me, for everything. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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

The ginger ale did not help, nor did the medicine she’d been able to keep down. Her fever spiked, she was so flushed her skin was an irritated pink, she’d gotten dizzy, and she started to hallucinate a talking dog wearing a lion costume. Kim had managed to corral her into the car but nothing, not even Dr. Choi when they got to MED, could calm her down. Her fiance was getting sicker and sicker and nothing was going to be able to quell the panic and fear inside of her. So she sat at Hailey’s beside, curled up in an awful chair, letting her tears flow freely as she cradled the hand of her unconscious soulmate. “Hey, Kim. I got your text. And pizza for you.”

“Pizza, Jay? Really?”

“Hailey would maim me if she found out I didn’t take care of you when she couldn’t. Seriously, we actually made a pact. So eat your food, drink this bottle of water and get ready to be fussed over. She’s gonna make it.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s my best friend, we’ve been through so much together that there’s no other option for me. She’s going to make it, she has to.”

“She has to.”

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

Hailey had woken up the next day, but only momentarily. She’d mumbled something about dancing tulips and promptly passed out again. Kim and Jay laughed lightly at her expense, but they were mostly just relieved that she was getting better. Her fever was down and according to Dr. Choi that was really good news. They wouldn’t be able to tell if the dizziness or nausea had dissipated until she woke up, but the fact that she was waking up was amazing. She’d caught a nasty strain of the flu, it was so bad and unusual that the CDC had to get involved. Study her treatment, interview close friends, get samples from Hailey. The works. They were actually starting to get pretty concerned about all the blood tests and tissue samples they needed when Will showed up with an explanation, the strain of flu that Hailey has isn’t from the U.S. so it was slightly different than the strains they’re used to treating, at that point they were just trying to determine where it was from and if they needed to be concerned about an outbreak. 

So Kim and Jay calmed down a bit. They were still worried, but having Will there to decipher all of the doctor speak, it was a little easier. When her fever broke they were approached by one of the CDC doctors who had been observing Hailey’s case. They could both tell from the look on her face that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. “Detectives Burgess and Halstead, I’m afraid I have bad news. We have determined the origin of the strain that has infected Detective Upton. It’s from England, and it’s a unique strain because it appears to have been formed overtime from a few different strains from different countries, not uncommon in people who travel frequently without adequate vaccinations. We have determined a course of action, but unfortunately might be too late. The antibiotics that she needs need to start being taken within 72 hours. It’s been 61. And the closest antibiotics we could get are in London, England. It’s an eight hour flight and they have to go through customs and the FDA and they just might not get here in time. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. She can’t- Why- No-” Tears were streaming down Kim’s face and she fell back into her chair. “This can’t be happening, we’re supposed to be together, have more time together. More time. Just a little more time, please.” Jay was standing beyond Kim’s chair, watching with a fractured soul as she stroked his best friend’s face and begged her to wake up. When suddenly, it dawned on him. “Dr. Tamara, do the antibiotics have to arrive on a commercial plane?”

“Well, no, but a private plane wouldn’t be faster and would cost a lot more money.”

“What about a military plane?” Hope was starting to creep into his desperate features, and instead of meeting sorrowful silence, he was met with mirroring spirits. “I don’t have those kinds of connections to make that happen, but if you do that would absolutely work.”

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

Jay managed to get the antibiotics on a military passenger/cargo flight from London to Chicago, almost halving the time everything would’ve taken. Kim hadn’t stopped hugging and thanking him since he got off the phone with an air force buddy he’d done a couple of operations with while he was in the rangers. The meds had been given with four hours to spare, so now both detectives were just a pile of nerves, antsy to see Hailey open her eyes. “For the last time Kim, you don’t need to thank me. Hailey’s important to me too, okay? I haven’t been holding onto that ring for her for the past four months for nothi- Shit.”

“... Ring?”

“Yes.”

“An engagement ring?”

“Yeah.” Kim turned back to the love of her life, happiness shining through for the first time in days, “you better wake up, Hailey Ann Upton. How am I gonna say ‘yes’ if you don’t even ask me?”

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

Hailey woke up, and was lucid. Kim and Jay were trying so hard not to overwhelm her. So when Intelligence and firehouse 51 had stopped by they just smiled gratefully and accepted all of the get-well-soon gifts that were offered and sending everyone on their way. When Jay re-entered the hospital room after accepting a batch of cookies and containers of lasagna from the ever angelic Cindy Hermann, he found Kim and Hailey curled up in bed together. Smiling, whispering and just enjoying being in each other’s arms again. Kim blushed at his chuckles and Hailey grinned sheepishly. “I needed a cuddle from my favourite girl, Jay, what can I say?”

“She gave me her puppy-dog eyes. I had no choice.”

“Yeah,” he looked at Kim meaningfully, implying her to remember their conversation about Hailey’s not-so-secret intentions, “you didn’t really stand a chance.”

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

Jay dropped the two women off at their apartment a week later after Hailey had finally been discharged. “Thanks for dropping us off Jay, I appreciate it. And Hailey, you still have to take it easy, I’ll go put your hospital bag away and order some food and after Jay heads out we’ll have a Mamma Mia! Marathon, okay?”

“Alright, well my work here is almost done then.” He was met with two sets of raised eyebrows, so he turned his teasing smirk to his partner. “Someone has to make sure you don’t get up unsupervised while Kim’s in the other room.”

“Smart thinking, Halstead.”

“Hey! I’m capable of taking care of myself.” Kim jogged to the bedroom in a fit of laughter, leaving Hailey and Jay alone for a few moments. Jay leaned his body out to look down the hallway and make sure that Kim was out of earshot before he turned back to Hailey. She looked better than she did before, her pallor was back to normal, her eyes were vibrant, and she was glowing in happiness and relief, though her movements were still lapsed and slow. Jay reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the navy velvet ring box and placed it into her confused but waiting hand. “I accidentally let it slip when you were in the hospital. You should’ve seen her face when she caught on, she loves you. So much, and if these past couple of weeks have taught us anything, it’s that you don’t have the time you think you do. Ask her, she’ll say yes. I guarantee it.” After a one-armed hug with a shocked Hailey, Jay shouted a goodbye to Kim before taking his leave.

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

They’d finished the first movie and were about to put in the second, but Hailey hadn’t even noticed, she’d spent most of that time staring at Kim.

“Hails? Are you okay? Do I need to call Dr. Tamara?”

“I... I’ve tried writing speeches and planning exactly what to say, but I can’t because you’re too amazing to capture with words. Nothing ever seems good enough. And I have to be honest, I love that, because it means that I love you so much I can’t even fully comprehend it. And I know that you feel the same way, too. Kim, will you marry me?”

Hailey revealed the box from behind her and opened it up to show her the ring. Her heart was hammering in chest so hard and she just couldn’t force her eyes away from Kim’s face and the wistful tears accumulating in her eyes that mixed with the beaming smile she just loved to see.

“Yes!”

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 2 : Section 6 : Dam Break

Red has been pushing and pushing the limits of the protection he is allowed to give his little brothers. After he confronted Anti about Dapper’s medication, Anti agreed to allow Dok to be in charge of his treatment from now on – but he also decided that Red has to pay the price for the weeks of subtle disobedience he’s accumulated, and his punishment won’t be merciful.

Trigger warnings for major abuse, blood, murder, torture, imprisonment, and psychotic symptoms.

Find Chapter One here.

Find Chapter Two here.

  Section Six of Chapter Two: Dam Break

Anti, more than anything else, likes to taunt you.

That much you know. That much you remember. That’s why you’re here, at the end of the day. That’s the only reason you’re here.

Anti, more than anything else, likes to taunt you.

Your cameras have been dead for days, no signal forthcoming no matter how many times you try to connect. Now, an odd signal shows up on your tracker, not like anything you’ve ever seen before. You’re not hacking into a livefeed, you’re being sent an old recording.

From a police surveillance camera.

The image fuzzes painfully into view,  and Red appears before your eyes. He is curled in the back of a cold metallic prison cell, shaking, his cheeks wet with tears. You watch him through a pair of silent cameras in the corners of the interrogation room and the room beside it. Red doesn’t know you’re there, or maybe he just can’t focus long enough to stop crying and look up. You’ve never seen his shoulders shaking that hard.

The police officers chatter in rapid-fire Spanish on the other side of the glass, not loud enough for him to make out even if he could speak the language. The cop who brought him in comes back into the room and looks him over again, irritated by her own confusion. You can see it in her face.

“What’s your name?” she tries, not for the first time, through a thick accent.

His mouth trembles. He stares down at her professional little work shoes.

“If you tell us, it makes everything easier. For you. For me. Us. Makes things easier. What’s your name?”

No answer. His eyes are so sorrowful, like those little dogs in the shelter commercials. But she doesn’t feel bad. Monsters don’t deserve her pity.

She sighs and brings up her clipboard, scrawling something along the top. No ID, no documents, no address, nothing. Just a broken phone in his pocket, incapable of doing anything but glitch. “You’re American?” she asks.

He shrugs, holding his knees to his chest.

“No? Yes?”

He blinks and tears come trickling down his face. Exasperated, she lowers the clipboard again.

“Fine, don’t tell anything to me,” she snaps. “Soon we will find something. We will tell other authorities. Easier for you to get along with us, yes?”

Red closes his eyes tight and sticks the bend of his thumb in his mouth, biting down on it hard, trying to stay calm. She may as well still be speaking Spanish. He can’t focus on a word she’s saying. Can’t focus on anything but the blood.

His dark hands reaching up, begging for mercy, the heavy red river-run, making the whole air sting with copper-smell; Red had drawn back, revolted by his own hands, and the dark eyes slid oh-so-slowly-shut, the screaming dying down like an animal no one put out of its misery –

“Hey!” shouts the cop, slamming her clipboard on the bench beside him. “Pay attention! What, you are shaken up, huh? You are upset – sad? I don’t care how long you sit here crying, gringo. We all know you killed that man.”

“No,” croaks Red.

They let him wash his hands. He can still feel the blood.

“No, no, no…”

He just did what Anti told him to. That can’t have been bad. He can’t have killed him. Not really. It was a joke, maybe. One of Anti’s tests of obedience. Not real. Not real.

The officer swears in Spanish and turns her back on him, heading out the door again. Red reaches out as it begins to close, yelping in panic.

“No, no, no!” he screams, trying to rise on unsteady feet. “No, please let me go! I need to go back to my master! Anti! Anti!”

The door slams shut, locking with a fatal click.

 Red cries in earnest, slamming his head against the wall, sobbing like his heart is shattered, trying not to think.

It can’t have been real. It can’t have been real. It can’t have been real.

His hands are slicked in blood.

 The door doesn’t re-open for another twelve hours.

He looks up desperately at the creaking of the hinges, and there, there is that blessed silhouette of his little brother, standing before him with his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, his face calm, his neck hidden by a scarf even in the tropical heat.

“Anti,” sobs Red, and then he is staggering to his feet and rushing towards the door, throwing himself into his brother’s arms. Anti hugs him back gently, running a hand down the small of his back.

“¿Lo dejaste aquí toda la noche?” he asks, letting Red thud his forehead soundly against his collarbone.

 Red realizes there are still cops with them, hovering strangely far away from Anti. It takes a long time for anyone to answer.

“Sí,” admits an officer finally, hiding slightly behind his partner.

Anti hums, nodding. He strokes a warm hand through Red’s hair, examining him carefully. His boy’s whole body shakes, timid and minute, and he claws compulsively at his hands, visibly distressed.

Perfect.

“Apologize,” says Anti, softly.

Red opens his mouth to say sorry immediately, looking up at Anti with desperation in his eyes, but his master puts a finger on his lips and silences him.

The officers exchange looks.

Anti turns slowly towards them. His eyes are dark.

“Apologize,” he repeats, quieter still.

A long pause in the hallway.

“Lo siento,” somebody whispers.

Anti nods slowly, pushing Red off his chest. He turns and walks away without another word, his boots clicking on the linoleum floor of the station, leaving several shaken law enforcement officials behind him. Jackie doesn’t know what he did to get him set free and he doesn’t care. He hurries after Anti.

“Anti,” he whispers, stumbling past processing stations, civilians, and officers alike as they head towards the warm wash of the open air. He wants someone to hold onto him, to put weight on his body and wrap him up tight in their arms. “Anti, Anti.”

His brother ignores him, pushing through the door to the outside. Jackie moans, feeling bleary and exhausted, and continues after him.

For a second, you connect to the surveillance camera outside, so Anti knows you catch the last glimpse of it all.

“Did you learn your lesson?” asks Anti, not looking at him.

“Yes,” sobs Red. “Yes.”

“You don’t want to go to prison?”

“No, no, no!”

“So…”

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Because - ”

“I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing, I’m nothing, I’m sorry.”

Anti laughs, grabbing his wrist. “There’s my good boy. My good, stupid, pathetic little creature. Fucking idiot boy. You’re a horrible excuse for a brother, Red. So here’s what’s going to happen - you and I are going home. You’ll stay in the house. Put your brothers back in order, or I will send you out on another murder, and when you inevitably fuck it all up, I will let the cops have you. They can ship you back to Italy or Norway or wherever it is you’re wanted for the most murders. Sound good?”

Red is sobbing so hard all he can do is shake his head. He reaches out to touch Anti, but his brother pushes him away, and turns back towards the mountain without another word.

The date on the camera reads Jan 16.

Whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Blue I would get the med kit ready buddy. Pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, your twin is in trouble. Things are about to get nasty. He knows everything! Anti knows everything! Anonymous asked: “…Dap.. Please use the horn that’s under the sink. You trust me, right..? If you do, please, us. The horn. I-I can help you.” -PF!H Anonymous asked: Blue I’m so sorry,,, Red went to help warn Anti about the medicine and now I think your twin is being rewritten. Anti knows the magic you’ve done so be careful once Red is back! Be strong for your family!

Anti’s little film finishes in cold static and you disconnect from the recording, finding a more familiar code available now that you’ve seen what you wanted to see. Reconnecting to the clinic camera code brings every camera in the house back onto your screens, and you’re with the boys again.

Blue is cooking in the kitchen - plain rice, it looks like - and he looks up in surprise as the camera begins pinging like crazy, picking up your old messages that never reached him in time. He opens his mouth, confused.

“Oh,” he murmurs finally, blinking and looking down at his rice. His voice is very quiet. “You all tried to warn me, didn’t you? Thank you… sorry, I didn’t… I don’t know, I… thank you for trying your best.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, are you alright?

“Oh,” sighs Blue, taking his rice off the cooker. “Just a little tired, is all.”

There’s soft crying in another room, and - is that screaming? It’s a little farther off, but you don’t know where.

nikkilbook asked: Not to freak anyone out, but Hermann, the guy who cornered Red, could turn invisible. We couldn’t see him, Dap couldn’t see him, he was only seen when he wanted to be seen. Y’all aren’t the only magic thing in this city anymore.

“Mmmh,” Blue hums, spooning rice onto a plate. He didn’t make that much. “Anti says Dapper most likely killed that one man, Hermann. Stabbed him deep. Most likely he’s not walking around one way or another, and definitely not hiking the mountains. The people around here watch out for us when it comes to the others… that’s how Anti found today’s guest of honor.”

Something cold and angry twists up Blue’s mouth.

“She was coming to hurt us. She’ll get what she deserves. Dok gave a man antibiotics for bronchitis last week, and this morning one of his sons comes running up the mountain to tell us there is a strange girl asking about a man with red hair… Anti scooped her up quick enough after that. That’s what she gets for trying to fuck with my family. That Genesis girl. She was the one almost took Red away from us.”

He sighs and rubs at his face, cooling a little.

“But you’re right… We’re not the only magic things in this city anymore. That’s made it a little harder on us lately. Anti seems so paranoid and Red is…”

Blue drifts off, stirring through the rice for no apparent reason. His gaze is obsessed with it. The circles under his eyes are very dark.

“Something has to change soon,” he mumbles. “We can’t keep living like this.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey! Red, what happened, duder?? It's been awhile!

The crying cuts off abruptly as the camera beeps back to life in Red and Blue’s room.

Red blinks at you from over his shoulder for a second before turning back to face the wall again. He’s tucked up in the corner with his knees drawn to his chest and his head against the wall. He doesn’t answer you.

A long thin chain snakes away from his body.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, what happened to your twin? Why's he all chained up?

Blue takes a long time to reply.

“Apparently Red was becoming too… what’s the word… carefree. Lax, too, lazy in his duties. Anti said he worries too much about what’s going on outside the house and not enough what happens inside. So Red is just… inside, for a while. He can move around. Just he has to stay here. And watch us. And watch everything. Pretty, um, strictly.”

Blue’s lip curls, staring down at his rice.

nikkilbook asked: We’re with you, Jackie. Even if he turns us off, even if he resets you and pushes you back into the darkness he made of you, we’ll be here. Doesn’t matter what he does. Doesn’t matter what he makes you do. We’re with you.

Red stops staring down at the laptop at his feet and turns his head slightly back towards you. His face is slightly bitter and absent of anything else, until maybe a moment of regret makes his mouth soften.

The door in the clinic bangs open and Red turns his head towards the noise, pulling himself slowly to his feet and coming to stand in the doorway, where the door has been removed.

“Dap? You doing okay, sweetheart?” he hears Blue call, but Dapper comes zipping past Red’s room a moment later, ducking back into Anti’s. A moment later he emerges with a bone saw and a crowbar and zips back down the hall again - only to be stopped by a hand reaching out to snatch his collar.

Dapper freezes, stiff in Red’s grasp. Red regards him carefully, noting fresh blood on his shoes and the ends of his pants. His smaller body trembles with a nervous sort of adrenaline, making Dapper seem to buzz all over, staring up at Red.

Red sighs and releases him, pushing him away. Relieved, Dapper staggers forward again and darts back out the door without a word to Blue, leaving blood-stained footprints in his wake.

“Fuck,” cries Blue, slamming his plate down on the kitchen counter. “He’s using him like a little torturer and he gets so shaken up! He’s not doing well getting back on his medicine and this isn’t going to help. Red, tell Anti to let Dapper go, can’t he handle it on his own?”

Red rolls his eyes and turns away, heading back into his room.

Blue hisses and turns away, tears sparking in his eyes. “If you won’t say something, I will!”

And this was the wrong thing to say.

Red reappears in the hallway, his eyes dark. He steps slowly towards Blue. His twin, realizing his mistake, falls deathly silent, sinking back against the counter, until Red is standing nearly chest-to-chest with him, staring down.

Blue swallows, looking anywhere but at Blue.

“Don’t,” whispers Red. “Bother your master.”

Blue chews on his lip, his eyes flashing.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, Red.”

Red pauses just a second longer before turning to limp back towards his room, that chain heavy around his ankle. Blue swallows again and again, blinking rapidly.

cest-mellow asked: red? are you okay? are you hurt?

Red pauses to stare at you. From an angle right above him, you can see a horrible exhaustion in his face, like something is eating him from the inside out, but his face is so taut and angry.

“I m-made lunch if you want some,” whispers Blue from the kitchen.

Red glances back at him, then at you.

“No,” he mumbles, retreating into his room again. “I’m fine.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What's gotten into you, man? Y'all were buddy buddy again.

You hear Red’s breathing start to get heavy again. He sits down in his corner and pulls his blanket over his shoulder, shaking.

“That was kind of the problem,” he croaks, turned away from you.

Anonymous asked: where's dok and trick?

“Ah!” Blue claps his hands together, relieved just to think about the two of them. At least the younger twins are keeping it together, mostly. “They are just down the hill a little ways, helping with a birth! Could be gone for hours or could be back soon, but, uh, I can still hear screaming, so I’d give it a while. They… probably didn’t bring a camera to that, haha. It’s good for Dok to be able to help people and for Trick to get out of the house. I convinced Anti and Red to let them go.” He sighs out a breath of relief, sitting down at the table and picking up somebody’s t-shirt, spreading it out across the wood. “It’s good to know I do at least have some of my caretaker privileges intact.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How are you holding up, Blue? Are you and Jackie still close?

Blue straightens out the shirt for much too long before he finally moves to get a needle, avoiding the gaze of the camera.

“It’s still my job to look after Red,” he whispers.

And then, even softer:

“I’ll always love him.”

cest-mellow asked: red, do you feel guilty for having to treat your brothers this way? even if it’s anti making you do it?

Red slams his hand against the ground, nearly wheezing. “I’m just doing what I have to!” he screeches, making Blue flinch hard in the other room. “Why don’t any of you ever understand? This is all my fault! None of this would have happened if I had done what I was supposed to in the first place! If I could keep everything in order Anti wouldn’t have to be so stressed and angry and then nobody else would have to be so sad all the time and Trick wouldn’t try to hurt himself and Blue wouldn’t get that look in his eyes like everything’s wrong! I have to keep everyone in line because it’s worse if I don’t! And Anti’s right, they do such stupid shit if nobody makes them stop!”

Red clutches at his hair, rocking himself back and forth. “And, fuck, the way that Anti looks at Blue and Doktor lately, like he hates them as much as he hates me! Like he’s fucking hungry… Stupid, stupid, stupid! I can’t keep anybody safe! I just did what he told me! I didn’t mean for anybody to get hurt! I didn’t want anybody to die, I don’t want them to get hurt anymore! I have to do this, I have to do this, I have to be good, get it together, get it together, get it together…”

Anonymous asked: We’re so sorry, Blue. Is there anything we can do? Has...has Anti punished you in any way for the shed incident?

“Mmh,” groans Blue, trying to ignore Red’s shouting in the other room. “No. Red took all the punishment for us… and now he doesn’t even look at us like he knows us. So I guess that’s my punishment. Ugh… there’s nothing anybody can do.”

He pauses, darning up the t-shirt with hands that shake very badly. In fact, now that you look at them, his fingers are terribly stiff, and the skin of his hands an irregular red, with white, flaking patches. He pauses to itch at them, trying not to think about it.

nikkilbook asked: I don’t blame you, Jackie.

“Mmmmh.” Shuddering, Red curls in on himself. “It was my hands. He didn’t even have to threaten the others… I just wanted to be good for him and make everyone stop hunting us… we’re always just being hunted and hunted and hunted… I just wanted it to stop…”

Pixie-in-trebleland asked: What's going on with your hands, hun? The lack of magic use getting to you?? Anonymous asked: What happened to your hands, blue? Did Anti do something or is your magic hurting them?

Blue laughs nervously. “My hands? Nothing. A rash, probably. I’ll ask Dok sometime. It’s all fine.”

But you’ve brought his attention to them and he cringes, trying to stop scratching. After a moment his fingers suddenly curl up into tight, shaking fists, and he gasps, arching his body around his own hands, his teeth gritted tight and his face taut with pain.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he groans, suddenly whiter. His veins are extraordinarily blue. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

His fingers relax again and he tries to return to his darning, shaken.

nikkilbook asked: Seems to me there’s a difference between it being your hands and being your choice. Just because he didn’t wear your skin or threaten your brothers doesn’t mean it wasn’t him holding the strings.

“It’s easy to justify things if you really want to,” says Red softly, turning away from you again.

cest-mellow asked: red, i’m sorry. i’m sorry. everything is gonna be okay. you don’t deserve this, none of you do. you’re a good brother, a wonderful brother, no matter what anti tells you. you’re so so wonderful.

Red laughs aloud, burying his face in his knees, drawn up to his chest.

“You know what he told me?” he whispers. “He doesn’t even think of me as his brother. Just… just his Red. Just a protector. Maybe if I’m good he’ll want me again.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe find a balance, Red. Still be your warm ol' self, while keeping them in place.

Red doesn’t answer, running his hands through his hair.

cest-mellow asked: something has to change here, blue. anti isnt rigjt, you know this. i know you love him and want him to be happy but.. look at what he’s doing. making red go insane. using dapper as a torture machine, treating dok like he’s less than dirt, making trick feel worse and worse everyday. he’s hurting you, he’s hurting your brothers. if you all work together you can stop this.

Blue lets out a low, frightened breath through his teeth. “Sh, please, careful, Red will notice. He has that laptop now, he can see what he chooses to. And I, uh - I love Anti very much and I know that things will start looking up soon if we’re all good. So… that’s that, yep.”

He’s interrupted by the door opening and two sopping wet brothers appearing in the doorway, calling greetings. You watch Blue’s whole figure melt with relief, and he leaps to his feet to join Trick and Doktor at the door, immediately fussing over them.

“Why are you two idiots so wet? Oh, your poor coat, Dok, and it’s still pink! Ugh, you both smell, you need nice cold showers in this awful heat.”

Trick and Dok are in good spirits. “We got hosed down,” Dok explains with a grin. “To get the blood and afterbirth off.”

“Well, it didn’t work great, I have to tell you. Did it go okay?”

“It was great!” Trick claps his hands together. “Blue, Blue, you have to see the baby!” He looks like he might cry. “She was so, so, so beautiful.”

“Healthy little thing, shockingly healthy,” nods Dok.

“And look what they gave us!” cheers Trick, and presents Blue loyally with a big cardboard box full of eggs, bright yellow sodas, baked sugar buns, and, lo and behold, a whole skinned chicken.

Blue gains some color back in his cheeks, eagerly taking the box from Trick and setting it on the counter, running his hands almost reverently over the food. He didn’t know how he was going to handle explaining to them that they had run out of everything but brown rice. Handling buying groceries for everyone is not as easy as Red usually makes it look.

“You did so well,” he praises them brightly, and Trick and Dok both smile back at him, looking healthy and proud. “You’re both so talented. Look at all this, oh - I’ll cook you something to go with the rice. You go get your showers. There should be soap, still, isn’t there?”

“There is, Blue, there is.”

“Oh, good, good… Okay, yes. Ah! You’re both so dear to me. Look how well you did. Oh, you both worked for so long. I’ll get some food in you and we’ll get your clothes all washed. My excellent little brothers. Everything’s well.”

Trick and Dok welcome his praising with only one quick, concerned look between the two of them - Blue seems to get a little more assertive in his affection every day, like he’s scared they don’t know he loves them.

bupine asked: hey blue, you ok? you should see doktor about your hands if you can, it seems like they're hurting you

Dok pauses before following Trick back to their room, frowning. “What’s this about your hands?”

Blue turns away quickly, lathering them in soap to avoid their gaze. “Oh, it’s nothing, buddy, don’t worry about it. You can go get your shower.”

“Come on, Blue, you can tell me.”

“Dok, it’s really nothing, I think they’re just dry. Air’s so dry up here.”

“What? The ocean is within miles. Just show me, come now.”

“Please, Dok, you - ” Blue cuts himself off with a gasp and then Dok is yelping as someone grabs him by the hair and drags him back towards his own room.

“What did you do wrong?” asks Red flatly, standing him straight in the doorway.

“I - ow, ow, Red! I don’t - I was just - I’m supposed to look after him!”

“Oh? You’re supposed to look after him? Are you Blue’s big brother?”“

Shit! Doktor realizes his mistake. “N-no, I’m younger - ”

“So?”

“So I shouldn’t have - ah, Red! - I should have obeyed him!”

“Instead of?”

“Instead of - um - telling him to show me his hands!”

Dok is released. Trick rushes forward to grab his shoulders.

Red turns away and retreats to his room without another word, hair falling from his fingers.

Blue stands in the kitchen, mouth open and reddened hands outstretched. Trick and Dok scurry to the bathroom, holding onto each other like otters trying not to get separated as the night wears on.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, I understand your fears. But... you're going to end up pushing them all away if you keep carrying on like this.

“I know,” says Red, very quickly and very softly.

“I know I will. But maybe they’ll be a little safer. I can’t be their brother anymore. I have to be the dog in charge. And the dog in charge has to bite. Anyway, Dok knows the rules. Once I remind him a few times he’ll know and it will be easier.”

He hides his hands against his chest, curling in on himself.

“I’ve always been willing to starve to see them eat,” he mumbles. “But this is like I’m giving up my soul. The worst part is, the more I do it, the more I really feel like I want to hurt them. I think I’ll be gone very soon.”

Shrieking starts up from outside his boarded up window and he startles, looking up. He wishes he could be helping Anti instead of spoiled little Dapper…

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is Anti's love more important than the others?

“Fuck!” hisses Red, shaking his head at you, despairing. “Fuck, why do none of you never understand anything, anything, anything! You think this is about love… haven’t you ever had to survive anything…”

Anonymous asked: Red, this can't go on much longer. The people around you, the people in town, those new parents, that brand new baby - they all have lives, freedom. Yes, they might be poor, it might be hard for them, but they don't have to live in fear. They don't have to hurt the ones they love. They do not have an Anti, and you don't need one, either. It's time to go. Please, Jackie. It's time to go.

“I know you see a difference between Anti and the others,” whispers Red. “Because he can be cruel and he leads us. But Anti’s not separate from them to me, except that he’s my master as well as my little brother. I couldn’t leave him behind. Him, me, Dapper, even Trick and Dok, we’ve all done horrible things. Fuck, just a few days ago, I… I…”

He drifts off again, sighing. “Anti just gets excited about it because that’s how he was made. I don’t care what it looks like to anybody else. He’s my family. I’ll always try to protect him. He doesn’t have to return the feeling.”

He rubs at his head like it’s hurting him and gets to his feet. Maybe he’ll go see if he can spy what’s going on in the shed from the backdoor. He wonders if that girl who tried to kidnap him is dead already, or if Anti is still having Dapper carve the information out of her.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, she can help you! I know you're angry for what she did, but I'm begging you, just give her a chance. We can't all be wrong.

Red blinks and then his gaze turns angry as he backs away from the door, chained inside the house. “Her? That Genesis girl? She tried to take me away! She chained me down and hit me! She could have killed me or I might have never seen the others again!”

His breathing is picking up again, his hand over his heart.

“If she tries to fucking ‘help me,’ I’ll kill her like I should have in that alleyway! I hope Anti’s ripped her to shreds already.”

You might be barking up the wrong tree.

Anonymous asked: Okay. Then Blue. You know magic. You know Genesis could help you. Do it for your brother.

“Help me with what?” frowns Blue. “She’s going to make Anti less grumpy? She’s going to hide us better so we can live in peace for once? She’s the one trying to find us, remember? Or those… people she works with.”

He frowns deeper still, rubbing at his hands. “Strange, I feel almost like I recognized those symbols they wear on their wrists… but I never can remember…”

Sighing, Blue turns his gaze back to you. “What, you guys really believe she’s somehow okay after what she did to Red? Do you even know anything about this stranger who’s been hunting us?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Do you see anything wrong with how you guys are being treated, Red? Cause I think that is the problem she's seeing

“I think it sucks ass that we always have to be running! And I know that Trick shouldn’t be hurting himself, but we’re doing our best cause we can’t go to the hospital or a professional or something! And I know there was that stress with Dapper’s meds, but Dok is working on it.”

Red runs his hands over his face and sighs deeply.

“Look, I know we’re poor or whatever, and cut off from the whole world, but we do what we can. That doesn’t mean we need saving, especially not a version of salvation that involves dragging me away and killing all of my brothers with magic. Did you hear the way they talked about me just because they smelled magic on me? They think Blue and Dap and Anti are demons or something!”

He shivers and rubs his shoulders. “They could really hurt them. I - oh!”

He startles as the door of the shed opens and Anti emerges, towelling blood off his hands. Red sinks away from the door, avoiding his master’s eye.

Anti is panting a little, glitching passionately. He chucks the towel at Red and claps a hand on his shoulder, pausing to rest.

“Tell Trick to guard the shed tonight,” he says. “And keep an eye on the camera. She’s dangerous. And if she gets out, there will be hell to pay.”

“Yes, Anti,” Red promises stiffly.

“Um, Anti,” calls Blue anxiously. “Dapper can come in now?”

Anti pauses for a moment, regarding him. There is something dark and impatient in his eyes, but he moves on.

“He’ll be along in a minute. He’s doing that weird thing with the ghosts again. Tell Dok to hurry up and fix him. I’m going to go clean up.”

Panicked, Blue puts aside the lunch he’s making and darts towards the door as Anti retreats down the hall, only to be snatched up at the last moment by a hand on the back of his collar.

“Don’t go out there,” Red warns. “You weren’t asked to guard or check. Anti said he would be along in a minute.”

Blue scowls and shakes him off, backing away with eyes full of tears. For a second, you think they might say something to each other.

Blue goes back to making his little brothers lunch. Red retreats to their room.

Anonymous asked: you're the caretaker, blue - you have to know that help can come from the strangest of places

Blue lets out a weak laugh. “I guess… I wouldn’t mind some help, lately. I miss… I miss…”

But he doesn’t know what it is he’s missing.

Anonymous asked: We know she didn't kill Red when she could have. We know her friend, Hermann, wanted to help Red, that he stopped the others from hurting him, and we know that he called Anti "demon." And we know that there is a better life away from Anti, but when someone holds out their hand, you need to take it. We know you love Anti, but he is hurting your brothers. Take her hand, at least try.

Blue pauses, turning a leg of chicken slowly.

“I… didn’t know all that. Maybe… but fuck, you all sound just like them… Anti’s not a fucking demon, he’s just something magical. He’s a lot like me, you know, just a different brand of sorcerer. Anyway, I’m sorry, but there’s no hand to take right now. She’s Anti’s prisoner, now. I don’t expect there’s much help for her at this point. For all I know, she’s dead already.”

Anonymous asked: How is Noodle the cat?

Trick is shaving Dok’s beard over the sink in their bathroom, but he stops halfway through to clap his hands together, delighted. “Great! So good, I love him more than Dok.”

“Hey!”

“Haha, just kidding. Behold! My kitten!”

Trick scoops his cat off the bed and presents him proudly to you.

“Mrr?” complains Noodle, stretching his little golden body in Trick’s hands. He’s already a little bigger than he was when you last saw him.

“He’s a very friendly cat,” says Dok, frowning at his halfway-shaved beard in the mirror.

“Yes, yes, yes, the best baby.” Trick smothers him in kisses and sets him on his shoulder, where Noodle is content to crawl back and forth, mewling and pushing his head against Trick’s face, asking for scratches. “He’s so good. He’s sooo good.”

Anonymous asked: alright, Caretaker. then I guess you'll never know if you could have helped your brothers.

Blue’s gaze has gone flat.

“What would you even have me do?” he asks, voice raw. “What would the point of any of it be? What can I even do about any of this?”

Anonymous asked: a poem for you, blue!! i wrote this a long time ago, don't judge, a friend told me you liked poetry :) It goes: The man who holds tight to the chain / of many fearsome hounds / must let go when the strongest pulls / or be dragged along the ground.

Blue’s face lights up. “Oh, I do! ‘The man who holds tight to the chain - ‘”

Immediately, a bright blue light is burning on his hands. He gasps and recoils, drawing them, shaking to his stomach, gritting down his teeth on a scream. No, no, no, no magic, he can’t, he has to hold on to it!

It takes him a long time to straighten up again. His face has lost all color and strands of sweaty blue hair tumble into his exhausted eyes.

“Sorry,” he coughs. “I’m not… feeling so well lately. I like your poem, though. Your structuring is very good. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: You can try, Blue. It's all anyone can do.

“Try what?” He glances over at Red standing in the doorway. “It would be really hard to sneak out… you’d have to help me and I - oh! Dap-Dap!”

He drops his spoon and darts to Red’s side, once again held back by a hand on his collar. He growls dangerously, an odd color lighting up in his hands, but doesn’t struggle for now, calling for Dap to come back to the house.

“Dapper! Honey, come over here! My poor little brother, baby, come here!”

Dapper is standing out by the shed, looking stiff as a mannequin. He stares blankly at the house, his arms held out before him, soaked in blood. His face is very blank and he doesn’t answer Blue.

“Let me go!” shrieks Blue, tugging against Red’s grip. “He’s upset, look at him!”

Red sighs. “Would you calm down? He does this a lot.”

Blue lets out a furious cry, turning to punch his chest, startling Red but not causing him to let go. “Look what you and Anti are doing to my baby brother!” he shouts, tears rising in his eyes and color burning in his hands. He groans and clutches his fists together, furious. “He does this a lot? No, he doesn’t, not unless he’s sick or scared or being made to do horrible things!”

Red’s breathing fast. He shoves Blue out into the dirt. “Go get him and bring him back,” he snaps. “Before you get the beating you’re asking for.”

“I hate that you’re acting like this!” screams Blue, backing out of his reach. Red’s chain binds him tight to the house. “Why are you letting this happen?”

“Shut up, Blue,” snaps Red, whirling on him and returning to his room. He reaches out to slam the door before remembering Anti took it off. Distraught, humiliated, he crashes into his bed instead of his corner this time and draws his blankets over his head, hiding.

Blue lets him go and darts out towards Dapper to get his little brother back into the house. Dapper lets himself be lead, his face empty and his eyes wide and unfocused.

“Feeling okay, Dapper?” asks Blue, pulling him snugly to his chest, ignoring the blood that soaks into his shirt. He’ll clean it out later. “What happened, my darling? Did that magician girl upset you?”

Dapper just leans slightly into his chest, shaking.

Anonymous asked: Red, there had to be a better way to go about this. Trying to lead by fear will get you nowhere. Please, don’t turn to this, they rely so much on you for guidance as a big brother, not a master. They already have one of those, they don’t need another.

“This is what Anti told me to do,” he mumbles, holding himself. “This is what I have to do. This is what I can do to make it easier on them. Better I hit them than Anti…”

For a long time, he lies in silence. He’s tired to the core of his being. He didn’t know you could be so tired it hurts this badly.

And then, to your surprise, he asks you for a favor.

“Will you wake me up again if I fall asleep?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Sure then, Red....but just remember that, at the end of the day, there are a whack load of brothers that have your back, love you, and wouldn't treat you like a dog.

Red sighs, long and low. He doesn’t know how to… ah, he’s never been good at talking about shit. Blue always seemed to understand anyway…

Anonymous asked: No??? red, you need to sleep!

He clutches his hair and sinks in on himself, hugging his shoulders. Slowly, he shakes his head back and forth, exhausted.

Anonymous asked: jeez, where's Anti? lurking around and whining about his daddy issues as usual?

You hear shouting from his room, behind the only door left in the house.

“I was just fucking out there, you insufferable little brats. Sorry I didn’t give everybody fucking kisses and ice cream! What the fuck do you idiots expect from me? Are your heads so full of air that you can’t for one second get your brain out of your asses - ”

You might want to turn your attention back to other cameras.

“Motherfucking sons of bitches - !”

Anonymous asked: Wait a minute, who is he yelling at? Us? Where’s Chase and Dok?

Dok and Trick perk up on their bed, exchanging looks. “We’re in our rooms! Wasn’t yelling at us. Right?”

“Right…” Dok pauses. “Probably…”

“Must have been yelling at you, dudes.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, buddy, can you hear us? Are you alright, love?

Blue brushes at Dapper’s hair, hoping he’ll answer you, but he just sinks father down against Blue’s body and closes his big blue eyes. Blue squishes him close and kisses his hair, feeling blood squealch beneath his fingers. He shudders.

“Dok!” he calls. “Dok, Trick! I think he just got shocked from all the blood. He gets so strange with chores like that! Sometimes he gets really, really over-excited, and he’ll come home from chores shaking so hard and grinning like a madman - or he comes hope just sobbing and sobbing while Anti drags him along by his hair - or he’s a simpering little puppy, and all he wants is somebody to hold on him - ”

“Or he clams up,” finishes Trick wearily, appearing in the room and taking one look at his brother.

“All this fucking blood!” hisses Dok, darting forward to pull Dap from Blue so he can get a look at him. Dap stares sadly up at him as he runs his hands over his head and his torso, looking for wounds.

Anonymous asked: Bahaha Anti you salty bitch, what’s your problem?

Anti cracks open the door to his room just to glare at you for two and a quarter seconds and then slam it very loudly, which only makes Dap jump and burrow into Doktor’s chest in the kitchen.

Anonymous asked: Isn't there a camera in the shed...? Are we able to see that?

You flip through your cameras. Like Anti said, you have a view on the girl: Genesis, the sorcerer.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What happened, Dap?

“Yeah, what happened, buddy?” Trick leans forward to give Dap’s shoulder a good squeeze while Doktor wraps his arms around him, frowning. “Too much blood for one hour? Did that girl say anything about who sent her? There’s not more people going to be able to find us, right?”

“Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts.”

Doktor feels the word more than sees it and pushes Dapper back slightly to read. “What was that, Dap?”

But Dapper stares dead ahead in silence, his teeth chattering.

“Trick, what do you do to snap Doktor out of it when he gets all shell-shocked like this?”

Doktor blushes bright red and turns away from Trick and Blue, avoiding their eyes.

“Oh - we mostly just lie down in our room and I put a blanket on him and read or something and he comes back to himself eventually. If he gets violent I have to hold him down.”

“Trick,” croaks Doktor, humiliated.

“Bud, it’s just a shock thing, it’s okay…”

“I don’t like talking about it…”

“Okay, okay,” Blue cuts them off, taking back Dap. “Let’s just give him some peace and quiet, then.”

“He needs to get the blood off first,” Doktor advises sharply. “So unhygienic.”

“Alright. Let’s use your shower, come on.”

“That’s too many hands on one little guy,” Trick points out. “You and Dok look after him. I’ll finish lunch. Call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, Trick, I can finish it!”

“Blue, don’t be ridiculous, dude.”

Dok gives them both a warning look with a little hiss. Trick whitens.

“I mean, uh - whatever you say, big bro!”

Blue sighs. “No, okay. We’ll go look after him. Don’t tire yourself out, though, Trick, you’re on guard duty tonight.”

“Aw, damn! I mean - okay, that’s fine!”

cest-mellow asked: genesis? can you hear us..?

Genesis stares at you, directly across from where she sits.

There is, through her right hand, one beautiful golden dagger - Dapper’s Christmas present embedded in her palm.

Amber eyes survey you warily, her mouth taut and her eyes flashing. She leans forward in the chair she is tied to and levels you with a glare, clumps of short black hair closing in around her sharp face.

“I can see you,” she tells you. “I can see words. The talking cameras.”

Anonymous asked: Can we...talk to her? Is she okay? Well, I mean, is she alive?

Cuts litter her like stars the sky, including a delicate star carved perfectly into her cheek. Amidst the abuse, you eventually begin to distinguish heavy, deep gashes along the torso and legs from thin, patient cuts dancing across his fingers and face in pretty patterns. Burns adorn her throat like a witch’s collar.

She spits at you.

“Okay,” she laughs. “Fuck off, talking camera elves…”

She has a heavy accent, but speaks clearly.

Anonymous asked: Did dapper give you that?

“Dapper, I don’t know that. What’s dapper?”

Anonymous asked: Oh! Ma’am, can you see us? We’re here to help as much as we’re able too.

“Oh, the elves are here to help, uh-huh. The elves expect me to believe they don’t work for the little motherfucker in the vest.”

immabethehero asked: How did you get here, Genesis?

“Oh, what, you don’t know, now? Huh? I saw the cameras in the streets and the shitty old bars, but I didn’t think they would be full of spies. So you told the demon I was coming, huh? Mean little camera elves. Little fuckers.”

She spits again, a sudden tremble consuming her body as the blood loss begins to hurt her.

“Haha, it stings… I was trying to find the demon who stabbed Hermann and made the man in the red hood his little slave. I cast spells all over the city, but, see, only in the mountain did I find magic I did not recognize… I know all the other sorcerers in the city, but there’s some kind of power up here, so I thought, it must be the demon. But he knew I was coming… I didn’t even tell Emmanuela that I was going…”

Anonymous asked: Hey, I mean, that’s understandable. That little motherfucker in the vest is dapper

“Dapper little motherfucker,” she says, rubbing her aching cheek against her shoulder, pulling against her ropes. “What sort of a demon calls itself Dapper? Sounds like a silly boy name. You’re making fun of me?”

Anonymous asked: dapper is the one with the moustache, but that's not his real name. we're on your side, here.

“Oh? He doesn’t use his real name? Dapper means something? If you’re really on my side, you should tell me his real name so I can curse him better.”

immabethehero asked: The demon in question is Anti. He's kidnapped and brainwashed a whole bunch of guys. The one in the vest is called Dapper, but his real name is Jameson.

“Oh, Jameson, huh? Pretty. I’ll fill his throat with razor blades once I get out of these goddamn ropes!”

She lets out a raw scream and tugs harder against them, disturbing a deep wound in her shoulder and hissing as blood comes flowing down. For the first time, she shows a flash of fear, hyperventilating for a second before she remembers herself and stays together.

Anonymous asked: his real name is Jameson Jackson, but Anti erased a lot of his (and the other boys’) memories about their past and their real names, so he might not respond to that name. You’re the magic expert here, thought.

“Tell me everything about this Jameson Jackson. Why does he keep the other men his prisoners? Why doesn’t he talk? Why does he have a mustache like a Frenchman from the 1930s? I’ll shave it off him. Fucker, little motherfucker.”

She pauses, trying to think of more English curse words.

“Dick,” she finishes confidently, nodding at you and flicking her hair out of her face.

Anonymous asked: Alright, let’s all chill out okay? We’re not here to patronize you. Dapper isn’t the demon. It’s Anti, the one that was most likely with him. And you must have pissed him off pretty bad too, which is great.

“Oh, oh, I piss him off? Here, tell him this, tell him he has pissed me off, and I will make him regret it, because I expect he will not like to have this chair shoved down his throat! Like I started this, huh? He’s the one stabbed my stupid idiot friend! And I love my stupid idiot friend! Motherfucker to the max!”

She rocks her chair and nearly tips over, giving a little shriek. After this, she needs a moment to recover, and sighs deeply, looking back at you.

“Okay, fine, but I think you understand why I am not ‘chill.’”

Anonymous asked: Jameson is mute. He dresses like he’s from the early 1900s, because he is. He can change the course of time with his abilities, so if something happens that he or Anti doesn’t like, it can be adjusted. And I’d advise you not to hurt him unless absolutely necessary out of defense, because you will absolutely be killed.

Genesis frowns, chewing on her lip, trying to distinguish between truths and lies.

“A very old demon, then… I will be careful… which I guess would have been a good note for before I came looking, but the Old Man says thinking ahead is not my strong suit. Or even a suit I fit into at all.”

Anonymous asked: Oh yeah, you’re totally right. But you also beat the shit out of our stupid idiot too so..we even? Can we talk now? Camera to woman, woman to camera?

“Hmmm.” She narrows her amber eyes at you. “Little camera elves… okay, yeah, we’re talking, aren’t we? Tell me who you are.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, Blue? What's happening?

“We’re just getting cleaned up,” Blue answers in a warm, soothing voice. “We’re doing just fine, just fine.”

You find him in the bathroom with Dap, getting himself soaked by holding Dapper up in the shower. They’ve stripped their little brother down to his boxers and Blue is running shampoo through his hair, massaging his scalp and turning the water around the drain a fine pink. Dok enters the bathroom with his first aid kit and Noodle in one hand, making Dap light up just a little.

Anonymous asked: You’re a good man Trick

Trick turns to give you a full and beautiful smile.

“Thank you,” he chirps, loading chicken and rice onto plates.

Anonymous asked: They’re telling you to listen to the woman, let her go. If you did then both Red and Trick would pay for it. Maybe instead you should try and learn something from her that you could use to save your family, Blue.

Blue washes Dapper’s face gently, deep in thought.

“Fuck, I wish I could know more about that girl,” he whispers. “Something about those people… I wish I could remember anything…”

He sighs, rubbing Dapper’s shoulders with the washcloth. “But it might be easier for you to talk to her than me.”

A moment passes and you expect him to be done, but then, just loud enough for you:

“I’m sorry I’m not of more use in this… please take care of my brothers in any way you can. My hands are so tightly bound…”

Anonymous asked: Don't worry, we want to help. We heard about your friend, Hermann. We're so sorry that he was hurt. What happened to him?

Genesis sinks slightly in on herself, her mouth falling.

“Mh, you’re sorry?”

She glares bitterly up at you for a second, but then she turns her gaze away, softening. It’s not you she’s mad at, in the end.

“He was very bad for a long time. What a miserable Christmas… he’s alive, still. He was asleep for so long. I hate seeing him like this. It’s like all the energy - zap, gone. And Hermann’s so stupid, you know, so he’s usually all full of energy. He’s like a dog that’s really excited to see you. Even if you’re like, okay, dog, you’re kind of annoying at first! Eventually the dog grows on you. And then the dumbass thing gets himself stabbed, and makes Christmas so shitty.”

She stares down at the floor, her lip trembling a little.

“He would notice that I’ve been gone… but probably Emmanuela and the Old Man will not.”

She pauses, alarmed, and sits up straight to glare at you again. “Don’t tell that stupid demon that, you little camera elves! You better not be lying about anything!”

Anonymous asked: Genesis, one of the boys, (Blue, former magician, great guy) feels like he recognizes a symbol on your wrist What is it? Did it mean anything?

Genesis stiffens, her eyes narrowing darkly. Her gaze flickers down to the band on her wrist - a leather strap with a raven etched into it, its beak open and its eye shaped like a jewel.

“It’s… nothing.” Her lips curls at you. “Just… a club. You don’t need to know!”

Anonymous asked: Hey, any go ahead from you is enough alright? Take care of the others and we’ll see what we can do

Blue looks relieved. He gives you a very shaky little smile.

“Okay… I can try to do that much.”

He’s never felt fonder of you.

florenceisfalling asked: woah, yeesh, we don't like the demon any more than you do.

“Oh.” She pauses, blinking at you. “No? You think so too? Motherfucker to the max?”

She puffs to get some of her hair out of her face. “Cut my goddamn ponytail out… you don’t work for him?”

Anonymous asked: genesis, four of them have powers, so it's unlikely you'll have an easy time getting out of this. please be careful, for your own sake, and theirs. the guys under anti's control will suffer if you fuck it up.

“Four of them have powers! Goddamn, goddamn! This sucks on ass! Damn! Well, I can take them!” She pauses, glancing around. “Really, I just need this knife out of my hand… then I could go home in a snap. Okay, four guys under the demon’s control?”

Anonymous asked: It's not the vest you should worry about - he's Dapper, by the way. Anti is the real problem here. We think we can help you, but can you tell us who you are?

She pauses, frowning. “But… the one in the vest came to find the one in the sweatshirt. He’s the one who stabbed Hermann.”

She blows air up onto her own face, miserably hot. “Oh, I’m cooking in this goddamn sun! This little garage is all metal! Who I am? My name is Genesis. You name just about any country on this continent and I’ve lived there. For work, I copy books in a library and stop catastrophes. What else you want, huh? I’m a Scorpio, okay? I have twenty-four years.”

Anonymous asked: Five, technically. He has no powers, just a gun and a kitten. Hell be out guarding you tonight. Maybe try talking to him later?

Genesis’s eyes light up, thinking. “So, okay. One of the little prisoners. A gun and a kitten? Tell me everything about him. Maybe I can convince him to let me go? Do you think?”

Anonymous asked: five total people under his control. dapper and blue have magic, but i don't think blue is allowed to use his. the others are normal. none of them are evil, just trapped with the demon.

“Five! Five, what sort of a monster! This shit must be why Hermann was so desperate to get involved! He kept talking about the twin gringos in the market, he was sure they were involved in something awful. Well, I hate to say it, but I guess he was right. Don’t tell him I said that. Shit, shit! He’s going to want to save them, isn’t he?”

She sighs out a deep breath.

“Okay, two magic boys, none of them are evil… according to you… how do you know none of them are evil? Tell me all about them.”

Anonymous asked: dapper isn't the demon, please don't try to mess with him - he's a victim, too. they all are, except the one who always glitches.

“Hmm.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Why can’t they both be demons, huh? I can smell the power on them and they look like brothers.”

nikkilbook asked: Have you seen the other one? The one that can change his shape and control the others?

“I saw the one in the vest and the one with two different colors of eyes.”

florenceisfalling asked: they're not evil because they don't choose to hurt anyone. they're a family, they used to have normal lives, jobs, and kids. they try their best to take care of each other and be kind, but they're super brainwashed. only one of them is a demon - there's power on dapper, but he's just a time traveler. he doesn't have any other powers that we know of.

Genesis stares down at the ground for a long time. She’s beginning to wear down. Dapper’s star bleeds gently down her cheek.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Lots of bad people have families. Lots of bad people have normal lives. Or even if they were good once… don’t you think, sometimes, when enough bad things happen to you, part of you just… becomes… bad too?”

She looks up at you, her eyes dark. “Listen,” she says. “I’m sorry. But I’ll do what I have to to get out of here. I hope you understand that.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, did you used to belong to a club of some kind?

Blue washes the sticky blood out of Dapper’s hands, cleaning each finger. “A club? I don’t know. I don’t remember much before Anti. Figments is all. Luckily that stuff wasn’t important.”

Dapper sniffles, rubbing at his face wearily. Blue beams at him, trying to encourage him to move.

“How we doing now, sweetie?”

“Ghosts,” mumble Dapper’s hands. “Ghosts.”

“I know, buddy. I know.”

“Not reacting well to anything,” murmurs Dok, a hand on Blue’s shoulder. And then, louder, “Here, Dap, have some water.”

nikkilbook asked: Red, will something bad happen if you fall asleep?

Red is lying like he’s already asleep in his bed, his hair mussed all over the place and his eyes dull, but stubbornly still slitted open. Eventually he shivers and looks away from you, breathing deep.

“No,” he mumbles. “I’m just being a baby.”

bupine asked: red, it's ok for you to sleep. i'm sure nothing too bad can happen in a few hours :D unless anti told you you couldn't?

“No, I can, I can,” whimpers Red, clutching at his hair. “No, nothing bad will happen, nothing… just feels like it… don’t… you don’t have to watch over me…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Someone needs to watch over you, Red. You aren't completely alone in this.

“Please,” snorts Red. “Like I want anybody to see me like this. Like Blue doesn’t have enough to deal with now that I can’t even… now that I can’t even…”

He trails off, his mouth very tight. The chain around his ankle drags loudly as he readjusts.

bupine asked: we're just trying to see if you're ok, red. you haven't been yourself lately, everything in the house seems so much more strained. how long has dapper been hurting that woman, do u know? he's so shaken up and keeps talking about seeing ghosts

“Fuck, damn,” Red hisses, covering his face. “Anti will be so angry… Dok can’t seem to find the right stuff to level him out again after his medicine was messed up. He’s super clingy and shaky. Anti will be so angry… I’m worried it’s not just hallucinations… fuck.

“We just found that woman this morning, though. I think Anti is trying to find out where she comes from and how he can find the other person. He’s still angry someone tried to steal me away.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Do you have any suspicions as to why they would have taken you, Red?

Red cringes, his mouth beginning to tremble.

“They think Anti or Dapper or Blue is some sort of demon… and I bet they think I’m bad too for fighting that man… and if they get their hands on me again they’ll probably…”

He clutches at his shoulders, curling in on himself, his teeth gritted very tight in his mouth.

“This is almost as bad as being asleep,” he groans, rubbing his face back and forth against his mattress.

Anonymous asked: Is he alright?

Blue helps a trembling Dapper back to his feet, fetching him a towel as he steps out of the shower, though all he does is pull it around his shoulders like a blanket and hide from you. Blue adjusts accordingly, getting a second towel to start drying him off himself.

“Yeah, we’re okay, aren’t we, bud?” soothes Blue.

Dap doesn’t answer. His face is twitching.

“Aren’t we, Dok?” asks Blue, turning to him.

Dok gives him a worried glance, biting down on his lip.

Blue hisses out a curse under his breath even as he turns to offer Dapper a big warm smile, toweling his hair playfully. “Something has to change,” you hear him whisper to Dok. “This environment is too much stress for him.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dok? Do you have anything to help Red sleep? He'd super on edge..

Dok pales a little, turning his eyes from you. “Trust me, Red doesn’t want anything from me. Nothing I can do about it.”

“He won’t sleep hardly at all,” whispers Blue.

“Maybe you could try giving him some melatonin.”

“He wakes up screaming every time.”

“I know, we hear him across the house. I don’t know why Anti doesn’t - ”

“Shhh, Dok, sh, careful…”

They fall silent again. Whistling reaches them as Trick comes down the hallway with chicken and rice and bright yellow sodas piled up in his arms.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Do any of you boys want to keep Red company? Maybe he needs a friend.

Dok shakes his head vigorously, and Trick nods along with his twin almost without thinking about it, setting up a late lunch in their room.

“Don’t ask us,” Dok tells you emphatically, putting a hand over his aching skull. “Most of the time he won’t even have Blue.”

Blue’s mouth has gone very thin. He glances back towards his and Red’s room again and again, but he doesn’t go to him. He’s been yelled at enough for today.

“Why’s J - happy - sad?” asks Dap, snuffling and shivering in his towel.

Dok and Blue frown and exchange looks.

“What was that sign, honey?”

“J - happy. Why sad?”

Dok blinks. Blue chews on his lip, shaking his head.

Dapper frowns at the two of them, blinking his eyes, confused.

Anonymous asked: i think he means red.

“Do you mean Red, buddy?” asks Dok, pulling him into their room.

“Red?”

Dok sighs and sits him down. Blue watches from the doorway, his eyes flickering nervously from Dapper to Red’s room.

bupine asked: j-happy? could be a personal sign dapper made up for red. he's seemingly a bit delirious right now, he's maybe not thinking right and forgot red's name?

“You know Dapper has his confused days,” Trick points out, already popping a bite of chicken in his mouth. “Remember that time he thought somebody had kidnapped him?”

Dapper frowns down at the ground, blinking slowly.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap, do you remember everyone's names?

“Who’s everyone?”

“Okay,” snaps Blue, shaking his head. “Enough talking about this. Eat your chicken, Dap-Dap. Look, your brothers even brought you fancy sodas. Yum, huh? Good to get some sugar in you.”

Anonymous asked: *whispers* do you mean jackie, dapper?

“Connection must be real buggy,” muses Trick, popping the cap off a soda. “Can barely make some of these out.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok? Is Dapper being this delirious normal?

Doktor glances nervously at the camera, reaching out to pet Dapper’s hair, uncharacteristically affection. You see him give a tiny headshake.

“Delusional, not delirious. But we just need to figure your medicine out,” he croaks, looking suddenly exhausted. “Wish we could just go back to the Haldol, huh, bud?”

Dapper tilts his head sorrowfully against his hand, looking up at him.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red? Why don't you let someone keep you company? At least until you fall asleep?

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs, turning his back on you. “You really think the others are supposed to see me like this?”

There’s a long pause.

“Anti… nearly stopped Blue from sleeping with me anymore… we don’t talk, during the night… he says he’ll muzzle me if I do…”

nikkilbook asked: Guys, please don’t do this to him. Not again. You’ve all got each other—he needs you, too. Remember kindness, please. Red needs you. Jackie needs you.

Trick curls his lip up, stabbing at his chicken and looking over at Dok, who only frowns back. Dapper stares between his brothers, frowning and waiting for someone to talk, but nobody does.

Blue won’t meet the camera’s gaze. His hands tremble too badly for him to hold his fork.

“Can’t help someone who won’t let you,” he tells you finally, in a voice like a white flag.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is there a way you could secretly get him back on the haldol?

“I tried putting him back on the Haldol,” Dok explains, his face falling. “But something about the Risperdal messed it up, and I had to wean him off that, and then I tried putting him back on the Haldol slow, but it wasn’t working, and he was having really bad hallucinations, so I tried something really strong, but he was having horrible dizziness, so he couldn’t even walk, so I had to take him off that slow, and now we’re trying something new - ”

“Dok, Dok.” Trick reaches out to grab his wrist and Doktor stops, burying his face in his hands. “Dude, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re going to figure it out.”

Doktor doesn’t answer. Dapper stares up at Blue, bewildered, but all Blue can do is pull him close and rub his shoulders, pressing their heads together.

reverseblackholeofwords asked: Red, you know we're watching out for you, and your brothers won't let anyone take you or hurt you. You're protected and loved, and I know it doesn't feel like that now. But you just have to remind yourself that it's true.

Exhausted, Red lies still against his mattress, blinking slowly at you as he tries not to fall asleep. But there’s something warm and reassuring about the message, and even if it feels like his brothers are a continent away, he tries to take some comfort in it as it swirls around his head again and again.

Protected and loved… fuck, what he wouldn’t give… hell, but he’s tired…

Anonymous asked: uhhh trick, is red still awake or sleeping?

Trick glances nervously over at you, but consents to your request and gets up to check. He slinks carefully to the door of his room and peers out and into Red’s, hiding slightly behind the door.

Red is curled up in silence, breathing deep and slow, his eyes closed.

“Looks like,” he whispers, drawing away again.

“Give it fifteen minutes on the screaming,” mumbles Dok, sipping his soda. There’s something very dark in his gaze.

“Really? I give him… an hour and a half!”

“What are we betting?”

“Boys,” snaps Blue, his face furious. Trick and Dok avert their gaze meekly, returning to each other’s sides. Trick puts his head down on Dok’s shoulder and hums, too pre-occupied by the fact that it makes Dok smile to notice Blue hiding his hands beneath his shirt, his face stark white.

Anonymous asked: Genesis, do you know the name Marvin?

Genesis is already shaking her head back and forth on the camera, trying to keep herself steady and awake. She breathes out slow breaths, losing color and draining blood.

“Marvin? Oh, no… I don’t know, I don’t think so…”

Anonymous asked: Say what you're thinking, Blue.

“I think these little hooligans know exactly what I mean,” grumbles Blue, making the twins shrivel beneath his gaze, guilty smiles on their mouths.

“Sorry, Blue,” says Trick with a winning grin. “We were just teasing.”

“Making fun of nightmares is not teasing, boys.”

Trick and Dok exchange looks with a cold note of apathy in them. Trick’s hand falls subconsciously to rest on a dark bruise on Doktor’s wrist.

Anonymous asked: Blue, seriously, you need to talk to someone about whatever it is that’s happening with your hands. Ignoring it will only make it worse and probably harder to fix. It’s okay to need help sometimes.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” cries Blue, clutching them together beneath his shirt, despite a blue light seeping through his clothes. Dok and Trick look up, alarmed. “I know the rules, I’m not trying to break them! It’s already my fault those people found us! I have to keep it under control!”

“Blue,” say Trick and Dok at the same time. Trick leans forward with his hands out-stretched, while Dok is already getting to his feet. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s nothing!”

“Show me,” demands Dok, kneeling down beside him and grabbing at his hands. “Show me, now.”

“Please, Dok - ”

But Dapper is up on his knees too, reaching out to help drag his hands away. Dok grits his teeth hard, glaring down at the injured fingers and palms.

Blue’s hands are redder than his twin’s hair and they tremble so hard it must be painful. Skin flakes off them in peeling patches, like a bad sunburn, and blood is welling, for a reason Dok cannot fathom, from beneath the fingernails.

“What is this,” asks Doktor flatly. “Red did this to you.”

“No! Dok, it’s just - it’s just - it’s just power!”

“Your power is a part of you, same as Dapper’s, and his never hurts him like this. Does it? No. Why is this happening?”

“Because he hasn’t casted in months,” says Dap, but no one’s looking at him - except Blue, who boxes him off from Trick and Dok’s view and makes him scowl.

“It’s just because of the memory loss,” he chokes, suddenly rising to his feet. “I forgot how to use it right. I need to figure it out on my own, thank you. I think I want a nap, too, you’ll excuse me.”

“Blue!” cry Trick and Dok, in tandem for the second time.

“I said, you’ll excuse me,” snarls Blue, whirling on them, and suddenly he and Red really do look like twins, in more ways than one.

Trick and Dok fall silent, staring at the floor, the fight gone out of them.

Blue vanishes down the hall.

Trick leans down to kiss the dark bruise on Doktor’s wrist, and then over to kiss Dapper too, just for good measure, trying to get the look of utter confusion off his poor little brother’s face.

nikkilbook asked: Red doesn’t seem like he’s the one making the decisions here. Do you know about the muzzle?

“Fuck, don’t say that word!” cries Dok, looking horrified. Trick cringes and blushes bright red at his side, turning his face away from him and dropping his twin’s wrist.

“What an awful thing! Anti used to use that when Trick was still under the old master’s control! Don’t mention such a thing, oh, dear… For Red? Oh, dear… well, maybe that’s why he’s been such a motherfucker to deal with lately…”

Trick is covering his face with his hands, tomato red.

Anonymous asked: Blue, I think you know Genesis, and she's bleeding out. Is there any way you can sneak out and go see her?

You find Blue again in his room, panting on the other side of the room from Red, curled in on himself. He signs to be quiet.

“What, so I can get the shit beat out of me by my twin?” he asks, tears coursing down his cheeks. Grief and rage twist up his whole face. “If you really want to talk to her, Dok and Trick will be out together to guard her soon. I’m so fucking tired.”

He pauses, trying to take a deep breath or two.

“Is she… really bleeding out? I don’t know what you mean about knowing her.”

immabethehero asked: She was symbols on her similiar to a pack of cards. Does that remind you of anything?

“She does?”

Blue gets up uncertainly and tilts his head at Red’s computer, wondering if he can catch a glimpse of the girl on the security camera.

“Where? I only saw the sigil on her wrist.”

Anonymous asked: Genesis, is there something, anything you can tell us about your club? We think our friend was in it once, and we need to jog his memory. He might trust you if he knows even the smallest thing!

Genesis snorts and closes her eyes, turning away.

“I’ve said enough already! I bet the demon can see this, huh?”

She sighs and eventually turns back to you, frowning. “If he really knows something about it, he should have a… club…”

She sighs. “Okay, it’s called an ‘order.’ He should have a national order he belongs to. Otherwise he’s a rogue cast, which would be why his signal was picked up unregistered in the area anyway.”

immabethehero asked: It's a band on her wrist. A leather strap with a raven etched into it, its beak open and its eye shaped like a jewel.

Blue pauses. Even his hands are stilled for a moment. He stares at the floor.

“With… a jewel for an eye?”

immabethehero asked: I'm not sure. Do you have a club, anywhere on you?

“A club? I have card symbols on my ankle. Club, spade, diamond, heart.”

He shows you his tattooed ankle beneath his jeans.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe we can try to phrase it differently....did you know a sorcerer of some kind who had an affinity for nature stuff? Marvin here, who goes by Blue, can make flowers grow with ease with his emotions. At least, he used to...

Genesis raises her eyebrows. “Sounds like a pretty power. Which hand does he cast with? Marvin, huh? What country he is from?”

Anonymous asked: Genesis says she was in something called an "order," and you would have a club on you. See? You're connected!

“Did she say I would have a club on me? I thought these were just my power symbols. Anti likes me to hide them. I don’t know what she would know about me.”

He pulls slightly away from you again, catching sight of Red and remember his mistrust.

“I don’t like her! She tried to take Red from me!”

immabethehero asked: Genesis!! The blue haired man, called Blue, has a club, spade, heart and diamond tattooed on his ankle!!!

“Oh, cool. I don’t know anything about that. What’s a spade? That isn’t what I meant when I said he might be in a club, but I always believed that coincidences must mean something, yes?”

nikkilbook asked: I thought you were angry with Red.

“Oh, so I should let him be fucking abducted?” scowl Blue’s hands. He whirls away from you, sulking.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Genesis, he has a tattoo of card suits on his ankle. He's European of some kind.

She shrugs. “Europe is big. But organizations out there are close-knit - I am surprised he is not registered with an order, or was never caught by those who prevent catastrophe. Magicians do not really function alone, or hardly ever. They are at least known to the national order, and usually a part of it.”

immabethehero asked: As in card symbols, Genesis! He has all four tattooe on his ankle!!! His real name is Marvin the Magnificent, btw.

Genesis shrugs at you, her mouth tilted into a frown. “Doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Anonymous asked: Yes, she's in really bad shape. Maybe you don't "know" her personally, but you might have some kind of connection to her. I know this is scary, but you're so strong. You can help her.

Blue keeps his back turned to you for a long time.

Like he’s waging some war with himself.

“I know about a bird with a jewel eye,” he says finally, aloud, but in a tiny, croaking voice. “But I… I can’t be like her, can I?”

He covers his face with his hands, trying to breathe. “What if Anti sees my - what if Anti realizes I’m connected to her and - and - and strings me up too? What if I do belong to some sort of horrible order that tries to steal people away from their families? I don’t… I don’t remember, I didn’t mean…”

He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, stroking his right shoulder.

nikkilbook asked: I suspect he uses both hands to cast, given that both hands are raw and bleeding because he hasn’t cast in months. He also uses poetry as focus words.

“Both hands?” Genesis sits up straight, staring at you with wide, excited eyes. “Like a really powerful sorcerer! Oh, poetry, like a real traditionalist!”

nikkilbook asked: Blue, I think a distinction needs to be made that she and her friends were trying to steal someone away from a demon, not their family. She calls them “the ones who prevent catastrophe.”

Blue whitens, staring at you.

“I don’t… know why I know that phrase.”

He stalks away, staring at the wall, picking at his shoulder.

Anonymous asked: Genesis? How are you holding up? We want to help you, and the boys that Antis captured. Can you tell us anything so we can do that?

She sighs, closing her eyes. “I’ll be fine, okay? I’m tough, you know, good blood in me. Strong heart and all, no sweat. Just a little blood is all. Damn. I don’t know how you can help - I need to tell the rest of my order to come help. They could maybe stop the demon… except there’s only a few of us, and he seems to have such a tight grip. Tell your magician boy that if he would cast something strong, strong enough to overcome the way the demon has been trying to hide him, the Order would be alerted and could come.”

badlypostedeverything asked: They've all been emotionally abused and manipulated into depending on Anti (The bad one). They think that he loves them, and are unwilling to hurt him in any way, however they are not bad people

“Anti,” she repeats softly.

“That’s the bad one, then? You’re truthful?”

She stares at the wall, thinking.

“What… is he? To control so many people enough that they believe this? Your boys are in a bad tangle, little camera elves… this is a great deal of power, hidden up here in this mountain.”

florenceisfalling asked: lots of bad people had families and lives, but CHOSE cruelty instead. these people didn't choose this. they just want to be safe again. and if you try to leave without helping them - helping undo what the demon's done - you're probably gonna get your ass kicked.

Genesis sighs. “I think I already did. It’s not that I don’t want to help - it’s just, I’m not sure I can.”

Anonymous asked: Well at least you’ve still got a sense of humour. And no, dapper is Antis guard dog at this point. Anti doesn’t like getting his hands dirty so he uses Dapper to do the work for him, and really anyone else.

“Okay, the little man in the vest - he’s good news, just controlled? What a dick he acts like. Like my skin is a canvas. Little fucker. Very well, I’ll forgive him if he can break free.”

immabethehero asked: Genesis, the guy with the hair is a magician with magic. His real name's Marvin the Magnificent!!! He used to have a mask with different card symbols before Anti screwed him over and brainwashed him

“The guy with the hair! Haha, are most of them bald? Okay, Marvin the magnificent magician.”

Anonymous asked: We're only trying to help you. If you're gonna get out of here, you'e going to have to know what you're dealing with. And Jameson is the LEAST of your worries, I promise. And we're really sorry about Hermann.

“Oh, thank you. Yes… I’m glad he survived. We weren’t sure, for a while there. He’s… he’s like a brother to me, really. Dumb boy…”

Cest-mellow asked: jameson isn’t the demon! none of them are demons except anti. if you want to kill someone, it should be anti. he has them all as his “little slaves” just how you saw the man in the red hood. all of them are brainwashed and hurt. anti made jameson torture you, and hell probably make him do a lot worse if you’re not careful. Five anons and immabethehero made similar points and were added.

Genesis shakes her head, disoriented by all the messages. “Hell, how many camera elves are there? Damn, okay, thank you, this helps, this - I’m sorry, time traveler?”

She pauses for a long time, staring at the wall.

“You know what,” she says, a little white. “Maybe obvious, but uhhh… I’m starting to think I’m in real trouble.”

Anonymous asked: You've never spoken to her, Blue, you can't know if you don't like her. Don't you know she probably has people she cares about, too? Her friend, Hermann, is hurt and she wants to take care of him. She keeps mentioning friends that she hopes are looking for her. You have to know what that feels like. Give her a chance.

“Oh, she… she really has friends? That could be dangerous, right, that… I guess she must be angry Dap stabbed her friend, though… I guess I get that…”

immabethehero asked: There is no resting for you guys, is there? Maybe you just leave Anti?

“I love Anti, I love Anti, I love Anti,” chant Blue’s hands, as he paces around the room, his fingers clenched tight together. “I love him, I love him. Blue, stop thinking.”

Anonymous asked: She says Hermann is like her brother.

“Aww.” Blue reaches for his heart as though touched, only to yank his hand away again, eyes wide. “No, I don’t care!”

nikkilbook asked: Blue, what’s wrong with your shoulder? Are you all right?

“It’s just a tattoo, right? It doesn’t have to mean anything! It doesn’t have to mean anything about her or me or anything. It’s just a tattoo. It’s just a coincidence. It’s just a bird! Right?”

Anonymous asked: Wait everyone hold up, this is great and all, finding someone who is sane and could help out, but how do we know that she’s the real deal? That she won’t go and kill the boys once she knows enough? I mean Antis fine but what about the others

“Yeah, exactly, exactly!” Blue clings too it, eyes too bright. “She’ll bring more people back, they’ll hunt us down, beat my baby brothers like they beat Red, steal us away, away, kill us! She’s bad, like Anti said! And I’m not like her!”

Anonymous asked: Ma’am, we’re sorry, but you have to calm down. No one is going to hurt you alright? Nothing gets said to the demon, this is all between us. You have our word, is that enough for now?

She sighs. Shrugs. Weary.

“We’re talking, aren’t we? That’s all I can promise for now.”

Anonymous asked: You do care, Blue! You care! You're angry, and sad, and you're full of love and poetry. Stop holding it in! The world deserves to see the Magnificence of you! Let it out!

Blue licks at his mouth, frantic.

“Fuck, but my hands hurt,” he sobs, making Red stir. “Fuck, but I want this to stop!”

Anonymous asked: Blue. Marvin. We need you to do a really big favor for us, and you're not gonna like the sound of it, but we promise you can trust us, okay?

Blue stares at you, eyes blown wide. Clenching and unclenching his hands.

Anonymous asked: hush. just tell me your favorite poem, blue.

Blue closes his eyes.

“Not that,” whisper his hands. “Red will be punished. He promised Anti… he promised Anti I would stop casting… I’ve held this back for so long, I can last, I can last…”

He sinks down to his knees. Staring at Red.

You remember, from a long time ago, hearing Anti call his twin system a failsafe.

Anonymous asked: We genuinely want to help, Genesis. The only reason we know anything that's going on is because Anti thinks it's funny. We know who the boys used to be and he wants us to see how he's stripped their identities away. It's his sick way of proving he's "won" but they're still here and so are we. So we help them however we can. And right now you're our best option.

She nods slowly. “So even you, too, are kept here by the demon’s cruelty… But I am just one woman. I think you are underestimating how much power it will take to be freed of a creature like this… I’ve heard only snippets of legends about monsters that steal love like this. Either you must get the boys away from the monster forever, or you must see that every single one of them turns their back on it, so the demon cannot be made strong by their control, and turn them against each other. It will take either a great external force to steal them away and keep them hidden for the rest of their lives, or an even great act of revolution from within each of these men he has made into slaves.”

Anonymous asked: this is how you save him, blue.

Blue stares at the floor, breathing in, and out.

“From… Anti?”

Anti’s guard dog is asleep at his feet. Anti’s ears are closed with Red’s eyes.

Blue stares down at the old scars on Red’s face. At the chain around his ankle.

In the other room, he can hear Trick and Dok chatting, light and happy, occasionally pausing to reassure their confused little brother of whatever’s upsetting them. They feast on chicken and soda pop, because most of the time, Anti doesn’t give them the spare change it takes to buy sugar.

Blue licks at his lips.

Anonymous asked: We try, Genesis, but the minute we have one, we lose him again. Anti can just take them away whenever he wants, and they love him. We're scared we can never help them. That's why we're so hopeful to meet you. Something new needs to happen.

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Yes, I’m sure, especially if a long time they have been under his control… it might take you a long time yet. Maybe we can get them away from the monster - if not forever, at least long enough for them to find themselves again. Damn, this is the sort of thing Hermann loves… he would know all about it, if I could get them back to him. Spells for purity and strength and resilience. They could band together there, and be able to fight him, but… the truth is… there are only a few of us at the base right now… the Old Man does not fight anymore, and Hermann is injured… I fear it will only be me and Nicholas and Emmanuela. Maybe one or two others, if they’ve stopped in.”

She sighs. “Your boys are very badly tangled up.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, what's a little poetry going to do? Or hum a tune. Get your mind off of the pain, or get away from red and the others to let a little bit of the magic out.

“Not now,” he whispers finally. “Not now. Let the others fall asleep, so Anti will know it’s not there fault. Let it be mine alone…

“I can wait… just a few more hours. I can get everything ready, so, when I’m gone, they’ll still be okay.”

His face has gone very white.

But there is an old, familiar light in there.

“You’ll tell them I loved them, won’t you?”

He staggers towards the door, as if a weight stands on his shoulders - no, as if it has been taken off, after sitting there for so long it makes him unbalanced to be gone.

“I, um… I need to…”

What does he need to do? What can he do to caretake?

“Fresh water,” he mumbles, gathering up the jugs in the kitchen. “I need to get them fresh water…”

Anonymous asked: You're so brave. We love you. And you'll tell them yourself.

Marvin smiles at you, just for a second.

nova-cryptid asked: Genesis, a little while ago, when we mentioned the bird with the gem eye you have, Marvin starting picking at his shoulder, and when we asked him what was wrong he started rambling about how, and I quote “it was just a tattoo, right?” and “it didn’t have to mean anything about me or her” eventually saying (at this point he seemed worried almost) “it’s just a bird! Right?” I think maybe Marvin could have the same or a similar tattoo on his shoulder, but I’m not completely sure.

“Oh? Well, why you are asking me, then? Make him take his shirt off. Damn, I wish this was under a more fun context. You should make my guard boy take his shirt off too. What do you say?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dok? You and Trick can take care of each other, right?

Dok and Trick sit up from where they were trying to coax Dapper to eat more, alarm in their faces.

“Um… yeah,” Trick laughs nervously. “Why do you… why do you ask? Is someone angry?”

Doktor’s getting to his feet, glancing around the house, worry on his mouth.

Anonymous asked: Marvin? How are you holding up, buddy?

“It’s weird how much better I feel just thinking about it… ending.”

Blue stares down at his hands as he scoops up bottle after bottle and jug after jug. You don’t know how he’ll carry it all when it’s full. It will take him two trips without his twin. He’s been doing it every day since Red was sent to get Anti that book.

“I think I’ll wait til… til tonight, and try and get far from Red, so Anti will maybe… fuck, I hope he doesn’t punish him, I…”

Blue chews on his lip, nervous.

“I’d just like this to end,” he sighs, rubbing his trembling hands. “Without hurting anyone. I wish Anti would just… but forget it. I can’t ask him to be something he’s not. This is just how it has to be.”

Anonymous asked: Don’t leave a note Blue, and go as soon as possible. Dapper isn’t in great shape to time travel right now. Be safe.

“Shit, do you think Dap will be in trouble too? What if he gets sick trying to turn back, or he’s too freaked out and Anti hurts him? My poor baby.”

Blue’s anxiety has shot up and he pauses in the doorway, staring back at the room of the brothers he’s started to think of as triplets more than anything else.

“They’re so good,“ he whimpers. “I don’t know how they stay so good in all this. All they ever do is look after each other. Oh, I can’t leave my little brothers, that’s - that’s my job, that’s my only job, to look after them, to take care of them! That’s your job, Blue!”

Anonymous asked: Nothing, boys. Tensions are high right now, we’re just concerned for you guys.

Dok retreats nervously from the doorway, wishing he still had a door to hide behind.

Trick tries to keep his voice light. They’ve been through a hundred days and nights like this.

“Hey, Dok, read us a story or something, man. He can recite shit, did you guys know that? Dapper, pick a story.”

“New book,” Dapper insists, pointing at Dok’s mattress, where the little gold book Trick bought him in Norway rests.

“New? I’ve read it a hundred times,” chuckles Dok, turning back to them.

“New to me! No ghosts.”

“It’s your favorite anyway, Dok-Dok.”

“Okay, okay,” laughs Dok, picking it up. “Lie down with me. The Bridge of San Luis Rey, by Thornton Wilder. Part One: Perhaps an Accident…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: They don't really have a choice to be good, Blue....Keep in mind, Anti doesn't give them a choice.

“Excuse me! Don’t have a choice to be good? They’re the best - the most caring - they’re - they’re perfect!”

It’s possible he has some blind spots in his little brother vision.

“Even when Anti’s mad, and Red’s mad, and I’m being a dick too, just to make it worse, and Dapper’s struggling and Trick’s tired and Dok’s hurting, they still just - they still just - ”

Blue might cry. He wipes furiously at his face, his hands over his heart.

“They don’t deserve… oh, I need this to stop, something has to change…”

bupine asked: blue, i really don't think you should leave by yourself. anti will take it out on the othwrothers. you gotta find an opportunity for you all to leave or everything's gonna end up just like last time

“I’m just going to go refill the water, sheesh… and tonight I won’t go so far Anti won’t find me.

Wait, you guys didn’t want me to run away, did you?”

badlypostedeverything asked: The best you can do for them is to go. They'll be alright, we'll look after them for you

“You did!” accuses Blue, reddening. “I - I can’t believe - you never stop, do you? I’d never leave my family behind! Not… not while there was still air in my lungs.”

Anonymous asked:

Um, yes, we thought so? Blue, what were you planning to do?

Blue stares at you, dismayed.

“’A little poetry,’ you said. ‘Genesis is your best chance,’ you said. I just need to get some of this hurt out of my hands…”

Anonymous asked: Oh, so leaving them forever was the better option? From the outside you could help them! Don't lose faith now, Marvin, you're so close!

“You know what, I don’t remember much, but I’m getting a sense of deja vu right now. Haven’t you tried to convince me to go on my own before? How’d that work out for you?”

Anonymous asked: What?? No, that's not what we meant! Do you really think we'd ever want you to hurt yourself? Of course not! We wanted you to be free! We want you to help your brothers get free, and you can't do that from the inside!

“No! Not - have you been listening - I would never abandon them! Never, never, not even if it was the death of me! On the outside? Of what? Don’t you understand what I’m trying to stop is just this… this… this anger! This hurt in my hands!”

He cries out and drops his bottles as his fingers tighten up again, and this time, to your alarm, you realize his hands are not the only thing glowing. He wails on the side of the mountain, clutching at a chest burning bright blue.

“Hot, hot,” he chokes, gripping at the dirt. Flowers burst up beneath his fingers. “Why won’t Anti let me cast? Why won’t he let me cast? I thought you wanted me to do what the girl asked and let this power go so her friends would see, and maybe they could stop some of this fucking anger in my family! I want them to stop Red from hitting everyone and Anti from hurting us anymore! I don’t want to leave anybody behind! I - fuck, this burns!”

He crumples over his hands with a shriek, grass exploding from beneath his palms.

“I wasn’t talking about leaving!” he shouts. “I was talking about this power fucking killing me!”

bupine asked: i'm glad you're not planning to leave at least, it's a bad idea to leave your brothers. be careful with your magic please, marvin, don't catch anti's attention

“I’m trying, I’m trying, just a little while longer,” he moans, dragging himself back to his feet as the light subsides, sweat dripping down his forehead. “I need to get this fucking power out, I need, I need… oh, I have to get my boys their water…”

Anonymous asked: Okay, okay! Okay. We're sorry, Blue. I guess we misunderstood each other. If that's what you'd rather do, we support you, but don't back down. If you do that, there's gonna be a fight to come.

“Already a fight,” mumbles Blue. “Dealing with Red and Anti lately is a fucking warzone. I’m not going to watch Dap get slapped one more time.”

Anonymous asked: HOW is that any different from leaving, Marvin?

“I don’t want to die,” he chokes. “I just need to get this power out, and you’re the ones who told me I should use the poetry to do what the girl asked. She said strong enough magic would break through Anti’s hiding us, didn’t she? And you told me I should cast like that. You wanted me to bring the girl’s friends to us, didn’t you? Why would I possibly just leave?”

Anonymous asked: You're the strongest of them, Blue. You can protect them from anything. That's why we believe in you so much. We're sorry that we upset you.

“It’s not your fault, it’s just this fucking magic eating me alive, and Anti treats me like I’m… like I’m some kind of bomb… the way he looks at me lately, it’s almost like he doesn’t even love me anymore. He gets this strange look in his eyes… ever since Red brought him that book. It’s like he’s… I don’t know, like he’s hungry.”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: What book blue

“Oh. That’s what Anti sent Red to kill that man for, I guess. Some big old ugly book with a raven on it. Ever since he let Red sleep in prison and he got that book, he’s cooped up in his room all day pouring over it. Barely even seems interested in Dap, lately… I’m worried about him. And he’s scaring me…”

reverseblackholeofwords asked: What book did Red get?

“Yeah, I don’t know what Anti wants with a book? My little brother isn’t exactly the scholarly type, right? Haha. Hopefully it’s just… I… I don’t know…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Genesis? Can you explain to us what relevance a book with the symbol on your bracelet on it night have?

Genesis looks up, surprised. “A book from our library, you mean?”

Anonymous asked: i'm no expert but i do not think this is wholesome literature we are talking about my guy

“No? You don’t think so?” Blue grins weakly at you, trying to joke. “It’s not Pride and Prejudice? I think he could really benefit from that one…”

bupine asked: hold on, what book did red bring anti? (did i just forget this or has it not yet been mentioned fgdghddghdd)

“They’re talking about a book too,” Dapper interrupts Dok’s reading, tapping on his camera, picking up a stray signal. “What’s the matter, guys?”

bupine asked: genesis, i think anti, the demon, has a book from your library. how bad is that on a scale from one to ten

Genesis stares at you.

For like… a really long time.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: I think so? It has the raven symbol on it, and they kept saying it was a "big ugly book" that the demon hasn't let go of since one of the boys got back from jail.

“Can’t be,” she whispers, though her face grows ever whiter. “You don’t understand what’s in those books… we guard them with our lives. He would have had to kill one of my friends to get something like that. Can’t be… in a demon’s hands…”

immabethehero asked: RECITE DR. SUESS BLUE AND TAKE ANTI LIKE THAT

Blue snorts, shaking his head, confused. “Am I going to soften my most murderous little brother up with Green Eggs and Ham, is that what you’re telling me? Haha?”

immabethehero asked: NO WaIT BLUE RECITE SHEL SILVERSTEIN

“No, that guy’s the real demon… look at that face… terrifying!” Blue grins and crouches down by the water spigot in the middle of the community, beginning to fill up his water bottles for his family.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin, he doesn't love any of you. Anti is just using you guys.

Blue startles, unused to the brashness. After a moment, he fixes you with a glare and turns away a little snobbishly.

A little teary-eyed.

Anonymous asked: yes, from Anti. this is how you save all of them, Marv.

“He’s not so bad,” whispers Blue, rubbing at his face. “I mean… sometimes he is… but so is Red, sometimes. I just… I just think we need a little help. It’s not a betrayal of him, is it? I have to protect my family. I’m… the caretaker. That’s your job, Blue… like that night Dapper stabbed Anti to protect me… it wasn’t a betrayal… he’s just… too angry, sometimes, and I don’t know how to make him stop anymore…”

Anonymous asked: Marv, the best thing you can do for them right now is get away as soon as you can. They're strong, don't worry. It's going to be okay.

“I’ll call for help,” he assures you softly, closing his eyes. “I’ll try… I hope that Genesis girl isn’t lying that her friends will help us.”

Anonymous asked: you can do it, Marvin!

He chuckles, warming a little. “Thanks, guys.”

Anonymous asked: We know Blue, we know. Trust us, this will help you and them. You can do it, for their sake.

“Yeah, yeah… I have to look out for all of us. Anti needs help too. We’ll all be happier if we can balance out again. Like those first few days I remember… we were so happy… he promised me, you know… he promised me I’d be happy.”

Blue straightens up, hauling gallons of water into his arms. He stands on the edge of that mountain as tall as he can, feeling like a lone star without his twin next to him… chained up at home like a dog…

“Has to stop,” he mumbles. “Something has to change.”

He stares out over the mountain, down the shifting, dangerous dusty road that has scraped his knees a hundred times, across the shed-like one-room houses where this resilient people make their home, many of whom have shown him and his family kindness, across the little bar down the road where Dok and Trick helped deliver a new baby just this morning. The other side of the mountain is lush and private, but he does not look there, has no love for that locked off side of the mountain where the people could eat if anyone would let them.

Blue hums a song that sounds like an Easter hymn for the hope in it.

Down his mountainside is the city, huge and wonderful, with every color bustling around the streets, a blaze of smell and light where he spent hours trailing like adventurers through the markets and roads. And beyond it, the sea, great and beautiful.

Why does he feel like this is the last time he’ll see it?

Anonymous asked: Hey, deep breaths, blue, just deep breaths, alright? What you’re about to do is gonna shake up a lot of stuff, and Anti is going to be beyond pissed so you have to be prepared. No matter what you cannot tell anyone why you did it, otherwise that woman and her friends will be killed and your brothers will be up rooted and moved again with a lot more punishments and restrictions. Just stay safe, Marv, please, and best of luck.

“Yes,” he says, almost sadly. “Everything changes tonight, I think.”

Anonymous asked: anti's the one who's betraying you. he claims to love and want to protect you. protectors don't hurt who they protect, or make them hurt other people. love isn't forcing someone to live in a way that makes them miserable. you deserve to be treated better. all of you.

Blue sighs, staring down at his feet, turning away from the ocean to head back towards his home. “I don’t know anymore.”

immabethehero asked: Go Cat In the Hat on Anti. Recite anything with a climax that involves the house in absolute chaos and defeat Anti from there. Better yet, go Lorax and yeet him or you and brothers out be the seat of his or your pants

“There’s an idea,” he smiles wearily, looking over at you. “Some of you sure are wilder than others… we might need a little out-of-the-box thinking around here. But maybe not that.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, before everything gets crazy and scary, just don't stop believing in Jackie. He never wanted to hit any of you, he only does it because he thinks it's better coming from him than Anti. And he needs you to remind him that he's a good big brother. You need each other, right?

Blue’s eyes well up and water over.

“Want him to be himself again,” he whispers. “Yeah… yeah, I need him. I need him to be my brother again. I need him to be their brother again.”

Pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Blue? Could you take your shirt off so we can see the tattoo there? Bupine asked: blue, can we see your tattoo?

Blue stops short, his arms full of water.

The warm wind cuts across his hair, getting longer these days. His earrings clink against his piercings. It’s too warm for his brown coat, and all he has on is a nice blue t-shirt.

He sets his water down and pulls his sleeve away from his shoulder, where a tattoo of a bird stands in silent testimony - a small, perfect, delicate lapwing

With a small blue jewel for an eye.

bupine asked: you and your brothers could be free again, marvin. no more torture or walking on eggshells or panicked time travel or bloodshed or pain. you'd be together as the people you used to be, more or less. don't you remember your brothers names?

“Yeah,” he whispers, pulling his shirt back up his shoulder and picking up his water. “Yeah, I’d really like that. I - oh. Names? I… just the one, and I mustn’t say it. It’s a twin’s job to keep those old secrets, you know. But please, I really won’t tell.”

Anonymous asked: i know it's hard to accept, blue, but we wouldn't lie about this

“Yes, I… I think, perhaps, I trust you. After all we’ve been through. Right?”

Anonymous asked: i think anti's waiting for you to wake up

“What are you talking about?” yawns Trick, listening to Dok’s warm voice tell him a good story. “Who needs to - ”

Screaming erupts from the room across the hall and Dok, Trick, and Dap all react as one, rushing into the bathroom and pulling the curtain closed over the doorway behind them. They brought you with them and you sit beside them as they pile up in the tub, hiding from their big brother.

Red shrieks even as he comes awake, clawing at his wrists and head. He can feel blood running down his hands, seeping from his fingers, dripping down his face, and he chokes on a sob, collapsing against his mattress to writhe, rocking his body hard. The next scream is one of pure frustration, slamming his palm against the floor, hiding his face in his hands.

He doesn’t give himself enough time to recover before dragging himself to his feet, heaving for air. He stalks over to Trick and Dok’s room and immediately finds them in the bathroom, ignoring sudden cries of protest to grab Trick by the back of his shirt and shove him back into his room, picking up his gun and shoving it at him.

“Go guard that fucking girl like you’re supposed to,” he snarls. “Or do you want Anti to bash your head in?”

“I - I thought I had til nightfall - ”

“How much darker could it be out, Trick?”

Trick gives up on protest and races out the door, Dok hustling after a moment later. Dapper tries to follow, only to be snatched by the collar again and hauled back towards Anti’s room. He lets out a sorrowful little whistle, trailing sadly after Red and sinking obediently down outside the door when he’s pushed.

He curls in on himself, sulking. Red shouldn’t just - oh, wait. Why is he still standing above him?

Dapper blinks and looks up. Red stares back at him, something shattered in his eyes.

“J?” asks Dap softly, confused. “You… you’re okay?”

Red’s eyes flicker away and he scoffs, backing away, his hands shaking. He limps back to his room, curling in on himself.

He wants Blue.

immabethehero asked: You are loved, Red! Remember that!!!

“Motherfuck,” Red says blandly, slumping down in his corner again, his face white. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dapper, do you know anything about the book Anti has with him?

Dapper blinks over at you, rubbing his shoulders, and his eyes widen.

“That horrible thing! It feels awful, awful, awful! I can feel it from everywhere in the house, and it stinks like blood and sand and rubber. I want Anti to get rid of it! He said I was being a baby.”

bupine asked: red, can you tell us about the book you stole for anti?

Red stares at the wall, dead-eyed.

“I know that man was willing to die for it. Painfully.”

bupine asked: about the whole killing thing? uh, yeah, someone is definitely dead. anti had one of the boys go get the book and i think he killed someone to do it. sorry, genesis.

Genesis slumps down in her chair.

Staring at the floor.

Her mouth parts, and closes, and parts, and closes.

She says nothing.

nikkilbook asked: Red, do you still have your little alpaca duder? And your dog tags? Seems like you could use something to hold right now.

His hands shift, twitching for his things, but eventually he just curls in on himself. Monsters don’t get to hold alpaca toys and presents from little brothers.

bupine asked: genesis. what is in that book? anti's been reading it, and we need to know what he knows

“We have a thousand books! It’s a library! I fear no one but the demon will know until it’s too late.”

nikkilbook asked: Strange. I don’t see any monsters. I just see you.

“Do you know what I saw Dapper say once? What is a monster but a man who does monstrous things?”

bupine asked: you aren't a monster, red! you're a good person. you used to do such good things. you still would if anti would let you. but you have to do evil things so anti doesn't hurt your brothers, it's not your choice or your fault. it never was. you might not realise that now, but one day, when this is all over, you will. don't deprive yourself of comfort because you think you don't deserve it, cause i think you need it more than anyone right now

“I don’t want to talk,” mumbles Red, pushing you out of view of him.

“Hey, Red!” someone calls.

You can almost hear him perk up.

“Yes, Anti!”

“Where’s Blue gone?”

Red blinks, thinking. Where’s he gone? He’s not in the house?

Oh, fuck. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. He lost track. He’s the big brother and he lost track.

He scrambles to his feet, nearly tripping over his chain. A moment later, he darts into the clinic, searching frantically for Blue, searching frantically for -

Oh! Thank God. He’s coming up the path now. Red nearly slumps over.

“Red, what’s wrong?” asks Blue, worried.

“There’s my boy,” calls Anti, and appears in the clinic, playing with a knife. He looks cheerful and much more solid than he has been in a long time, pushing past Red to hurry towards Blue. “Why do I smell magic, then, huh?”

“Oh!” Blue stares at Red, alarmed. “Um - um - ”

“His hands have been breaking out awfully,” Red puts in, his voice croaking. “Look how sore they are, Anti. Magic’s all but leaking out of him.”

Anti frowns and moves forward, grabbing Blue’s hands. Blue hisses, pain rising in his palms. “Anti, ow, ow.”

Anti stares at them for a long time.

“Next week,” he promises, patting his hands. “Next week, I’ll have everything ready, and I’ll know exactly how to handle it, okay?”

Blue softens. “You’re not… you’re not angry?”

“I know you’re doing your best,” purrs Anti, stroking his cheek. Blue startles and then relaxes, a smile filling up his face.

And then he meets Anti’s eyes.

Warmth fills him up in a great rush, like apple cider and a hot bath at the same time. It’s almost too hot, but he doesn’t protest, suddenly a little dizzy under Anti’s hands. His little brother brushes hair from his eyes, humming.

“You’re being good while Red learns his lesson, aren’t you, Azul?”

“Oh, yes, Anti, yes.”

“You’re not scared of that girl in the shed or anything?”

“No, no. I know you’ve got it covered, you, you…” Blue trails off, blinking. What were they talking about? His hand is on Anti’s waist.

“You and Dap,” murmurs Anti, stroking his hand through his hair. “Are far more powerful than any of those little pests. And all your brothers are watching over you.”

“I’m not scared, honey.” Blue is eager to reassure, smiling at him. “I wasn’t. I’m not.”

“Ah, good then.”

Anti draws back and Blue goes cold, blinking rapidly, staggering back.

Red stares between the two of them, terrified.

“Well,” chirps Anti, cheerful as ever. “That’s all I wanted to check. Oh, and Red?”

“Yes, Anti?”

Anti’s eyes turn cold. Red, for his part, gets no warmth for them.

“Shut the fuck up with the screaming before I do you like Dapper, you understand?”

Red pales and nods swiftly, stepping back from him.

nikkilbook asked: By that logic, what is a man who makes sure his brothers get Christmas presents, puts himself at risk to make sure his littlest brother gets the proper medication, and quotes vines at the top of his lungs?

Blue staggers from one counter to another, blinking rapidly. “D-damn,” he stammers, disoriented. Water bottles go slipping from his grasp and Red hurries to scoop them up for him, grabbing his elbow to help him from falling. “What were you talking about, Red?”

“Nothing,” hisses Red. “Blue, are you okay?”

Anonymous asked: Red, you’re being so hard on yourself. We understand that you’re trying to protect them, but you still have a choice in how you act. It’s alright to be soft remember? There’s strength there, and you’re so much stronger than what Anti says. He’s so quick to discard people, it was never because you were weak. It was because you were too strong being who you really are- a kind hearted soul that loves his brothers. They don’t like seeing you like this and we don’t either. Just loosen up a bit, yeah?

“No, they’re definitely trying to talk to you about some shit,” stammers Blue, sinking back against Red’s chest. “What happened?”

“We weren’t goddamn talking! Blue, did he do something to you?”

“Feel dizzy,” complains Blue. “Ouch, like he took something.”

“What?”

Blue stumbles, gripping at Red’s hands. “Think I need to sit down.”

Anonymous asked: A man that does monstrous things and doesn’t feel /remorse/ for it, that makes a monster. The idea that you can’t even sleep at night because of the things you’ve done shows that you regret the pain that you’ve caused them. You are not a monster, just a tortured soul acting on what you’ve known for how ever long you’ve been here. I mean you still want to protect them! A monster only thinks for himself. And yes, there is such thing as a difference between the two.

Red brings Blue back to their room and sits him down on the mattress. He wants to rub his back, but isn’t sure if Blue would let him.

“Did you call yourself a monster?” asks Blue, bewildered. “My… my Red?”

Red turns as scarlet as his name and sinks away from his brother.

He’s not going to cry. He’s not going to cry. He doesn’t get to cry in front of anyone.

Anonymous asked: oh god, always at the worst possible moment this happens

“Weird how he seems to fucking plan it like that,” snarls Red.

Blue stares up at him, wide-eyed.

Red covers his mouth with his hands, choking.

“I didn’t m-mean that. He’s good… I’m not… angry.”

Anonymous asked: MARVIN DON'T FREAK OUT BUT ANY TIME NOW WOULD BE GOOD

“Oh, you’ll have to give me a moment,” slurs Blue, sinking down on Red’s shoulder, who stiffens hard. “Now I’m so… so tired.”

“What is going on?” frowns Red.

Anonymous asked: T-took something? What do you mean? Like, 'stole something important' took, o-or 'took a weight off your chest' took? Are you okay?!?

“Mmf, like I was warm, and then the warm was… all gone. But it was… it was my warmth and he took it.”

“Blue.” Red looks alarmed. “You’re scaring me.”

Anonymous asked: What the hell? Did he take your magic from you?

Blue shrugs and holds out his hand, focusing to get a little blue glow up in his hands, but it doesn’t spread to his chest anymore, and he doesn’t shake so much.

“Blue!” cries Red, grabbing his hands to hide them. “Stop that, now!”

Blue pulls the magic down again, shrugging. It’s not so much of an effort anymore.

Anonymous asked: oh, I don't know, red. maybe if you'd stopped wallowing in your misery for a minute you'd notice when your brothers need help

Red recoils from you, shocked.

“I - I - I wasn’t allowed to - and you - you think I want to be a screaming, fucked-up, shaking little - freak? Driven just by what Anti wants, driven all the time by this h-hatred. Is that - am I - ”

He curses and draws away from you, panting.

“I don’t care what you think. No, you know, you’re right anyway, and it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Rojo,” mumbles Blue, looking up at him. “Ro, Ro. Come hold on to me, I’m cold.”

Red won’t turn back to him. Blue sinks in on himself, shivering.

bupine asked: blu,do you remember the idea you had? the one we were talking about earlier? please say you haven't forgotten.

“Mh.” Blue frowns, holding his shoulders. “You - you were telling me - oh, poems! You had poems for me! I love that! I needed… my hands were hurting me… poetry…”

Anonymous asked: blue, please get up and... handle the waters. right?

“Ah, the water, the water - ”

“I’ll get it,” Red cuts him off immediately, hurrying to the kitchen. He takes every bottle and jug and stacks them up neat, feeling his chest beginning to shake.

When he comes back, Blue is rocking himself on the mattress, looking very pale. Red returns to his side timidly and puts a hand on his forehead.

“You’re so clammy,” he murmurs.

“He got the waters for me,” mumbles Blue, closing his eyes and leaning against his hand. “See, he still loves me…”

Red’s eyes water.

Anonymous asked: Marvin, I've always been partial to The Tyger by William Blake. I think it's a good calling-out song.

“Oh, the Tyger!” gasps Blue, delighted. “I don’t even need to look that one up, yes, yeah, I know! Tyger, Tyger, burning bright!”

Blue pauses to smile up at Red, shaking above him. “That’s like my Red,” he breathes, adoring.

Anonymous asked: "..Oh, shit. ..Buddy, what'd he do to you?" -PF!M

“That’s that other magician,” chatters Blue, pointing at the camera. “The one that’s happier than I am.”

“It’s like you’re fucking delirious…”

Anonymous asked: You said your magic felt really hot, right? Well, if Anti took away the warmth, maybe he took away the excess magic, to make it more tolerable? Can he do stuff like that?

“Oh, oh,” breathes Red, relieved. “Maybe that’s all it was! Just a little excess off the top, oh, that’s good news, isn’t it!”

Blue swallows slowly, like it’s painful, his mouth falling into a frown.

“He… he didn’t ask me to do that.”

“No, well, it’s Anti,” laughs Red, aware that there’s a little hysteria in his giggles. He sees Dapper go wandering past their door, talking to himself, but he hopes he’s just playing puppets, because he can’t handle two of them shattering in one night. Dapper’s scared of him lately anyway, and there’s no one to blame but him. “He takes what he wants! He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t. You just - you just have to get used to it. That’s just Anti. That’s just who Anti is. You just have to handle it. And do what he says! Even if it’s really, really, really horrible!”

He’s pacing the room, gripping at his hair. Blue stares up at him, afraid.

“Why won’t you sit down with me?” he asks softly. “I’ve missed you.”

Red hiccups on a sob, turned away from him.

nikkilbook asked: Does it matter to you, Red?

“Does what?”

musical-in-theory asked: So Anti do you fear the others having power because if they knew how much they all really had, they’d realize just how weak, pathetic, and powerless you really are? Sure you can glitch menacingly and wield a knife, but other than that all you do is hide behind your puppets and let their power do all the work

You find Anti in his room, pouring over that book, practically clapping with joy.

“Say what you want, say what you want,” he sings, barely bothering to glance at his camera’s, most of which have been moved to Red’s room anyway. “Soon this will all be perfect, perfect!”

Anonymous asked: yeah, we know, red. that's what we've been trying to tell y'all

“I’m not mad, I’m not mad, I’m not mad, didn’t mean it, didn’t mean it, didn’t mean it. I love him, I love him, I love him.”

A very small voice cuts him off from the corner. “I love you…”

“Blue,” he begs, and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

“Come sit down with me…”

“I can’t, Anti says I can’t.”

“I feel f-faint, Red, come help me.”

This, at least, is enough to turn Red, and he hurries back to his twin’s side to hold onto Blue’s shoulders.

bupine asked: well, you're in a good mood, anti. what's in that book that's made you anything less than completely miserable tonight?

“Everything,” says Anti smugly.

Anonymous asked: do you want us to write something for you?

“Oh!” Blue seems to melt for you, clapping his hands together. “Oh, I would, but then I’d feel terrible choosing between you. But you can send me some!”

“Blue, what the hell is happening?” Red is reaching his wit’s end.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe the Raven from Poe! Cryptic, and fitting for the bird tattoo. Recite that! :p

“I love Poe. Red, don’t you know the Raven?”

“Um.” Blue is clinging to him so hopefully. “Nevermore, bud.”

“There,” laughs Blue, putting his head on his shoulder. “He does love me.””

Red is going to cry. Or maybe hit something. And he’s not sure he trusts himself enough to be sure that won’t be Blue or Dap, because he’s a fucking ass no matter which way he tells it to himself. He should go.

Blue clings to his sleeve. He can’t seem to move.

bupine asked: "everything" is pretty goddamn vague. what, is it some magic that'll keep the boys in your control forever or some fucked up shit like that? man, i wouldn't put it past you.

“Wow, you’ve convinced me, I’ll tell you everything!”

Anti flips a page of his book and goes back to reading.

Pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, maybe you should go talk to Genesis and show her. Bupine and badlyposted everything added similar questions and were added.

“Oh, Trick’s out there, I don’t think I can.”

“No shit you can’t!” chokes Red. “You’re - you’re up to something dangerous, aren’t you? Something that will get you in trouble with Anti! And then guess who’s going to have to punish you?”

Tears soak down his face. He clutches Blue to his side, forgetting his shyness. “No, no, no, you have to be good, he’ll hurt you!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, what stupid tricks do you have up your sleeve?

“I got, like, three tattoos.”

Anonymous asked: guys, I can't believe i'm saying this, but for once - I don't think he's watching.

Red stops short. Blue, a little disoriented, nevertheless seems to grasp the magnitude of your words - he stares at the camera, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“He’s always watching,” says Red. “He’s always…”

He glances around the room. Out in the hallway, he can see Dapper playing happily, enacting a show with someone he sign names Brother Average as the main character, whistling and letting his shirt get wrinkled as he plays, pausing only to chat with the ghosts. Red peers up over his window and finds Trick and Dok leaning casually against the shed and drinking the last of their sodas like beers, Trick’s gun pointed down in the dust as they chatter away.

And beneath his arm, Blue is murmuring poetry, his hands glowing blue, but no one comes to make him stop.

Red’s supposed to be the one putting things back in order.

Red’s supposed to be the one putting things back in order.

On his head, on his head.

But… around his waist…

Blue is hugging him, pressed up to his side, leaning forward to hold the camera, cold but happy, snuggled up to Red for warmth.

“I… I can’t… this can’t be happening…”

Anonymous asked: oh, who cares, anti? you lose your grip so easily. I don't know what's in that book, but it's not gonna turn out like you think

Anti turns you off, humming to himself.

Anonymous asked: Red, how are Blue's hands? Are they worse, or better?

Red leans down to take one of Blue’s hand. A clean silver rose ring gleams around his finger.

“Um,” he whispers. “I think they’re a little better, b-but he’s bleeding under his nails.”

He turns to see Blue staring up at him, smiling softly.

“I… I…”

Red swallows hard and reaches out to knock their foreheads together.

“Blue, I’m so sorry.”

Blue’s smile falters away. He reaches out to touch his face, stroking his thumb down his beard. “I know you are, Red. But that won’t fix this. Something has to change, Red… I won’t watch you get hurt again… I can’t. None of you.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked:

Red, just savour the moment. Let your brothers be just that: brothers. Join them and have fun!

“This isn’t fun,” whispers Red. “I’ve never been more afraid in my life. He could kill one of us for this.”

Blue runs his hands through his hair, frowning. “I won’t let him.”

“Blue, what the hell are you planning? You could die.”

“Don’t let him,” whispers Blue, like it’s simple. “Help me. I just want to cast a spell. I want someone to come save us. That girl, her friends might help us…”

“Or they might not.”

“I can’t not try, Red. I can’t not try. And besides, my hands ache, and ache, and ache… soothed, for now, but I can’t take another week, Red. He’s made me hold on so long.”

Red’s face contorts; he wipes rapidly at tears.

Anonymous asked:

Quickly, Marv - can you give us a poem? Anything? Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson? Hell, Dr. Seuss? We can't lose this now.

“I love Angelou,” he whispers, still pressed up to Red’s chest, staring up at him. “’Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, weakened by my soulful cries?’ Not us, Ro, not this time…”

“Please.” Red covers his glowing hands like he could hold all his power in his own fingers. “Please, Blue, I’m afraid.”

Anonymous asked: Oh damn Anti, what kind of tattoos do you have?

Anti stares at you. He doesn’t know how you got this message to him, but you did. The sheer befuddlement on his face might have been enough to conduct it to him.

“Um… do you know who Jacksepticeye is, or… did you kind of just wander in here?”

He looks away.

Back at you.

“Bloodborne and Shadow of the Colossus,” he tells you, almost meek with confusion. “And, uh, that circle he got just to mock me… I - ”

He pauses, alerted by how loud two of his boys are talking in the hall. A frown cuts across his face.

Anonymous asked: UUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH NOT AGAINNNNN

“Yeah!” laughs Blue, throwing his head back in a way that reminds you of Jack. “NOT AGAIN!”

“Blue!” cries Red, grabbing his wrists. “You’re delirious or something, stop!”

“Red, I made my decision!”

“He could kill you! He could send you to goddamn prison for the rest of your life! He could kill one of the little ones to punish you!”

“I’m not watching them suffer like this anymore! Not feathered in iron, pretentious in dying, not that way the impoverished spawn of the hamlet inherit you, oh death - ”

“Blue! Stop!”

His hands glow with power.

Anonymous asked: If he got the circle to mock you, then why are you wearing it?

Anti opens and closes his mouth, his face falling. “It’s - it’s my body too! He can’t just - I l-like wearing it like this! I like - ”

He pauses, biting down hard on his lip.

“Not like something made of flesh would understand! Don’t you assholes have better things to ask about!”

nikkilbook asked: If you can’t be unafraid, Jackie, be afraid and happy.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know about you, but personally I can’t even usually handle one emotion at a time, so - Blue, give me the messages!”

Anonymous asked: oh, perfect! hi blue!!! i sent you the poem before, about the dogs, remember? I wrote this last night, I was thinking of you! Here it goes: I told them there'd be flowers / when at last, at winter's end / the frost would put away its teeth / and spring came round the bend!

“Beautiful, beautiful!” he gasps, applauding you. Dapper is staring in at them from the hallway now, his head in his hands and his elbows on the floor, tilting his head at them. Red’s afraid he’ll snitch to Anti. “Spring come round the bend, oh… what a lovely poem, thank you! I loved the dog one too…”

Anonymous asked: uhhh okay seen any good shows lately? mr. robot is pretty cool. it's about a hacker, you might like it. first season is a bit of a slog tho.

“Oh, I like Rami Malek, and the narrative structure of that show is - FUCK OFF.”

In the hallway, Dapper raises his eyebrows, glancing between Anti’s room and Blue’s and Red’s. What a fun night.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Red hes gonna die if he doesnt do this now

“He what?” shouts Red.

Suddenly Red is hauling Blue to his feet, his twin still glowing with magic between his arms. Dapper chirps nervously as Red drags him past him and down the hallway, towards the clinic.

Dap hears Anti standing up in his room, alerted by the yelling.

Anonymous asked: Oh, enough self-pity, Red! You know right from wrong, good from bad, monster from man! there is a monster in your house, you know who it is, and it is not you.

Red chokes, squeezing Blue’s fingers.

“It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter if he hates or loves all of us - though, hell, I know he doesn’t love us. Right and wrong don’t matter anymore! All that matters is keeping their heads on their shoulders!”

“Red.” Blue sounds like he’s the one trying to calm his brother, now. “Red, I’m okay, I - ”

“We need to get away from here! At least where he won’t fucking hear you!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe, if you have enough strength, you should go check on him. :)

Dapper blinks between your message and the door, listening to Blue and Red arguing.

“Oh, Red, Red, let me say goodbye to my little brother first, Red, I want him to know I love him - ”

Dapper turns towards his brother to sign an “I love you,” making Blue glow even brighter.

“Oh, baby, I’ll miss you if this kills me,” sobs Blue, making Red start shouting again, and Dapper backs away, frightened.

Okay. Not fun anymore.

He turns towards the room near the back of the hallway, hearing Anti approach.

Well… he figures he doesn’t want Blue to die any more than Red does.

He dashes forward and knocks on Anti’s door before he can open it, his face contorting with faux grief.

“Dapper?” Anti opens the door, staring around for signs of the disturbance, hearing somebody stepping out towards the clinic. “What’s going on? Why are you crying? Hey, hey, sweetheart, big brother’s got you…”

Dapper half tackles Anti back into his room, burying his face in his chest and crying like a good little actor, complaining about ghosts and red men and the girl in the shed with the star on her cheek until Anti is consumed entirely by an affection that delights in seeing him cry, and Blue and Red are slipping away.

bupine asked: don't be scared, red. this was going to happen sooner or later but it's ok, it'll all be fine in the end, everyone's going to be ok and you won't have to be red anymore

“What the hell is happening?” chokes Red, helping Blue up the path that leads away from their house. “You’re talking like Jesus Christ is about to show up and Second Coming our asses into a whole different timeline!”

“They wear in their skin a more urgent subsistence,” Blue is mumbling - still determined, though, worryingly, he’s clutching his hands together again, pain eating up his expression once more as the power rebuilds. “A thing of their own, poor petal, a raveling cord…”

bupine asked: blue, if there was ever a time to use your magic, it would be now. he can't see you, he's absorbed in his book, he's not gonna notice anything. but be careful - anti's book is dangerous, we don't know what kind of information it has that anti now possesses. stay alert my dudes

“He’s not even watching,” murmurs Blue, clearing up a little. He looks up at the shining sky, power breathing in his hands. “Oh, the stars are out… Red, lets go up to the rich man’s side of the mountain, where we used to run.”

Red stares at him, leading him slowly higher.

“Blue… are you really not mad at me?”

“You’re going to help me put it right,” says Blue, with a confidence so sound Red can’t even object. “If not all perfect today, someday. The two of us. That’s what I believed in, I think, when I gave myself up to him. That even if I couldn’t get away, at least we would be together, and that was enough for me to believe there was still hope.”

“More poetry?” asks Red, confused.

But Marvin only smiles and leads him higher up the mountain.

spicydanhowell asked: how is red out of the chain?

“Oh, he could have gotten it off whenever,” says Blue, pointing down. Red blushes hard and looks away. “Like when Anti makes Dapper wear his rope - remember he said that he could take it off? - or Trick his collar. We’ve mentioned it before. You can take it off whenever you want. Untie it, unlatch it, yank the chain off the stake in the corner of his room as you rush to carry me out of the room and probably bruise your dumb-ass ankle.”

“Sorry,” grumbles Red, bright crimson.

“It’s all humiliation, scare tactics, and symbolism. But the punishment that comes after… isn’t. We won’t worry about that right now, though.”

“I’m worried about it!” shouts Red. “Didn’t Anti once throw Dapper down the fucking stairs for taking off his rope in Norway?”

“Better than losing his mind sitting all alone in a locked up room with a dog collar on!” shouts Blue, finding his vigor again for a second - only to sway right back into Red’s chest a second later. He mutters Boy Breaking Glass under his breath and keeps moving, hiding his aching hands under his shirt.

Anonymous asked: welp, that answers that. whenever you're ready, marv, let 'er rip. we'll be right behind you the whole time

“Hey, you guys know what the sexiest poem ever is? Walt Whitman, gay as hell, three lines, you ready for this? ‘Touch me.’”

Blue pauses, breathing in the warm equator air. Magic is powerful out here, near the center of the earth. He wonders what it would be like to be exactly on the equator.

“‘Touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass.’”

He breathes in deep. Breathes out deep. Tries to remember his own name.

“‘Don’t be afraid of my body.’”

Red has fallen back behind him, trying to remember it too.

cest-mellow asked: red, jackie. anti cant hurt you if you work together. he can’t hurt you if you keep each other safe.

Red breathes out something that might be a laugh or a sob, staring up at his brother, glowing his way up the mountain.

“We always have been a force to be reckoned with, haven’t we?”

Anonymous asked: everything IS in order, Red. Go on, sing some poetry with your big brother.

“Blue,” says Red, very softly. “I think even if you do save the others, I’ll still be a monster.”

“Monsters don’t worry about being monsters.”

“I’ve never believed that. Even Anti shakes when he hears the name of his old master. Afraid to remember the things he’s done, sometimes.”

“Ah, now who’s the revolutionary… more poetry, Red, you’re an artist…”

“I’m not playing. Blood is all my hands are now.”

“Red. The past week has been hell for you.”

Red’s eyes water just to hear someone acknowledge it without saying he deserved it.

“My fault,” he croaked. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“No. No. He was wrong to do that. He was wrong! Your brain’s jumbled, I know, I understand, but I need you to trust me when I tell you - you’re not a monster, you’re a good man with a good heart, and I love you more than anything.”

Red won’t fall to his knees and cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Blue wraps his arms around him.

“Would you just remember how to be my friend?”

Red bursts into tears and collapses into his shoulder, hugging his twin tight to his chest.

Anonymous asked: Jackie trust your brother, please.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jackie wails. “I’m so tired of being scared all the time!”

“I know, I know. Just come with me. Come on.”

“Blue, you’re shaking so badly…”

“Almost there, now, almost there.”

Anonymous asked: uhuh okay, this is a thing now. Marvin you’re gonna have to act quick to even get to Genesis while Anti’s not paying attention. But there’s no way you’re getting to her in this state...oh gosh, Red will you wake up please and get Marvin to Genisis?

“I’m going to call for her friends first,” says Blue, and Red looks up in shock, but does not protest. “I don’t know how to protect here. Oh, fuck, this is… a lot of power.”

Anonymous asked: blue ik you're not feeling great but maybe just get this moving? doesn't matter what you recite, just whatever you can remember. then just rest i think.

Blue stumbles, beginning to shake hard, his hands aching terribly. The blue light has reignited in his chest.

“Get moving, get moving,” he chants, keeping on up. “Doesn’t matter what you recite… with fists raised, white teeth gritted, my body like a soldier’s knitted… I took from the world what suffering it offered me and let it ricochet through me…”

nikkilbook asked: Does it matter to you that you’ve had to become this? That you’ve had to push away your brothers and be only what Anti says you must be? You said we were right about you not caring about them, that it didn’t matter, but does it matter /to you/?

“Yes,” croaks Red, following him. He recognizes the poem Blue chants, but can’t remember where from. “Yes, that… I… I used to be somebody different…”

The moonlight casts Blue in silver.

“I used to be a protector…”

Nikkilbook asked: It happened long ago—I remember it still— I was hewn down at the holt’s end stirred from my stock. Strong foes seized me there, worked in me an awful spectacle, ordered me to heave up their criminals. Those warriors bore me on their shoulders until they set me down upon a mountain. Enemies enough fastened me there. (1/) Often alone, every daybreak, I must bewail my cares. There is now no one living to whom I dare articulate my mind’s grasp. I know as truth that it is a noble custom for a man to enchain his spirit’s close, to hold his hoarded coffer, think what he will. Just as I must fasten in fetters my heart’s ken, often wretched, deprived of my homeland, far from freeborn kindred, since years ago I gathered my gold-friend in the earthen gloom, and went forth from there abjected. (/2)

“Often wretched,” whispers Blue. “Deprived of my homeland… my gold-friend in earthen gloom…”

His eyes glow blue.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Keep going, Marv!!

Blue clutches at his chest. His shoulders shake so hard he is losing his ability to recite.

He has not cast in a very, very long time.

Magic slathers his throat in fire and he chokes, trying to breathe, trying to regulate. He wants to cast, but he doesn’t want to fucking explode.

“Get a grip, Blue, get a grip,” he pants. “I can do this, I can do this…”

Anonymous asked: Be mad, Jackie. Be furious.

“I am mad!” shouts Red, taking another step up the mountain. “I am, I am!”

“That’s my brother!”

“I’m mad that I did what I told him! I’m mad that I wasn’t enough for him! I’m mad that I can’t keep anyone I love safe.”

“Red - Red. Don’t… you don’t have to do that. You - here, try after me. ‘Whose broken window is a work of art!’“

Red leans back his head and shouts. “Whose broken window is a work of art!”

“Success, that winks aware as elegance, as treasonable faith!”

“As treasonable fucking faith! I’m mad he hit me! I’m mad he chained me up! I’m mad my heart still loves him but I’m more mad he lead me to murder and fucking abuse! I’m mad this is the life I’m living! I’m mad we’re not at the top of this goddamn mountain yet!”

He scoops Blue up into his arms, drawing a shout half of surprise and half of amusement out of his shaking brother, and heads up the mountain with him, his feet sure and certain.

bupine asked: red. think about everything you just said about anti and realize how fucked up that all is. if we told you that, hypothetically, there was a way to get away from anti and be free again, would you take it? out of pure curiosity of course

“I want to go home,” wails Red. “But I can’t remember where it is, or even much of who it is, not anymore, and I don’t myself, not for an instant, and someone else is standing in my skin.”

“There, there,” coughs Blue. “You’re getting it, you’re getting it…”

Pixie-in-trebleland asked: Genesis? Um, important question, but is it possible for your magic to be taken out from you? Marvin just had an encounter with Anti and he's saying all his warmth is gone. Cest-mellow and anon asked similar questions and were added.

Genesis looks barely awake.

“Black, black, black,” she manages weakly. “That’s some black magic…”

bupine asked: recite a poem for us, please, blue! any one you remember at all

“Damn, I remember so many more than I thought I would!”

“We might have hit the poetry theme a little too hard.”

“The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea…”

“Blue, wait - too sad.”

“Something happier? For you, anything.”

Anonymous asked: "...Jackie? Are you okay? Please.. calm down. If you're waking up now isn't the time to be freaking out, alright..? Breathe. It.. It's gonna be okay." -PF!H

They reach the ridgeline of the mountain where the verdant green grass meets the dead dust of the barren side in silence.

The sky is a spinning top and it has no malevolence. Roses wrap up Blue’s fingers, silver and ruby, as a blade from the side of a thing still breathing.

Blue kneels on the ridgeline, his eyes closed. Beneath his skin, blue light - ethereal, illuminating, breathing against the frail cage of his bones.

“Blue?”

He does not cast, does not cast, does not cast.

“Blue? Blue? Pain, Blue? Are you okay, Blue? You shake. Blue!”

“Someone must come,” whispers Marvin. “Surely? As no one came on the beach that night, now, surely, salvation?”

The stars are laughing at him.

What was this? A moment’s idea? A girl’s suggestion? A shot in the dark, a moment of clarity?

“It’s the only chance I’ve had in a long time,” he whispers to the universe. “So here we are, accepting. Red, will you hold on to me? Red, will you hold me, please?”

Red listens. Red breathes. Red’s calm. Red trusts him.

“I’m right here.”

A promise.

“I’m right here.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Blue? Maybe tell Red and the rest of us your favourite poem! It might cheer you all up. Right, Red?

“Yeah,” whispers Red. His hands hold him steady. “Tell me your favorite poem, Blue.”

Blue clutches at the clean pure earth beneath his hands.

“A Clear Midnight,” he says. “By Walt Whitman.”

He wants Red to know what to carve onto his tombstone.

“This is thy hour, O soul. Thy free flight into the worldless. Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done. Thee fully forth emerging - ”

He stops short.

He can’t finish it.

He can’t control it.

He -

Pain -

Light -

Red?

Oxygen, flame, fuel, Marvin -

The green mountainside is on fire.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Jackie! Protect your brother! What's happening?

In the first five seconds -

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five -

Red is swallowed whole with a scream.

Not by fire -

Fire consumes the green side of the mountain -

But by plant life.

He screams as verdant green trees explode from the earth, breathing into life with their arms full of leaves. Grass chokes up around his feet, tangling around his legs all the way up to his chest and tearing him to the ground, where bramble and flowers begin to crawl over his chest, eating him alive faster than he can tear them off.

He howls as loud as he can, trying to scramble forward for his brother, but he is swallowed up in lily, basil, thicket, root, crushing harder and harder against his chest, pushing him down into the earth as the explosion of life pours off down the mountainside like thick dark alcohol from its container. He can hear people screaming farther down the mountain, alarmed by the fire, which, interested in this new growth of plant life, creeps ever forward towards a more intimate relationship with the other half of Marvin’s power.

A dog is barking close to him, maybe afraid. As he tears blood and bush from his eyes, he catches sight of Blue crumpled, unmoving, on the ridge of the mountain, his little blue t-shirt burning. He screams.

Hot breaths pant against his face as the dog finds him, and he recognizes, with an emotion he cannot name nor bear, his little brother. “Anti!” he screams. “Blue, Blue, my twin!”

A cactus bursts up through Red’s flesh and he screams. Anti, undaunted, bends his dog’s teeth down and tears the thing to shreds, taking the great weeping spikes of the cactus into his own snout. A moment later he is dragging Red out by the sweatshirt and sending him -

“Anti, wait!”

- careening down a harsh cut-off on the side of the mountain. Red yells as he rolls hard down the mountain, rocks and glass cutting into his face, dust filling up his lungs, until he slams down into a valley that is rapidly filling up with green.

He lies there for a good five minutes, too stunned to move, before he begins to cry, blood running rapidly down his face. He can hear yelling all around him and when he can clear the red from his eyes, he can see his little house a few meters away, with Trick and Dok shouting his name, unable to see him in the dark.

“Trickshot!” he wails, coughing as his ribs ache. He fears the trees have shattered them. “Doktor!”

They find him in the dark and haul him back towards the house, demanding to know what happened, but he is too dazed to explain, fixed too completely on the ridge of the mountain.

“Where’s Blue?” cries Dok.

“Still up there!”

“Red, come back to the house, Anti will save him.”

“The house will be swallowed up by the plants too, look, it’s spreading down the whole mountain!”

Shrill whistling alerts them to Dapper tugging on the door of the shed, watching through a crack in the door as grass begins to fill up Genesis’s prison.

“She’ll die in there,” warns Trick.

Dok sets Red on the ground. “Use your gun to smash the lock open.”

“No time,” calls a rasping voice from above them.

Trick drops his gun, his hands suddenly shaking too hard to support him, and crashes back into Dok, who pulls him away with low, desperate reassurances. Dapper picks anxiously at his clothes, straightening out as best he can, casting glances back at Red, who, distressed, can only stare up at the figure coming down the mountain.

Anti drags Marvin’s exhausted body along like a marionette, ignoring fleshless hands and a chest burned red with fire. His eyes are black as untouched ink, and his teeth all too white, until blood comes trickling down his bottom lip.

“Undo this!” screams Anti, and then he has Dapper by the throat, dragging him towards the fire as a threat. “Undo this, now!”

Dapper is frantic, hysterical, clutching at his throat.

“Turn it back, Dapper! Now! Dapper!”

He throws Dapper to the ground and Dapper scrambles away, terrified, his eyes flickering in every direction.

“Anti, Anti, Anti,” he signs, but with a frantic edge Red doesn’t recognize. “J-happy, H-healing, C-love, help me!”

“He’s having an episode, he can’t tell what’s going on, he’s afraid of the fire!” wails Dok, reaching out for his little brother. “He’s scared, stop, he can’t do it! Please, Anti!”

Anti screams his frustration and drives a kick right into Dapper’s nose before whirling on Red, leaving his time traveler writhing in the grass.

“What were you thinking?” Anti pants, his voice losing vigor rapidly as he realizes the magnitude - the irreversibility - of what’s happened. “What were you thinking? Red? Red?”

“Oh, fuck,” whispers Red, closing his eyes and opening again, closing his eyes and opening again, praying for it to go away.

“Look what you’ve done to your twin.”

“I - I - ”

Anti limps towards him in the spreading grass, one long white finger, cloaked in a rose ring, stretched out before him.

“You’ll atone for this,” he swears, pointing at Red. “You’ll pay for this, little hero. I’ll make you repair the wrongdoing with your own hands.”

“Anything - A-anti, anything, just - don’t punish him, I - ”

“Pack your bags,” coughs Anti, turning away from him, tearing off the last of Marvin’s shirt. Genesis catches sight of a shoulder inked with a dark bird. “We’re leaving, now. Red and Blue have summoned monsters to us, and we have little time if we are to remain together. If the magicians catch you, they will kill you, for they know nothing of what I am or what I can do, and they will give you up for hopeless cases once they realize you are my family, not just my slaves. And Trick?”

“Yes?”

Anti stalks towards the house, tearing off jewelry. “Kill that fucking girl.”

Anonymous asked: Anti keeping the girl alive will give you some leverage if the magicians catch up with you. If you kill your hostage, nothing will stop them.

“I’ll fucking stop them,” he snarls. “How about that? That girl inspired this stupid, pretentious, pandering, whiny, brattish little coward to give off a display like that? She should be grateful I don’t have time to tar and feather her.”

immabethehero asked: GENESIS LOOK OUT!!! Trick's been sent to kill you! He doesn't have magic, but he dooes have a gun!!!

The door to the shed must be shoved open - grass is growing thick along the floor.

But peaceful, almost.

A peaceful wave of green, past its initial moment of horror, like a violent birth that leads to a cheerful, pretty baby for Trick to clean up and present to a new mother, pressing her warm infant head into the hands of a loving parent, eyes wide with adoration.

Trick swallows.

Babies and murder are not a good mental combination.

He hoists that heavy gun.

Genesis is tired.

She thinks she might be dying.

Fatigue like she’s never felt before keeps her gaze trained on the ground, her dark face now sallow and pale.

The light of Trick’s sniper finds her forehead.

“Going to kill me?” she asks. Slowly.

Trick doesn’t answer.

She can hear his fingers readjusting on the gun.

“Are you a marksman or what?” She itches her chin gently along her collarbone, trying to flake off dried blood. “I’m an easy target.”

Still she does not die.

She can hear sobbing from not far off. She thinks the one in the vest, the one who carved her, has been left crying in the grass outside.

“You must not want to,” she says, closing her eyes.

Trick hisses through his teeth.

“I want my family to be safe,” he snaps, cocking the gun. “My brothers and I are sick of running from people like you.”

“This story he tells you, of everyone after you, of him the only one who could hide you… it is a lie.”

“You don’t know anything. You don’t know anything about my family. About what’s happening.”

His voice shakes like it could break. She wants to make a joke about it, but she hears Emmanuela’s voice in her head, begging her for just once in her life, just a little bit of caution. A little bit of earnesty.

“Don’t kill me, you poor sap,” she manages, with a deep sigh. “Just take this knife out of my hand and I’ll be gone.”

“What?”

“Your blue boy sets things on fire, the mustache one travels time, I disappear and go home… it’s not hard. Just take the knife out. I can’t go with my hand pinned, can I?”

He stares at her, eyes wide behind a scope he doesn’t need at point blank. A little of Dapper’s blood drips down his hands. Anti pulled him away when he tried to help him get up.

“Don’t kill me, tired man. I promise you, me and mine will find a way to return the favor. Don’t you have a brother you love? The one you were talking to for so long? A doctor, a healer? Would he want you to kill me?”

“Don’t,” snarls Trick, in that shaking, aching voice. “He knows what I am. He’s the only one who knows what I am. Who I am.”

She’s so tired.

The star on her face no longer bleeds.

“Well,” she says. “Who are you?”

 End Section Six of Chapter Two.

Find the next section here.

[snowbellewells]

A Litter More Than They Bargained For

{Oh my goodness, this event has just been a joy, and I have loved every entry I’ve gotten a chance to read so far.  I’m excited to add mine to the list, and hope that you all will enjoy.  Thanks so much to all the lovely ladies on the @cspupstravaganza Discord chat, particularly @shireness-says  @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan  @kmomof4 and @darkcolinodonorgasm, for all of the amazing dog name suggestions - I put a fair few of them to use here! ;)  Also, @profdanglaisstuff thank you bringing us such a fun event!!}

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

by: @snowbellewells

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Killian chuckled goodnaturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she excited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?”  Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if it might be some sort of elaborate joke being played at her expense.

Then, she plunked her head down to rest on her arms where they were crossed on the table, sighing as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected.  On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done, even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son then grew thoughtful for a moment, as if mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all?  Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, an expression Killian quickly mirrored, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a soft kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again, annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question. 

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place. 

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few others who may enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @thislassishooked @spartanguard 

[enricodandolo]

Venusberg (Mass Effect: Andromeda; Rydercest)

Zu Gottes Preis in hoch erhabne Fernen,

blickt auf zum Himmel, blickt auf zu seinen Sternen!

Anbetung solchen Wundern zollt,

da ihr sie nicht begreifen sollt!

Doch was sich der Berührung beuget,

euch Herz und Sinnen nahe liegt,

was sich, aus gleichem Stoff erzeuget,

in weicher Formung an euch schmiegt, -

dem ziemt Genuss in freud'gem Triebe,

und im Genuss nur kenn' ich Liebe!

 She awoke some time before her alarm, the bright sunlight uncomfortably hot on her face. They hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains and the tinted windows overlooking downtown Armstrong, though filtering out harmful UV radiation, did little to shield them from visible light. She yawned, drew the somewhat clammy blanket up to her ears, rolled over and nestled closer to her partner, nuzzling up to his shoulder. His skin was hot against hers, his smell comfortingly familiar. The sun warmed her bare back through the blanket.

Sara didn’t have long to enjoy the peace and quiet. No sooner had she made herself comfortable than the omni-tool on her nightstand began blasting out Wagner. Freudig begrüßen wir die edle Halle … Groaning, she stirred, rolled off her partner’s body and grasped blindly for the tool. “Alright, alright,” she muttered, blinded by the pure white sunlight falling into her eyes, “’m awake …” She managed to stop the alarm a dozen measures in, turning the music down to a more reasonable volume. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she sat up in bed, the blanket pooling around her waist, stretched.

Once she had regained the use of her faculties and knew where, when and who she was, she glanced over at the man lying by her side. She could not stop a smile from creeping over her face. He was still fast asleep, all the efforts of Landgrave Hermann notwithstanding, curled up and clinging to the blanket. Sara leant closer. His mouth was very slightly open, his breathing slow and steady. For a moment, she watched him, following the curve of his shoulder blade, the tendons of his neck, the shadowed line of his jaw. She knew every inch of his body as well as her own, but never did she fail to be entranced, nor did her heart ever fail to leap when she saw him like this.

Having stolen this moment from him, she leaned down to kiss him. “Wakey, wakey,” she murmured into his brow. “You don’t wanna sleep in today.” He merely turned away with a groan and clung more tightly to the blanket. Sara rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself.” She strapped on her omni-tool, then got out of bed.

The sprawling suite at the Ritz-Astoria overlooking Tranquillity Base had cost them most of their remaining life savings, not that either of them had had a great deal left. Sara was pretty sure they’d drank the remainder last night, toasting a new future with a 1969 Gevrey-Chambertin. Might as well go for the novelty factor.

She walked over to the window, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet like heavy boots in the lunar regolith, and turned up the filters to dim the light. Tranquillity Base stuck out like a sore thumb, a domed-over patch of grey dust amidst the urban sprawl of downtown Armstrong. They’d seen the site before, mingling among tourists, Alliance recruits and bored schoolchildren as they looked down unto the prosaic remains of humanity’s first bumbling steps through the plexiglass floor that shielded flags and footprints. Yesterday, the place had been full of vaguely familiar faces, everywhere they’d looked had been the Initiative’s logo—excited would-be pioneers bathing in historicism. They’d glanced at each other. “Let’s get out of here.” They hadn’t actually gotten to see what they’d come for, but that was fine.  

Humming along to the music from her ‘tool, Sara moved into the bathroom, all gold and marble shipped from Earth and larger than her old flat on Arcturus. She had neglected to clean up after they had made love yesterday and was in dire need of a shower. She took her time, enjoying the hot steam and the rivulets of scalding water lashing her skin before dripping to the marble floor with that peculiar dancelike languor that seemed to define all movement in lunar gravity. Going by the projections, it sounded like it might be the last hot shower she’d have for quite some time. Just another point she hadn’t considered when agreeing to this foolhardy endeavour. The hotel shampoo smelled of citrus and Thessian spices; for a moment she considered pocketing it before remembering there was no point.

She exited the shower, dried her hair and set about the rest of her morning routine, making liberal use of the hotel toiletries and humming along to the music from her omni-tool all the while. When she exited the bathroom, she found her lover still fast asleep. Sara stilled in the doorway, taking a moment to watch him, smile on her lips. Typical. She couldn’t have pretended to be surprised, even on a day like this. At other times, she might have slipped back into bed to hold him, cherishing the rare opportunity to enjoy more than fleeting intimacy.

Instead, she rolled one of her wet towels up in a ball and hurled it at him.

Scott’s curse was muffled by drowsiness, but he bolted upright and tangled with the towel as though it had attempted to strangle him. Finally he freed himself and glared at her as best he could from half-lidded eyes. “Time to get up, sleepyhead,” she told him, smirking. “Shower’s free.”

“Could’ve just told me …” her brother grumbled and dragged himself out of bed. “No need to assault me.”

“You sleep any longer and we’re likely to miss our ride. Come on, little brother.” She caught him by the wrist as he shuffled past her towards the bathroom and leaned in to kiss him. “Good morning. You smell like shit, go shower.”

“Join me?”

“Mmhm. Next time.”

While Scott was in the bathroom, Sara got dressed in her Initiative uniform, still ill-fitting and smelling of plastics. Say what you liked about the Alliance; her navy blues had felt like a second skin. She doubted she’d ever be as comfortable in the white-and-red gear of the Pathfinder team. Just gotta sit it out, she told herself, the way they’d planned. Once things got settled in Andromeda, they’d have all the time in the world.

The clothes she’d worn yesterday (as well as the racy new lingerie she hadn’t), she folded up and left on the bedroom dresser with a note asking for the hotel staff to donate them to charity. She’d already checked in all the personal effects she’d take with her: a few changes of civilian clothes, a replica of the first Prothean potsherd she’d helped dig up, a broach that had belonged to mum, an OSD with recordings and various memories, and of course her violin in a vacuum-sealed case she’d been ensured would keep the wood from warping for at least six centuries. That last item had kinda put a limit on what else she could bring, honestly, but she wasn’t about to give up on her music.

That had been one of her conditions. She’d had a lot of those. Sara remembered that evening on the Citadel, at a Zakera Ward sushi restaurant, quite well. Neither of them had had any idea as to why they’d been ordered to attend (dad never asked) and they’d both expected the worst. Neither of them had expected a sales pitch. Start a new life in Andromeda. She had seen the rapture in Scott’s eyes as he listened to their dad and it had scared her.

They’d met up on the Presidium the next day, just her and Scott. When she saw him, she knew he’d been sold, and she hated—well, whom exactly? Him, never. Herself, their dad, the entire fucking universe? But she’d ground her teeth and argued and, in the end, relented. He’d looked as miserable as she’d felt.

By the time Scott left the bathroom, she was lounging on the couch, tapping her foot along to the music. She watched (well, leered) him scrounge up his clothes. “You want to have breakfast?” she tried, half-heartedly. “We could order room service.”

“They said not to eat anything before departure, remember?” Well, there went that idea.

She said nothing else for a while, not until her brother had finished dressing. He actually looked handsome in that cheap-ass plastic uniform, damn him. He regarded her as he zipped up his jacket, worry plain in his face. “You still having doubts about this?”

“I’m rather amazed that you aren’t.”

Scott sighed and shook his head. They’d had this conversation before, too many times. Then, he walked over to her and took her hands. “It’s not too late to back out,” he reminded her, gentle as ever. To him, it would never be too late, not until they actually locked him in his cryo pod.

She smiled at that. “It’s fine. I’ve made my choice.” Truth be told, she’d made it that day on the Presidium. They’d come into this galaxy together, after all. She wasn’t about to let Scott outlive her by six hundred years. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when this whole Initiative turns out to be a massive Ponzi scheme, though. Half the people on those arks are rich idiots with more money than sense, and Garson’s all too eager to have them carve out her own kingdom.”

“You’re such a cynic.” Scott chuckled. “Look, no one is saying this will go off without a hitch. It’ll be hard work, but in the end, it’ll be worth it, trust me. This is our chance. The moment things settle down over there, we’ll be free to go wherever we like. We’ll have a whole new galaxy to explore. None of this old shit holding us back anymore.”

How often had he painted that picture for her? The details differed—now a cabin in the mountains of Habitat 4, then a ship of their own charting the course beyond Heleus, then a beachfront villa on Habitat 7—but always, always, always they were together. The more excited he got, the less she wanted to object. We won’t be alone. Dad will be there. Nothing will change. They would still have to hide, as they had their entire lives.

She couldn’t blame Scott for wanting to try something, anything, to change that.

Anything she might have said stuck in her throat, so she kissed him. “I’ve really enjoyed these past two months,” she told him. “Thank you for that.” They had spent the weeks leading up to the arks’ departure together, longer than they’d ever had to themselves but always paranoid about being found out. As far as dad was concerned, they’d taken each other to some of their favourite places on Earth, one last pilgrimage before they left home forever.

Each had made three choices and agreed to humour the other’s: for Scott, they’d raved in Chennai nightclubs, gotten front-row seats to a Seattle Sorcerers game, and seen the aurora australis from the Transantarctic Mountains. For her, they’d gone hiking in the Hindukush, scouring the Vatican Museums, and she’d gotten her hands on two tickets for Tristan und Isolde at the Bayreuth Festival. For that last one, Scott had even refrained from making any snide comments about the music, though she had found him asleep when she tried to hold his hand in the darkness of the Festspielhaus. O sink hernieder, Nacht der Liebe. Still, they’d walked down the festival hill hand in hand, her usual caution dead in the dark of night, and clung to one another until hateful break of day.

“You’re scared,” Scott said, quietly.

Scared? Perhaps she was, at that. She wasn’t worried that the cryostasis would fail, or that Garson and her stooges would dump them all overboard the moment they’d gone to sleep. She wasn’t even scared of leaving behind everything she’d ever known for an uncertain future. “I want this to be our future,” she told her brother. “Not something dad chose for us. Not something we just fell into because it was the path of least resistance. That whole pathfinder thing, the AI, those fucking implants … every step just makes me feel more like a puppet. This whole Andromeda thing is supposed to be about freedom, a fresh start. How do you see us ever getting our fresh start if we’re dragging all our baggage with us from the Milky Way?”

“I don’t know, frankly. But I know it’ll be better than this. New galaxy, new rules, right?”

“Dad’s going to kill us when he finds out.”

“Fuck dad. Fuck all of them.” The outburst took her aback. She wasn’t used to Scott losing his cool. “This is us. No one else gets a say in this. No one.” He paused. A fire had lit up in his eyes. When he continued, his voice was gentle once more. “I love you, Sara. You want to stay, I’ll stay with you. But I’m sick and tired of hiding all the time. Whether here or in Andromeda, it’s high time for us to come out and face the music. And we’re gonna do it together.”

It was a well-practised speech, one she had heard before many times, in many different forms. Sometimes, it had moved her to tears, other times she had laughed it off. Now, she could not but wonder. She tried to imagine the two of them standing in front of their father—no, no, not that. Much better not to dwell on that. Think rather of what would come after (assuming they survived). That log cabin on Habitat 4, those white beaches on Habitat 7, but always: Scott, Scott, Scott, and her always by his side, the way it should be. Waking up together (ish) every morning, going to sleep together (ish) every night, all the things they could never have in the Milky Way.

Children? Why the hell not? It wasn’t as though they wouldn’t have genetic engineers in Andromeda. In fact, the Initiative had insisted on administering additional gene therapy to the Pathfinder teams along their AI implants, in addition to that they had received in-utero and in the Alliance. Little Scotts and little Saras, born into a new world their parents had forged for them … She glanced at her sweet, brash fool of a twin, heart melting. Well, maybe that would be something to consider, at least when they were a bit older and things in Andromeda had settled down.

“Scott?” she asked, softly, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Promise me this, okay?”

“Anything,” he responded at once, then added, in pretend hesitation. “This isn’t gonna be like our 14th—”

She had to laugh. “No, you dork. Come on, I’m trying to have a heartfelt moment here, alright?”

Scott smiled up at her, laid a warm, tender hand upon hers. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Promise me we’ll always be together.”

“Always. I promise.”

  It was never supposed to be like this.

She hides her thoughts, her feelings, from the spy inside her brain, the voice that will not shut up. “You promised,” she whispers, voice choked as she holds her twin’s hand. She wants to bed her head on his chest, hear his heartbeat, but there are always people watching. She wants to kiss her prince awake or share in his slumber, wants to feel him once again, but it is always watching. She wants to spend eternity by his bedside, but she cannot shirk her duties. Lives depend on her—their future depends on her. “You promised …”

She lets go off his hand, dries her tears, and shoulders her violin. She can do this for him, at least, she tells herself, as if he’d care. This is for her. Something from Tannhäuser, perhaps. Yes, that’ll do nicely.

   Dir, Göttin der Liebe, soll mein Lied ertönen, gesungen laut sei jetzt dein Preis von mir! Dein süßer Reiz ist Quelle alles Schönen, und jedes holde Wunder stammt von dir! Wer dich mit Glut in seine Arme geschlossen, was Liebe ist, kennt der, nur der allein! Armsel'ge, die ihr Liebe nie genossen, zieht hin! Zieht in den Berg der Venus ein!

[guernsey-island]

Please answer 1-98 >:3

Weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?      water bottles 2. chocolate bars or lollipops?      chocolate bars 3. bubblegum or cotton candy?      cotton candy, though I don't like either very much 4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?      I don't know 5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?      plastic cups??? 6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?      sportswear I guess 7. earbuds or headphones?      I only have earbuds right now, but I like both 8. movies or tv shows?      tv shows, but that doesn't mean I don't like movies too 9. favorite smell in the summer?      the ocean 10. game you were best at in p.e.?      capture the flag 11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?      whatever I can find 12. name of your favorite playlist?      "Good Songs :D" 13. lanyard or key ring?      key ring 14. favorite non-chocolate candy?      I don't particularly like any non-chocolate candy. Too artificial and sweet :/ 15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?      Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes 16. most comfortable position to sit in?      leaning back and with my legs out 17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?      white converse 18. ideal weather?      raining or a mild temperature like 80 degrees F paired with high humidity 19. sleeping position?      I fall asleep on my side and wake up on my back 20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?      Google docs heheh 21. obsession from childhood?      I was one of those warrior cats kids (no, I didn't pretend to be warrior cats at recess) 22. role model?      Snickers 23. strange habits?      popping my back, checking sunset/sunrise times 24. favorite crystal?     all crystals are great 25. first song you remember hearing?      Counting Stars by OneRepublic 26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?      hiking 27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?      reading 28. five songs to describe you?      Modern Loneliness- Lauv // Scared of Heights- Loving Caliber // backpack- slchld // By Now- Will Jay // Come True- khai dreams, Forrest., Biskwiq 29. best way to bond with you?      don't annoy me 30. places that you find sacred?      the beach when no one is there or deep in the mountains 31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?      ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 32. top five favorite vines?      road work ahead, jared 19, damn daniel, 2 bros chillin in a hot tub, x files theme 33. most used phrase in your phone?      probably >:3 34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?      that spotify ad about peter and jumping/skipping rope. IF you knew what an 8track tape was!! 35. average time you fall asleep?      ~2:30am 36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?      the pepe the frog memes 37. suitcase or duffel bag?      suitcase 38. lemonade or tea?      lemonade but tea is also superb 39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?      lemon cake bc I've never had lemon meringue pie 40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?      I don't really remember. Let's go with Mr. Rightmyer and Mr. Mikow in general (ig matrix_multiplication). or maybe the time Sami put a lamp on her head and pretended to be Shaggy 41. last person you texted?      Snickers 42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?      jacket pockets 43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?      hoodie 44. favorite scent for soap?      hmmm something tropical 45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?      sci-fi 46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?      clothing 47. favorite type of cheese?      swiss or colby jack or parmigiano-reggiano 48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?      peaches bc they're the best fruit 49. what saying or quote do you live by?      "you become what you think about" "success is the progressive realization of a worthy goal or ideal"- Earl Nightingale "the opposite of courage is not cowardice, it is conformity" "sanity and happiness are an impossible combination"- Mark Twain "If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading"- Lao Tzu "failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough" - Og Mandino 50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?      let's go with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TilHylia7rE and more recently, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voncdcV648g 51. current stresses?      upcoming exams, writing essays 52. favorite font?      My current favorites are Frank Ruhl Libre, Overlock, and Rajdhani 53. what is the current state of your hands?      good, though I perpetually have a bump on one finger from writing too much 54. what did you learn from your first job?      job?? what job? 55. favorite fairy tale?      three little pigs 56. favorite tradition?      sleeping 57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?      I don't know 58. four talents you’re proud of having?      Freestyling (ground moves and juggling), shooting knuckleballs, popping my back really well, running a 5-6 minute mile 59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?      I don’t know what my catchphrase would be 60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?      a shonen where the protagonist is trying to survive in a crazy world, become the best at something, or master some special power (examples: tower of god or solo leveling if it was an anime) OR something with a mafia 61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?      "Well, if you only knew how little I really know about the things that matter"- Elio in cmbyn the movie (think about this quote all the time) "Let us cultivate our garden"-Candide in Candide by Voltaire “The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.”- Sinclair in Demian by Hermann Hesse “I wanted only to live in accord with the promptings which came from my true self. Why was that so very difficult?”- Sinclair in Demain by Hermann Hesse “Know yourself and go in swinging.”- More than this by Patrick Ness “Just leave me alone. I’m not myself. I’m falling apart, and I don’t want you here.”- Charlie in Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes Tons of quotes and references from Arthur, httyd, and other media 62. seven characters you relate to?      Lance (vld), zuko (atla), okonkwo (things fall apart), nwoye (things fall apart), bokuto (haikyuu), sinclair (demian), hiccup (httyd) 63. five songs that would play in your club?      Wednesday Girl- Elijah Who, Aso, Peachy!, Kudasaibeats, slchld // Way Back Home- SHAUN, Conor Maynard, Sam Feldt // Let Me Down Slow (Acoustic)- New Hope Club // Crush Culture- Conan Gray // All Night Long- TAEYEON, LUCAS 64. favorite website from your childhood?      animal jam 65. any permanent scars?      I have a ton of scars on my legs and knees. I ran into a cart at staples once and have a big scar from that. I have a few scars on my elbows too 66. favorite flower(s)?      columbine (CO state flower) 67. good luck charms?      none 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?      I have no idea 69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?      I don’t know 70. left or right handed?       right 71. least favorite pattern?      cheetah or zebra print 72. worst subject?      hmmm biology but only bc I don't put in the effort 73. favorite weird flavor combo?      I don't know. I like food 74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?      I don't think I've experienced enough pain to accurately answer this question. I've only taken ibuprofen once (when I got my wisdom teeth taken out), but I didn't think it was that necessary to take 75. when did you lose your first tooth?      probably when I was six 76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?      scalloped potatoes, hash browns, Spanish tortillas, potato salad, mashed potatoes 77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?      aloe vera 78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?      sushi from a grocery store 79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?      school ID 80. earth tones or jewel tones?      earth tones 81. fireflies or lightning bugs?      they're called fireflies 82. pc or console?      pc 83. writing or drawing?      writing 84. podcasts or talk radio?      podcasts 84. barbie or polly pocket?      no 85. fairy tales or mythology?      mythology 86. cookies or cupcakes?      cookies 87. your greatest fear?      Accidentally biting off my tongue and then choking on it, seeing things in mirrors, being stabbed with a knife as I enter a hotel elevator, receiving emails 88. your greatest wish?      Happiness??? I don’t know 89. who would you put before everyone else?      Snickers 90. luckiest mistake?      I don't know 91. boxes or bags?      boxes 92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?      sunlight 93. nicknames?      let's not talk abt that,,, 94. favorite season?      spring or summer 95. favorite app on your phone?      google play books, goodreads, tumblr, kakaotalk, spotify, google keep 96. desktop background?      it's a slideshow. the background at the moment is a photo of Manarola, Italy taken by Peter Hegedus. It's one of my favorite photographs of all time 97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?      three not including 911 (so four) 98. favorite historical era?     1300s in the Mongol empire or around when the spice trade was at its peak, 1800s in America during westward expansion, 1920s, ancient egypt, Harlem Renaissance 

[hermannsthumb]

Would you be able to do #45 about taking you home for the holidays but now family thinks we're dating?

45. your family ditches you for the holiday so i take you home with me, except my family thinks we’re dating now, and i don’t know how to tell them that we’re not

from winter writing prompts here

YES I WOULD B HAPPY TO

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

“I can’t promise it’ll be very fun,” Hermann says. “You’ve met my family.”

“Like, barely,” Newt says. He’s met Hermann’s dickish older brother, and Hermann’s terrifying dad, both at the same PPDC banquet ages ago, back before they lost funding, and he doesn’t think he made a very good impression on either. (The shouting he did probably didn’t help his favor much. Nor the threatening.) The rest of them--the other two siblings, and a mom who must have at least a little bit of a cold streak in her to reproduce with Dr. Gottlieb senior four fucking times--are nothing but dark-haired and pointy-cheeked enigmas to him. 

“Enough to know their sort,” Hermann says, a touch wryly. “It’ll be quite professional. Dinner. Cocktails. You’ll need to wear an, er, nicer tie. Perhaps a suit. Father will likely ask us about our work.”

“Sounds riveting,” Newt says.

Hermann sniffs. “You don’t have to come, you know. No one is forcing your hand.”

Which is true. What’s also true, though, is that when Newt phoned up his dad to excitedly inform him he’d be able to come home for the holidays for the first time in over five years, he was met with a short pause, and then an annoyingly knowing “But wouldn’t you rather spend it with your Hermann? Alone?”

“He’s not my anything,” Newt protested. “He’s just my--lab partner. And roommate.”

It fell on deaf ears, though: somehow Newt’s dad got it into his head that Newt had a thing for Hermann (which is totally ridiculous), and that Hermann had a thing for him too, and a holiday, alone, together, was all they needed to work out their feelings, and he was sure he’d have a brand new genius son-in-law and even grandkids in no time. This was when Newt choked on air and almost dropped the phone.

“Grandkids?”

“I just want to see my son happy,” his dad finished.

So, no Geiszler-style Chrismukkah for Newt this year. Not even something lowkey with Hermann, like they used to do back in the Shatterdome. Newt’s dad’s plan backfired spectacularly: when Newt informed Hermann he was fresh out of things to do this year, Hermann immediately invited him to Gottlieb-style mostly-secular Hanukkah back in Germany with him, and the guy looked so relieved to not have to face it alone that Newt couldn't help but say yes.

He’s starting to regret it now. “I don’t think I have any nice ties,” he admits. “Or, uh, any suits, either.”

Hermann hmphs. “I suppose we’ll have to make a stop at the shops, then, before we head to the airport. Do finish packing. I don’t want to be late.”

“Sounds great,” Newt sighs.

The plane ride over is long and boring, broken only by a short layover in London; Hermann is zonked out on Ambien for most of it (“You gave me a raging headache last time we flew together,” he explained, “I need some quiet.”), so Newt has no choice but to poke through the uninteresting movie selection until he finally settles on some old rom-com. Then his earbuds are busted on one side, so he has to buzz a flight attendant for another pair, and by the time they manage to get them back to him the movie has automatically shut itself off and Newt has to restart. Fucking annoying. Whatever. 

Hermann’s youngest brother (Bastien, he thinks) meets them at the airport with his car. He’s smooth-faced and good-looking, with--as Newt expected--those same high cheekbones, that same dark hair. His, though, is curly in the way Newt’s only ever seen the ends of Hermann’s get when it’s damp. “Dr. Geiszler,” he says, giving Newt a firm handshake, then, in Hermann’s funny dialect of German, “It’s good to meet you. We’ve heard much about you.”

Good things, Newt hopes. But probably not. Whatever horror stories Hermann relayed over the years--messy laboratories, chunks of rotting aliens everywhere, a tendency to play electric guitar at four in the morning--would only have fed the fire that Newt stoked to life when he tried to throw a mimosa in Lars Gottlieb’s face all those years ago. This was a bad idea. “Uh,” Newt says. “Howdy.”

Hermann receives a small clap on the shoulder. He’s shorter than Bastien, Newt notices. How...cute. “Hermann,” Bastien says.

“Hello,” Hermann says.

They drive over in silence, Hermann and his brother in the front, Newt crammed in with the luggage in the back. It’s very scenic. Like some old-timey sort of painting. Snow and rolling hills everywhere. “What’s your house like, Hermann?” he says, as they pass what looks like a old barn.

“Old,” Hermann says, disinterestedly. He’s playing some sort of puzzle game on his phone. “Large. Bloody drafty, too--I’ll need my heating pad, or I’ll wake up stiff every morning.”

Newt hides his snicker behind his hand.

“My leg,” Hermann says, and turns in his seat just to roll his eyes at Newt.

“Mother made sure to put extra blankets on your bed,” Bastien says, conversation apparently flying right over his head.

“Oh,” Hermann says. He blinks. “That’s...good of her. Will Newton be in the guest room, then?”

Bastien gives him a strange look. “The guest room?” he says. Then, with a sort of bewilderingly knowing tone of voice, “We’re not children anymore, Hermann.”

“...Right?” Hermann says.

They have a small moment to themselves as Bastien--kindly--carries their luggage inside, and Newt tucks Hermann’s arm under his to help him navigate the iced-over old walking path. Newt means to ask about whether or not Bastien is always that weird, or if Newt’s German is rusty and things were just getting lost in translation, but Hermann surprises him by squeezing his hand in that way that means he’s nervous. He’s gotten better at reading Hermann’s tics and body language since the drift. “You look nice,” Hermann murmurs. (Hermann Gottlieb, complimenting him?) “I’m glad you chose the blue suit. It--”

“Suits me?” Newt jokes.

Hermann doesn’t laugh. “I won’t bother telling you to be on your best behavior,” he says, “because, quite frankly, I don’t care, and I know you won’t be anyway.”

“That’s true.”

“Just--please do try to stay by my side,” Hermann says. “You’ll make it remarkably easier for me.” He squeezes Newt’s hand again. Newt gives him a small smile.

“Of course,” he says.

Easier said than done, really. The second they step inside, Hermann is whisked off to the kitchen by Bastien to--evidently--be presented to his mother, and Newt is left alone in a small sitting room with the oldest brother he also shouted at all those years ago and a woman who can only be the sole Gottlieb sister.

They both stare at him. The oldest one narrows his eyes.

“Hey, guys,” Newt says, in his piss-poor German. “Nice to...be here.”

“Dr. Geiszler,” Karla says. She’s holding a glass of something amber. Probably some sort of whiskey. She takes a long sip of it without looking away from Newt once. “You’re shorter than I expected. Though I suppose Hermann’s always liked them short.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He hasn’t been roasted in his mother tongue in some time, not since one time when Hermann was really mad at him and English just wouldn’t suffice. He can’t say he missed it. If that’s what this is, anyway. “Thanks?”

“Geiszler,” Hermann’s older brother--Newt thinks his name is Dietrich--echoes thoughtfully. Recognition flits across his face; he stands from his armchair. “Geiszler. You’re the little prick Hermann betrayed our--”

“Newton is the little prick who helped save the world while our father was busy funneling millions into a pile of bricks,” Hermann says, suddenly materializing at Newt’s side from nowhere with a hand at his shoulder. “He is also he is here as my guest, I might add, so I would appreciate it if you treated him with the respect he deserves.”

Hermann’s brother sits back down.

“He’s still short,” Karla says.

Bastien is enlisted to show them up to Hermann’s childhood bedroom, hidden in the back of a very long hallway, and Hermann settles his suitcase down on the tiny twin bed with a small, mournful sigh. “Cold as ever,” he says. Newt happens to agree. “It’s like the bloody Arctic. I can’t understand it.” He plucks at the stack of blankets resting at the foot. “I suppose these’ll have to do.”

Newt’s suitcase is hefted onto the bed, too. Bastien wouldn’t let Newt carry it himself. (Hermann refused assistance.) “You should be able to fit comfortably. Hermann is nothing but skin and bones--he won’t take up too much space.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Fit?”

“On the bed,” Bastien says.

Newt and Hermann stare at him. “Ah,” Hermann says. “No.” Then, as if he’s explaining something to a small child, “Newton is sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

“I told you,” Bastien says, “we’re not children. Nobody expects him to.”

Expects him to? “I mean, I kinda expected to,” Newt says. 

Bastien touches both of their shoulders and gives them something that might be a smile, if you tilted your head and squinted a little. Guess it runs in the family. “We already know,” he says

Then he leaves. 

“Huh,” Newt says. “Hey, Hermann, I’m like, eighty percent sure they think we’re bang--”

“I know,” Hermann snaps. He groans, collapses onto the bed, buries his face in his hands. Newt shoves his own hands in his pockets awkwardly; he’s a little hurt Hermann’s this upset over the concept, to be honest. “But why?”

“Well, what did you tell them about me?” Newt says. There were plenty of rumors flying around about them after the end of the war, plenty of weird Buzzfeed articles ranking Newt’s haircuts and speculating on how platonic their living situation was, so he wouldn’t be surprised if (like Newt’s dad) Hermann’s siblings saw some of those and put two and two together and made five. Because it is platonic. Obviously. 

“That you’re a brilliant scientist,” Hermann says. “An--er--friend. Partner. That we live together. That we--with the kaiju’s brain--I know it’s classified, but it seemed important.” He groans again. “Oh, they’ll never believe me.”

Knowing Hermann, he probably did refer to Newt as his partner and not see how that could be misconstrued in anyway. “Then just don’t say anything,” Newt says. “I don’t mind it if you don’t.”

Hermann looks up sharply. “You don’t?”

Newt shrugs, going a little pink. He doesn’t think Hermann will notice. “There are worse things to be than your date. Can we eat dinner now? All I had all day was some pretzels on the flight.”

He holds out his hand to Hermann. Hermann takes it, staring strangely at him. “Alright,” he says.

[spockuhurashipper]

“A Risk Worth Taking” - Chapter 2 - Voight/Character Fanfic

Chapter One is posted here

Chapter Two

Layla walked into Molly’s and approached the bar, shedding her scarf and coat before sitting down.

“Layla!” Hermann’s voice rang out over the hum of the conversations and TVs playing around them. He hurried around the bar to give her a big hug. “How are you?”

“Hey Chris, I’m good. I need to be at home unpacking, I just had a rough day at work and figured I’d stop by for a drink.”

“Uh oh, did something happen?” Hermann asked, concern clouding his features.

“No.” She hesitated, “Well, kind of. I just stumbled on some case photos while I was in Intelligence and they brought up some memories. Got a little emotional.” Hermann nodded, sympathy in his eyes.”

“No one was there except the Sergeant but it was a little embarrassing. He was nice, though.” Layla added, remembering Voight’s sincerity when he said, “I’m sorry.” 

Layla noticed a flash of disdain cross her brother-in-law’s face. “What was that look?”

Hermann pressed his lips in a thin line, brows furrowed.

“Hank Voight is not nice. You need to steer clear of him.”

Layla stayed quiet, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Let me get you that drink,” and rounded the bar to pour her a glass of wine. 

“So are you and Cindy packed and ready for your weekend getaway?” Layla smiled, changing the subject. She was glad her sister and her husband were getting a much need, kid-free break.

“Yeah,” Hermann said, not able to hold back his smile. It made Layla smile too, thankful that he loved her older sister so much. “And listen, thanks again for offering to watch the little monsters. They’ve been putting together an itinerary of things for you all to do this weekend. I think it involves a lot of Minecraft.” 

His expression was apologetic causing Layla to giggle. “I’m happy to do it.”

Hermann got called away by an impatient customer at the other end of the bar, leaving Layla to her thoughts.

Cindy had been the one that encouraged Layla to come back home to Chicago after her husband Jake’s death. At first, Layla couldn’t imagine leaving their home and it’s memories. But after a year and a half, the house had started to feel like a prison. Every room held a memory that made her ache with sadness.

It had taken her almost six months to sell their house in North Carolina, but as soon as the papers were all signed, she was on a flight home.

Layla sighed and took a sip of her wine. It may be where she was from, but Chicago just didn’t feel like home anymore. If she was being honest with herself, nowhere really felt like home. Yes, she loved Cindy and Hermann and her niece and nephews, but she missed having a best friend in the way that only a spouse can be. Someone who knows all your flaws but still chooses you everyday. Someone you can lean on, confide in.

Layla finished her wine and was about to leave when Hermann called her over to a table against the wall. There was a young woman sitting there, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she smiled warmly when Layla approached.

“Like I said, Layla’s just moved back home and doesn’t know that many people. I thought you two might hit it off.” Hermann looked so proud of himself that Layla ignored her embarrassed annoyance.

The woman extended her hand, “Hi, I’m Kim Burgess. Please,” she gestured towards the chair opposite her, “have a seat.”

Layla shook her hand, “Layla Martin. Nice to meet you,” and sat down.

Hermann went back to his duties and left the women sitting in an awkward silence.

“So Kim,” Layla grasped for topics to discuss, “what do you do?”

“I’m a police officer with the Intelligence Unit.” Kim beamed, proudly.

Layla’s face lit up in recognition, “Oh! I met your Sergeant today.” Kim looked confused so Layla explained. “I just started with the department’s IT team a few weeks ago. I was in your unit updating Sergeant Voight’s computer earlier tonight. I’ll actually be back tomorrow to finish the rest of the computers up there.”

“Oh, awesome! My computer has been giving me a lot of problems lately. We used to have a person on our unit that helped us out with them and since he left I just haven’t gotten around to submitting a work ticket to IT.”

“Well, I’ll be glad to take a look at it tomorrow while I’m installing the new traffic cam software.”

“Great, thanks!” Burgess said with a grateful nod, following it with a sip of her beer.

“Oh, you need a drink!” Kim said, realizing Layla was empty handed. She flagged Otis down and Layla ordered another glass of wine.

The two women spent the next hour getting to know each other. Kim told Layla about her past as a flight-attendant and how she ended up on the force, and Layla told Kim about her background, quickly moving through the sadder parts while highlighting her hopes about her new start in Chicago.

The two were sitting in companionable silence, sipping their drinks, when Kim’s phone started buzzing on the table.

She gave Layla an apologetic look and answered, “Burgess. Hey Sarge. Okay, I’ll be right there.” She hung up and stood, pulling cash out of her pocket and leaving it on the table as she pulled her coat on.

“I’m sorry, Layla. It was really nice to meet you but we’ve got an update with our case so I gotta go in.” Layla understood and waved away her apology. 

“Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[demonsonthemoon]

Veni, Vedi - Chapter 6

Fandom: Pacific Rim Pairings: Eventual Newt/Hermann/Vanessa Word Count: 7091 Summary: Everything changed after they collapsed the Breach. Newt lost the thing he had dedicated his life to. Hermann lost all of his certainties, and gained a family. Vanessa found something to hope for again. And, somehow, all of their lives got tangled together.

Also available on AO3.

NEWT

Newt stared at Hermann in silence, smile frozen on his lips.

If you so despise my perfect little life, I suggest you walk out of it right now.

Newt had wanted to get a rise out of Hermann, to make him react. That was always what he was doing. Newt was aware of his own issues, to an extent, and so he knew of his self-destructive tendencies, and he knew that his favorite method of destruction had always been Hermann.

But this hadn't been what he truly wanted, he realised now. Because Hermann had the upper hand, like always. He had a way to cut him out. Maybe Hermann was as lost as Newt, even if it hurt him to admit it. But at least he didn't need him. There were other people that he could rely on.

Newt had dug this hole for himself, it was time to lie in it.

Instead of letting the fight escalate, he just stayed silent. Hermann stared him down for a few more seconds, then stormed out of the room.

Newt's muscles immediately relaxed, in an almost painful way. He could feel his whole body shake from the tension. Nervous laughter started bubbling inside his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure what – if anything – was funny, but he couldn't help himself. He muffled the giggles against one of his arms. The last thing he needed was for Hermann to come back inside and berate him for making light of the situation.

Maybe it was because of how ridiculous he and Hermann were acting. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous the whole human race seemed, scrabbling for meaning in a world that had tilted its axis. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous it felt to have his e-mail inbox filled with messages from various government agencies.

He hadn't really meant what he had said about Hermann's life. Actually, he thought bitterly, he was surprised it hadn't been obvious how jealous he felt of it. Hermann seemed able to fit into the patterns of his old existence with ease. Newt was just starting to realise how dangerous his tendency to burn every bridges he crossed could be.

He let his laughter turn into sobs, not caring as much anymore about whether the noises would get noticed or not. Let Hermann be disgusted with him. Let him blame it all on Newt's splendid personality, as he called it. Newt knew how to push people away. That was at least one thing he was still good at, in this now kaiju-less world.

He wiped at his eyes and closed his computer. The sleeve of his white shirt was wet with tears and snot. He sighed. He was quickly running out of clothes, what with only bringing one suitcase with him. Maybe he really should start looking for somewhere else to stay. Somewhere where he wouldn't feel like he was intruding. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to face Hermann.

Newt knew that Hermann wasn't okay, despite his façade. And he knew that it was his own fault. Because Hermann had accepted to drift with him, without time to weigh the consequences, and his perfect brain had been ruined in the process. Because Newt wasn't able to do things on his own like he was supposed to.

Newt stood up, put on a sweater and his jacket above his dirty shirt, and all but ran out of the apartment building.

Standing on the threshold, looking up at the home he had just left, Newt realised he hadn't been outside for three days. The air here tasted different than in Hong Kong. Colder. There were less people around, at least in this neighbourhood. Newt was quite happy about that, having made the realisation while on a bus to the airport that him and crowds didn't get along quite so well anymore. He had handled the incident like a champ, with only a minimal amount of screaming and just a tiny panic attack, but he wasn't eager to go for Round 2. He had had enough nightmares about Otachi already, he didn't need to seek them out in his waking life.

God, if Otachi had forever ruined concerts for him, he was going to be pissed.

Standing in the cold, Newt also realised he didn't really know where he was. He had taken the bus on his way here, sure, but couldn't even remember which direction he had come from. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and started walking anyway.

He groaned when his left leg started hurting after only a few hundred meters. He walked faster. That would teach his body what pain was his and what wasn't. He found a bus stop at some point. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking for and if the stop was the same one he had first arrived at, but he waited there anyway. He climbed in the first bus that came by, bought his ticket and sat down. He watched the city pass by for a while, then got off and took another bus.

He finally ended up near the Spreeinsel in Mitte. There were a few tourists there. Europe was far away from the Pacific and some of the people here were still able to enjoy the luxury of going on holidays. Still, it was far calmer than it would have been before the Kaiju War. There were more people sitting on sidewalks too, homeless and refugees.

Newt was slowly starting to realise how paradoxical the situation in Shatterdomes had been. He had been one of the people closest to the front line, had seen kaiju remains up close and walked through the destruction the creatures had caused. But he had no idea what the longterm consequences of this conflict had been. He had no idea how fucked the economy was, what measures which countries were taking, which governments were trying to send back refugees where they came from now that the threat had collapsed back into its own universe. For more than ten years he had been living in a small bubble of metal and hierarchy, and now he was facing the fall back to reality.

Wasn't this the exact thing he had told Hermann?

Newt groaned. His feet were hurting. It wasn't some kind of phantom drift-pain anymore, but the real-life, physical pain of walking for too long after months without exercise. He found an empty bench and sat down, looking at the Spree river.

The current was slow. He would probably be able to swim against it if he tried.

He probably shouldn't try.

It had been a long time since he had last swum, though. He could remember holidays with his mother, on the rare occasions where she would take him with her. He remembered golden beaches and warm water, so clear he could see tiny fish go past him. He remembered watching the dead bodies of jellyfish and prodding them with a stick.

He remembered waves hitting his legs, rain in his eyes, foreign smells and foreign colors all around him. He remembered being a kaiju.

Newt was angry. At Hermann, at himself, at the PPDC, at the governments, at the world at large and even at another universe. He was angry and frustrated and for once, just for once, he didn't feel like caring at all. He watched the Spree go its merry course, and let himself be carried away by the memories.

His body became massive, powerful instead of weak, stable instead of insecure. Newt could remember what it was like to never be alone, to have dozens of voices in his head all at the same time, to have hundreds of thoughts always running through his head and never lose track of one of them. He felt at home, surrounded by that hurricane of sound. More at home than in the silence he'd been living in in the last month, one he remembered from too much medication and a house that was empty at night.

A couple walked in front of him, and Newt bared his teeth. He was ready to fight if he had to. Fight for his right to live, for his right to exist. Fight because it was the only thing he knew how to do. Fight and destroy because that was the meaning behind being alive.

Again, he did not know how long he stayed there, watching the water. He did not know how much longer he would have stayed either if his phone hadn't started to ring, breaking the illusion and bringing him back to his tiny body and the coolness of a German evening.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

“Newt Geiszler?” he said, voice sluggish, as if the sounds were foreign to him.

“Newt? This is Vanessa.”

He froze. Why would she be calling him? Hermann had to have explained their arguments. Was she going to tell him that she had put his suitcase in the lobby, for him to pick up whenever he wanted? It wasn't Vanessa's style, not from what Newt knew of her. And she had been the one to offer he stay with them in the first place, so...

“Uh... Yes?” Eloquent. Nice.

“Listen. I know you two had a fight but... Hermann is acting... off.” She sounded genuinely worried, too much for Newt not to feel the same anxiety shoot up through him as well. “I can't get him to respond to me. At all. Could you... Could you come back? And see whether you can do something? I know it's a lot to ask. I'm sorry.”

“I'm on my way,” Newt replied, without having to think about it. He had been ready to leave since Vanessa had said something was wrong with Hermann. It was the way it was and the way it had always been. As much as he was angry with the man he knew he couldn't leave him on his own.

Even when Newt truly believed that he had come to hate Hermann Gottlieb, physics genius and writer of passionate e-mails, kindred spirit in a desert of intellectual desolation, absolute asshole with uptight manners and disdain written on his every feature, even when he truly believed he had come to hate Hermann, he had always been there to defend him and his theories. He had always been there to defend Hermann as a person too, to be honest. But that part he had tried to handle more discretely.

“Okay,” Vanessa said with a relieved sigh. “Okay.”

There was so much fear in her voice. Newt started running towards the closest bus stop. “He'll be fine, 'Nessa. We'll make sure he's fine. But you've got to hold on until I get there, okay? Stay with him. Keep talking to him.” Newt had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what was going on and how he was going to help. But he couldn't do nothing, not like the past two days. If this was going to be another war, he wasn't scared to go on the front line anymore. Or, more accurately, he was terrified, but he would do it anyway.

He also knew that Vanessa needed to feel useful. She needed something to do, or she would lose it. Newt felt bad to instinctively use this knowledge and manipulate her, but he thought the situation justified the means. “I'm hanging up now. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

He was out of breath as he finally reached the bus stop. He quickly googled the quickest itinerary, keeping an eye out for a potential cab in the meantime. He ended up taking a bus, an S-Bahn, then a second bus, and arrived at the Gottliebs' apartment exhausted and nervous.

He rang the bell and waited, shifting from foot to foot and shivering. Vanessa buzzed him in without even checking who was there, and he climbed the stairs two by two, ignoring the elevator altogether. He was out of breath when he finally knocked on the Gottliebs' door, and truly wondered whether he should take up jogging. Except he knew he wouldn't, because the choice between sports and more time to do science was really not even worth talking about.

Vanessa opened the door and immediately gestured for him to go into the living-room. Hermann was sitting on the couch/bed and staring out the window. The only reason they knew he was alive was the way his chest moved with every of his breath. He was perfectly still otherwise. The fact that he was sitting in the exact same way he had been with Newt when they had talked together about their nightmares was all too obvious, and Newt bit his lip. So it was his fault again.

He crouched down in front of Hermann and looked into his eyes. At least he was blinking, but there was no life in his gaze. Newt waved a hand in front of Hermann's face, frowning when the eyes didn't even catch on the movement. He looked up to Vanessa, who shook her head.

“I don't know what to do. He's been like that since I came back and I can't get him to respond.”

Newt nodded. The only logical response to this situation was panic.

“Hermann?” He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face. “Hey. You're freaking your wife out here, man. Actually, you're freaking me out too. Say something, come on!”

There was no response. Newt hadn't seriously expected one anyway.

VANESSA

Vanessa watched as Newt tried to get her husband to react, to no avail. Her arms were crossed around her chest, partly as a way to conceal her shaking hands.

Had she been wrong? Were Newt and Hermann really as unable to help each other as they seemed to think they were? Were they maybe even making each other worse? Had she made things worse? Was she going to have to watch her husband wither away in front of her, unable to help?

She couldn't think like that. She had to keep trying, and give Hermann and Newt a chance to keep trying as well. She had to believe in the bright future she wished for, if only because it seemed so impossible to realise right now. So many things had been impossible before and happened anyway. She couldn't give up now.

“I... I'm gonna make myself something to drink,” she said, looking for something to do that would occupy her hands. “Do you want some coffee?”

Newt looked up from where he was crouching on the floor. He forced his expression not to express any panic, and Vanessa was grateful, even if she saw through the facade. “Uh... Yeah. That would be nice. Thanks.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen. In the relative privacy, she forced herself to take deep breaths and try to calm down. Hermann had been fine earlier. A bit distant, defensive, but Vanessa had immediately understood why once she noticed that Newt had been gone. He'd explained that they'd had a fight, that Newt had stormed off, but he was confident that he would be back.

Vanessa had kissed him softly and then gone to take a nap, and once she had woken up she had found him frozen in place, eyes fixed on the horizon.

She started making coffee, and considered making herself an infusion instead, but decided against it. Coffee was comforting to her, and she needed everything that could help right now.

When she came back to the living-room with the two mugs, Newt was seated on the floor, one of Hermann's hands in his. He was looking at the pale skin like it might hold the answer to all of life's mysteries. Vanessa knew the feeling.

She put Newt's mug on the coffee table, then sat down in an armchair, watching the two men.

Newt nodded his thanks for the drink, but kept his eyes trained on Hermann.

“What happened exactly?” she asked. Hermann had only given her one side of the story, and without many details. She needed more, if she wanted to actually understand.

Newt didn't turn to look at her, as if ashamed to do so.

“I'm not gonna judge you or be mad. Like I said, I already know that you two had a fight. I just want to know what happened so I can try to piece together what the fuck is going on.” It wasn't a habit of hers to swear, but she would have to watch her language for years after Victoria's birth. So she was going to enjoy this way of voicing her frustration while she still had it.

“That's fair.” He stepped back from Hermann. There was only one armchair in the room, and the other option was to sit next to Hermann on the bed. So Newt just crossed his legs and faced Vanessa, still on the ground. “Totally justified. You're right.”

Vanessa frowned. Newt was nervous. Newt was stalling. She glared at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that? That is exactly the expression Hermann gets when he's unimpressed with me but there are too many people around for him to start shouting. You know, I didn't really believe people when they said that married couple start to look alike, but this is actually kind of freaky so... And yep. There is the gaze telling me to get back on topic or something bad will happen. Sorry.”

Vanessa was having a hard time keeping her expression demanding, despite the seriousness of the situation. Newt made her think of herself, and how she would start babbling in the same way whenever she got nervous.

“Okay. So we had a fight. Kind of a big fight? I insulted his life-choices and he told me that if I hated them so much I should probably just walk out of here. I cried a little, possibly? Then I left. I only came back after you called me. I didn't think... I didn't think anything would happen, I didn't mean to-”

“What started the fight?” Vanessa interrupted. She didn't think Newt was actually responsible for the situation, even if he seemed to blame himself. But she didn't have the time to comfort Newt either, not until they had figured things out.

“Uh... We were talking about the future. And about how I have absolutely no clue what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life. And how he pretends that he does, but he's actually scared too. I mean... I'm not making this up, right? You must have noticed this too?”

Vanessa hesitated, then nodded. She knew she could trust Hermann, and he kept telling her that he knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted. He kept telling her that he wanted to be here and that he was happy. But it wasn't impossible for him to be lying to himself.

“But, like... He was fine when I left. He was super pissed, but he was fine. He was in his office when I walked out...”

“I talked to him, before he... became like this. But then I took a nap, and when I woke he wasn't responding.”

Newt seemed slightly relieved that at least there was a chance this hadn't been caused by their fight directly. Vanessa took a sip of her coffee. They still were no closer to figuring what was going on or how to fix it.

“Has something like this ever happened before?” Newt asked. Vanessa was surprised, as she had been on the verge of asking the same question herself. She thought about it.

“I'm not sure. Never anything this bad but... I guess he gets lost in memories, sometimes. He starts staring into space. But he'll usually snap out of it if you call for him.”

Newt nodded. “Yeah, you mentioned that the other night. That I did it too. But what could be different about today that lead to him staying stuck?”

Vanessa was fairly confident Newt was only talking to himself and didn't expect a reply, but she felt obligated to give him one anyway. “Well. You're here.”

“What?”

“I don't want to... accuse you of anything. I don't think it's really your fault. But since you're here, and the two of you are connected, and you had your fight... maybe that made the... memory drift stronger. Or something.”

Newt's eyes widened. “Memory-drift! That's it! Vanessa, you're a genius!”

She frowned. She didn't see how her insight was actually of any help. “I'm flattered but... What am I a genius for, actually?”

“A memory-drift! That's what this is! A drift! A connection. A two-way link!” Newt seemed really excited, and got up from the floor. “I went to the Spreeinsel when I left. I stared at the water for a long time. A really long time. I wanted to... get lost in the memories. I did it intentionally. But Hermann? Well, I'm not sure if I'm right at all, but if we think about this like a drift... It's actually not just a one-way or even two way connection. It actually goes in three directions. Pilot/Pilot/Jaeger, or Me/Hermann/Kaiju. And maybe... maybe the connection is still there partly, and so it also works with Me/Memories/Hermann. Like a powerful ghost-drift. I think I've had it happen to me before, a bit, when...”

Newt trailed off, then raised his eyes towards Vanessa, an apology in them.

“When we were still in the Shatterdome. He missed you. He missed you a lot, and sometimes I would get waves of... of missing you too. Not really, because I don't actually know you, but I would get hit by all these memories he has of you, and I would just feel what he was feeling, you know? Well, no. You don't know. Obviously you don't.” He started playing with the cuff of his sweater. “And I thought it was just my mind fixating on these memories on its own. Because I missed... having someone to go home too. But maybe he did influence me in some way. Maybe I got lost in those specific memories so easily because he was thinking about them as well.”

He started drumming his fingers against one of his thighs. He thought in a visible way. You could read on his face how his brain was chasing after different theories, disecting them one after the other, selecting the best ones even as he talked. It was fascinating.

In that moment, Vanessa felt like she knew her husband better than ever before. She remembered seeing him smile at his computer screen, and feeling jealous for a while until her boyfriend beckoned her over so she could take a look. He had explained to her how Newt's theories were great, flawed but amazing, beautiful. How he went further in his research than anyone else, despite their lack of comparative samples. She had tried her best to understand, then, but she couldn't see the beauty in those things in the same way that Newt and Hermann did. That was one reason why she had never done anything with her engineering degree. She couldn't believe in it like Hermann believed in numbers.

But she could see the beauty in the way Newt was thinking now, entire body focused on the task.

“If he really was influencing me before through a ghost-drift... Maybe this time I was the one influencing him.”

“What memories were you looking for, then? When you left?”

Newt froze, then looked down at his lap. Vanessa feared she already knew the answer.

“I...” Newt seemed to realize there was no point in lying, not when they were on the same team. “The kaiju. I was going through some of the kaiju's memories.”

Vanessa couldn't help but wince, even if she had expected it. She remembered how Hermann had described it, being this kind of beast, losing his humanity until all he wanted was to destroy. “Why would you do that?”

Newt still didn't look at her. “ I was angry. I was angry and scared. They... It's just so easy to lose yourself when you think about the kaiju. Not just because they're... interesting. They're connected. They have this sort of hive mentality, a shared mind. Hermann and I tapped into that when we drifted. We could access everything every kaiju has ever thought. Because all their memories are shared. That kind of knowledge, that kind of power, it's... thrilling. You know how, in a concert, you can be overwhelmed just by the atmosphere, the connectedness you feel? Everyone around you is dancing to the same music and thinking the same things, and it's so much and so beautiful that it makes you want to cry. That's what drifting with a kaiju is like. Except for the part where it's terrifying.”

Vanessa stared, and didn't say anything. How could she? To her, kaiju were danger. Kaiju were war and destruction, kaiju were consequences impossible to deal with, millions of lives lost. They were the monsters that had taken her life away from her. She would never be able to see the beauty in them.

She looked down at Newt's arms, covered by his shirt and sweater, where she knew tattoos were hiding. How foolish and how brave to wear death on one's skin. Like carving on epitaph on your bedroom door. Hermann had thought the same, before. But if she asked him today, what would his answer be?

“Vanessa...”

“How do we get him out? How do we get him to snap out of the memories, the ghost-drift?”

Newt froze, than shook his head in apology. Vanessa felt herself moving closer and closer to her snapping point. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to scream at him and punch him, maybe break his stupid glasses, because she had brought him into her home, a perfect stranger, she had brought him into her family, she had made his bed and taught him how to use the stove and still he was useless when she needed him the most. In that moment, she thought she knew what he and her husband felt when they chased their memories' power.

“I... I don't know. I'm not sure? If this was an actual drift we could program the machine to pull him out. We can't do that here. And I never had any problem to snap out of it, so... I don't know why he's stuck.” He looked down at his hands. “Sorry. I'm gonna try. I promise I'm gonna try.”

They finished their coffee and tried to talk to Hermann some more. He still looked as much like a statue as he had before. The tried to shake him, to no avail, and after a while Vanessa just couldn't stand it anymore. She had already tried all of that.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired and frustrated, her eyes puffy and red. Her hair was also starting to get too long, she would need to get a haircut. But that was fine. That was okay. That was something she could fix, and she would fix it. She breathed, in and out, then jumped and banged her toe against a cupboard when she heard a commotion coming from the living-room.

She swore at her clumsiness, but went to the living-room as fast as she could despite the pain. The first thing she noticed was that Hermann wasn't sitting on the couch anymore. Then she realised that the noise she had heard had been caused by Newton falling to the ground and hitting the coffee table. Luckily, it was wooden, not made of glass.

Above Newton, one hand to the ground and one gripping Newt's arm, was Hermann. He was breathing heavily and, although his posture was definitely agressive, the only thing Vanessa could see in his eyes was confusion.

“Hermann!” she shouted.

He let go of Newt's arm and turned towards her, eyes blinking in confusion. He then tried to stand up, but wobbled and nearly fell back down. Newt sat up quickly to support him, but whined as he did so. From what Vanesse could guess, he had probably hurt his head when falling, and the speed of his movement had made him dizzy.

“Dude. Just sit down,” Newt said. “It will help both of us. I think I need to sit down too.”

Hermann did as he was told, and Newt flopped down next to him with a groan, rubbing at his head.

Vanessa was left standing awkwardly in one corner of the room. “So. What happened, exactly?”

HERMANN

Hermann's head felt like a tiny room in which a dozen of drums were beating out of time. His vision was shaky, like some colors were missing from it, and he felt like he was floating just outside of his body.

“What happened?”

That was the question. He had a vague memory of being unable to work after the argument he'd had with Newton and coming back to the kitchen to find him gone. Then Vanessa came back, they talked a little, but she was tired and went into the bedroom to rest. Then... Hermann had wanted to sit down a while and collect his thoughts, and suddenly he had found himself with Newton pinned under him, one hand gripping his arms and teeth bared at the other's throat.

His head was killing him. His shoulder too.

Hermann raised a hand to it, and was surprised at the sharp pain that echoed through him as soon as his fingers touched it.

“Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Newton said guiltily. Hermann glared at him. “Like... don't put any pressure on there. I kind of... had to punch you.”

“You what?” Vanessa exclaimed.

Newton winced. “I punched him, okay? There was a reason for it! I didn't do it just for the hell of it, you know!” He had turned towards Vanessa with his hands raised in the air, as if placating a wild animal. Seeing the fury painted on his wife's face, Hermann could understand why. He felt something twist inside of him at the sight, because he knew this was his fault, that Vanessa was angry because she'd been worried about him. Again.

“He was chasing kaiju memories. I thought that physical harm might force him to react on instinct and snap out of it. It worked! I mean, he did attack me and nearly took a bite of me, but he ended up snapping out of it! So it worked!”

Hermann felt distant, like the conversation was happening in another room. The fact that Newton and Vanessa were talking about him like he wasn't even there didn't help the matters.

“Oh my god. You punched him. You just punched him and that was enough? Why didn't I think of that sooner?”

“Uh... To be fair, I think it's quite a good thing that your first instinct wasn't to punch your husband as hard as you could? I think I would have been a little worried if it had been.”

Vanessa took five long steps to the couch and started hugging Newt, to the latter's aparent confusion. To Hermann's too, if he was honest.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I seriously had no clue of what to do, and we would still be stuck if you hadn't been there.”

Newt hugged her back quickly before taking his distance and mumbling: “You're... welcome, I guess.”

Hermann cleared his throat. “I'm sorry but... can someone explain to me what's going on?”

And then Vanessa was hugging him too. He slowly put his arms around her, careful not to make any sudden movement. She smiled at him, tenderly, and Hermann saw tears well up in her eyes, barely a second before she wiped them away with a hand.

“You were gone,” Newt explained. “I mean, not gone-gone, because obviously you're still here. But you were chasing memories. Of the kaiju, I think, which is probably while you fucking jumped at me when you woke up. You weren't responding at all, by the way. Which is why I punched you.”

Now that Newt mentioned it, Hermann thought he could remember blue shapes across the horizon, the smell of the ocean and the sensation of his body speeding through waters.

“How did it happen? I can't... I can't remember anything precisely, it's all...” He winced, his headache flaring up again.

Newton reached out and, after a second of hesitation, put a hand on Hermann's knee. Hermann looked down at it and forced himself not to stare. “I think it was my fault. I'm sorry. You know how... how the hivemind worked? How the kaiju were able to share their thoughts instantly, without conscious effort?” Hermann nodded, unsure of where exactly his colleague was going with this explanation. “Well, I think something similar is happening. Obviously not as strongly, I think we would have noticed if we were able to actually communicate by telepathy, but something similar. I think we can still influence each other somehow, through a kind of ghost-drift. Like, we can't really communicate but we can... share memories. Or something.”

“A ghost-drift?” Hermann asked with one eyebrow raised. It was a phenomenon known to happen with Jaeger pilots. After a strong drift, a lot of pairs would feel like they could still communicate with each other, even without PONs. They thought they could read each other's thoughts or even have silent conversations. Nobody had ever been able to prove that this phenomenon was real, tough, and it might just have been that two people who knew each other very well and had just been in each other's heads had a way of reading each other's body language unconsciously.

“I guess. Kind of. I mean, you know my feelings on ghost-drifting in general. The PONs already require a very high compatibility threshold, and the Jaegers kind of act as a buffer in normal cases, so in a controlled drift it seems very unlikely that the kind of physical alterations that could enable a real ghost-drift would occur. Even with a really powerful neural handshake.”

“But yours wasn't a controlled drift, was it?” Vanessa asked.

Newton squirmed under her gaze. “Um. Yeah. I kinda... messed with the PONs a bit when I built my custom set-up. I had to lower the compatibility threshold. A lot. Because like... I don't think I'm actually Drift Compatible with a piece of kaiju brain, you know? But I was careful! I also lowered the depth of the connection. Obviously that became kind of useless because of the whole Hivemind thing, but it's not as if I could actually have predicted that. And I also set a timer, so I knew I would be pulled away.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow. Careful was not the adjective that came into his mind when he thought of Newton and of his first drift. He also very clearly remembered having to pull Newton from his own set-up himself after he had nearly died.

“Don't give me that look! It didn't work the first time because I passed out and started seizing! But that was because of the Hivemind! In normal conditions it would have worked just fine!”

“You were attempting to drift with a piece of kaiju brain, Newton, were you seriously expecting anything that could be called normal conditions?”

Newton looked like he wante to argue but, exhibiting an impressive bout of self-restraint, he just pouted instead. “Anyway! The system wasn't actually planned for a threeway drift, and with the lowered compatibility threshold and the kaiju's connection... maybe something did happen. To our brains, I mean. Maybe we did get affected by it, except it would be really hard to notice, because it's super difficult to get a clear reading on neural activity, you know? But it could be that we... that we can actually ghost drift.”

“So that means... you were thinking of the kaiju?”

Vanessa looked between the two of them. “Hermann...”

He thought she was scared they would have another fight, but that wasn't what Hermann was looking for. He just wanted to understand.

“It's alright, Vanessa,” Newton said, shaking his head. “It's fine.” He turned towards Hermann again. “I was. I was angry. I was angry at you and at myself and at everything. And when I'm angry I do destructive shit. Stare into the void, and it will stare back, they say. So I stared.”

Hermann could remember. He could remember picking fights with people older, bigger, stronger than him. He could remember drinking unhealthy amounts, just because he could. He could remember breaking things.

It made an awful kind of sense, that the memories of the kaiju would just become one more unhealthy coping mechanism.

“But you came back,” Hermann pointed out. He wasn't sure whether he was talking about the memories, or about Newt physically being here again. Maybe both.

At least he could remember the fight clearly, although he might have prefered it if he didn't. It hadn't been their usual kind of banter, the back and forth that stung but ultimately led them to being more productive. This fight had meant to hurt, to strike where they were both most vulnerable. They had been trying to destroy each other, and Hermann remembered the emptiness that had washed over him when he had thought that he might have succeeded.

“I came back,” Newton agreed. “Vanessa called for me. I never intended to actually leave, I mean... I just needed some time. I would have come back for my suitcases anyway and... I mean, I should probably go and stay at a hotel or something, it might be best for everyone, but it doesn't mean...”

He was struggling to find his words, which should mean something. But Hermann was having hard enough a time keeping his own thoughts straight through the pounding pain, he didn't feel able to interpret Newt's expression.

“I mean... We fight a lot. Right? And this fight was bad. I was out of line and you...”

“I was out of line too.”

Newton nodded in acknowledgment. Vanessa was watching them intently, probably trying to parse together what was left unsaid, and watching over them in case things got violent once more.

“But I think actually... I think this fight might have been necessary, in a way? We tried to handle things on our own, when you left. And it didn't work out great, did it? And now... If we really are connected, there's no point in trying to keep our lives separate. I think maybe Vanessa was right. I think maybe we need each other. So like... if you'll still have me...”

Hermann sighed. This was too much. The idea of having Newton's memories had already felt overwhelming, but now there was a chance that their brainwaves were forever connected to each other, and that just felt worse. Hermann not only knew the Newton of a month and a half ago more intimately than he had ever hoped, there was also part of the present-Newton forever within him.

Still. He had pulled him out. Even if it was technically Newton's fault if Hermann had lost himself in the memories in the first place, he had pulled him out. Hermann didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't. Would Hermann have been able to stop it by himself?

“You can stay,” he said. He wasn't certain he didn't mean it as a request. Will you stay? Will you do this for... Will you do this with me? “Until we figure things out. Until we get better. You can stay here, if you want.” Here, meaning in this flat. Here, meaning in Berlin. Here, meaning in Hermann's life.

Hermann turned towards Vanessa, waiting to see if she would say something. This had been her idea in the first place, but she had the right to change her mind. Especially after what had happened today. Hermann couldn't blame Newton, because he knew that wasn't how it worked. But if Vanessa saw Newton as a danger, he would respect it. He needed her to feel safe too. He didn't think he would ever be able to feel at home in a place where Vanessa wasn't safe.

But she nodded.

“Thank you,” Newton said, sounding overwhelmed. “Thank you guys so much, seriously. I don't know if I can... how I can ever repay you but... I appreciate it. I really do. More than I can say.”

Newton was sincere. Earnest, even. And Hermann was glad that Vanessa could feel it to, that she trusted him, somehow, despite everything that had happened. There was a time when he had hated Newton with all of his being. Now he didn't want to imagine his wife asking him to leave. How had his life come to this?

“I'm glad you're okay,” Vanessa said softly, coming closer and sliding her fingers in one of Hermann's hands. “I was really scared.”

Hermann wanted to apologize, but he didn't know for what, so he leaned into his wife's touch instead. His whole body felt tired, he guessed that he had been tensing his muscles the whole time he had been... lost? Unconscious? Unsconscious felt like the most accurate word.

“Okay, well, I'm gonna...” Newt started. “I think I'm gonna take a shower? I was outside a lot, and it was kind of really cold so... yeah. I'll be in the bathroom.”

He stood up and nearly ran out of the room. Hermann guessed that it was his very undiscreet way of giving him and Vanessa space, and he was thankful for it.

Vanessa immediately pressed her shoulder against his uninjured side, settling in more comfortably now that they had more space on the couch.

They kept silent for a moment, soaking in each other's warmth. Hermann didn't know what to say. He was still confused about everything that had happened.

“I don't want to lose you again,” Vanessa whispered.