#this accidentally turned out looking like three til I made his shoulders narrower

[ohhamlet-art]

12th of the hour

[fandomsalive]

So Listen Dear, Won’t You Meet Me Here While I’m Bringing in the New Year

So Listen Dear, Won’t You Meet Me Here While I’m Bringing in the New Year | Reddie | Teen and Up | 5,627 words

Summary: “Fuck you, I would have gotten it eventually,” Richie shoots back, even as he rushes to save the game quickly, and then tosses the controller to the side. “I’m bored," he declares loudly.

He stares resolutely at the TV the same way he’s been avoiding Eddie’s eyes most of the night, like he’s too nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“You were the one who wanted to play video games all night,” Eddie grumbles, glaring at the side of his face. When we could be making out instead, he complains in his own head, but refuses to say aloud.

**

It’s New Years Eve, and Eddie’s just waiting for Richie to make a move already.

—

Title from "Bringing In A Brand New Year," by B.B. King. I was inspired by this (x) tik tok and I know it’s way too late for New Years but take this New Years fic anyway. This is also set 2016 but the boys are teens. Thanks to @imnotinclinedtomaturity for the beta I love you.

Ao3 Link

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Stan (10:16 PM)

so has he made a move on u yet?

Eddie (10:16 PM)

fuck you stan you know he hasnt

Stan (10:17 PM)

i told u ud have ot be the one to suck it up kaspbrak

Eddie (10:18 PM)

I hate you.

Stan (10:18 PM)

ur just mad i was right. i knew richie wouldnt have the balls to follow through on his plans to jump ur bones tonight

Eddie doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead choosing to toss his phone onto the edge of Richie’s bed with a huff. Richie, who up ‘til then had been blatantly (and perhaps a little desperately) trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed Eddie was on his phone, glances at the discarded phone with far too much interest.

“Who ya texting, Eds?” he asks, feigning indifference but missing by a mile. Eddie wants to roll his eyes at just how transparent his best friend is, but he really shouldn’t be surprised. Richie has been on edge all night, more often than not turning to Eddie to say something, and then changing his mind last minute, so of course the moment Eddie’s attention isn’t on him, he’d be concerned.

“Your mom,” Eddie snarks back, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation. Richie snickers, but his heart clearly isn’t in it. He keeps darting his eyes towards Eddie’s phone, and then back to the TV screen, where he’s been playing Kingdom Hearts for the last hour, as if he wants nothing more than to take Eddie’s phone and find out for himself.

Do it, Eddie begs him internally, eyes narrowed at the back of Richie’s head.

Richie doesn’t, but Eddie hadn’t really been expecting anything different. Richie hasn’t been picking up on anything Eddie has been hinting at recently. It’s starting to feel like nothing short of screaming his intentions from the rooftop will work to knock some sense into him.

In fact, he’s been sitting at the head of Richie’s bed for the last two hours, sprawled as invitingly as he could imagine in a pair of sleep shorts and one of Richie’s jackets. He looks good, he knows he looks good.

More than once he’s stretched himself towards Richie, pressing their thighs together and tossing his ankle over Richie’s, but rather than encouraging Richie to just do something already, it had only succeeded in Richie giggling nervously and, after the third rendition, retreating half way down the bed.

Richie has been sat cross legged down there for the last hour and a half, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do to salvage the damn night. He can’t exactly chase Richie, because so far drawing any attention to Richie’s weirdness, or Eddie’s blatant attempts to flirt, has only seemed to spook him, and any attempt to broach the subject — that subject being the fact that Eddie wanted to date him — only made Richie clam up more.

Eddie has been waiting the last couple of months for Richie to just… come out with it already, ever since Janice had asked Eddie to be her date to homecoming, and Richie had gone into such a fit he hadn’t spoken to Eddie for a week. Eddie had been so mad at him for being a dick and ignoring him, but every time Eddie’d tried to catch him on his own, Richie would disappear. For three days straight he’d been to all of Richie’s favorite hang out spots and hadn’t seen hide nor tail of him until the end of October when Eddie stumbled out the back of the Chemistry building and accidentally overheard a private conversation between Richie and Bev.

He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop but… Richie was his best friend, and more than anything else, Eddie had been hurt by the sudden refusal to speak to him. He hadn’t even understood at the time, hadn’t made the connection to Janice at all, until he’d heard Richie confessing to Bev, his voice hesitant, quiet… hurt.

“It’s only a matter of time before someone asks Eddie out and he says yes, Bev,” Richie had sniffled miserably. “What am I supposed to do then, because I sure as fuck can’t pretend to be happy for him? It’ll break my heart.”

Ever since then, Eddie has been trying to tell Richie that Eddie doesn’t want a girlfriend. In fact, Eddie isn’t interested in girls at all. He’s far more interested in his foulmouthed best friend, despite his better judgement.

Richie doesn’t seem to get it, though. The following Monday, Richie had started speaking to him again as if nothing had happened, and any time Eddie attempted to bring any of it up, Richie would say something so nonsensical and infuriating that Eddie couldn’t help raising to the bait.

Now it's been over two months and Richie is still pussy footing around despite the fact that Eddie has been flirting with him this entire time. He’s dropped so many hints about his own fucking feelings that now all of the Losers know he’s in love with Richie, and their sympathy is quickly waning.

“You need to just tell him outright, Eddie,” had been Bill’s sage advice after the millionth time Eddie had practically sat on Richie’s lap in the hammock and Richie had responded by jumping out of it. “He’s an idiot, and obviously terrified you’re going to reject him if he so much as breathes on you wrong. He’s not going to realize you like him back when you’re flirting with him the same way you’ve been flirting with him your entire friendship.”

Eddie had told Bill to fuck off, and hid in his room for the rest of the night, frustrated at his own inability to sack up, as Bev would put it.

And truthfully, Eddie doesn’t know why he hasn’t just blurted it all out yet, but every time he’s even come close, he’s felt almost faint with anxiety. It hasn’t helped that everytime Richie senses a serious conversation coming, he diverts the conversation as fast as he possibly can. Richie’s lack of desire to actually fucking talk about this isn’t exactly comforting, despite the fact that Eddie knows Richie likes him.

But it’s New Year’s Eve tonight, and Stan, sick of watching Richie and Eddie dance around each other, had confided in Eddie that Richie was planning on confessing his feelings tonight, if he could only convince Eddie it would be worth pissing off his mom to spend the night.

Spending any amount of time with Richie was worth it, but if it meant Richie was going to admit to how he felt, Eddie wasn’t going to miss his chance.

Except… so far, Stan’s assumption that Richie wouldn’t have the guts to tell Eddie the truth seems to be the most likely outcome. Eddie sighs at the thought, unsure what else he could possibly do to make it clear to Richie that he’s more than receptive to Richie’s feelings..

All Eddie can really think about just then, however, is how shit Richie is at Kingdom Hearts.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Eddie grouses loudly, as Richie makes another attempt to defeat Luxord, and the loud death animation plays out on the screen.

“Fuck you, no I’m not,” Richie shoots back, stubbornly clicking “restart” and beginning the fight all over again. Eddie sighs loudly. This is the fifth time he’s seen Richie attempt this fight tonight, and each time he’s fallen to the same fucking trap. It's probably thanks to the fact that Richie hasn’t actually been paying very much attention to his game at all, apparently too busy fidgeting in place and sending Eddie obvious, but nonetheless longing, looks.

“You just have to pay fucking attention,” Eddie grumbles and shifts onto his knees, crawling determindedly over to Richie. Richie looks over his shoulder at Eddie, a nervous look in his eye, tongue sticking out in concentration. Richie shifts with Eddie, leaning forward like he wants to get away. Eddie wants nothing more than to shove him off the bed already. “Look, see, when he turns into a card you just have to —”

At Richie’s side now, Eddie reaches for the controller in Richie’s hands, and jerks it into his own.

“Hey!” Richie complains loudly, but doesn’t fight it. Instead, he practically recoils, and moves over on the bed so that he’s on the edge, a large gap between him and Eddie’s knees. Eddie does everything he can to ignore it, and starts mashing buttons on the controller.

“See, look, if you just fuck with the camera you can tell which card he’s and then —” Eddie unleashes a combo attack on Luxord in the few seconds that he’s stunned, before Luxord changes tacks.

Eddie doesn’t bother handing Richie the controller back, because Richie doesn’t ask and Eddie is tired of sitting around looking tempting when it’s clear Richie isn’t going to fucking do anything about it. Irritated, Eddie unleashes his anger on the game instead. “And then when he does it again, you just —” Again, Eddie manipulates the camera until he knows exactly which card Luxord is in, locks on, and beats the shit out of him all over again.

“Alright, alright,” Richie grumbles, pouting and reaching up to throw his hoodie over his head, casting his face into shadow. Eddie rolls his eyes at the way Richie fiddles with the drawstrings there. Eddie recognizes it as one of Richie’s nervous ticks, and if he hadn’t known Richie was working himself up to confessing tonight, that would have been a good red flag that Richie wanted to do something.

Finally, after three more rounds of doing the same shit, Luxord dies, and Eddie thrusts the controller back into Richie’s hands. Richie takes it cautiously, sneaking a look at Eddie’s irritated face.

“There,” Eddie exclaims proudly. “I told you you were doing it wrong,” he adds smugly, and settles himself more firmly into the spot he’s taken up residence in. Richie will just have to deal with Eddie in his space, and if he wants to sit on the very edge of his bed with one foot pressed to the floor, only barely keeping him up, then so be it. Eddie’s tired of making this easy on him.

“Fuck you, I would have gotten it eventually,” Richie shoots back, even as he rushes to save the game quickly, and then tosses the controller to the side. “I’m bored,” he declares loudly, and drags the remaining leg he has on the bed up to his chest, wrapping his arm around it and resting his chin on his knee.

He stares resolutely at the TV the same way he’s been avoiding Eddie’s eyes most of the night, like he’s too nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“You were the one who wanted to play video games all night,” Eddie grumbles, glaring at the side of his face. When we could be making out instead, he complains in his own head, but refuses to say aloud.

“Yeah, but you’re so much better at it,” Richie whines, and tosses himself backwards on the bed. His hood acts as a halo around his face, dark curls spilling out of it, as Eddie turns his body to stare down at him. Richie meets his eyes for half a second before his cheeks turn bright red and he looks away again. “Hey, I’ve got an idea!” he declares suddenly, and sits back up. He turns giddily to Eddie and declares, “Why don’t you play Dark Souls?”

Instantly, Eddie groans. “Fuck no!” he complains, “The last time I let you convince me to play Dark Souls, you spent the entire time making fun of me when I got my ass kicked. I’m not doing it again!” Eddie practically shouts at him.

Richie is cackling on the bed, grinning like an absolute lunatic at Eddie. It’s the first time all night things have seemed semi-normal between them. “That’s the best part, Edwardo!” Richie exclaims brightly. Eddie groans loudly at the nickname, but Richie steamrolls past him before he can say anything. “No one wants to watch someone being good at that game, it’s boooooring,” he sing-songs, dancing in place.

“No!” Eddie refuses, reaching out to shove at Richie’s shoulder. “I refuse! Pick something else!” he demands.

With a pout, Richie turns and drops back onto the bed. This time, his curls are what halo his face, and they’re so cute that Eddie wants to bury his fingers into them. Eddie has to fight a blush at the stupidly cheesy thought, and turns away.

“Fine,” Richie grumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “You pick something then,” he adds, still pouting.

Sighing, Eddie reaches out to pick up Richie’s controller, and exits out of Kingdom Hearts. He scrolls through Richie’s downloaded games in search of a different one — not Dark Souls.

The clock in the corner blinks 10:32 PM, inching closer and closer to midnight. Richie only has an hour and twenty-eight minutes left to follow through on his supposed plan (and, unknowinglingly, prove Stan wrong. Eddie’s not so certain he’s going to manage it).

“For someone who spends so much time on his PS4,” Eddie complains, “you don’t have very many games.”

“It’s not about quantity, Eds,” Richie snarks back, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows, “It’s about quality. Oh!” he exclaims as Eddie skips through his games, “Crash Bandicoot! Eds, Eddie, Edwardo, Eddie Spaghetti,” he rattles off, shooting off the bed and grabbing for the controller. “Come on, we have to play that!”

He’s so excited he doesn’t seem to notice the way his fingers cover Eddie’s for a moment, but Eddie sure does. It sends a spark of heat down his back and he swallows thickly, releasing the controller.

“Fuck you, that’s not my name,” Eddie complains automatically, frowning. Richie isn’t listening to him. Instead, he’s opening up Crash Bandicoot N. Sane Trilogy, and debating between the three options. “Wait, I thought I was choosing the game,” he adds as an afterthought, not really caring but arguing out of habit.

“You were but you took too long,” Richie shoots back, sticking his tongue out. Eddie rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother arguing. It had been thirty seconds at the most. Richie is just impatient. “Besides,” Richie adds, eager as ever, “We can take turns defeating the levels,” he insists, and finally settles on Warped.

“Take turns my ass,” Eddie grumbles, but settles himself more comfortably on the bed regardless. He’s taking up the majority of the middle of the bed again, and Eddie isn’t surprised when Richie chooses to fit himself back against the very edge again, one leg propped on the floor to keep him stationary. His leg is bouncing nervously as he darts his gaze back and forth between the game and Eddie’s face. “I don’t think you know what take turns means,” Eddie adds, stubbornly ignoring Richie’s gaze.

“I do, too!” Richie claims, pouting. A smile twitches at Eddie’s lips, but he chooses to ignore it. “I’ll even prove it to you. You can go first!” Richie insists, and this time presses the controller into Eddie’s hands.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie takes it and starts the first level.

It turns out that Crash Bandicoot is one of the worst decisions Richie could have made, because they’re both disastrous at it. Within the first ten minutes, they’ve lost every single one of their lives, and they’re forced to start the level over from the beginning, rather than from the last checkpoint they’d hit. This only serves to make the game even harder, and Eddie isn’t the least bit surprised when he and Richie end up fighting over the controller.

“It’s my turn!” Richie screams in Eddie’s face, giggling as he wrestles him for the controller.

“No it isn’t! I haven’t beat the level yet!” Eddie argues back, struggling against Richie’s longer arms. As is par for the course for the two of them, their wrestling isn’t the least bit careful. In fact, Eddie’s fairly certain he’s going to have a bruise on his jaw tomorrow from where Richie had hit him with his elbow, but Eddie doesn’t mind. It’s always been satisfying to roughhouse with Richie.

“Yeah but you used our last life!” Richie shouts at him. “That’s pretty much the same thing! It’s your fault we had to start the level over!”

“Like you haven’t done it a million times already,” Eddie growls, finally shoving Richie off of him.

Richie goes careening off the bed, and hits the floor with a loud thump. Startled, Eddie drops the controller on the bed, and crawls across the sheets to stare down at where Richie has landed, eyes wide. Richie is staring up at him dazed, blinking rapidly as if trying to reorient himself. Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and leans down to grasp onto Richie’s wrist. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, waiting for Richie to grip onto his wrist in turn before dragging him up and into a sitting position. Eddie lets go of him, and Richie reaches up to press tentative fingers to the back of his head. Eddie winces when Richie winces.

“I’m fine,” Richie groans, and drops his hands to the floor on either side of him. He takes another moment to gather himself, before leveraging himself to his feet. Instinctively, Eddie leans backwards until he’s sat back on the bed and out of Richie’s personal space. “You pack quite a punch for such a little guy,” Richie comments playfully.

“Oh, fuck you!” Eddiee screams instantly, reaching for the pillows at the top of Richie’s bed. As soon as he’s got one in his grip, Eddie starts pummeling Richie’s face with it. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Eddie shouts, as Richie laughs and bats futilely at the pillow. “See if I ever worry about you again!” Eddie complains, huffing loudly.

It takes another few smacks of the pillow to Richie’s laughing face before Eddie finally relents.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sheesh,” Richie says, still laughing. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he offers sweetly, using that stupid smile he always uses on grown ups to get out of trouble. Eddie huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yes you did,” Eddie argues darkly.

Richie laughs again. “Okay, yes I did,” he agrees, nudging at Eddie softly, and then shuffling onto the bed next to him, “But I only do it to rile you up,” he admits. The moment the words are out of his mouth, Richie starts blushing and looks away.

Eddie, shocked at the confession, can only stare at the side of Richie’s face, terrified of doing or saying anything in response that might scare Richie off.

They’re silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of their game echoing around the room. The sound is annoying, considering how many times they’ve died in such a short period of time, but Eddie can also hear his heart beating roughly in his chest while he waits anxiously to see what Richie will do next.

Finally, Richie clears his throat. “You know, Eds,” Richie starts, his voice soft and tentative, the way it has been on and off all night. Eddie’s eyes dart to Richie’s face, and he feels his heart clench up tight in his chest. Is this it? Is this the time? Is Richie actually going to tell him—

With a huff, Richie shakes his head and gets up off the bed. He doesn’t say anything else, wringing his hands at his sides again instead, and Eddie’s chest deflates.

“Come on,” Richie says, completely changing the subject, “Let’s see if we can get to the boss before midnight.”

With darting, anxious eyes, Richie looks for the controller he’d just been sitting on, and snatches it up quickly as soon as he locates it. Then he throws himself back onto the bed, this time pressed up against the headboard, curled into his small pile of pillows.

So, no. Not this time, no point in Eddie getting his hopes up again.

Freshly annoyed at Richie’s new positioning once again away from Eddie, Eddie reaches up and snatches the controller from Richie’s hands.

Richie lets it go without a fight, eyes wide and unsure.

“It’s still my turn,” Eddie explains tersely, and turns back to the TV screen, where he can see the time 11:12 PM sitting innocuously in the corner, mocking him.

Eddie doesn’t know why he thinks it, but somehow he feels as if Richie hasn’t confessed by midnight, Richie isn’t going to confess at all.

With a sigh, Eddie tries the level again. And again. And again.

They do make it to the boss, eventually.

Richie’s the one to beat level 5, though it takes him a good 50 times to do so, and only then because the fourth level had been pretty easy and Eddie had managed to farm more than a couple of lives. He’d gone so far as to play another round of keep away with Richie to play the level a second time, to which Richie had sat in his corner and pouted.

But now they’re on the first boss, and Richie has refused to hand the controller back over.

“You got two turns with level 4!” Richie argues defiantly, “We’ll take turns with the boss. Everytime one of us dies, we hand the controller off!”

Grumbling to himself, Eddie relents, and, starting to feel uncomfortable sitting in the middle of the bed, moves to the top to settle in next to Richie. Eddie leaves some space between them this time, unwilling to put himself through the depressing experience of Richie pulling away from him again.

Richie still shoots a terrified glance at him, and scoots over the tiniest bit. Eddie does everything he can in his power not to roll his eyes too obviously, and nods at the game instead. “What are you waiting for? Start it already, dumbass.”

So Richie does.

Shockingly, the boss is pretty easy to beat. He’s so easy, in fact, that Eddie doesn’t even get a go at it, and while Richie laughs and cheers for his own victory, Eddie swipes the controller from his hands and starts level 6.

It’s inching nearer and nearer to midnight. He can see the clock glaring 11:47 at him. The year is almost over, and Richie still hasn’t confessed to him. Eddie isn’t sure if he should even be expecting it anymore, given how many times Richie has stared at him and then clearly chickened out without saying anything. It’s disappointing, when Eddie had come over that night feeling so hopeful.

Stan had warned him to keep his expectations low. None of their friends seemed to have any confidence in Richie’s willingness to confess, regardless of whether or not Richie had said he was going to do it. Eddie had just been hoping…

Well, he’d been hoping that maybe, by midnight, they would have talked about their feelings and Richie might have kissed him. The longer the night goes on, though, the less and less likely it seems that Richie actually will.

Eddie is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice it when he runs out of lives on level 6. He sighs, frustrated, when the game starts back over outside the level, and he turns to hand the controller off to Richie.

Their eyes meet. Richie’s are wide and terrified. His hood is pulled up over his head again, hiding part of his face in shadow, and he’s playing with the strings again, tightening and untightening his hood over and over again. For a moment, the look on Richie’s face is so startling that even Eddie feels nervous.

And then Richie says, “It’s almost midnight,” with a tremble in his voice.

Eddie nods his head slowly, feeling that familiar quiver in his chest that tells him the hope is building.

This time? he wonders.

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie agrees after a moment, unsure.

He does his best not to make Richie feel any more uncomfortable than he already does, and stays as still as he dares. He wants to reach out and take Richie’s hand in his, wants to drag his fidgeting fingers away from the strings of his hoodie, wants to shift forward so their thighs are pressed alongside each others’, wants to lean his forehead against Richie’s and beg him to kiss him.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t, because he knows that Richie is scared, and he knows what it’s like to be scared. Eddie’s spent his whole life being scared. He’d grown up being told all the ways he could get sick if he wasn’t careful, being told that he had allergies he didn’t have, and illnesses that wouldn’t stick. There had been a time in Eddie’s life where he couldn’t go one hour without taking another set of medications, and his inhaler had been his best friend.

So he understands being scared, and maybe that’s the real reason he hasn’t pushed Richie on this. Eddie knows that forcing someone to get over their fears isn’t going to fix anything, not in the long run, anyway — they have to want to get over them themselves. And Eddie is willing to wait.

“Fuck,” Richie mutters to himself, fingers tangling tight in his hoodie strings. His hands look like they might be shaking, but Richie is fidgeting too much for Eddie to know for sure. “Fuck, uhm, Eddie?” Richie asks nervously, eyes darting all around Eddie’s face, avoiding his eyes completely.

“Mm?” Eddie replies, breathless, his own eyes wide and nervous. He flattens his hands down hard against his thighs, and begs himself not to touch, to not scare Richie, to not push him.

“I’m—” Richie starts, cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, then starts again, “I’m going to do something now, but if you hate it, just tell me, okay?” he babbles nervously, finally detangling his fingers from his hoodie strings, only to clench them deeply into his jeans.

Eddie’s breathing speeds up, and his hands are shaking now too.

“Richie,” Eddie whispers, aiming for encouraging and falling short. He can hear that his own voice is shaking.

Richie doesn’t seem to notice, barreling on, “I promise it’s fine if you don’t like it. I just want to — I just want to try…” Richie’s voice trails off as he gulps, eyes darting all over Eddie’s face. He opens his mouth to say something more, but hesitates, and then starts to retreat into himself, clearly losing his nerve.

Eddie panics.

Before Richie can try and back out of it once again, Eddie blurts,“Kiss me.”

The words are half garbled with breathlessness, almost a gasp between them, but Richie seems to catch on. His eyes go wide, and he inhales sharply, struck dumb. For a long moment, they just stare at each other, Eddie with his heart in his throat, and Richie absolutely stunned. Finally, Richie bursts into a flurry of giggles.

He releases the strings of his hoodie to instead press his fingers to his mouth, laughing loudly around them, and gasps, “oh my god.” Richie is trembling all over as he drags his hands away from his mouth and wheezes, “holy shit,” the shock more than a little apparent.

Unable to help it, Eddie starts smiling as well, fingers clenching tight into the fabric of his jeans. “Richie!” he demands, giggling. “Come on, asshole!”

The I’m waiting feels heavy between them.

“Dude!” Richie shoots back, absolutely beaming now, and without another moment of hesitation, he reaches out and threads his fingers through the hair at the back of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie will never forget the way it feels when Richie tugs him into their first kiss. The sensation is like a shot of electricity to his spine, and he gasps before their lips even touch. He can feel his heart in his throat, beating so hard he shakes with it, and then Richie’s mouth is on his, and the feeling is like fireworks going off in his head.

Eddie doesn’t mean to groan. The sound is just ripped out of him, shocked and needy. Richie’s lips are hot against his, and he despite all of his previous nervousness, he doesn’t seem nervous of this at all. Maybe it’s because the scariest part is over, or maybe it’s because Richie knows Eddie wants it too. Regardless, he doesn’t seem to be holding back now.

Richie is a shockingly good kisser, and he takes Eddie’s bottom lip between his instantly, sucking so softly and sweetly that it's more a tease than anything. When he introduces teeth, it's the tiniest nip, and it drives Eddie absolutely crazy.

The way Richie sighs against his lips makes Eddie shiver. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that he’s raised his own hands to fist his fingers into the back of Richie’s curls, knocking off his hood and holding on tight in an attempt to prevent Richie from pulling away even the tiniest bit. Richie’s other hand has found Eddie’s waist, and it’s only when Richie yanks Eddie in closer that Eddie realizes he’d begun to melt backwards into the bed.

Gasping at the feeling of being held tight, Eddie shoves himself further into Richie’s personal space, until the warmth of him is seeping into Eddie, and Eddie is practically in Richie’s lap.

Their mouths come together again, and again, and again, their breathing hot and heavy between them.

Eddie’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. HIs entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Fucking finally, asshole,” Eddie groans into the kiss, pulling lightly on Richie’s hair in punishment. Shocked, Richie laughs, and kisses Eddie even more enthusiastically, the wet sound of their mouths loud in Eddie’s ears. It’s almost all that he can hear, the faint sound of Crash Bandicoot so far away it might as well be in another room.

It feels like they make out forever, making up for all the lost time they could have spent doing this. Richie’s fingers dig deep into Eddie’s hip, and Eddie tugs on Richie’s hair unapologetically. Richie’s tongue sends sparks down Eddie’s spine every time he drags it against his lips, against his own tongue, against the back of his teeth. It feels so good that Eddie never wants to stop kissing Richie.

With every shift of their mouths, Eddie shifts his body closer to Richie’s, until finally Eddie manages to knock Richie over and lands on top of him with a small oof.

“Holy fuck,” Richie gasps, shocked as their mouths pull apart. His eyes are hazy when they meet Eddie’s, his mouth wet and red.

Short of breath, Eddie can only manage to gasp back, “Holy fuck.”

For some reason, this makes Richie laugh. He slams his head back against the bedsheets with the force of it, and lets his eyes drift closed.

Hovering on top of him, Eddie releases Richie’s hair to instead prop himself up, unable to help the way he grins down at Riche.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” Richie admits breathlessly, grinning as he finally opens his eyes again and looks up at Eddie. Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes, knocking his forehead gently into Richie’s.

“Yeah, I’m not an idiot, I could tell,” Eddie admits a little brashly, leaning in to peck Richie’s lips before Richie can tense up too much.

“You could?” Richie asks into the kiss, sounding shocked at the admission. Eddie nods, and kisses him again, and again, and again — soft little pecks that don’t turn into anything more.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, nuzzling their noses together. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow a pair and do it already,” Eddie adds teasingly, and drags his head away from Richie’s long enough to look him in the eye. “Seriously Richie, I’ve been waiting for months,” he complains good naturedly, some of the irritation gone now that it’s out there — now that Richie’s kissed him.

“Oh,” Richie replies, eyes furrowing until he’s frowning. Surprised at this change in demeanor, Eddie pulls back from Richie again and shoots him a worried look.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, panicked.

Richie glares at him. “What the fuck, you asshole!” he whines, scrabbling at Eddie’s back until Eddie falls fully on top of him. “You knew this whole time, and you didn’t say anything?” he groans, wrapping his arms tight around Eddie and squeezing the life out of him.

The hold makes Eddie giggle, and he shoves his face into Richie’s neck, breathing hot there. “I’ve been trying, fucknuts! You’re just too fucking stupid to notice when someone’s flirting with you!” Eddie argues back, giddy with it.

Richie shakes his head against Eddie’s neck and says, “You know, you could have kissed me, too.”

The words are softer than the rest, a little coy and shy. Eddie feels his heart melt at it, and he pulls away from Richie’s neck slowly.

“I guess,” he agrees quietly, but doesn’t explain himself. He doesn’t think he has to, with the way that Richie is looking at him. Despite Richie’s grumblings, he thinks that both of them know Richie had to be the one to kiss Eddie first.

Sure enough, it takes a moment, but eventually Richie rolls his eyes and says, “Alright fine.” Then he lifts one hand to press it into Eddie’s hair, and pulls him in close, “But did you know that I love you?” he whispers right up against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie shivers, and laughs softly, eliminating the last few inches of space between their mouths with a searing kiss, before whispering, “Yeah, and I love you too, dumbass.”

[the-sword-lesbian]

A Mother’s Love pt. 2: Once More, With Feelings

“Maddie honey if you don’t stop squirming I might accidentally poke you in the eye with this.”

“Sorry Mama.” “It’s fine, just try to hold still.” Victoria leaned in again carefully brushing the mascara wand across her daughter’s eyelashes. 

“I’m just like, super nervous about tonight. I can’t believe Devin asked me to prom.” Maddie sat as patiently as she could while her mother worked on her make-up. Nervously playing with the small, button-covered cube in her hands. 

Victoria stopped to put the wand back in its tube to refill it and move on to the other eyelash. “Why not? You’re a total catch. Plus you’ve been crushing on him for almost three months now, I’m surprised it took him this long to say something.”

Maddie let out a breathy laugh at that, trying not to move too much. “I’m just kind of freaking out about it. Ya know?” 

Victoria leaned back and put away the mascara before thumbing through her trays for a lipstick that will accent well with her daughter’s dress. “Because you’re a sixteen year old that got invited to prom? Your mother’s still really nervous about that by the way. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to be able to convince her it was okay. So you should thank her for that.”

“Yeah I will.” she sighed. “And it's a little bit that. I’m just worried everyone will treat me like a kid or something.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her, “You ARE a kid.” she said before snickering to herself. “Besides, I doubt that boy could have done better. Do this with your lips.” She made a face as an example before reaching up to gently grab her daughter’s chin and brush the lipstick on.

Maddie waited a minute for it to dry before responding. “I just really want this to go well.” She smiled to herself. “I really like him.” She looked down nervously, “what if he doesn’t like me back?”

Victoria tilted Maddie’s chin up to look her in the eyes, those same green eyes. Giselle may have gotten the rest of Victoria’s genes but Maddie got her eyes. “Honey. You’re gorgeous, you’re trilingual, you’re the top of your class, you’re even working on a damn novel. You’d be any boy’s dream date. Hell, he’s more your arm candy than the other way around.”

She laughed at that, smiling at her mother before looking down, seemingly scared, looking so small. “But I mean… what if he doesn't want me because… I’m not a-” Victoria immediately straightened up and put her hands on her hips. “Madeline Annabelle Chase I swear to god if the next words out of your mouth are ‘a real girl’ I will ground you for a month.”

Maddie stared wide-eyed at her mother’s sudden outburst. Opening and closing her mouth a few times, unsure of what to say before looking down and mumbling “Sorry Mama.”

Her mother sighed heavily trying to let out the tension in her body. She leaned forward and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Maddie look at me.” She waited until their green eyes met before continuing. “You, and I. Are no less ‘real’ than your mother, than your sister, than your aunts. Okay? Just because someone else got it wrong on day one and we had to play catch up doesn’t mean we’re fake or pretending or anything like that. Okay? Devin is lucky to have you as his date. You are an amazing young woman. And if he has some dumbass hangup about something that isn’t his business then it’s his loss, not your fault, and you’re better off without him.” Victoria smiled at her before adding “Also if he says something stupid your sister will probably punch him in the face.”

Maddie cackled at that. Then suddenly lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Victoria’s neck hugging her tight. “Thanks Mama.” She said sniffling.

Victoria blinked her eyes trying to keep them dry as she reached up to hug Maddie back. “Hey now, no crying, your makeup will run.” Her daughter laughed into Victoria’s shoulder. “Mama I know for a fact all the makeup you buy and everything you just put on my face is waterproof. You’re just saying that because you know if I start crying you will too.”

Victoria laughed too, “You’ve got me there.” She leaned back looking at her daughter. Long blond hair done up in braids and plaits. Beautiful green eyes. A small but still radiant smile. Sharp as a tack with an incredible wit. She sniffled quietly. “You’re growing up too fast.”

“I’ll always be your little girl though.” She leaned back in to hug her again. “Love you Mama.”

“Love you too Maddie.”

The moment was broken by Kate shouting up the stairs that her date had arrived to pick her up and Victoria and Maddie made their way downstairs where Kate was chatting animatedly with Devin who looked rightfully(in Victoria’s opinion) awestruck at Maddie’s outfit. After he’d stuttered his way through telling her how beautiful she looked he gave her a corsage and both moms demanded a picture of the couple. Maddie hugged her mothers and assured them she’d be safe and back before twelve and yes she had her phone on her for emergencies. They then started heading towards the car but Victoria caught Devin’s sleeve before he could get too far.

“Just a second Devin” she said tugging him back and reaching for his tie. “Your tie is crooked.”

“Oh, thanks Mrs. Chase.” Victoria made a show of readjusting the knot before she pulled it just a tad too tight and tugged it so that he would look her in the eyes. “Okay.” she said in her iciest voice but quietly so that Maddie wouldn’t overhear her. “Now listen carefully. My daughter is an incredible girl and she means more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. She is one of the most beloved people on this planet in my eyes and that will never ever change. So I need you to understand in no uncertain terms that if anything untoward or, god forbid, unconsenting, happens to her at this dance, or as a result of this dance, I will use every legal resource within my power to make sure you are sent to a jail so deep you will never see the light of day again.” She paused for a moment to let all of that sink in before adding, “Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

He stared at Victoria for a moment before swallowing thickly and answering. “Yes, Mrs. Chase.”

“Good.” She let go of his tie and brushed some dust off his jacket before smiling at him. “Now you two go have a good time at prom.”

He stood there blinking for a second as if trying to determine if that moment had actually just happened or he had imagined it before Maddie called to him that they were going to be late. He hurried down the steps and opened her door for her before heading around to the driver’s side and getting in.

As they drove away Victoria felt Kate walk up beside her and link their arms together. Staring out at the receding tail lights she spoke up. “I don’t know if that was entirely necessary. But I understand why you needed to do it.”

“Yeah” She said, still staring out at the road.

Kate tugged on her arm trying to shake her out of her thoughts before heading back inside. “Come on Tori. I ordered Thai. We can watch movies til she gets back.”

Victoria continued to stand on the steps staring out for a little while longer. Long after the car had gone. Thinking about how grown up her daughters were getting. And maybe wishing, just a little, that she could turn back time, and they could be her little girls again.

[aughtpunk]

The Evils of Truth and Love

Crowley had always been secretly glad his Bulbasaur had never wanted to evolve, if only because there was no way he could fit a Venusaur into the Bentley. Sure, his friends at the time (and his coworkers in the present) gave him a hard time for having a weak Pokémon. The way Crowley saw it is if Bulby was happy, then he was happy. That and it was always hilarious when he switched Bulby out for his Zoroark at the start of a battle. 

“Okay kid, what are the rules?”

“Mwwffh.” 

Crowley glanced over at the passenger seat, not too shocked to see that Warlock was playing on his phone instead of paying attention. He still wasn’t sure if getting him that phone was the best or the worst thing that’s happened in his years of Nanny-ing. Babysitting? Being paid to raise a kid because his parents got bored after they found out they had to change diapers? Crowley liked to think of himself as a Godparent. He had no idea what a Godparent actually did, but the title was pretty cool. 

One of Bulby’s vines shot out from the back seat and yanked Warlock’s phone right out of his hands. Warlock twisted in his seat, trying to grab his phone back only for Bulby to hold it right out of his reach. God, Crowley loved his little plant bastard. He cleared his throat and tried again. “The rules, kid. I need to hear them.”

Warlock let out the best preteen groan he could muster. “Don’t touch anything.”

“And?”

“Really, don’t touch anything.”

“And?”

“Don’t pick a fight with anyone who has Pokémon stronger than me ‘cause no one wants a repeat of what happened to Ligur at last year’s Halloween party.” Warlock said in a bored drone. Which was fake. Crowley knew Warlock loved that story with all of it’s gooey details. His favorite part was the sound Ligur’s shoulder made when the nurse popped it back into its socket. 

“Mmm-hmm. Last rule?”

“If anyone asks why I’m taking pictures I say they’re for my dumb Pokémon-crazy Nanny.” 

“Haha.” Crowley didn’t bother to tell Warlock to stop calling him that. He gave up fighting that nickname years ago. “Surprise bonus rule GO!”

“Seriously do not touch anything.” Warlock crossed his arms. “Can I have my phone back?”

Here it comes. The best part of being Warlock’s caretaker. Crowley tried to bite back a smile as he said, “I don’t know Warlock--”

“Oh no--”

“CAN you?”

Warlock threw back his head and let out the best guttural scream Crowley had heard since the last time he sprung that on the kid. “May I have my phone back? Please?”

“Dunno. What do you think Bulby?”

“Bububububub!” Bulby cackled as she dropped the phone back on Warlock’s lap. As far as Crowley knew she was the only Bulbsaur that could cackle. An impressive feat considering she only used soft bub sounds to do so. At least he had his Bulbasaur to co-parent raising the kid. God. That was a depressing thought. He’s going to need an extra drink tonight just to ease that self-blow.

After carefully illegally parking his Bentley at the perfect angle to ensure the cars in front and in back of him couldn’t get out, Crowley, Warlock, and Bulby stepped out in front of a building that looked far more like a library than a proper lab. Crowley fished out his own phone to double-check the address. “Yeah, this is the place.”

“Really?” Warlock made a face. “Looks dumb.”

“Bulba.” Bulbsaur said, agreeing. 

The three of them stared up at the building in silence together, the spell only broken when Crowley nudged Warlock in the side. “Now, what are we here for?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “For my starter Pokémon ‘cause you won’t let me catch a wild one, even though I could totally do it--”

“Warlock--”

“Cause my Granddad would totally kill you, your Pokémon, and everything else you love and hold dear if I get hurt.” Warlock droned, already looking at his phone again.

“You know, most kids are excited to get their starter.”

Warlock shrugged. “Starters are dumb. They’re all like, soft baby Pokémon you have to use ‘til you can get a cool one. Like an Ekans!”

“You’re not getting an Ekans.” Crowley said for roughly the millionth time in his life. “And don’t let Bulby hear you call her a soft baby. She’ll never forgive you.”

“Buuuuuub.” Bulby threatened. 

“Ugh, fine. But I’m totally trading whatever I’m getting for something cooler.”

“Just stick to the plan, kid.” Warlock was going to that trip as annoying as he possible, wasn’t he? Well, Crowley thought, this couldn’t be worse than the day when he got his starter. Nothing like accidentally sleeping in late and running to the lab just to get your ass kicked by an eleven-year-old with a Charmander. 

With a shrug, Crowley walked in with Bulby and Warlock trailing behind. The inside was almost pitch-black, and had an odd musty smell Crowley couldn’t place. He could vaguely make out shelving and a few machines here or there, but nothing that screamed ‘lab’. Or occupied. Crowley walked over to a desk by the lab’s only window. Someone had left a still-steaming cup of coffee on top of what he was pretty sure looked like important paperwork. He pushed the cup ever-so-slightly aside to get a better look. 

--Unknown Pokémon, mysterious sightings, psychic Pokémon reporting headaches, doomsday cult, reports of Magikarp falling out of the sky--

“Hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here! Let me get the light!” 

A soft buzz filled the lab before the halogen lights above clicked on. They were old enough to have that odd second of weak-flickering light before it turned on properly. In that dim in-between Crowley caught sight of the man he assumed was the lab’s professor wreathed in a halo of light. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

An angel, Crowley thought, a God damned angel. 

“Bub.” Bulby nudged Crowley’s arm with her vine. It didn’t seem to do anything. 

“Hello there!” The professor said as he walked over to Crowley. Oh no, oh no, he was even cuter up close. He was wearing a bowtie. A tartan bowtie. Between that and the blonde curls, Crowley was already long gone. 

“My name is Professor Fell, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Mwuaph.” Crowley answered, sounding a lot like Warlock. He tried again. “My uh, my Godson is here for his starter. Warlock. His name is Warlock and my name is Crowley.”

“Bub!”

“And this is Bulby.”

Professor Fell’s eyes lit right up as he caught sight of the Bulbasaur doing its best to look intimidating. “My heavens! Look at you! Aren’t you a beauty? Goodness, that leaf pattern! Is she from the Kanto region? Oh, and those markings on her feet! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Bulbasaur this old! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, my dear, none of us are getting any younger are we? And in such good shape too! Your trainer must love you a lot!”

Bubly narrowed her eyes at Crowley and somehow put on a shit-eating grin. “Bububububub.”

“Oh no.” Crowley stepped between Bulby and the Professor. “Do not compliment her! She’s already full of herself as is! Bulby, you’re a terrible Pokémon and your leaves are covered in brown spots. Keep up the poor foliage and you’ll be on a one way trip to the garbage disposal.”

“Saur!”

“Goodness,” Professor Fell said with raised eyebrows, “I’ve never seen a Bulbasaur rudely gesture with their vines before, either.” 

“Hey, where are the Pokémon?”

Warlock’s voice was enough to remind Crowley that he was there to do more than gawk at the Professor. That, and his ward had a point. What he thought were shelves in the darkness were computer servers and he couldn’t see a single pokéball anywhere. No free roaming Pokémon either. Back in the day it was unheard of, but these days more and more people walked side-by-side with their companions. 

(At least the people who had reasonably sized ones did. Maybe Professor Fall was the type to have a Wailord as a companion? Or, Crowley thought, the Professor had recently visited Lavender Town, as it were.) 

“Hmm?” Professor Fell said, as if he too just only now remembered Warlock’s existence. “Oh! Yes, I do apologize. Normally I would have some pre-selected Pokémon set out, but, well, my own Godson turned eleven today, you see. He and his friends caused bit of a ruckus so I had to put all of the Pokémon back in The Garden to calm them down. Should be alright now. I think.”

“The Garden?” Both Crowley and Warlock asked, along with a “Bub?” from Bulby.

That was apparently The Right Question as Professor Fell’s eyes lit up. “A little experiment of mine!” He shoved his hand deep into his lab coat’s pocket and pulled out a pokéball with a tartan pattern on the top half. One that matched his bowtie. Crowley might have to lay down to recover from how cute this man was. “A new type of inter-connected storage space for Pokémon! Instead of them being individually stored in a ball this allows them interact with each other while not in active use! Although it is still very early in the project life I have already seen a dramatic increase in not only the well-being of each Pokémon but in friendlier moods as well! Why, just last week I found my Grimer and Jigglypuff playing with each other! Before The Garden they refused to be out of their balls at the same time! Not to mention it's a lot easier to carry one pokéball than six.”

Crowley looked from the pokéball, to the Professor’s glowing smile, back to the pokéball, quick stop at the bowtie, only to land on Professor Fell’s face. “Are you saying all of your Pokémon are in a single ball?”

“Not exactly. But also yes. Would you like to see?”

***

The Lab was far bigger than it looked on the outside. If Crowley hadn’t been preoccupied with Professor Fell he might have noticed that the lab was too big. Bulby had noticed, but her attempts to get her human’s attention off the soft sparkly man leading the way had been futile. She didn’t even know why she was bothering. The entire place could be on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed. Crowley’s crushes were annoying at worst and potentially dangerous at best. 

(Bulby was already dreading Warlock’s first crush. Though he and Crowley weren’t related by blood she just knew deep down he’d act the exact same way. Trying to play cool, fail at being cool, accidentally flood the Rock Gym while also somehow setting it on fire, rinse and repeat.)

Warlock at least had enough sense to keep his head down and his phone out. He didn’t notice the unusual size of the lab, but he was just a little bit sharper than Crowley to catch that something about the place was off. Shadows kept moving in the corner of his eye. He’d hear skittering behind him only to turn around and see nothing. But seeing he was an eleven year old boy (and thus too mature or cool to admit he was scared) Warlock kept his mouth shut instead of alerting the adults. In his defense neither man wouldn’t have been able to hear Warlock over the sound of their bad flirting anyway. 

“--all ‘cept his Magikarp!” 

“No!” Professor Fell replied.

“It’s true! Let them all go! I told him he was a nutter! You’re so damn close to beating the four so why stop now? You know what he did? He laughed at me! Told me not to worry about it.”

“What happened to the poor thing?”

“He won.”

“No!”

“God honest truth! He showed up a week later with a Gyarados and kicked all of their asses! Must have been a one-in-a-million chance of working and the bastard pulled it off. He’s still got his Pokémon Master certificate framed up in his office. The worst part is the League's done everything to forget that little bit of history. Thinks it’s embarrassing.”

“Well! I suppose that’s not a shock. The League is always a bit miffed with non-traditional winners. Remember all the nasty business with that Helix Cult a few years back?”

“Oh yeah. Think I still got my false prophet t-shirt somewhere.”

Professor Fell turned a corner, leading Crowley, Warlock and Bulby to a door with a single round hole in the middle. He smiled at the odd family before taking the tartan ball out of his pocket, popping it into the hole, and pushing the door open. The rush of fresh air slipping in through the doorway was enough to grab everyone’s attention, even Warlock’s. There, on the other side of the door, was a garden. The Garden.

Brilliant sunlight poured down into a small slice of paradise. Through the doorway Crowley could see a waterfall and pond nestled into the forest of strange trees he couldn’t recognize. Nothing on the other side of the door was familiar, yet his soul cried out in the beauty of it. Flowers, berries, music in the air, his brain could barely catch up with what he was seeing. He hadn’t realized he stepped forward until Professor Fell touched his arm to stop him. 

“Steady on, dear, it’s far too dangerous for humans. We’re not meant to go inside pokéballs for a reason.” 

Crowley’s head snapped in Professor Fell’s direction. “That’s what’s inside your pokéball? An entire bloody Safari Zone?!”

“Nonsense! The Safari Zone isn’t nearly as diverse as Eden!”

“Eden?” Warlock asked, looking up from his phone for the first time since they got there.

“The Edenball! It starts for Expanded Dimension Enclosed Nurturing technology!”

Warlock made a face. “Shouldn’t that be Edent?”

“Oh. Right.” The Professor’s smile faded. “Need to work on that last word I suppose. Edent sounds terrible.”

“Bubub.” Bulby agreed.

Professor Fell closed the door and plucked the tartan pokéball out from the hole. “Now, I do believe someone here needs their starter Pokémon?”

“Yes!” Warlock shouted as he pushed his way in front of Crowley. “Yes yes yes! I want something cool!” Like, wicked badass! Something that shoots fire, and is covered in spikes, and and spits poison and is smart enough to do my homework for me and, and--”

Professor Fell cut Warlock off by placing the tartan pokéball in his hand. He gave Warlock a little ‘go on’ nod and smiled. “Just press the button and think about what you truly want in a Pokémon starter.”

Warlock looked to Crowley, who shrugged, then to Bulby, who had stolen his phone and was currently taking a selfie. Considering he was currently surrounded by three adults Warlock felt oddly alone. He pressed the button on the front of the ball and weakly said, “I choose you? Cool Pokémon?”

The pokéball lit up in Warlock’s hands. 

The world held its breath. 

A trainer getting their first Pokémon is Important. Not only as a right of passage, but as a starting point for the long journey ahead. That first Pokémon sticks with you, in a way none of the others do. You could collect every Pokémon in the world-- from a pile of trash to the Gods themselves--but none of them will ever be as important as your starter. The Pokémon you looked at and said yes, yes this one is mine. Crowley had felt that way when he first saw Bulby in Professor Oak’s lab years ago. And at that moment Warlock felt the exact same way as light shot out from the ball and solidified in front of him. 

It was blue. Small. Kind of weak looking. And--

“Is it crying?” Crowley asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“A Sobble!” Professor Fell beamed, “A recently discovered water type! Be very careful, my dear boy, this one is only a few weeks old and might be a little fragile. Pick her, wait let me check, yes pick her up like this. Support her head. There we go!”

Crowley shifted uneasily as he watched Warlock stare down at the crying soft lizard-thing in his arms. His own eyes were beginning to water. Not for the first time he was glad about his always-wearing-dark-glasses habit. That being said he felt like Professor Fell was the type to not judge someone for crying at all. “Kid? You okay?” 

 Warlock lifted his head, his face already covered in tears, with the largest smile Crowley had ever seen on the boy in his entire life. “She’s perfect.”

***

The ride home was thankfully free of any Sobble-related crying. It had taken all four of them to calm the poor thing down. The Sobble had been snuggled up to Warlock’s chest ever since, refusing to move an inch away from her new trainer. Crowley couldn’t help but think back to his first day with Bulby. They had spent most of that first day in the Pokécenter curled up on the floor eating snacks and plotting revenge against that stupid Charmander-owning kid. At least Warlock and his Sobble had a home with a nice warm bed to eat their snacks in. 

“Think of a name yet?” Crowley asked, “one better than Bulby I hope?”

Bulby let out a grunt from the back seat. One that said hey, I like my name! My stupid, stupid name. 

“I was thinking of Sobby.”

Crowley winced. “I said better than Bulby. Better.”

“Sobby’s a good name!” Warlock lifted the Sobble up enough to look her in the eye. “What do you think, Sobby?”

“Sob!” Sobby said, the yellow fin on her head perking up. 

“See! She likes it!”

“No accounting for taste.” Crowley muttered as he parked the Bentley in front of their apartment building. “You got the pictures, right?”

Warlock shifted his arms enough to pull his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Crowley. “Yup. Didn’t see any cameras. Maybe he’s dumb enough not to have any?”

“Or he’s smart enough to hide them.” Crowley said as he flicked through the pictures. He really needed to talk to Warlock about a future in photography. For a kid he took some dynamite pictures even if they were mostly of doors and ventilation shafts. “Tonight’s too soon. I’ll give it a few days--”

“We’ll give it a few days.”

Crowley lifted his head to meet Warlock’s stony gaze. “Kid--”

“Don't you kid me! You said I could team up with you once I got my first Pokémon!” Warlock said, a hairline crack spreading through his words. “You promised!” 

Crowley sighed. He wanted to respond ‘I meant when you got a useful Pokémon’, but the last thing he wanted to do was set Sobby and Warlock off. Deep down he didn’t want to drag the kid into this. Not because of the whole ‘if he gets hurt I’m dead’ thing, but because he honestly liked Warlock. Loved him like the weird nephew he’d always wanted. He had spent the past year hoping Warlock would want to run around the world chasing dangerous monsters like the other kids his age. Or somehow end up too much of a goody-goody to walk down Crowley’s path. But he knew he had been fooling himself. Warlock was born a snake, raised a snake, and was going to fall like the rest of them. And there was nothing Crowley could do to stop it. He looked back over at Warlock only to be greeted by tears pricking the corner of the kid’s eyes. 

Warlock’s family was going to kill him. 

Seeing Warlock get hurt was going to kill him. 

Yet Crowley knew he only had himself to blame. 

Never should have agreed to take care of Giovanni’s grandson.

“Fine.” Crowley said, forcing the worry out of his voice. “But only because this is going to be an easy heist. If everything goes pear-shaped you need to get the hell out of there, understand? And no touching anything! We’re just going there for the Edenball and nothing else!”

“Hell yeah!” Warlock said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “One pokéball? That’s like, nothing! We totally got this! You, me, Bulby and Sobby! We’re going to be awesome!” He raised his hand up for a fist-bump. “Prepare for trouble?”

Crowley smiled and fist-bumped Warlock back. “And make it double.”

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine the Batkids hanging out at like....the food court of a mall or something, Jason keeping paparazzi at bay with finger guns that manage to be wildly ominous even if the gulping paparazzo have no true idea WHY that particular motion from this particular man has cold beads of sweat breaking out on the backs of their necks. Damian loudly proclaiming he hates everything and everyone even though he only half means it, well at least until Tim asks if he needs them to go get him a booster seat. To which Jason stops long enough to cackle about Tim finally finding someone he can actually literally look down on, it must be like Christmas for him, and meanwhile, Duke idly says to no one in particular that he can never decide if he accidentally got adopted into the Addams family, the Manson family or the Kardashians.

“I would be great at being a Kardashian,” Jason muses.

“Well you’re already 90% ass, so you’ve got that going for you,” Steph chirps brightly.

“Die, but for real this time,” Jason volleys back, equally pleasantly.

“I can’t believe the English major is suggesting I plagiarize him,” Steph says with eyes wide in mock bewilderment. Jason scoffs.

“What English major? In case you’ve forgotten, I never even finished high school, I was busy being de - “

He cuts off as Cass holds out her palm and Dick and Duke both slide ten dollar bills across the table to her, accompanied by groans. Tim jabs a finger at her with a scowl, half rising out of his seat in outrage.

“That doesn’t count, he didn’t even finish saying it!”

“Also, you’re cheating,” Damian adds on hotly, too incensed to notice he’s literally standing in solidarity with his most hated enemy. Though Tim catches it, if the slightly constipated look on his face is anything to go by. “Do you really think us so blind we can’t tell that Brown blatantly set that one up for you?”

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game,” Steph says sagely, as she and Cass split the take.

“What the hell just happened?” Jason asks. No one looks anywhere near the zip code of apologetic.

“Well we definitely didn’t all get together once a majority of us had done the knock knock knocking on death’s door thing ourselves and wound up making a long-standing bet about how long you can go without bringing that up and where the clock restarts each time you do,” Steph says thoughtfully, eyes intent even as she stares off into the distance, like it’s an actual mystery and she’s really trying quite hard to scry out the answer.

“What?” Jason says flatly.

“In my defense, they were doing it long before I came along and they said it was like, a family tradition,” Duke offers.

“I mean, it’s not like we lied,” Tim shrugs. “Besides, it was Cass’ idea and she’s died twice, so it’s allowed.”

Jason redirects his ire on their sister. “Why are you the worst.”

She shrugs. “I died.”

“I used to think having a sister would be cool. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“Bite me, little brother,” she says sweetly. His face flames. Detonation imminent.

“I’m older than you!”

“Not if you don’t count the six months you were dead,” she sing-songs. “Besides, Tim’s lying. It was his idea.”

Jason’s head swivels like a turret-mounted missile launcher. Tim chokes on his French fry.

“What the hell! That’s not tr - .” He trails off then, frowning slightly. “Wait, was it? Oh. Right.”

Jason’s eyes narrow, tension on the trigger, but Tim rallies and just shrugs unrepentantly.

“Eh. You’ve tried to kill me like three times. Suck it up.”

“Next time, I’ll be sure to try harder,” Jason growls. Tim smiles serenely and takes an extra obnoxious slurp of his milkshake.

“See? You’ve learned something new today. You’re welcome.”

“Why am I not live-tweeting this,” Steph wonders, yanking out her phone and sending digits swiftly flying across its keys. Dick leans over on her left to view her screen.

“Are you tweeting as Batgirl about her fellow vigilantes, or the random blond stranger always seen out with the Waynes but that no one can determine their connection to?”

“First off, I’m the EXOTIC blond stranger, excuse you. Get it right. And second...idk. Either. Both. Does it really matter?”

“Well, it might if you actually do tweet the same content from both accounts and someone somehow manages to spot some kind of connection,” Tim says dryly. Steph scowls without looking up from her phone.

“Stop oppressing my shenanigans with your logic, Timbleton.”

“Timbleton?”

“It’s my new name for you. For it is both pretentious and douchey, as are you.”

Tim glowers. “Sometimes I honestly can’t remember why I went out with you.”

She shrugs. “You were a fifteen year old virgin and I have a killer rack. It wasn’t that deep.”

“Hey, you are still just the exotic blond stranger seen with us all the time, right?” Dick says suddenly, seemingly lost in thought. “Like, B didn’t adopt you since I last saw you or anything.”

“No, and you know you don’t ACTUALLY have to ask me that every time you see me.”

He shrugs. “I mean I kinda do. You are always here, and it is Bruce. It’s not like he ever tells me when he adopts someone new so like, you could be my sister for four years before I even realized it if I didn’t ask.”

“Ooh. A sighting of Dick angst, spotted in the wild. Those are rare,” Jason snickers. Dick just eyes him.

“FYI, I still have footage of a certain Robin, age fourteen, singing Backstreet Boys. And I have Roy on speed dial. Tread lightly, Little Wing.”

“You said you deleted that!”

“I lied. I do that sometimes. I’m terribly problematic.” Dick beams beatifically.

“Why have I not seen this footage?” Steph shrieks.

“Make me an offer,” Dick says as leans back smugly.

She wastes no time, fingers dancing across her keyboard again, and moments later Dick pulls out his own phone and reads her incoming text. One eyebrow arches significantly.

“That’s an offer, alright.” He frowns. “You came up with that quick. I’m either impressed or disturbed.”

Steph shrugs. “I get bored on stakeouts sometimes.”

“You can be dispressed,” Cass pipes up helpfully. Dick nods solemnly.

“An excellent suggestion, Cassandra, thank you. Just for that, I’ll send it to you too.”

“I will stab you,” Jason says dangerously.

“Just think, Jay, if you didn’t try and stab me all the time already, that might actually be incentive not to....oh whoops, finger slipped, just hit send, how terrible, much regret.”

“I feel like there’s supposed to be a life lesson in there somewhere,” Duke murmurs.

“Stay out of this, new kid on the block.”

“Does that make you Marky Mark or like, Donnie?” Tim wonders idly. He shakes his head at himself then, baffled. “Why do I know the names of the New Kids on the Block?”

Stephanie meanwhile is watching her phone with what can only be described as naked glee. It’s muted - she’s never one to share her spoils freely after all - but apparently that is more than good enough for now as far as she’s concerned. Beside her, Cass intently stares at her own screen, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“I will kill you all someday, and when I do the courts will rule it justifiable homicide and I shall be vindicated.”

“Please, Todd. As if I don’t have contingencies in place to ensure you receive my vengeance even from beyond the grave, should I ever perish at your hands.”

Silence falls across the table as they all stare at Damian.

“See, now I’m dispressed,” Tim says. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to take a guided tour of your brain, but then I think why not wait til Halloween and sell tickets too.”

Damian glares at him, but to the surprise of everyone, Tim included, he reacts no further than that. A few seconds later though, Duke bolts upright in his chair across from him, directing his own baleful glare at the smaller boy. Damian just stares at him meaningfully and jerks his head in Tim’s direction. Duke rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Shut your facehole, Drake, you blithering dolt,” Duke says robotically. “Also, you are excessively diminutive for your age and nobody likes you. Allegedly.”

Once more silence reigns supreme.

“Oh fuck, can he possess people now?” Jason asks.

Dick waves them all down, gesturing for quiet before he takes the lead, studying Duke with an intent focus. “I think I speak for all of us here, when I say: no, but seriously, what the actual fuck.”

Cass nods gravely. “What he said.”

Duke shrugs a half-hearted apology. “It’s nothing personal Tim. It’s just that Damian and I have an alliance, and part of the terms are I have to defend his honor, since - and I quote - ‘tt, the very notion I need assistance defending my actual person is laughable, Thomas, don’t be daft.’”

“Wait, we’re doing alliances now?” Steph asks, because of course that would be the part that catches her attention. “I want an alliance. Cass, make an alliance with me.”

“Kay.”

“Whose idea was this alliance, anyway?” Jason asks. Duke just shrugs again, this time defensively.

“Hey don’t look at me, Dick’s the one who apparently thought it was a good idea to introduce Damian to Survivor reruns.”

All eyes turn to the eldest. In a particularly accusatory fashion.

Well, with the exception of Damian, as he has returned to his meal and is quite contentedly dining with a distinct air of smugness about him. (Even more so than usual.)

“What? I couldn’t get him to agree to watching anything else on TV, and then we came across some reruns and I thought it might appeal to him.”

“And you saw no potential drawbacks to him seeing appeal in the basic premise of voting people off the island?” Jason asks skeptically. Dick picks up a fry and studies it with clear deliberation and an equally clear attempt at avoidance. Subtlety, thy name is not Grayson.

“In hindsight, it’s possible mistakes were made.”

“I mean, at least now Dami’s attempts at casting undesirables out of the family are rooted in democracy instead of totalitarianism. That’s progress, right?” Steph asks. Heavy on the uncertainty.

“Right, and I have some beachfront property in Kansas to sell you,” Tim says sardonically.

“Nah, you keep it. I’ll just get it in the divorce when we get back together in ten years, marry, and I abscond with half of your fortune.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shh, just let it happen.”

“Hang on, back to this alliance,” Jason says, turning back to Duke. “So what are you getting out of it?”

“Oh, he has to do my calc homework for the rest of the semester,” Duke replies.

“Duke, you should have just told one of us you needed some help with your homework,” Dick says with an unmistakable note of concern in his voice. Duke shoots him a quizzical look.

“I don’t. I just don’t want to do it.”

“This is why Duke is the most valid,” Steph nods knowingly. Cass nods in agreement.

“Hey, did nobody else notice that in essence, Damian implicitly admitted he needed help protecting his feelings from getting boo-boos,” Tim pipes up oh so casually. The youngest among them narrows his eyes.

“In my spare time, I peruse the occult tomes recommended by Raven and the Zatara brat in search of a ritual that will make it so you never existed in the first place,” he says, matching his tone to Tim’s conversational one. Not deterred in the slightest, Tim just adopts an expression of over the top faux sympathy.

“Sucks you can’t just ask me for help. I already know where one of those is.”

“Dami, no!” Dick speaks up sharply. Their little brother slumps back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t actually going to do anything, Grayson,” he sulks. Dick snorts.

“You were absolutely about to jump on top of the table and kick Tim in the face. Don’t even try and pretend I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I was an only child once,” Jason muses. “I should have appreciated it more.”

“But then you couldn’t form an alliance with me, little brother,” Cass points out, equal parts sweetness and wickedness. He hesitates, visibly torn between wanting to protect his vaunted older brother status and agreeing to an alliance with the most feared of them all.

“You’re evil.”

She shrugs but doesn’t contest the point.

“I’ll form an alliance with you, Cass,” Tim says, smirking at Jason.

“No thanks.”

Tim’s mouth falls open and he looks between her and his now cackling older brother. “What the hell? You’ll form an alliance with Steph and Jason but not with me? Why not?”

“I’m chaotic neutral,” their sister explains sunnily, as she steals some more of Dick’s fries.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 1 : Section 5 : In and Out of the Basement

After you helped Trick survive and return home through a breaking and entering to steal antipsychotics for his little brother, Blue begins to remember who he was before Anti wormed his way inside his head. His plans are stopped in mid-thought, however, by the appearance of Anti on the stairs – wearing Dapper’s body like an outfit. All Blue and Red can do until the morning comes is look after Dok and Trick and hope nothing goes wrong…

Trigger warnings: torture, injury, blood, panic attack, major abuse, and abuse between brothers.

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

 Part Five of Chapter One: In and Out of the Basement

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Okay, Anti, I have to ask. Do your "brothers" remember you wearing them?

“Oh, yes.”

He signs slower than Dapper does. His hands move like he is wrapping spider web around his fingers.

“Much of it, anyway… Not the things that I do, so much, but the sensation of me, in their heads… the pounding of blood through a body that no longer answers to you… the warmth of my presence, the cold when I go… Red, when he was still barely mine, once described it as being tarred and feathered from the inside… hot, choking, revolting, til the numbness comes… and then it is pleasant, he said, and he sank back into my power. Afterwards, they’re often sick. Jack made me something of a virus, you understand, I can’t help but make them ill sometimes. You don’t know how unfair it is, to be a curse to everyone around you.”

He pauses, staring at the window, where he thought he saw a flash of something big and black moving.

“But the only one who can’t seem to stomach it is my little Trickshot. The others recover well enough.”

There’s a slight tapping on the window. Anti frowns, considering getting up to investigate.

Anonymous asked: Do you have a favorite brother to wear, Anti? What is it like for you?

Anti pauses, looking at you. He smiles for a second, and then frowns again, thoughtful, or perhaps even sad. He stares out the window.

“There’s a completion to incarnation. You no longer feel so much like you are out of place, accidental, meant for another world. Everything is connected better. Everything is sharper, closer, more real. When I touch things there is an intimacy to it.“

He sighs and puts Dapper’s head in his hands.

“None of them fit quite right, though. Jack never gave me my own flesh. Guess I wasn’t worth it. Dapper fits nice. Even when he was Jameson, he fit nice. He is strong in a sense that is difficult to find, and I like the way I can feel his power, like water dripping through my hands.”

He looks down at the hands, then at the body. “Do you think he’s getting skinny?” he asks, frowning, plucking at the buttons of the dress shirt. “He never seems to change… even things I expect to scar disappear sometimes… he’s resilient, Jack ensured it. His little problem-fixer.”

Anti scowls and hugs himself, rocking slightly on the floor, or maybe it’s Dapper who’s rocking.

“Mine now,” sulks Anti, rubbing his shoulders. “Mine now.”

oasisofgalaxies asked: Anti, what’s your definition of love? What does it feel like for you?

Anti’s eyes narrow. “What does it matter?” he snaps. “As if it means anything! What is love to me? It’s sociology, anthropology, a little dopamine and oxytocin. Humans use it to ensure that other people protect them and their babies when they themselves are indisposed. They will die for it, sometimes, slaves to their own neurohormones.”

He snaps his teeth slightly, turning away.

“To feel it is useless. It makes me warm and not much else. Sometimes it even makes me want to protect them, but this is just the small part of me that is human too, and easily thrown off.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe you should see who it is that's knocking. It could be Jack.

Anti rolls his eyes, scowling at the name, but nevertheless he gets to his feet. Crawling onto the bed, he gets up on Dapper’s knees and opens the window, peering out -

Poe bounces down from atop the window, close to his face, and Anti gasps, recoiling with a look of real shock on his face. Poe squawks indignantly as the window is slammed shut on her, tapping insistently as Anti, clutching at his face, voiceless groaning rising from his chest. He stalks over to the bathroom, abandoning you on the bed, and you hear the water begin to run as he scrubs his face clean, splashing it in his face again and again, gagging and hissing through Dapper’s teeth.

Anonymous asked: Anti, please don't. Dapper has you but sometimes it's not enough. He gets lonely and the bird is his only other company. It never even inside the house! It won't make him sick!

“Disgusting, disgusting, revolting!”

He stalks back out of the bathroom panting and disappears, only to return a minute later with a padlock clutched in his hands. Still hissing, he crawls back onto the bed and sits up, slamming the window out hard enough to scare Poe away, and then drawing it back and locking the window with a snap of the padlock.

“Fucking thing,” snarl his hands as he draws back, sinking back onto the bed, a little paler than he was a minute ago. “Touched my baby! Fuck, I’ve been sleeping in the same bed with him and he - ”

Anti shakes his head, gagging. “Just be glad I don’t kill the fucking thing!”

Anonymous asked: Actually, still curious, why are you wearing Dapper now? Do you have a reason?

This brings a bit of a smile back to Anti’s mouth. Cooling, he sits back on the bed, his silver-blue eyes flashing.

“I heard what your precious Marvin was saying, you know… maybe you should talk to him and try to figure out why I would do this. Unless you’re all too stupid.”

just-a-youtubers-blog asked: Why can't Trickshot stomach it?

“I don’t pretend to understand it. We’ve had some nasty chores to do together, of course, but that’s true for all his brothers. Just weaker than the rest of them, I suppose. I haven’t asked him. He cries when I bring it up. It’s exhausting to watch.”

loganandoli asked: Hey Anti! I just realized that we’ve never really seen your room. Do you mind if you could go and give us a bit of a tour? Your favorite rooms and spots, etc?

“Oh, okay. I can take you around upstairs. There’s not a lot to see, but it’s bigger than our last house.”

He picks the camera up and heads out into the hall, panning around a little so you can see Dapper’s art and the one ruined wall where his art used to be. From there, he turns away from the stairs and back towards his office, unlocking the padlock on the door and pushing his way in.

His room was clearly abandoned for a long time before he moved in, but he’s cleaned it meticulously and then splayed wires and cords all over the room instead. You even see a small satellite dish in the corner, maybe for internet. You sort of doubt Anti’s trying to get cable.

He can’t speak, but he holds a hand up proudly to point at an assortment of computers, phones, radios, and more, buzzing warmly in a corner. Most of them seem to be running programs, a couple computers have youtube pulled up, and the radio is reading the news to him in French.

He pulls open the closet too, revealing an extensive menagerie of cameras, security sensors, knives, guns, voice recorders, a microphone, headphones, a box full of memory sticks and hard drives, a couple more buzzing computers, a fucking bear trap, whips, some sort of black mask, boxes of medicine, bloodstains, some cash fluttered to the ground, and several outfits falling off hangers, obscuring whatever else is in this bizarre little storage closet.

Anti sets you down on the floor of his room and sits down, pulling a computer into his lap. “It’s going to be a pain to move,” he admits before he gets to work. “But this is my set-up! Click that like button, gamers.”

Dapper’s chest shakes with silent laughter and Anti sighs warmly, drawing in on himself. “Was that all you wanted to see?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What's the point in having a bedroom if you're never in it? You and Dap seem to be snuggly enough.

“It’s an office, not a bedroom! I work in here, even Dapper can’t come in.”

loganandoli asked: Basically yep! Also anti, what were your other houses like? Were they bigger or smaller then this one? Did everyone ever have their own room?

“The last one we were at was smaller, but we’ve moved around from place to place. Stayed in some motels when it was just Red and Dapper and I.”

Anti’s signs for his boys are different than Dapper’s. Red’s is “fight” mixed with the word for the color red, and Dapper’s is a D with the tapping of the wrist for “time.”

“Sometimes we’ve all been in the same room, but no one ever sleeps entirely alone. When it was just the three of us, Red would sleep on the floor beside us even if there were other rooms. And then with Doktor for a while, and then him and Doktor and Trick. But no one ever sleeps alone in a room, it’s not healthy. Someone should be watching. Someone should be there.

“I liked the last house quite well. We were in the middle of town, close enough that I could feel all the signals buzzing around. Maybe I’ll take us back to a city again someday.”

just-a-youtubers-blog asked: No, I meant, like, what happens afterward? Is it a blow to his self-esteem, does he get really apathetic or tired, (gasps) does he… does he remember being Chase afterward? Is that it? Tell us! I wanna know! (I'm acting like a gossipy teen for this, if the text doesn't tell you) (It's hard to interpret tone in text, so… that's my tone) (y'know… waving my hands in front of my face like I'm hot, stuff like that)

Anti eyes you carefully. “After I wear Trick? He gets sick for a while, and then just needy. Wildly needy. Begging for attention, begging desperate for attention, crying and clinging to me, asking to sleep with me, to stay close to me, saying he feels bad, saying he’s afraid. Has these huge freak-outs, screaming and crying and nightmares, getting triggered by small things, sometimes several times a day, calling for me and all his brothers, even Red and Dapper sometimes.”

Anti pauses. “I don’t do it so much anymore,” he says. “Used to wear him often… but sometimes, afterwards, he even begins to talk about dying, about blood, in a way that I don’t like me, joking about it but… not joking. So I rarely wear him, and make sure Dok can watch over him afterwards.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Don't you think the others feel a little...I don't know, isolated, from the world? Makes it hard for them to blend in when they go into town when they don't really interact with normal people, don't you think?

“Isolated? What do they need the world for? They have each other. They have me. They wouldn’t be safe if they weren’t isolated, anyway. Definitely all go to jail, at the very least.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey, Dok? Any update on what's going on down there?

It’s hard getting Dok up the stairs.

Neither of their older brothers are well enough to help and Doktor is a shivering mess, stiff as bone, almost too clammed up to move. “You’re okay, man,” promises Trick again and again, trying to get him to his feet. “You’re okay, he’s not going to hurt you, he’s not going to hurt you.”

But Dok’s been in the basement too many times to relax, and he’s already too deep in his panic to make out most of what Trick is saying. All he can do is try to cooperate, managing to sling an arm over Trick’s shoulder, and let his brother half-carry him up the stairs, whispering reassurances.

Trick is slicked in sweat and pumped up with adrenaline, but as soon as they’re back in the nest, he shatters like glass, both of them collapsing into their blankets and coats and clothes, lying side-by-side and face-to-face. He doesn’t even notice Red’s presence until their brother is beside them, calling their names anxiously, and Trick doesn’t even have the strength to be vigilant about the danger he represents. He just wants to be fucking held.

Red rubs at his back and Trick begins to cry, hard, clutching Doktor, who’s gone silent beside him, eyes closed, shaking hard, hard, but only minutely, paralyzed and numb.

Blue watches from a few feet away. His hands are gripped into fists.

He has to get them out of here.

He has to get them all out of this place.

But first, he just has to try to get them through this night.

Anonymous asked: Anti, how often do you physically leave the house? Like you have Red and Trickshot run errands all the time, but what do you ever leave for?

“Physically? Physically I leave only when I am very bored or there is someone who I must hunt down. But often my mind is faraway. I can go anywhere, you know. I can go anywhere. I am everywhere.”

cest-mellow asked: hello anti, how are you? can i ask why you don’t like animals very much?

Anti’s eyes widen and then narrow into a furious scowl, not fit for Dapper’s face. Wiping at his cheek where the bird touched him, he reaches up to turn off the camera, just like that.

Well, then.

Anonymous asked: Big scary man who turns into big scary dog is scared of small friendly raven.

Red glances up, the message reaching him instead of Anti. For a second, he looks wildly, skittishly delighted.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, his face turning red as he tries not to laugh. “Shut up, dude, he’ll kill you if he hears that. How the hell did you find out about that? He hates living animals, holy shit. Keep your voice down, haha! Oh, I should not laugh. I should not…”

Anonymous asked: Blue be cautious. Anti is making a show of force by wearing Dapper around. He's in control and wants you to know it. You need to make a "show" of compliance. Just... wait.

Frustrated, Blue nevertheless nods. “He’s really punishing Dapper for what I did, huh? I don’t understand, why would he possess him just because I was saying that…”

spicydanhowell asked: oh babies :( it's gonna be ok. if someone can help dok stay grounded itd help a lot. anything you can do to bring him out of his head. try using physical pressure, eye contact, try and get him to respond somehow

Red leans over his brothers like he might try some of your suggestions, but he’s not up to eye contact or touch right now.

“Here, let me,” croaks Blue, reaching out for help at the bottom of the stairs.

Red hurries over to him and helps him limp up the stairs, clutching at the wounds across his chest, healing slowly. He and Red fall to their knees besides their little brothers, and Blue reacts as though on instinct, kneeling above Doktor and then just crushing into something like a hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and clutching him tight, tight, stroking the back of his neck while Doktor shakes.

“Poor guy, poor guy,” mumbles Marvin, leaning down to press their foreheads together, waiting for Doktor to open his eyes. “It’s okay, Dok. It’s okay.”

He sits holding him for a long time, til Doktor’s staring up at him, his mouth trembling but his body relaxing.

“Kit,” he whispers, closing his eyes again.

“What? It’s Blue, Dok.”

“No… med - med k-kit…”

Blue draws back, alarmed. “You hurt?”

Trick is already dashing to the cupboards and back, returning with the med-kit. They all watch in worried anticipation as Doktor, with shaking hands, draws back his sleeves to reveal his scarred up wrists, takes a sewing needle out of his kit, and draws back -

“Dok, no!” cries Trick, grabbing his hand out of the air before he can stab himself with the needle, aiming for a long pink scar down from his elbow. “No, no, you’re not bleeding, it’s not open!”

“He cut me!” shrieks Doktor, scrabbling at the clean scar with his free hand. “He cut me, I need to stitch it up, I’m bleeding!”

“You’re not, you’re not! Dok!”

Red snatches the needle out of his hand and closes the kit back up, moving away to return it to the cupboard while Blue and Trick restrain their brother. Doktor begins to sob, moaning and clawing at his body, pulling at old scars.

Blue and Trick both help hold him down for a long time, rocking, calling his name, stroking his back. “Maybe he needs a sedative,” pants Blue, crushing his shoulders again, which seems to calm him down.

“We’re not allowed to give sedatives unless someone’s actually hurt.”

Marvin remembers your warning to lay low and acquiesces, though a low growl rises from his throat.

Doktor falls asleep eventually anyway, clinging to Trick’s shirt, mumbling his name.

Trick stares down at his brother, stroking his hair. His eyes are so exhausted he looks like a blind man.

“Hey,” murmurs Blue, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Trick doesn’t answer, staring.

“Hey,” repeats Blue.

“Will you crush me too?” asks Trick.

Blue can’t help but laugh. “Come again?”

Trick looks right up at him, face blank. “Crush me too? H-hold me like that?”

Blue’s smile fades away. Serious now, he moves gently forward, and wraps his arms around Trickshot, and squeezes him as tight as he fucking can.

Trick cries against his chest.

“It’s okay,” mumbles Marvin, knocking their heads together hard. “It’s okay. We’re okay for tonight, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I won’t go anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“We can all sleep up here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Trick sobs and sobs. Red returns to their side, his face sad, and comes to sit beside them, watching over Dok.

“I got you,” Marvin reassures, again and again and again. “It’s okay, I got you, I got you, I got you.”

Anonymous asked: oh Man, you guys hAve been thRough a lot tonight. you must be Very exhausted IN light of all this. perhaPs it will heLp get your minds off of All this if you wiNd down and go to sleep ?

The boys exchange nervous glances - even Doktor shifts in his sleep, grimacing against Marvin’s thigh. But they’re good at taking orders, and exhausted. Red brings his sleeping bag over and sets up in the corner, watching over them, while Trick curls up in his blankets at Doktor’s side, near to Marvin.

Marvin, though - Marvin stays awake.

He stares at you through the darkness, his face set and ferocious, protective.

I’m going to save them. I’m going to save all my brothers. I’m not going to let them get hurt.

Someone has to keep watching. Someone always has to be watching. Tonight, it is Marvin’s turn. But the danger is already in the house with him, and he curls low over his brothers’ bodies, and holds them close, wishing that Jameson were here as well. He does not sleep the whole night through. He is trying to remember.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin, you gotta think of something, and fast. You're all safe for now, for sure, but keep your wits about you. There's too much power in that house.

Marvin’s exhausted eyes well with tears as he stares up at you.

“I… I had some plans, to get them all out of here… I think I remember bits and pieces of hiding around this town, of the way I came here, of how we could get away, especially if we all worked together… but the problem is…”

Marvin’s head drops. He strokes Trick’s hair, tears dripping down his face.

“I can’t leave any of them behind. Not one, not one. They need me here. I need to be here. That’s why Anti put on Dapper. I understand now. You all told me to remember all four of my brothers, that I loved and tried to protect all of them. I know that’s true, and so does he. I can’t go without all of them, so Anti made it impossible for me to take them all… I can’t get to Jameson without Anti.

“I can’t escape. I’d have to leave Jamie behind, with Anti wearing him, chained up better than if he were tied up and locked in the basement…”

Wiping furiously at his eyes does little to dry Marvin’s face. “You know, he’s the one I haven’t seen in the longest,” he sobs. “I remember losing him, and all of us being so afraid. It’s been months. I’ve barely laid eyes on him. I don’t know if he’s okay - he must be so miserable all the time. My poor little brother. I can’t leave him behind. I can’t leave at all.”

cest-mellow asked: don’t worry marvin, it’ll be okay. anti can’t wear jamie forever right? i bet he’ll become lonely, or he might need a hug or something. maybe you can use that to your advantage..?

Marvin pauses, staring, considering. “You’re right… right? Surely you must be… surely he can’t wear Jamie forever…”

Anonymous asked: Anti is overconfident if he thinks he can wear Jameson 24-7 AND expect him to still have the energy to turn things back if things go awry. Look where Anti ISN'T looking, Marv, and be patient.

“Right, right,” mumbles Marvin, getting lost in thought. “That’s good, that’s really good… maybe there’s even a way I can wear him out… or trick him into letting Jay go…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What if you sneak out in pairs? Get a few out at a time or something? Or a decoy!

Marvin nods slowly. “Hm, yeah… If I could convince someone to run the next time he sends them into town or something….”

He sighs, his hand rubbing down Trick’s back. “They just seem so convinced, though. I don’t know. Maybe they’re just too far gone. Maybe I’m just paranoid, tricking myself. Anti seems bad, yeah, but I don’t remember much… maybe I’m confused, maybe I should be here…”

His eyes cloud over slightly.

“I seem to remember something nice with Anti,” he says softly, a smile playing along his mouth. “Like… him holding me. And it was warm, and I was sure of everything… no confusion, just… Anti.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, are you maybe thinking of Jack?

Marvin stills, staring at the ground.

“I don’t think so,” he says, after a very long time. “I don’t remember who that is at all.”

Anonymous asked: Uh oh, we're losing the cat

Marvin blinks, suddenly anxious, trying to remember something he’s forgotten. “Who’s the cat? Is that why Anti calls me Kitten?”

Anonymous asked: Trust your instincts on this one, Marvin. One good deed by Anti, real or fake, doesn't measure up to the infinite amounts of abuse he's put--and will continue to put-- you and your family through.

“Right, right… the warmth is just… a trick, it’s just… he’s not really good, even though he feels like he is when you look at him…”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin, whenever you feel yourself slipping away into Blue, let this thought ground you again: Anti hurt your brothers and made them thank him for it.

Marvin’s heart drops into his stomach. For a second, he can only breathe through the words.

“Oh, oh,” he whispers, clenching his fists tight, digging his nails into his palms. “He did, he did.”

He is curled low over Doktor’s body, breathing through his teeth.

“Anti hurt my brothers and made them thank him for it.”

cutiepotato777 asked: Happy Birthday Glitchy Boy! Whatcha gonna do for your birthday? (This was not the 31st, but the anniversary of the first day Anti glitched on Jack’s channel)

He scowls, bent low over his computers. “By all means, let’s celebrate the first day I was used as a fucking prop to win some bitch boy internet points. Nothing, I’m not celebrating. Probably need to break that fucking cat back in today, though. I want to see if I can get him fully under within a month. Took me two for Trick and Dok. Want to break my record. That would be worth celebrating.”

Anonymous asked: Anti have you tried to wear Blue before, when you were resetting him maybe? Or is this something you're holding off on?

“I haven’t yet…. possession does not generally lend itself to fondness, which is the most important thing to cultivate in the first few months. But if I need to, I will. I wonder if his magic burns.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marv, i'd be on your best behaviour. Anti is SUPER sour today, it seems.

Marvin can’t help but laugh at that. “Sour, huh? Fuck… okay. Yeah.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe ask Red how much he remembers? I think he's gonna be your strongest ally right now.

Red glances over at you, still snuggled up in his sleeping bag by the window. He’s only been awake for a couple minutes and he’s surprisingly comfy, even in the cold. He can’t remember the last time he woke up without feeling lonely. I mean. He can’t remember the last time he woke up at all before yesterday, but whatever.

“That’s a good question,” says Marvin, looking up at him. “What do you remember?”

“What do you?” asks Red sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

Marvin shrugs, scooting closer to sit next to his brother’s legs, dangling off the sill. “Just bits and pieces. A couple names, a couple places. Sensations, more than anything else… like there’s all these places in my brain where a memory should be, but… it isn’t.” He pauses, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his other hand. “I don’t even know who I was… just a tiny bit of who I am.”

Red sniffs and turns to look out the window, shrugging. Marvin waits patiently for him to speak, eventually nudging his knee.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere but here,” he says tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone but Anti’s. I remember Trick and Doktor a little, the boy in the attic a little. Some fights, some… scary nights. Some of my scars help me remember. I think, for the most part, it’s just been me, hiding behind the island, for a very long time.”

There’s a pause. The birds are singing in the trees.

“I don’t think you were with me,” says Red, his voice heavy. “And I think it was very painful. Maybe it’s better we don’t remember.”

Anonymous asked: so anti... how are you going to break blue in? are you hypnotizing him again or (fuck) something else?

“I’ve had to find different techniques for every one of them, they all react differently. Protective Jackie, needy little Chase, ferocious Jamie, proud Henrik… I’ll have to experiment with Marvin. Already stripped half of who he is away. Just have to see what makes him tick. Why, you have suggestions?”

nikkilbook asked: Help them remember kindness. Trick and Red have both said that they get angry because it hurts less to be hateful, be violent, that that’s how they protect each other and themselves from even more pain. And as much as it will hurt and as dangerous as it might be, you’ve GOT to remember kindness. Remember what real love feels like. See all the ways Anti is hollow in comparison. Make them feel safe for little seconds in between. Make them remember that they are worth the world.

Marvin nods slowly, closing his eyes. “I… think I can do that. I have to be here. Have to be what they need me to be. I can be kind. I can be good to them. This is my family, after all, even if I barely remember them.”

He tugs on Red’s pant leg, grinning up at him. “Hey. Come down here so I can change your bandages and then let’s get everybody up for some breakfast. Yeah?”

Anonymous asked: Mr. Love-is-just-chemicals-we-live-in-a-society-and-has-read-exactly-one-psychology-article-to-know-how-people-work wants suggestions, everybody!

Anti laughs. The laugh becomes a cough. It tickles in his chest and makes him laugh again, harder. Dapper’s face is somewhat pallid.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Do you have a favourite to wear, birthday boy?

Anti puffs up, a little pleased with the attention despite himself. “Probably Carver,” he says. “He’s been mine the longest and he’s comfy, familiar. I like the way his hands move, he’s a knife-thrower like me. But I like Red too, he’s gotten so strong again and he’s almost as quick as my Carver.”

Anti pauses, thinking.

“Maybe that’s what we’ll do today,” he signs, glancing down at Dapper’s body. “Maybe it’s time for a good tussle.”

nikkilbook asked: Uhm. I would just like to point out that you made Dapper cough just by laughing a minute ago. Maybe extreme physical activity is not the best idea right now. Plus also, Red still has a head wound. Maybe don’t engage in activities that might seriously damage them.

“I’ve put them through worse.”

Anonymous asked: So do you prefer what kills them to make them stronger or weaker? Because I think what kills them is going to make them dead, and because consequences be damned, you'll just make your *very fatigued* puppet undo your mess, right?

Anti drums Dapper’s fingers against the floor, growling to himself, a breathy, voiceless noise like a snake hissing. “Red’s lucky I’ve taught him to fight under pressure,” he signs, but he seems to be cooling on the idea.

“Is he really so bad off? Why’s my Doktor not doing more? Didn’t he stitch it up? He stitches up all his other wounds and then there’s only that one area I have to be careful with. Isn’t his skull supposed to be thick? Why are you humans so frail?”

He chews on Dapper’s nails for a second, and then seems to catch himself in the act and stops, sighing. “They wear out so fast.”

He rubs at a deep scar on Dapper’s tummy, beginning to feel tired. He should have slept or eaten or something.

Anonymous asked: Trickshot, Someone, are you guys awake yet?

You find them cheerfully eating breakfast downstairs, bagels with peanut butter, sitting in a circle with blankets wrapped around shoulders. Doktor isn’t eating, but he’s awake, at least, lying against Trick’s shoulder and holding his brother’s hand. Trick waves at you, wiping peanut butter off his chin. “What’s up?”

He still looks shaky, but he’s happy this morning.

Anonymous asked: Goodness, you sound so petulant about their limits being so different from yours. Isn’t that what makes it fun? Their limits are what enable you to play with them so thoroughly; wear them out, push them past their limits, toy with pushing those limits further. But every knife has two edges.

“There are limits that benefit me,” Anti admits. “Making Henrik scream when he swore to God he never would, getting Chase to beg for me because no one’s touched him for two weeks, watching Jackie get thinner and thinner… but if they’re always weak, what’s the fun in that? Over far too soon if you can be broken with a crack of the skull.”

He stares blankly into the distance, flipping a knife in his hand once, twice, before letting it thunk back to the ground.

“I hate them,” he tells you suddenly, still staring away. “I hate all of them. Their weakness. The parts of them that remind me of him.

“Some days I dream about taking them to a cliff and telling them all to walk off, one by one… But then, I suppose I’d be…”

He doesn’t know what. Lonely? Drifting? Unprotected?

“I need them for my plans,” he concludes finally, closing his eyes. “I must love them a little if I keep them around at all. I… think that’s right.

“Anyway, you’re right. I must watch their limits. Push them, but not too far. Break but in the right way. That’s the only way I’ve been able to keep them all so far.”

cest-mellow asked: anti, why don’t you take a break? you should eat, or let dapper eat and rest, he’s probably going to be really sick if you wear him for so long. maybe you can rest too, lay with him or take a walk...? you deserve to have a moment of peace today, don’t you think?

“I have to take care of the body,” says Anti flatly, getting to his feet. He’ll eat, maybe, drink some water too, but he won’t let Dapper go without good reason. “A walk might be good. I love the ocean where the water crashes hard against the rocks.”

Anonymous asked: You guys have any routines you do everyday?

“That’s a good question,” says Trick, and turns to his brothers - only Doktor’s practically numb against his should, and Red and Blue stare blankly at him, waiting for the answer too. He can’t help but laugh a little.

“You usually go for a run,” he tells Red. “But I wouldn’t advise it today. You sort through all our supplies, everything we have, meticulously. Sometimes Anti calls you upstairs and I don’t know what you do… work, he calls it, chores. Often he has errands for you outside of the house. You check and reset the traps, eat and make sure we have too, run again, watch the birds… there’s a ball in your corner, I used to hear you throwing it around a lot. Sometimes Anti would go walking with you…”

Trick trails off, a brief flash of something like jealousy or grief flickering over his face. He readjusts and continues.

“Me and Dok have lots we do, but I’m nocturnal most days cause I’m on watch. He’ll read to me and run me through some exercises. Says I get stiff sitting up all night. In the morning, we go to the laundromat when we need to, and we eat and wash and clean up our nest and stuff.”

He pats proudly at his blankets and clothes.

“Then I go to sleep and you - ” He squeezes Dok’s hand and turns to glance at him - “What do you do, man? Color and read and memorize all our books. He can do the first four chapters of the Hobbit without looking, you know.

“There used to be more for us to do before we came here. Anti had us in the other countries for different reasons, not just tracking down Blue, so we all had things to do. Dok ran a clinic and everything. That’s how Anti caught that mafia kid he wanted - came to Dok cause he couldn’t go to the hospital, and then Anti had him. But now… yeah. We try to stay entertained around here. I miss when Anti let us have our music players.”

Anonymous asked: Are there ever days where you don't see Anti at all? How long were Anti and Red gone when they were out looking for Blue?

“Yeah, there are days we don’t see him! Sometimes a really, really long time for Dok and I. In the place we were living like… two countries ago, Anti was often gone, and left Red at home with us. He stays at home now more since wh-what happened, but…”

Dok shivers and clutches at his stomach. Outside, he thinks he hears… dogs? Or people, or something? But everyone else is listening to Trick. He hides his face against his shoulder and tries not to think about it.

“We’ve been here trying to catch Blue for ‘bout three weeks.”

Blue startles. “Have you?”

“You must be good at hiding,” says Red.

“You are,” admits Trick. His gun is farther from his hand than you’ve ever seen it at home. He looks happy. “Haha, I was starting to think it was another dead end. But here you are!”

He beams at Marvin. Marvin can’t help but smile back at the full force of it. This guy is too sweet to be Anti’s sniper.

“Anti and Red were gone maybe four hours. I think Anti found exactly where he was, and then it was just the walk and the fight and bringing him back home.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red! What if there was an errand that you and Blue needed to run? *cough* Marvin *cough* an opportunity *cough*

“Um.” Red squints thoughtfully, glancing over at Marvin. “If I think of anything, I guess I’ll see if Anti will let him come along. I probably need to get rid of the Percocet Trick grabbed… unless Dok or Anti wants it, I guess.”

Anonymous asked: You gonna eat anything, Dok?

He stares numbly down at the little bit of food before them, his new glasses sitting low on his nose. Trick nudges him and reaches out to pull the bagels closer, but Doktor just shakes his head and hides his face in his twin’s shoulder.

“Come on, bud,” insists Trick, rubbing his back. “Here, come on, have some of mine.”

He tears off a bit of bagel and peanut butter and holds it up to his brother’s face. After a moment, Doktor reaches up to take it and puts it in his mouth, chewing slowly and burying himself back in Trick’s sleeve.

Trick sighs.

“He often gets like this?” asks Marvin, worried.

“No,” mumbles Trick. “Usually he’s more violent when he’s upset.”

“Well, how often does he get upset?”

Trick flinches and tugs Dok a little closer, looking warily up at Blue. He’s not used to telling anyone about Dok’s breakdowns - he never knows if he’ll be answered with sympathy or frustration.

“Not often,” he manages finally.

Marvin hums, his eyes narrowing slightly. Trick shrinks back nervously, only for Marvin to take his chin carefully in his hand and tip his head back up.

“Tell me the truth,” says Marvin, a blue light flashing through his eyes.

Trick’s shoulders slump with resignation - and maybe a little relief, too, to have a confidant for something they have been struggling with for months.

“Maybe three times a week, he gets where I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself,” he croaks. “But the really bad breakdowns, where he’s wild, where he might attack me… I don’t know, maybe once a month. He scares me. And then he doesn’t remember well afterwards, and he tells me it didn’t even happen.”

Dok shakes against his shoulder. Trick grips him tight, looking up at Blue like he expects him to fix it.

Marvin lays a hand on his shoulder and strokes the side of his neck with his thumb. “Okay,” he sighs, drawing away. “Okay, we can work with that. It’s going to be okay.”

Dok just hides, his hands curling around the scars all over his body, wondering why he can still smell the blood.

Anonymous asked: Are you ok, Dok... ?

He presses harder against Trick’s shoulder. He wants to go back to bed. He remembers being in the basement last night, but nothing happened, so the punishment must still be yet to come. And now he could swear he hears feet crushing leaves in the forest outside, like someone’s coming for him, him and his Trickshot…

Anonymous asked: Is there a separate stash of food upstairs or does somebody bring food to Dapper?

“I don’t know how Anti feeds Dapper,” admits Trick, momentarily confused. “I guess he has food up there, cause we don’t share with him far as I know.”

spicydanhowell asked: trick, something's bothering dok. a noise outside :/ (An anon sent a similar ask advising them to listen and was added).

Adrenaline floods through Trick’s blood and before the purple twins have even read your message he is scrambling to his feet, leaving Dok moaning for him to come back, grabbing after his brother. Trick ignores him and practically throws himself at the window, snatching up his gun and staring out the glass, panting -

“Trick?” calls Red, worried. “What’s - ”

“Someone outside,” gasps Trick. “Moving along the path, I can see - if they turn off the path they’ll see the house!”

Red staggers to his feet and comes to his side, startled. Neon vests can be seen in flashes through the trees lower down on the mountain, on a path that leads away from them, though not far. Red hears the barking of a dog.

“C-cops,” stammers Trick, adjusting his gun in shaking hands. “M-must have seen - have seen me - have seen m-me outside the pharmacy or the boy told them or caught my scent or - ”

“Calm down,” calls Red, grabbing his shoulder. “Calm down, let’s figure this out, we’re not caught yet.”

“Anti!” cries Trick, leaping down from the nest. “Anti!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him!” protests Marvin, alarmed. “He could punish you!”

“Not as bad as he will if I don’t tell him there’s cops coming!”

Anonymous asked: are the scars all over dok's arms and wrists from him hurting himself in his breakdowns or from anti punishing him? it seems like he's been hallucinating as well...

Doktor closes his eyes, trying to breathe through the panic around him. He holds out his arms in front of him, focusing on those old, strangely numb memories - some of them done to himself, cuts along his tummy from when he thought there was something growing beneath his skin, along his arms from where he thought infected cuts needed to be made clean… others from his master’s enemies, burying the bullet in his stomach or slashing him as he tried to run, grabbing him and shouting threats, trying to drag him away from his family or force him to tell things he did not want to tell… and then some, some of course from his master himself, because he used to be so bad, he used to be so proud, and he would spit and curse and snarl at Anti, until the blade fell and fell and fell again, and he began to cry for mercy, shattered like he never knew he could shatter, shattered into a new man entirely, a man he barely recognizes, coated in these aching scars, which always seem to bleed… used to be he only saw them open afresh in his nightmares, but these days, he sometimes sees them with his eyes wide open, staring down at wounds crying out, in silence, for stitches.

He curls in on himself, face blank.

Anonymous asked: No no no, calm down, Trick! It's okay. I'm sure they wouldn't send out dogs just to look for someone who stole meds. You didn't even cause any property damage. They probably aren't here for you, okay? It's just a coincidence. Blue or Red, you wait by the door in case they come up just to check on y'all, but right now, there's no reason to panic. They have no reason to suspect you. Keep Dok safe and calm, okay? That's more important right now.

Trick bites hard on his lip, trembling. “N-no, I - are you sure? Are you sure? I’m s-scared, I need to tell him - I’m scared they’ll shoot Doktor again, oh, oh, oh.”

spicydanhowell asked: trick, get anti right away, he'll hide you, i promise

“Yes,” pants Trick, nearly sobbing. “Yes, he always protects me when I’m in danger. Even when I’ve fucked up, no matter how bad I am, he protects me.”

“Trick,” cries Marvin, kneeling close to Doktor. “Are you sure? I - ”

“I’m the guard dog!” Trick shouts, whirling on him. “I have to tell him! He’ll keep us safe!”

The air burns with tension.

Anonymous asked: Keep your voices down just in case. As far as they know the house isn't here. If they do, they probably think it's abandoned. Don't give them a reason to investigate. Tell Anti if you have to but be ready for anything

“We need to make it look abandoned,” mumbles Red, glancing around at his families. “Get the blankets and things and hide. We’re in trouble if they even find us in this house, especially with the weapons.”

spicydanhowell asked: yes, i'm certain this is the best thing to do trick. you're not meant to keep this kind of thing from anti, but you all need to keep your voices down so nobody out there hears you :/

Marvin stares, afraid for his brothers. Red pipes up to reassure him. “Blue, he’ll protect us first and foremost. No matter how little I know, I’m sure of that.”

Fuck, he’s really trusting their safety to that monster? There should be something he can do, but he can barely remember the way his magic feels welling up in his mouth, let alone how to do anything worthwhile.

“Okay,” he croaks, gripping nervously at his hair. Trick is off like a shot, braving halfway up the stairs.

“Anti!” he cries. “Someone’s coming! Cops and dogs or hunters or something - someone’s on the path!”

Alarmed, Anti is up from his computers in a second, rushing to the top of the stairs. Trickshot’s terrified face stares up at him through the shadows, and a furious wave of protectiveness, of possessiveness, wells in Anti’s chest, hot and powerful.

“I’m sorry,” whispers Trick, tears welling in his eyes.

Anti shakes his head and beckons Trick up the stairs, darting towards Dapper’s bedroom. He lies down on the bed, just for a second, and the whole screen glitches horribly, bursting into flashes of color and static. When your vision returns, Dapper lies still on the bed and Anti stands before him, clutching a knife in his hand.

“Trick, listen to me,” he begins.

“I’m sorry,” cries Trick again, covering his mouth with his free hand.

Anti rushes forward to hold him, pulling him close and kissing the side of his head with a sudden ferocity, digging his fingers into the other side of the scalp. He draws back again and grabs Trick’s face in his hands, looking him straight in the eye. He knows what Trick is responsive to and he summons the guise now - a body looking just like Jack’s the last time Chase saw him, brown hair tumbling into his eyes and big round glasses to make his face look softer.

“Trick,” he repeats, louder. “Listen to me, little brother. I’ll go draw them away - ”

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I’ll go draw them away,” he insists, shaking Trick. “And you will stay here and watch over Carver.”

“Wh - watch over Carver? I should be downstairs with my gun, on watch - ”

“This is more important. Do you understand? I want you to sit here at Carver’s side - ” he gestures to the bed “ - and I want you to shoot anyone who comes up the stairs.”

Trick freezes, trying to get words out of his mouth.

“Anyone, Trick. Anyone. Especially Blue, no matter what he tells you. Do you understand me?”

He manages a nod, tears welling up in his eyes. Anti pushes back his hair warmly and lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” he says. “Tell Dapper the password is Caligula, but only to use it if I don’t come home in the next four hours. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Anti, Anti. I love you - I love you too.”

Anti nods and lets him go, darting down the stairs. He’ll keep them away from his pets. He’ll protect his family whatever it takes.

“Where’s that green coat?” he calls, ignoring the others and rushing towards Doktor, who responds as if on instinct, scrambling to find the coat amid the messy nest. He holds it up and Anti snatches it, heading towards the door.

“Go hide in the basement,” he orders. “Red, right hand, keep your brothers quiet and keep your brothers safe.”

“Yes, Anti.”

“What will you do?” calls Marvin, as Anti’s hand finds the doorknob.

Anti turns to him with something dark and wild in his eyes, a cold grin on his mouth.

“Something I’d never have to do if you idiots weren’t with me,” he laughs, fangs sprouting in his mouth. “Run!”

And he vanishes out the door.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, how can you be so trusting of anti when he literally BROKE you and your brothers?

Blue’s eyes well up with tears. “What do you want me to do?” he asks, distressed. “Just resign myself to the thought of him letting us be killed? How can I trust him? How can I not trust him? He’s holding our lives in his hands! I’m sorry!”

Anonymous asked: Trick, how's Dapper? Anti hasn't fed him anything or let him sleep since he started wearing him. Does he seem sick?

“H-he’s mostly unconscious right now, I think. He’ll be sick when he wakes up for sure. Anti makes everyone sick. Having him under your skin is like - argh, horrible! I guess Dapper takes it better than me - everyone takes it better than me, I’m such a coward - but yeah, he’ll be sick.”

Trick’s lying in the hallway, gun pointed and ready. There is nowhere for him to prop it up standing or sitting, so he lies on his belly, like a snake in wait. His fingers drum anxiously against the handle and he glances back at Dapper. “Should I check on him, you think? Or just keep watch?”

Anonymous asked: Blue whatever ideas you have of getting to Dapper, this isn't the time. Anti's thought ahead, and Chase's loyalty to him is deep. Worry about Doktor, he might not take going back to the basement so well. Maybe practice your magic a little. Lights or flowers or something. Nothing too crazy.

“Right, right - that’s a good idea.”

Swallowing, Blue turns around to rejoin Red, who’s doing his best to pull Doktor towards the basement without hurting him. “Here, let me get him,” insists Blue, stepping in for his brother. “Throw some of the blankets and shit downstairs and lock up the cupboards. I’ll get him down there. Come on, man, it’s okay.”

Deutsch doesn’t even seem reluctant, just resigned, tears spilling down his face the closer he’s lead to the basement. He groans a little, gritting his teeth in his mouth, and Marvin wraps a reassuring arm around him, murmuring reassurances.

As if false hope and warm skin can save him.

“Don’t,” manages Doktor, gasping, pushing suddenly back against Marvin’s arm. “Don’t - make me.”

“Doktor - ”

“Don’t make me go down there. Don’t make me go down there.”

“Doktor - ”

“Don’t make - ”

“Henrik!”

Doktor jolts like he’s been struck by lightning, a hand flashing out to grip Marvin’s shirt. No, no, no - Trick is supposed to be here to protect that name, to prevent that name, to hold that name as secret, Doktor himself is not supposed to hear it, is not supposed to remember -

But fuck, he says it like it means so much.

Doktor whimpers, letting his head fall against Marvin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” croaks Marvin, pulling him close. “I’ll keep you safe. It’s me. I swear.”

Outside, dogs around the house, not chasing dogs, but fit to catch scents. Jackie prays Anti will act fast - but in the meantime, the danger is here, and he was told to keep the other’s safe.

“We don’t have time for this,” he says, and he stalks forward, grabs Doktor by the arms, and drags him past the basement door, practically shoving him down the stairs. Doktor yelps pitifully. “Red!” cries Marvin.

Red’s face is hot with shame, but he doesn’t pause, returning to grab Marvin too, who snarls as he is dragged into the basement, pissed. His equal in fury and doubly frantic, Red just lets him go and continues walking, listening to the door slamming behind him.

“You better pray to God Anti didn’t hear you say that name,” snaps Red.

“Fuck you!” returns Blue, furious. “And fuck him too! It doesn’t belong to him! We don’t belong to him!”

Terror floods Red like lava spilling over, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s near to tears. “Don’t say that,” he wails, gripping at his hair, backing away. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know! Just - just don’t say it! You’ll get hurt!”

“You remember that much, huh? You remember next to nothing but you know that if we rebel we’ll be tortured and that’s not enough to - ”

“Shut up!” screams Red. “Shut the fuck up!”

Barking in the distance, moving away, he hopes. Panting, Marvin grabs Doktor’s shoulders and moves him towards the corner of the room, helping him sink down to the floor and wrapping protective arms around him, glaring at Red.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, would you really shoot one of your brothers if they were in your way? That sound really scary to deal with....but you should definitely check on Dap. He needs all the support he can get.

Trick pauses.

He imagines Blue walking up the stairs, timid, shy, kind, loving. Warmer than a space heater, more reassuring than the barrel of his gun, good like the first rays of sunshine.

He imagines Anti.

“Yeah,” he tells you, chill. “I would.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How's it looking out there, Anti? The boys inside are getting restless!

He hasn’t brought a camera with him, not seeing himself as answering to you. He will be gone for some time. Like the boys, you are forced to wait and see, which kind of sucks ass.

The dogs seem to have moved away, however.

Anonymous asked: definitely watch over him. he's sick and anti asked you to. anti said something interesting about dapper though. he said he's resilient. he hasn't gotten thin like the rest of you and his wounds don't scar as much. i have no idea if anti has him wash, or even feeds him at all so i'm really interested... maybe you could poke around in the room too?

Trick gets up to his feet obediently, moving to Dapper’s bedside.

“What’s this about… resilience?” he asks.

Dapper is asleep in the bed, but fitful. His face is beaded with sweat, his chin tilted strangely high to let him breathe, raspy and fast, like he’s having a nightmare. His eyes are colored purple like a watercolor painting with exhaustion for an art form.

Trick is stabbed by sympathy. He sets his gun to his side - carefully, carefully, he always keeps it close - and brushes overgrown curls out of Dapper’s eyes, laying a cool hand against his hot forehead.

“Hey, bud,” he murmurs. “You with me?”

Evidently not. Dapper’s mouth trembles and he sleeps on.

After a moment, Trick unbuttons his dress shirt, stripping the fabric off to make him more comfortable. Then he can’t resist his own curiosity, lifting up the white undershirt hidden beneath.

Dapper’s tummy is smooth and scarless, his arms the same. He is thin but not starving. The bruises on his neck from yanking against the rope have healed in a matter of days.

Trick frowns. He’s never really thought about that before, how Dapper always seems to look the same no matter what you do to him. He doesn’t know why there would be a difference in their resiliency - they’re supposed to be genetically identical, Anti says, or close enough. Trick always just put the difference down to their treatment, but he remembers well enough the days when they were both treated the same, as twins.

Trick shivers, a craving he does not recognize rising in his mouth.

He finds no food in the room. There’s a washcloth in the bathroom and some water in a pail, but the sink does not run and the bathtub barely trickles.

Anonymous asked: You don’t think anti just doesn’t feed him cause carver can just heal himself if he starves to death, do you?

Trick frowns, tilting his head. “I don’t know… I… I don’t understand his powers. That sounds… really cruel, I don’t know if Anti would…”

Trick pales and decides not to finish his train of thought, sitting down at Dapper’s side. Occasionally, he reaches out to push his hair around or stroke his cheek or shoulder, but he always draws away again, like he shouldn’t be touching him.

spicydanhowell asked: maybe he keeps dapper's things like food and water and stuff in his office so he can decide when to give it to him. poor little guy. definitely keep holding his hand and touching him though, he loves that and it'll make him feel better

“Yeah, maybe.”

Trick gets a little bolder in his contact with Dapper, rubbing the back of his neck now, in heavy, reassuring movements. Dapper has begun to make a noise almost like a hiccup or a sob, a shaky gasp with his chest heaving. Trick can almost imagine him trying to eject the metaphysical remains of possession and it almost makes him sick too. He leans in close and grips Dapper’s hands.

He almost wishes he could enjoy seeing Dapper laid low while he’s feeling fine, but he just regrets that this happens at all. Anyway, he looks so small and sick right now. It’s hard to hate someone who has the same face as you, except twice as pathetic.

“Poor lil man,” mumbles Trick. “Fuck, it’s cold up here, and quiet. I wish Dok was here. This room is lonely.”

cest-mellow asked: marvin, is everything okay downstairs?

Marvin sits in the corner with his knees drawn tight to his chest, trying to avoid the bloodstains on the floor. He’s wrapped his long brown coat around Doktor’s shoulders, his brother asleep against his side. They’re both pale with stress, but Marvin is resolute, blue magic floating slowly through his twitching fingers.

Red sits in the other corner, turned away from them, pounding his fists against the floor, bored, bored, anxious, chock-full of pent-up energy and guilt and anger. He wishes Anti had let him go in his stead.

“I think we’re okay,” murmurs Marvin.

He watches his brother warily, a certain desperation lingering in the paths of his eyes.

“I think… I’m starting to think…”

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

“M-maybe I should just take who I can… maybe I should try to escape, and come back for them… they’re so different from what I thought I remembered…”

spicydanhowell asked: that might be the best thing to do, marv. carver is so weak anti wouldn't want to make him turn back time and undo it. you could probably get dok and trick to leave with you... idk though...

Marvin nods slowly, trying to look over at Red, a low guilt curling in his tummy.

“I don’t know if I could convince any of them.” He rubs Dok’s shoulder as he groans through a nightmare. “But I don’t know when I’ll get a chance like this again.”

Anonymous asked: I can't blame you for thinking that... All or nothing is a huge risk as it is, but if only some of you get out, there might not be a second chance at getting the rest.

Marvin covers his face with his hands. “Oh, God,” he whispers. “We can’t stay here…”

Vines curl around his boots.

“But how can I leave them?”

nikkilbook asked: Red, if there was a way to stop feeling so scared, would you take it?

Red doesn’t turn his face to you.

“I know what you’re talking about,” he says.

A whisper.

“It isn’t possible. Don’t give us false hope.”

He curls slightly in on himself.

“I lied to you, you know,” he adds, softly. “I remember some things better than I said. I’ve tried to run away before. But then…”

He stares at the wall.

“It isn’t possible.”

Anonymous asked: Red, you didn't have Blue before. Maybe he's what will make all the difference now. He's magic, bro. Trust him.

Red clutches at his chest, pain welling beneath his bones like a poison.

“I can’t lose him,” he chokes out, rocking himself. “And I won’t see him in pain again! I won’t, I can’t! I have to keep them safe! To keep them safe, I have to keep them here! No, no, no, I can’t - can’t lose him…”

nikkilbook asked: But you aren’t alone this time. You have Blue, at the very least. You might even have Dok.

“Doesn’t change anything,” he cries, almost angry. “Doesn’t change anything. I could have gone. I could have! But I couldn’t give my brother up - I stayed. Power means nothing when Anti’s in your head.”

He clenches his fists, panting through his teeth.

“My power was nothing,” he groans. “My power is nothing. I am nothing - nothing, just Anti’s.”

Anonymous asked: red you need to do something about blue. he's planning to run away while anti's gone.

Red nods slowly. His face settles and sets.

He gets to his feet, glancing at the chains in the basement closet.

“Keep your brothers quiet,” he whispers to himself, closing agonized eyes. “Keep your brothers safe.”

He is a good soldier, and has been for a very long time.

florenceisfalling asked: red, what are you planning to do?

“I chained him up before… if I can just keep him a while, Anti will come home, and Blue won’t have to think anything that hurts him anymore. Just - just wash it away. I wish he would just wash it all away. He never looks at me anymore. But maybe he will if I’m good. He’d understand why I chained my twin up. He’d call me a good big brother, a good right hand. I don’t want to scare Dok, though.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, i would be on your guard when it comes to red. He might be your twin and all, but remember that he's crazy loyal to anti. I would try and take care of him first before you bolt.

Blue bites hard on his lip, staring at his brother, who seems to have gotten up to stretch. “I can’t blame him for his loyalty,” he whimpers, tears sparking in his ocean eyes. “Who knows how long he’s been abused? He doesn’t even have the fragments of good memories that I do. He deserves b-better than this.”

Anonymous asked: Red no. Anti doesn't believe in Risk vs Reward. There's only Risk and earning a punishment, but there's never any reward, only AVOIDING punishment.

“There were rewards when I was younger,” mumbles Red. “Back when he loved me.”

Anonymous asked: Wait, when the hell did you chain him up, Red?? Was it when Anti reset him? Anti couldn't be bothered to do his own dirty work?

“The - the first day we brought him home. Didn’t I? I don’t remember… I was the one chained up for the reset… I remember screaming. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but I knew what he was about to do to me. My little brother…”

florenceisfalling asked: be careful though- blue is powerful. he might retaliate, even though he doesn't want to hurt you, red.

A small, painful smile flickers over his mouth, his eyes curving with emotion - pride, you recognize, pride and warmth and sorrow.

“I’d expect nothing less from my Blue.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, I've been telling you since day 1 to hold back, not yet, be patient, comply, don't try anything, but you know what? Go off. I don't think this is an ideal opportunity, but it's opportunity nonetheless and it might be all you have.

Marvin lets out a deep, shaky breath, laughing a little. Carefully, he shrugs Doktor off his chest, trying to look casual as he lays him back against the wall. He’ll give him a minute more to sleep.

It’s time to go.

He’s bringing whoever he can with him.

spicydanhowell asked: red, he was considering leaving without you. you would have been tortured for that! you've got the right idea...

Red chokes, his eyes flickering wildly up to Marvin.

“Oh, without me,” he whimpers. “W-well, who can blame him? He won’t stay for me. Why would he stay for me? He’d leave me alone again…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, I think you either need to keep your distance from Red or try to get him on your side. You need each other.

“R-right,” stammers Marvin, looking up at his twin, who is standing a little strangely, shifting on his feet, his back still turned. “Right… I… I should try and get him to come with me, shouldn’t I?”

loganandoli asked: Marvin!! Reds about to chain you up!! You have to convince him that you’re not leaving or you’ll be stuck!! (Cest-mellow also warned Marvin and was added).

“What?”

Marvin pushes back against the wall, trembling, dragging himself to his feet. Knife wounds sting beneath his clothes. He stares at Red, afraid.

Red stares back, exhausted.

The chains are in the closet beside him.

“We really going to do this, heartbeat?” Marvin whispers. He tries to sound brave, but it only comes off as fragile. Stepping in front of Doktor, he prays their little brother will stay asleep. He’s so shaken up already. They can’t stay here. He can’t stay here. None of them can stay here.

“How can you not see how terrible this place is?” cries Marvin, when no answer comes from his brother. “How, how, how can you stay, and force me to stay too?”

Red is staring at the floor. His hands curl and uncurl. Grief and hurt and rage and sorrow war in his face.

“Just stay,” Red says. “And we don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t,” answers Marvin, breathing in deep. “And Jackie, Jackie, Jackie - if you don’t get out of my way, I will push you aside.”

His hands crackle like torches, simmering with blue fire. Red smiles grimly. It never reaches his eyes.

Trick is a guard, Doktor meant for support; Jameson is the fang-toothed puppy.

And Red?

Red is the attack dog.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe try and take red with you first. If he goes first, the others might feel more secure and trust you with getting them out of here.

“Red,” begs Marvin, panting. “Think about what you’re doing.”

He’s trying to look intimidating. He can still talk him down from this, can’t he?

“If you would come with me, we could convince the others to go too, couldn’t we? What would Anti be able to do if we had all turned against him? We can still save ourselves, Jackie!”

“Don’t call me that,” screams Red. “You’re my twin, you’re supposed to shield me from that name!”

“I can’t lie to you anymore! This is not who you are and it never has been! I remember now! I let you find me, praying you would come alone! I thought that I could snap you out of it, if you just listened to me, even for a moment, my brother, my friend, who loved me from the day I was born. I knew that together, you and I could defeat Anti! I know we can still all be saved like that!”

Red grabs a chain from the basement door, heavy in his hands.

“Okay,” pants Marvin, circling. “Not feeling keen on the PMA. Okay, okay, take it easy.”

nikkilbook asked: Marvin, tell him a story. Something small. No matter what happens or who does what, you can at least give him back one of his good memories.

“I - I don’t remember any stories! What can I tell him about? Help me remember something!”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: How about when you were first born and you didnt have a name it was only you Jack and Jackie, you were like jackie then he wasnt alone and you two took on the world together

Marvin laughs and sobs at the same time. “That sounds wonderful! Can you imagine, just the two of us? Jackie, do you remember - when it was you and me and - and - someone else, I can’t remember, someone who loved us - you slept right across the hall from me and we would stay up so late every night, all three of us were noctural, ha. We’d be running around in the city, just the two of us, you were never far from my side - ”

“Why can’t we be like that and be Anti’s too?” cries Red. “You’re trying to run away from me!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Come up with something! There has to be some cliché that connects to you guys. Do you remember anything stupid you did together? Or remind Red of how you had his back, even after the reset!

“We always looked after each other, whenever anything came to hurt us we defended each other! That’s how we came out of the first time Anti attacked, side-by-side, back-to-back, together - ”

“We were wrong!” screams Red.

Doktor is awake by now, scrambling into the corner, terrified. He doesn’t know what to do.

“We were wrong to live like that! Wrong to fight him! It would have hurt less to surrender then!”

“Surrender then,” snarls Marvin. “Give up everything that we are, instead of letting him take it from us? You were never a coward, Jackie. Remember yourself!”

Anonymous asked: doktor, wake up and help will you?

Doktor throws his hands up, stressed out of his mind. “What do you want me to fucking do? I want Trick, I want Trick, where is he, why did Anti take him away from me?”

florenceisfalling asked: talk about trick's kid, hunter! surely you all have shared memories with him. does that help you remember? talk about your powers, the plants you can grow. what kind did you used to grow, where did you keep them? talk about watching movies together and sharing dinner and going on trips. think!

“Do you remember swinging our nephew back and forth between the two of us, laughing like nothing would ever hurt us?”

“Be quiet!”

“Do you remember blue magic and magnolias sprouting up through the ground because we finally had a third brother?”

The chain swings, swings, hard, and Marvin throws himself back against the wall to avoid the blow. Red’s face is setting, cold with the rhythm of a good fight, blocking everything else out.

“I love you so much, please - ”

Red darts forward like a mongoose, grabbing Marvin and flipping him over his waist. Marvin hits the ground hard but takes the blow resiliently, well used to his brother’s strength. Strange, the memory waking up in him - We have fought a thousand times, my brother, but I thought that was play, not practice.

Red strikes at his face and Marvin throws himself aside, only to be grabbed by the hair and dragged up to his knees. Crying out, he scrambles at his short hair and stares up at his brother, finding tears in his eyes.

“Stop talking, please,” begs Red. “You won’t convince me - I made peace with my own darkness a long time ago. I’m not a good person, Blue.”

“You could be,” answers Marvin.

“You don’t know what I’ve done. I wish Anti had left my brain so blank I forgot the sight of my own face.” He grabs Marvin’s wrist and holds up the chain.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, Marvin is going to take care of you and trick, but he needs your help right now. You have to help him calm Red down.

“Red, Red!” cries Doktor, reaching out for him. “What’s happening, please stop!”

Red looks up, alarmed by the sound of his distress, and Marvin takes the opportunity to attack, grabbing Red’s wrist. Red screams as heat races through his hand and arm and he drops Marvin, staggering away, clutching at his burned hand.

“Stop, stop!” cries Doktor, curling in on himself. “Stop, don’t hurt each other!”

florenceisfalling asked: red, listen to him. please listen to him, don't try to fight.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” screams Red, beginning to hyperventilate.

nikkilbook asked: Come on, Astrifer. Find yourself

“I’m so tired!” screams Red. “I don’t know who I am, but I don’t want to be him anymore! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! Anti, please come back! I’m afraid, master, I’m afraid!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, you need to calm him down. Calm Red down or y'all are going to get hurt!

Doktor staggers to his feet and reaches out to grab Red, pulling him protectively away from Blue.

“Henrik, keep away from him,” pants Marvin.

His eyes have begun to glow through the shadows of the basement.

“Go get Trick and tell him we are leaving. Let me handle him.”

Doktor clutches tighter to Red, backing, backing away.

spicydanhowell asked: red, chain him up, shut him up, and then you can rest. it's going to be okay. just do as you're told and you'll be safe

“Yes, I have to stop him, I have to stop him, I have to keep him safe - ”

He drops his hands from his hair and shoves Doktor towards the stairs. “Go wait upstairs,” he commands. “Now, little one.”

Doktor knows where he lies in the hierarchy and he is obedient. He turns to run up the stairs - but can’t help but pause halfway up, panting, praying they won’t hurt each other.

“Marvin, stand down,” orders Red, straightening up.

“Fuck you!” shouts Marvin. “Fuck you, Anti!”

Anonymous asked: Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh no... ok, think carefully, Marvin! How can you convince Jackie? He's first and foremost the protector of his brothers right now, right? Including Anti. Maybe you can swing it like if you all leave, Anti is safer because he doesn't have to watch out for you all? It might be better to get Jackie away while still loyal to Anti so you can work on helping him back to himself safely. And if you have to run, run, ok? You only have so much time while Anti is distracted.

“Jackie, listen to them, listen to - ”

“I can’t! You know that!”

“Just for one fucking second, Jackie, listen to me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Marvin screams rage, striking his hand against the wall and leaving a black mark upon its surface.

florenceisfalling asked: trick, you might have to come downstairs and lend a hand. things aren't going well between the boys.

“Wh-what?” he stammers.

You find him and Dapper awake, sitting at the side of the bed, curled up between blankets together. They look like they were having a good time, even though Dapper is pale and wan.

“What’s going on? I can’t leave puppy’s side. Is… is Doktor okay?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, come on. Work through this TOGETHER. You're BROTHERS.

“That is not my brother!” howls Marvin. “That is just the shell that Anti left behind! You killed my Jackie! You killed him! You killed my best friend!”

Blue light explodes through the dungeon like a flash of lightning. Red falls back, shocked by the onslaught of light and color, overwhelming.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Screw it. Do what you need to, blue dude.

Marvin surges forward like a thunderstorm. He is faster than Jackie, slighter and more coordinated; he grabs his injured wrist out of the air and squeezes, eyes burning. Red yelps and drives his knee up into Marvin’s stomach, sending him reeling back.

“I’m more powerful than you are,” hisses Blue, fire burning along his fingers, roses snarling their way out of the concrete floor of the basement. “You really want to keep dancing, love?”

“I’m not afraid of you or death,” replies Red coldly, picking up his chain.

Anonymous asked: Dok, maybe see if you can get all the way upstairs, with Trick and Dapper? The basement seems very ugly, you might want to get further away.

“Wh-why won’t they stop?” moans Doktor, covering his face with his hands. “M-make them stop.”

Anonymous asked: Didn't doktor go back up the stairs? So yeah I'd say he's relatively okay

Trick gets up from the blankets, leaving Dapper with a pat on the head, and makes his way to the top of the stairs, clutching his gun tight.

“Deutsch?” he calls, scared. “It’s Trick, I’m right here. Everything okay?”

“Trick,” returns the familiar voice, and Trick’s blood lights up with adrenaline at the fear there. “Trick, Trick. I want this to stop.” He pulls himself to his feet and drags himself to the stairs.

Anonymous asked: No Henrik/Dok don’t go upstairs!!! Please don’t go up there, Trick will shoot anyone who goes up the stairs!! (An anon and nikkilbook sent similar warnings and were added)

Whimpering, Doktor falls back down at the bottom of the stairs, his grief tangible from fourteen steps away. “I can’t even go to my twin? I want to go lie down in the nest and be safe.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, take Dapper downstairs, you won't be leaving him, but the others need you.

“Wh-what? Anti told me to stay up here! I’m supposed to be protecting him!”

Frantic, he glances back towards the room, where Dapper’s head is poking out of the door, his eyes wide and curious.

Anonymous asked: HELL YEAH, KICK HIS ASS, MARV!

Blood-strike, fury-smell like electricity in the air. Marvin lashes out like a panther, a clawed hand reaching for Red’s face, remembering the taste of his own power.

Red kicks at his knee, sending him to the ground, and grabs him by the throat. Marvin shrieks loud enough to disorient Red, beginning to feel nauseous from the thousand sensations and emotions bearing down on him. He drops Marvin and his brother is up again, leaving a blow in his stomach, sending him reeling back, gagging -

He thinks he hears something like static, but Anti is not close enough to stop this.

Anonymous asked: Jesus christ, Anti only leave for a bit and everything goes to shit

Dapper crawls up into his bed, afraid, and closes his eyes, praying to his brother for him to come back soon.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, Dok is trying to come upstairs. DO NOT SHOOT.

“No, no, don’t,” Trick begs, his hands shaking around the gun. “Don’t, Dok, Anti told me to shoot and I - I will. I don’t know if you’re you. Just stay down there, bro. It’s going to be okay.”

Anonymous asked: The three little ones, calm down. It's okay. Blue is having a little trouble settling in, so he's a bit angry right now. Red is handling it. Trick, can you bring Dapper to the top of the stairs, and Doktor, you can sit at the bottom, maybe bring some blankets from the nest? Then everyone is following orders, everyone is safe, and everyone is together. Anti will come when he can to fix it, and you three won't be in trouble.

“There’s some sense,” breathes Trick, setting down his gun. “Dok, I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the room and approaches Dapper, who watches him trustingly - this isn’t the first time he’s been handed over to an older brother’s care, and he’s used to being casually ordered around, so he doesn’t even flinch when Trick scoops him up, blankets and all, laughing a little, and carries him over to the top of the stairs. Trick sits with his feet on the last stair and Dapper mimics him, sitting against his shoulder, rubbing his face, starting to feel better.

“There we go.” Trick smiles and sighs out a shaky breath. “We’re all okay, right? We’re all okay. Red is handling it. No worries. I got my brothers. We’re all okay.”

Anonymous asked: marvin!!!! blue!! no! anti hurts his brothers. you are not like anti!! stop hurting jackie!

“Maybe I am! He washed me away, remember? I don’t even know who Marvin is! And I certainly don’t know who you are, Red!”

Red pants hard, staggering away from him, but Marvin keeps coming.

spicydanhowell asked: trick, don't move, doktor, lie down and close your eyes. just breathe, red... stay with us ok? you're gonna be ok. you're the big brother.

“I’m not the big brother,” he groans. “I haven’t been in a long time. Just the commander. Just Anti’s alpha dog. I’m just fooling myself. I want this to stop - stop - stop.” He grips at his hair, moaning.

nikkilbook asked: Red. The other day, when you were so overwhelmed. Blue knew what to do. Even when you were young, did Anti ever do that for you? Or did he just leave you to figure it out yourself?

“It’s not Anti’s fault he can’t help me when I get like this,” chokes Red, slamming against the wall. “Not his fault I can’t t-take this much sensation - not his fault the boy made him like he was a monster, with the shrieking and the glitching, the color and the pain - I want him to come home, please!”

Anonymous asked: STOP!! You're just going to hurt each other, and if you keep going Anti is just gonna punish everyone!

“Let’s be honest!” shouts Marvin. “We’re already fucked anyway!”

He swings a hand into the air and the rosebushes explode like a wall of thorns, crawling up Red’s legs. He screams as they bite into his calves, and a low sob chokes its way from Marvin’s throat, backing away from the sight of his own power.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he gasps. “It has to be like this.”

musical-in-theory asked: Red you are a fantastic person making the best out of a really shitty situation. You don’t have to do this. For once you have control over what you do right here, right now. What’ll you choose, hero?

“No, no,” sobs Red, thorns growing up his body. “Look what I’ve become. Does this look like a hero to you? I can’t even save my own twin from himself.”

Marvin is backing away, distressed. He waves his hand again, trying to get the roses to stop rising, but they don’t answer him.

Anonymous asked: red. listen to blue. if you don't, anti will torture him for hurting you. he'll torture you for not succeeding. and he'll continue to torture all of you, over little things and big things, for the rest of your lives. this is your chance to protect your brothers.

“He’ll torture me if I stay, torture me if I go.”

“No,” cries Marv, waving his hand again, increasingly frantic. “That’s not true. We can keep each other safe!”

spicydanhowell asked: he's injured, red. he can't fight you. get him under control or anti is going to hurt you much worse than blue ever could... i don't want that to happen to you red... just keep him quiet and keep him safe until anti comes back.

“Please,” whispers Red. He tears with shaking hands at the rose thorns on his chest, struggling to breathe. “Please. Let’s do that. Blue, Blue. Marvin. Just st-stay with me. Please. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, fuck,” pants Marvin, reaching forward to tear at the thorns. Blood blooms on his hands, and the roses keep coming. “Don’t say that, don’t…”

nikkilbook asked: But is here really safe? How is this better than out there? How is sleeping above a dungeon and below a torturer safe? How is starving yourself to keep them fed safe? If the only way you can keep them protected is to beat them to keep them in line, how on earth is that better than even the slightest chance at escape?

Red bursts into sobs, collapsing. Marvin cries out as he falls into the thick carpet of thorns, reaching out to grab him, tearing his own arms up.

“I hate living like this,” admits Red, clutching at his brother’s hands.

“I know,” chokes Marvin. “I know you do. Oh, fuck, my poor big brother.”

“I can’t breathe!”

“Calm down, calm down! It’s okay, Jackie, it’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Marvin has never once told you that you have to earn his love or trust. He's giving it to you because he cares about you and will never stop caring about you. Anti is the only one with limits because he doesn't care about you. He can't. Go with Marvin. Marvin will help you no matter what! You have to let him

“Yes, yes,” Marvin pants, pulling Red up from the thorns. “I - I shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re going to leave me alone.”

Marvin closes his eyes tight.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Unless you come with me.”

loganandoli asked: Red. No, Jackie. Do you remember the first time you ever saved someone? Be it a bank robbery, a mugging, anything. Do you remember their wide eyes and smiles when they realized a hero has come to rescue them? Do you remember the feeling of joy and pride to know that you saved so many people? That you left a permanent mark of safety on your home? If you can remember any of that, realize that Anti is making you do the exact opposite of what you have been working on doing for so long.

“I remember my brothers, sitting against my chest, around my feet, under my arm, trusting me to protect them… now look what’s become of them…”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Go ahead marvin get angry use the power you were given

“I shouldn’t have done this,” Marvin sobs. “You called me kind, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

nikkilbook asked: Who cares what a hero looks like. You’re Jackie. That’s all that matters.

Marvin yanks him out of the thorns, and the roses choke and die, having served their purpose to him. They collapse together at the foot of the stairs, panting hard, clutching each other’s arms.

Clutching each other tight.

Marvin’s heart is shaking like it will shatter. Red cries, ashamed but too tired to care.

“Please,” he begs. “Let me save you.”

“You’ve forgotten what salvation is,” whispers Marvin.

He moves forward and knocks their heads gently together. They breathe in sync, clutching at each other’s sleeves.

“I love you,” Marvin mumbles, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. But we don’t have time for this, my friend. I’m going, now. Are you coming with me, or will you stay?”

“It doesn’t matter,” murmurs Red, lying against the floor, exhausted. “We can’t get away.”

“I can’t try to convince you any longer. Choose.”

Red stares up at him. Stares at you. Stares at his own scarred, burnt, wretched wrists.

“You’re the one with a choice to make,” whispers Jackie, drawing back. “I can’t get up, I need time to rest, and I know that even if I want to go with you now, Anti will make me Red again when he catches us. And he will, Marvin. He will catch us. So choose, Blue - Stay with me and we can look after each other, even in a place like this. Or go. I won’t fight you.”

Marvin stares at him. Red stares back.

“But we will never see each other again,” he finishes softly.

He closes his eyes. Leaves the choice in his brother’s hands.

Marvin is gone the next time he opens his eyes.

Jackie McLoughlin smiles, laughs, and swallows hard, letting his head fall against the bloodied floor, tears dripping steady from his starry eyes. He waits patiently to be Red again. He’s never a hero for long.

Anonymous asked: Oh, Jackie. :'( You're breaking my heart, man. But I know what an impossible situation you're in. I know you're doing what you can in the aftermath of everything Anti's put you through. I recognize all your bravery and strength. I recognize all your gentleness and love. And know that even now, and even if Anti makes you Red again, and no matter what, you are wholeheartedly and entirely a hero to your brothers and to all of us. This is not how you will end.

Jackie stares up at you, a smile flickering across his lips, and then grief again, and then joy, and then…

Tired, tired, tired.

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart,” he tells you, low and earnest. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m very… tired of… of being alone.”

Blood runs sluggishly from his wrist and his legs. He shakes, pants, cries soft and quiet.

musical-in-theory asked: Jackie we will never give up on you. Is there anything you want to tell us or even Red while you’re still you?

“Oh, what a thought,” he murmurs. “A good idea. But my head is full of cotton just now. If you would please just… just try to keep him company.”

Jackie lays his head down on the ground. “Doesn’t matter who a person is all alone, you know… we are the people we love, and the people who love us.”

His voice trembles.

“And I am no one at all.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Be strong, Red....you will get through this.

“Forgive me,” he says.

So quiet you can barely hear him.

Something drips slowly nearby. His limbs have gone very still. His mouth is dry and empty.

“I think I’m going to sleep now,” he mumbles, closing his tired eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep. Thank you… forgive me.”

cest-mellow asked: marvin can’t you carry him? don’t you have a spell that can make jackie easy to take with you?? don’t leave him there!!

“Please, don’t say that! He made his choice, I - please, if you beg me, I would stay with him, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Even if I love him! Even if I can’t bear to leave him alone! Oh, please, don’t tell me the truth. He made his choice and even if I could carry him, his heart would not come with me.”

Marvin is crying, but it does not matter. He tears up the stairs, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Now I can only hope to get myself and my little ones free, whichever of them we can convince to come with us.”

The screen glitches softly at the corners, a harsh buzz rising in your ears.

“Anti is coming,” whispers Marvin, taking a deep breath. “We go now, and pray to God that we can get away. I don’t care about the chances anymore. I’m not going to give in. We’re going. We’re going. We’re running, right now. And I am getting my brothers away.”

The buzzing reaches a horrible shriek and your whole screen bursts into glitching. Across the screen, those all-too-familiar green words are flickering.

“Ĭ̢̜͝ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟v̨̖̪͔̋̌̋̈́e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ṙ̻ l͈̯̾̀e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟t͙́ t͙́h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉t͙́ h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉p̠͖̠̈́͋p̠͖̠̈́͋e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟n͕̰̳̏͝͡.”

 End Section Five of Chapter One.

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

[feferipeixes]

Jay’s Brother (1/?)

Jay has been working in the cobalt mines her entire life. Against all odds, she's still alive when so many others have fallen. It's been decades since she's had anyone she could call family. And then, out of nowhere, a demon shows up and says he's her brother.

Naturally, she's upset.

More adventures of Jay Rhysti-Du, the lonely space Mizar! A followup to Like Dust. You should probably read that one first.

Thanks to @toothpastecanyon for beta reading and being the best!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

Chapter 1: A Weird Dream

Clouds were soft, the girl realized. They were soft, and she had no idea why it had taken her this long to try resting on one.

She leaned back and sunk slightly into the plush surface. Not too far that she was worried about falling through, but enough that her neck and back felt supported. It almost felt like a hug. What she wouldn’t do for a real one right now, though.

The sky was beautiful tonight. It was full of twinkling lights, reaching out to her from afar, illuminating brilliant clouds of dust and getting sucked into black holes. She wanted to be out there, dancing with her siblings, letting go for once in her life.

But for now, she thought, the cloud was good enough.

The girl closed one eye and raised her arm above her head. There was a star smack dab in the middle of her vision, and she pinched it with her thumb and index fingers. She mimed dragging it across the sky in an arc, wrenching it out of its home and taking it on a journey. The dust in the air sparkled as she did so, and she smiled.

It was a funny thought -- the idea that you could take something as brilliant and powerful as a star and play with it like it was a toy. Stars weren’t toys. They were friends, and she was so, so lonely.

She closed her eyes, just for a moment, but when she reopened them, there was a massive comet between her and the star. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. It just hung there, frozen in space. Motionless. Breathless.

The girl reached up again and wrapped her fingers around the comet. From her perspective, it seemed like it was in her reach, even though she knew it was millions of miles away. So far away that she’d never be able to tighten her grip, jerk her hand back, and bring it to rest with her on the cloud.

Except, that’s exactly what happened.

“Hi sweetheart,” the comet whispered.

The girl flushed bright red. “Hi there, m’lady.”

The comet giggled. “Miss me?”

“So much,” the girl breathed. “Every day.”

“I’m sorry.” Her smile held for a moment, and then turned into something darker. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know. Me too.”

They fell silent. The comet leaned back into the cloud just as the girl had, and looked up at her celestial home. For a few minutes, there was no need for words. The air glittered, the stars danced, and the girl… wasn’t lonely. She reached over and slipped her hand into the comet’s.

They smiled together. The girl puckered her lips, leaned over, and...

A voice reached into her ear, so tiny and distant that she wasn’t even sure it was real. “Mizar?”

The girl sat up. “Did you hear that?”

The comet cocked her head, letting her hair cascade over one shoulder. “Hear what?”

“I could’ve sworn I heard something.” The girl looked both ways, but nothing seemed to reveal itself. “Must’ve been my imagination.”

“That does sound like you,” the comet said, smirking.

The sky started to change colors, moving from a dark, deep blue to an orange. The girl frowned. “How do you mean?”

“You just have had the wildest imagination.” The comet leaned forward on her palm. “That’s always been so inspiring to me.”

“Heh. I guess. I guess I just -”

This time, it was a shout. “Mizar!”

“There it was again!” she yelped. She jerked her head upward, and gasped. The sky had lost its peaceful visage and seemed to be boiling over -- yellows and oranges and reds cavorting and bubbling wildly. “You see that, right? Do you see that?”

The comet smiled weakly. “Yeah. I do. It’ll be okay.”

“It’ll be okay? What does that -”

There was a sound like a whip cracking across the sky. Something bright appeared overhead, bright and yet so overwhelmingly dark. Something great and terrible, unfamiliar and unwelcome, and it was screaming through the heavens, igniting the dust as it flew. “Mizar! There you are! Mizar!”

The comet said nothing, and moved in close to hug her. The girl, frozen in shock, didn’t think to return the favor. All she could see was the furious ball of something hurtling violently toward her.

“‘Til we meet again,” the comet whispered in her ear. “‘Til then, you’re going to have to wake up.”

The cloud beneath them began to shake. It was like the entire world was being torn apart. And all the while, the thing kept screaming, screaming so loud that the sound was rattling the girl’s very essence.

“MIZARMIZARMIZARMI-”

---

Jay woke with a start.

She instinctively tried to sit up, but there was a jolt of pain in her side, and she fell limp onto her pillow. She stared into the inky darkness of the room, trying to get her bearings without moving. She was awake now. She knew she was awake, lying in bed, safe and sound, and everything was fine -

A fit of coughing wracked her body. Her hand flew to her chest and started scrunching up her shirt in panic. She tried as hard as she could to just take a deep breath in… and out… in… and out... Her body hurt -- all of everything hurt. But this had worked for her yesterday, and the day before that, so she’d just have to power through. That was what she was best at, after all.

Her breathing gradually slowed, and her heart rate returned to normal. The pain in her chest started to subside. One last choking cough, and she lay limp on the bed again.

Everything was fine, for some definition of fine. She was still alive, after all.

She wiped away the spittle that had accumulated on her face, and sighed. What was up with that dream? It had been a while since she’d had a pleasant dream -- these days, her dreams couldn’t seem to stop fixating on all of the ways she could accidentally get hurt at work. But that dream had been different. It was peaceful. It was relaxing in a way that she hadn’t experienced in quite a long time. And she’d been talking to someone, someone she cared about…

An uncomfortable tickle rippled through her skin, and she looked down to the foot of the bed. She couldn’t see anything but she could swear someone was there watching her.

Her eyes grew wide. Her arm lashed out to her side and flicked on the lightswitch. The sudden brightness seared her vision and for a minute she could only squint. When her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she gazed back down to the end of her bed. The room was a blurry mess, but as far as she could tell, there was no one there.

She sighed again. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Again. Akko had always told her that she had the wildest imagination.

Jay’s heart twinged, but this pain wasn’t physical.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly lifted herself into a sitting position. She fumbled around on her bedside table for her glasses and put them on. The room was the same as it always was. Small. Cold. Lonely.

She glanced at the clock. It was 9th trentile on the dot, which meant she still had a whole trentile before she had to get up. But she could tell from the way her skin was crawling and her mind was racing that she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Which was fine. She wanted to get some writing in today anyway.

The room was filled with a symphony of creaking and popping joints as she picked herself up and made her way over to the desk on the other side of the room. Out of bed, she felt less exhausted, less encumbered by her body. The tightness in her chest eased up a little more, and the ache in her muscles slowly worked itself out. Everything was fine. She was alive.

When she got to the desk, she said in a sing-song voice, “Hey, computer, wake up!”

The screen lit up, revealing a text document that was just as barren as the last time she’d seen it. Her eyes scanned over the few lines she’d gotten down so far:

Harsh cold nights in the recesses of space Plucked right out, leaving me without a trace Death defied, now she’s on her way back home

Jay frowned. She’d gotten stuck on that line the day before, not because of the rhyme scheme -- she knew the line would end with the word “alone” -- but because she didn’t quite know what she wanted to say.

She briefly closed her eyes and thrummed her fingers against her nose. Behind her eyelids, the image of the distant star from her dream reappeared. She thought about closing her fingers safely around it, and then she knew how she wanted to end the stanza.

“One last hope that I won’t be so alone,” she said aloud, and the computer wrote it down.

---

“Rhysti-Du!” came a barking voice when Jay walked into the mine that morning.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Jay, sir.”

Her shift manager, Kanif, narrowed his three pairs of eyes and peered up at her, just like he did every day. “You’ll get a first name when you deserve it! What are you doing coming in so late?”

She glanced up at the clock projected on the wall. “Are you kidding me? It’s two minutes past 11th trentile. I’ve been working here my whole life and you still can’t look past two minutes?”

“That is correct!” Kanif fumed. “You, along with everyone else here, are expected to be through this door and scanned into the system by exactly 11th trentile! I’m sick of having to give you this speech!”

She gritted her teeth. “Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t! You’ve been skating on thin ice, Rhysti-Du. And let me tell you,” he added, reaching up to grab her chin and direct her gaze down at him. “I don’t care how many decades you’ve worked here. You’re not ‘special’ just because you’re older than the other workers. If another ion compressor detonates under your watch, you are history! Is that clear?”

She swatted his hand away. “Clear as cobalt, sir.”

She walked past him and up to the timekeeping system’s biometric scanner. She reached her hand in, and it made a harsh dinging noise, indicating that she was late. There was a whir, and her mining equipment was deposited from a chute onto a hoverdolly beside the scanner. She grabbed it by the handles and started to walk away with it.

“One more thing, Rhysti-Du,” Kanif called out.

Jay stopped, but didn’t turn to face him. “Yes?”

Even without seeing him, Jay could sense the smarmy grin on his face. “Since you were late, I’ll have to dock your pay for the whole trentile.”

Images of her monthly bills flashed before her eyes, decorated by the cruel glee underlying her manager’s voice. Something snapped within her, and she turned on him with fists clenched. Just like every day, she entertained the thought of pummeling the lights out of him. But then she saw the clock projection floating above his head, flickering 11:05 back at her, and she remembered how poorly that would work out for her.

She instead ground her teeth together, and forced herself not to scream when she spoke. “Well, then, I guess I might as well leave and come back in 45 minutes, seeing as I won’t be getting paid until then anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes again. “Good one. Get back to work.”

Jay opened her mouth, and then shut it before she said something she’d regret. She turned back to her hoverdolly and set off to her work area. She felt Kanif’s eyes on her as she heaved the dolly out of the room, and she knew how much enjoyment he must’ve been getting out of bossing her around.

As she passed through the doorway, she felt that prickling feeling on her skin again, like there was something else watching her too. But she didn’t want to give Kanif the satisfaction of seeing her turn around, so she ignored it and pressed on.

---

It was late when Jay finally powered off her quantum axe and laid it on the hoverdolly. She knew she couldn’t afford to have her pay docked, so she worked an extra trentile to make up for it. Combined with the trentile of sleep she’d missed, she was feeling extremely worn down at the end of the day.

Her body cried out to her with exhaustion as she pushed forward with her hoverdolly and began the winding trip from her work area to the mine’s entrance. The mine was mostly empty at that point, with only a few other workers left behind who must have also been unlucky enough to miss the start of the day by a minute or two. She waved at them weakly as she went, but didn’t bother exchanging words. She knew neither she nor they had the energy for that.

When she arrived at the entrance to the mine, she expected to see Kanif still standing there with the same callous grin on his face. To her surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. He usually loved to rub her exhaustion in her face, even if it meant staying late. But it seemed that even he had better things to do that night.

The world was dark when she deposited her equipment and stepped outside. It was a little after 22nd trentile, and the nearest star, Prima, had probably just dipped below the horizon. After the day she’d had, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She always loved watching the star set -- loved watching the sky flush with pinks and oranges and yellows and reds.

She also loved watching it with someone. A friend, a family member, a lover… She hadn’t had any of those in quite a while.

She swallowed, and she started on her walk home. She made a quick stop at the diner at the end of the block to pick up some dinner so she wouldn’t starve, just like every day. Then she headed out of the town proper, and into the residential district. There were fewer and fewer people on the street with every turn she made. Soon, she was alone, and instead of dodging passersby, she found herself gazing up into the starry sky as she walked.

It was beautiful, as always. And as she padded down the street, exhaustion weighing down her mind, she wondered what would happen if she reached up into the sky and...

There was an odd noise, like what she imagined “twinkling stars” sounded like. Then, rustling, from not far ahead of her. Jay blinked, and took her eyes off the sky to find that she was in a dark alley.

Great.

Maybe she’d made a mistake taking this route home, but it was by far the fastest way, and it wasn’t usually this dark when she went home after work. If she ended up getting mugged because of Kanif playing games with her, she might not be able to restrain herself from hurting him the next time she saw him.

“Anyone there?” she yelled into the dark. “Show yourself!”

There was a pause, and Jay wondered whether she’d maybe imagined the noise and the rustling. It wouldn’t have been the first time that day her imagination had been working in overtime. She was just about to let out a sigh of relief… and then the darkness started to chuckle.

“Oh, that’s right,” the voice replied. It had a weird echo to it that would’ve been intimidating if it didn’t sound so… giddy. “You can’t see me. I’ll fix that.”

Jay set her jaw. Right. That was enough. “You think I’m gonna be an easy target just because I’m old?” she shouted. “Get out of here, I don’t have anything you want.”

There was that chuckle again, and from the darkness stepped a man. She couldn’t make out any of his features in the low lighting, but she could see he was wearing a ridiculously old fashioned suit and a matching top hat.

“Don’t be silly,” he responded, and Jay felt a shiver rush through her body. “It’s you I’ve been looking for, Mizar.”

(AO3 link)

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Serious Events

A series of events…

Aeritria and Arakiel meet accidentally inside Samael house.

Aeritria Locklair stopped dead in her tracks when Ara turned around. The blood drained from what little he could see of her face, and her eyes narrowed moving over him to look for weapons, surprises, explosives, all the things he might have on him while in Soren's house. It took her a couple ticks to reconcile the sight of him in Soren's house. Alive. Not dead. Not even thinking of the advantage that came from him not knowing who she was, she finally spoke, "Well bloody damn hell... you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."

 Arakiel agrees to travel with Aeritria east, having decided that Ikara had been gone for too long and he was going to look for his daughter. They discover that they still have some disagreements though.

Arakiel Etemorah smirked. "Wrath?" He chuckled smarmily. "Kinda daft name to call a kid. He pick that out himself?" Still, he didn't seem intent on keeping up his teasing. "And what do they all mean to ya? What would you do if they were in danger?"

Aeritria Locklair rolled her eyes, "Its short, for Rathorin... " When he questioned her on what they meant to her and what she would do there was clearly a reaction. She tried to keep the calm, snarky demeanor, but too many things had already happened where she had given a whole lot for those three. There was the briefest of haunted looks before it was replaced with tense shoulders and a defensive posture. "Enough..."  Her lips pulled into a thin line, "Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Arakiel Etemorah smiled knowingly and shook his head. "No, but that's answer enough." Sheathing his katana, he stood. "I have a daughter. She should have returned by now, but she hasn't. That's what's in the Burn." His expression turned somewhat grim. "I wanted you to know before you decided to follow me. I'm willing to do -enough- for her.”

 Aeritria agrees to accompany Arakiel in his search for Ikara and together, they make for The Burn. Arakiels insistence on drawing out Aeritrias ire though, nearly sets them at odds.

Aeritria Thorne had never been good at reining in her temper, it was why she made such a good marauder. It was also why she had made such a good criminal. There was a sudden shift from her that would hit every one of his senses. The growled words came out with cold fury, "Fuck you Arakiel. I came out to help you, but that was just another dumbass mistake on my part. Everything is fucking fine. Its more godsdamn fine than it has been in over a twelves damned year, but you just can't leave well the fuck enough alone. I don't want to fucking talk about it cause its none of your gods damned business. You don't get to fucking come back from the dead and act like I should just fucking ugh!" Axe or no axe, there was a hint of red glowing in the abysmal darkness of her eyes before she turned around and started storming away. "Fuck you!"

It would be some time after that they managed to work out their difference, but once they had they concluded, wandering the desert in search of one small Au Ra was futile. Aeritria then turned to a dangerous source of power to send out the needed signal flare, her Dark Knight soul stone.

Aeritria Thorne took a few moments to try to catch her breath and shake away the voices that still tried to reach her from the stone. Running her fingers through her hair to push it out of the way she glared over at it for a moment. "I tried to warn you the darn thing isn't... as helpful as I like sometimes. I really did kick Rath's balls all the way into his throat last time I used the damn thing." Aeri rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, "Sorry... I haven't used it in a long while. With my other soul stones... it’s easy. It’s like they want to help. That one... there is still a bit of a fight going on with who is in charge of who."

 After some time arguing with the voices in her mind, Aeritria finally was able to cause a large enough explosion of aether that could be seen from malms around. The fact that it nearly killed herself and Arakiel was of little consequence.

Arakiel Etemorah wasn't a hero. It just wasn't in him. But he wasn't the same man he'd been a few years ago either. The blade in his hands was quickly sheathed and he rushed forward to where Aeritria stumbled. He wasn't about to pick her up and carry her away from danger like some knight in shining armor. But then, she'd have hated that. He grabbed her by the wrist and literally dragged her behind him. "Come the fuck on!" He wasn't going to let her go until they were behind enough rock to guarantee they would be safe from the explosion that was likely coming.

 Several bells later, their fishing attempt proved fruitful and they noted the appearance of an approaching figure. Unfortunately, it was not exactly who they had been looking for.

Arakiel Etemorah sheathed his blade, looking at her curiously as his hearing had not completely recovered. "One of them?" He looked to where the creature had been sniped and put two and two together. "The boy..." The unknown Miqo'te still seemed rather protective of Beta and stood between them and him, even if his weapon was put away. Beta's familiar voice shouted across the sands as he approached. "It's okay Aasifa, they are... family of a sort I guess?" The one called Aasifa seemed to relax a bit and plopped down in the sand as Beta and Ara and Aeri approached his location. "Aasifa is still thinking there are better ways to fish." He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. Arakiel's steps seemed to hasten as he approached.

 With so many differing personalities… and because Aasifa is Aasifa, some troubles did arise.

 Aeritria Thorne saw Arakiel start choking after Aasifa did whatever the hell it was that he did and her attention snapped to the Miqo'te. Her chakrams came out and pinned Aasifa to one of the rock walls by his sleeves, "The Fuck you think you are doing you piece of shit! What the hell did you do to him?!"  She stood between Arakiel and Aasifa, and if looks could kill he would have been dead a thousand times over. She held a finger up to Beta to shut him up before he tried to 'help'.

 Eventually though, a peace was brokered, and the quartet left in search of the large sources of aether that Beta’s instruments had detected after the explosion Aeritria had caused.

Arakiel Etemorah might have moved to stop Aeri if she had still wielding her chakrams, but he did not expect the idiot cat to die from a punch. Beta called out in frustration as the punch landed. Aasifa for his part might have dodged the attack, if he'd bothered to try. Instead he took the hit to the throat and grinned at her as though he almost enjoyed all the chaos he'd caused. "Was... good... hit." He croaked out from a damaged voice. "Proud... of... sister." He ripped his sleeves free from the blades and found his feet on the sand once more. He didn't retaliate, simply rubbed at his throat and looked at her expectedly. Beta however was exasperated. "I swear to Alexander! Everyone's crazy!" He huffed and put away the smoke bomb and electric charge he'd been prepping if they hadn't stopped. Aeri's words had registered with him, but he knew better than provoking her further and refused to retort. "Can we get back to looking for Ikara now? Since you and I are the only ones who can speak now, I'll take your word for both of you."

Aeritria Thorne grit her teeth, dug her sharp nails into her palms and drew blood from her own hands to keep from murdering Aasifa right there and then. She reached over, grabbed her Chakrams, held them tight for a moment, still wound up and considering putting them through the rest of Aasifa's neck. It was Beta that managed to draw her out of it with his ridiculous cursing, "For fucks sake... didn't anyone ever teach you to curse properly?" She looked to Arakiel then took another breath. "I came out here to find you and Ikara... if Aasifa so much as touches that damn necklace again I will cut it off his neck, and I'm sure Arakiel will help, so if you want to find your girlfriend before something fucking happens to her you better tell you -friend- to behave or leave. Now, if you have an idea of where to go... let’s go."

Beta took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale. "I was trying to..." He frowned at Aasifa and pointed at the necklace. "No more chaos magic!" Aasifa looked like he might argue but Beta glared, and he stopped. "For all you know that thing might have called a hundred sandworms to raid the burn and it would've put her in more danger! So, no more til she's safe!" Beta looked properly angry and despite his inability to curse properly, seemed to convey the same feelings. He then turned to Arakiel. "And don't act like he's all innocent. Stop acting like you are gonna gut me 'cause I didn't know Ikara was out here! Cause I didn't and now I'm gonna find her! Aasifa could easily have seen you as a threat to his friend." Ara narrowed his eyes at the boy but simply turned his chin some and sneered. Finally, he turned to Aeritria. "He goes for the necklace again... stab him... ‘Cause I said not to. But you stop threatening him if he doesn't, 'kay? I've been wandering the burn for weeks now. I'm ready to be done with this place... so I just wanna find Ikara and then we can all go home." He huffed out another breath and continued. "And thank you for helping Arakiel look for her... I'm sorry this is all a mess, but I was trying to do good. So, let's... just do what you came here to do please." He continued a moment later in quieter tones. "And I don't like everyone else’s profanity. It's boring."

 Elsewhere in the Burn though the target of their search was about to have her own random encounter.

Ikara had been wandering the burn for what felt like an age. Trying to track Beta had turned into a much bigger problem than she had originally anticipated. She had made her way into Garlemald, stealing a uniform and posing as a Garlean soldier. Eventually she found the site where the popularis had their operations that Beta had been a part of. She searched every ilm of the area for any signs of Beta or which way he might have went. She eventually found Beta's tomephone, cracked and busted with charred and melted edges. She picked it up and searched the area even more, moving rubble. Eventually she resorted to carefully questioning a few citizens and was told that the rebels had flown off in the direction of the burn via magitek armor. She breathed a sigh of relief in the hope that Beta was on the airship, as she did hear from someone that no one was taken prisoner. All the rebels were killed or escaped, and she hadn't found his body yet. If he wasn't there, he might still be alive. Clutching the little scrap of a tomephone she went in the direction that the few citizens had pointed her in. She eventually found the wreckage of the armor and searched the entire thing from top to bottom. There was still no sign of Beta, but she found some disturbances in the sand and hoped they were the remnants of footprints. She followed them until they disappeared, eaten by the shifting sands. Then she kept looking. She wasn't sure how long she had been searching, but she knew she was lost, and she didn't care. If she was lost, it meant Beta probably was too, and they would eventually find each other.

A few malms away, Lloire had left the simulacrum of Cartenaeu that his mind had created as a battleground for himself and his reflections. Now he wandered the desert sands of the Burn once more, sorting his thoughts. He had no clue how to go about finding the people he needed to find or what order to find them in. Even as that were, were there enough people he worried for to face all the various aspects of his soul?

Some had been quoted as saying that the universe around them had come about in the beginning due to a massive explosion of aether, the same catalyst woke him from his indecisiveness. He hit the sand as an enormous shockwave of aether flew past him, stealing his feet from him.

"The fuck was that?"

As his senses returned to him, Lloire closed his eyes and focused not on where the explosion had been, but on any source powerful enough to have caused it. There was a massive pool of energy to the east of him that was far bleeding aether into the air. It was more than reasonable to assume that who or whatever it was, they were responsible for the massive explosion he'd felt. His fights would have to wait, leaving anything that powerful this close to Doma's borders would be irresponsible. Gathering his feet under him, he took off at a run towards the source of aether.

Ikara had been wandering in the Burn long enough that she felt like she was going blind. The land being so drained of aether meant she saw the world as everyone else did. She felt sorry for them, all the color was gone from this part of the world. She had found a small outcropping of what she originally thought were rocks but had eventually realized was the skull of a very large beast that had once dwelled there, and hidden away for a bit to get some rest and get out of the sun.

Then the world exploded in color far away. She felt it before she ran out and saw it. Her eyes watered from all the colors and she started searching the horizon for any signs of something that would explain it. Clutching the tomephone she started in the direction of the explosion, hoping that maybe if Beta was out there, he would investigate too.

Lloire travelled swiftly across the sand as he rushed towards the source of aether drawing at his senses. Eventually he climbed over an outcropping of rock and saw a figure in the distance. They didn't seem to have noticed him yet but were moving closer to him. If he held his position, he could wait until they were close enough to engage before revealing himself. He moved back behind one of the jutted-out stones and waited.

As Ikara made her way towards the explosion another source of aether caught her eye in the distance and closing in on her position. The aether was wrong, fractured, broken, and extremely potent.

The tomephone she clutched in her hand was tucked into her pocket and replaced by her staff. She had been conserving her aether the whole time she was out here, to the point where it was overflowing. Her necklace had been filled to the brim, but she had waited and not wasted it in case of running into a Garlean contingent or some beast.

She held her staff to her side, loosely and in a nonthreatening manner, but she was ready for whatever was on the other side of the ridge. When she got close enough, she yelled to whoever was there, "I can see you! Come out before I decide that I'll cast first and ask questions later. This is your only warning!"

Her voice was unmistakable. Lloire came out from behind the rocks with a curious expression worn on his face. "Ikara? What are yo--" He wasn't able to finish his question though as the sounds of the winds and shifting sands in the area were pierced with the sound of shattering glass. Ikara, who had the unique advantage of always seeing aether would see a fragment of Lloire's aether break away from the rest.

As for Lloire himself, he collapsed in a heap in front of her while the image of a younger Lloire remained where he had been standing. The Lloire-image began to solidify before finally seeming as alive, even to her vision, as Lloire had moments ago. "I should've known we'd run into you first and I'd be the first to fight..." He sighed. "You remind him... us... of Aliya sometimes." A staff materialized in his hands and a blackmage soul stone pulsed with aether beneath his robes. "I'm called Kid... And so that your older brother can live, I have to fight you with all my might... and you gotta kill me."

As he spoke, the similarities between who Lloire used to be and who Beta was seemed all the more pronounced. "Show him... us... what you're made of. That you won't be another Aliya, okay?"

Ikara was equal parts confused and relieved when Lloire stepped out from behind the rocks. "Nii---..." She watched his aether shard and split then him collapse to the ground and started running for him, without thought to her own safety. That was until a shard split off and started to solidify. Ikara skid to a halt, her staff still out at her side as a younger version of Lloire appeared before her.

"Halone's frosty tits... what the hells?" She eyed the fragment for a moment before flipping down a visor to see if he was still there without her aether sight. Her frown deepened as she tried to piece together what she saw with the visor down, verses what she was seeing with it up, "Oh.... what have you done to yourself big brother..?" His aether had somehow split off and manifested. The younger version of him was real in a sense, but only in so much as the creations she made from aether. It would disappear with time, but not until the wielder or spell was completed or removed.

Mention of Aliya had her frown deepening, "I'll take that as a compliment. Aliya was your best friend." She shook her head at the aether spirit. "I won't fight you. It could hurt the whole of him. He is completely fractured. Let me fix it instead." She wasn't holding her staff weakly at her side anymore though, it was ready in case the splinter decided to attack.

For his part, Kid-Lloire didn't seem to be in a rush to attack her. "It was a compliment. Look, you haven't seen us for a while. The Lloire you know. Nii-san I think? Anyways, he's prolly more messed up now then when he stabbed himself in the chest. He just fought each and every splinter of himself and killed each one. Well, except me and Erioll...." He shook his head energetically. "But that's off subject. The point is... He's finally realized what's got him so screwed up. He's scared that the people he cares for are gonna die. Usually ‘cause of him. There's a lot to unpack, but the basic gist is he needs his friends to prove they can handle their own against him when he's not in control. He's scared of his black magic... or his anger issues... or being you know... Hyur. But the truth is he's only really dangerous when he's whole... and then, only to his enemies. But we gotta prove it to him... us... so, you have to kill me. I'd rather you went into this with full knowledge and not making me force the issue." He huffed a breath, having spoken more than Lloire usually would. "So, what do you say?" The younger Lloire lazily lifted his staff and nodded to Ikara. "I mean, if nothing else... you kinda need to blow some aether." A small almost shy smile was half hidden behind his staff.

Ikara listened and it was clear she was starting to nurse a headache from how dumb it all sounded. Then again, she really wasn't too much different than her brother. She had run off plenty of times without people to protect them. She wasn't sure she trusted any of them to take care of themselves. It was why she was in this gods forsaken desert in the first place.

"Let me examine him, to ascertain that you are telling the truth, though I doubt you are lying. I have to be sure it won't kill him. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I killed him without checking first. Let me do that, and sure... I'll kick your ass." She smirked at him, "I mean, Nii-san is tough, and he taught me a lot, but it’s been a while, and the collective you haven't seen what I'm capable of anymore. Just you know.... do me a favor and let me check him first and I'm down. Also... beforehand... Did you cause that other explosion? Cause really, I can't spend a ton of time here if you didn't. I've god a cute moronic Miqo to save."

The younger manifestation lowered the staff and stepped aside to allow Ikara past to check on Lloire's unconscious form. "Too true, but don't forget... Lloire's been out to war just as long as you presumably have. Don't take this too lightly please." True to his word he would stand still and let her examine Lloire. "Also, no. We thought it was you. You've the largest pool of aether out here beyond our own. The other sources of aether out here are weaker... except one particularly bright spot further south..." His head tilted as he considered -who- she was likely speaking about. "Though, large sources of aether wouldn't help you find Beta but large explosions might. Guess that would make sense. We didn't know he was out here though." He shrugged. "Well, like I said, I can't hold back or we'll know... so I'll try and make it as fast as I can... but no promises."

Ikara was wise enough not to completely let her guard down but moved over to examine Lloire's unconscious form. She examined him as well as she could, even checking to see if he would wake with prodding. He didn't, and she obviously was looking at something with concern, 'These threads of aether tying you to him. If I hurt you, I'm hurting him. To be fair, you are only a portion of his aether, but you are an important part of his being. You won't be destroyed right?" She considered what he said about the spot further south and frowned. "If there was an explosion, I doubt that Beta caused it. He wouldn't give his position away like that... especially when there are Garleans after him... so I'm sorry but I won't be holding back either."

She jumped back and her staff spun in the air as aether pulled not from the land, or from her, but from a single crystal in her necklace. The necklace drained in but a few breaths as she unleashed one of the most powerful spells she had on the fragment of Lloire. She didn't have time to play. Those could have been Garleans killing her boyfriend and she loved her brother, but damn if she was going to let her boyfriend die cause her brother was being stupid. The magic flared bright and large with destruction so that it could be seen for several malms.

When the smoke cleared, Kid was standing in a charred crater, his staff held up as though he were blocking with it and the aether of his mana wall shimmered as the spell dissipated from absorbing the attack. Nevertheless, Flare was an impressive spell and she could see some singed edges around his clothing and armor. Another side of Lloire might have spoken here. Warned her or threatened her, but Kid understood her and knew she was only doing what she needed to in order to protect her loved ones. Instead he returned the attack. He vanished and reappeared nearly on top of her. It was completely against everything one was taught as a thaumaturge and would have been insane if he was fighting a sword wielder. With her so close, she could see the lightning flash in his eyes as his aether swelled. The first strike was a blast of lightning aether that dropped down from the sky towards her. The second was a blast of weak fire that seemed almost pointless in its intensity. Finally, he wrapped up the triple casting of spells with a much more potent fire spell as his entire aura seemed to pulse with heat. The spells complete he took a step back from her to examine their effectiveness.

Ikara honestly would have been disappointed if the first spell had done all the work. It would work for piddly little Garlean soldiers, but this was a part of her brother, and she expected more from him. There was a small smile at the fact that he had gotten his manawall up fast enough. Then again, the spell took plenty of time to cast and gave him amply time to prepare.

When he teleported right in front of her, she laughed. "You should have been a redmage, kid. Its more fun, but to be fair less destructive." to illustrate her point she stepped out of the way of the lightning blast and wacked at his nose with her staff, holding it like a rapier. Which, to be fair, wasn't nearly as quick to maneuver, but was much harder to dodge due to the size of her staff and his proximity. Soul stone or no, she had learned how to leap and fly as a red mage and those things were all body, not magic. She couldn't wield those same spells, but a quick backflip and she was out of the way of the weak fire spell, only to land at the point where he struck with the larger fire spell. It singed her hair and clothes before she managed to get up her own manawall and protect herself from the subsequent blasts.

Already she was working to cast again, though there wasn't a huge explosion this time. Instead she targeted his mind, addling his sense to weaken his spells, then attempted to put the shard to sleep.

The back to back spells struck and Kid felt his mind cloud with the enfeeblements along with the ringing in his head from the staff hit. Still, he seemed immune to sleep spells. It did allow fog his thoughts enough that he responded to her banter rather than continue incessant spellcasting. "Wasn't readily taught when I was around... I'm sure Azure can show you what Lloire's learned though." Wiping idly at his nose to ensure there was no bleeding, he only managed to fire of a scathing blast of energy from his staff as he moved away from her and she saw his aether pool into the ground as leylines became visible beneath him.

Far in the distance of the Burn the group of misfits that were wandering and looking for Ikara could see the mushroom cloud from her first flare, and the subsequent explosions of lightning, fire, and magic lighting the horizon. Aeri immediately turned to Aasifa with an accusatory look, "You do that too?" She was guessing whoever was blowing up the horizon was likely pissing off the little lizard though.

True to Aeri's thoughts, Ikara was getting annoyed. She had hoped to put Kid to sleep long enough to check and make sure her brother wasn't actually being hurt by the fight. "What? I have fight all of you? I ain't got time for that shit. You're wasting enough time as is."

She tried to examine Lloire from a distance to make sure he was still okay, and that moment of distraction gave Kid the opening that he needed to hit her with a blast of energy and make her shake her head to get her vision back. Fighting mages was a lot harder as everything was so damn bright.

Aetheric symbols swirled around her as she started to vent her frustration on the shard of her brother, "Will..." A giant glacier was dropped on him, "You..." Another one, "Just..." Another one... "Piss off!" Aether flared around her in crystalline light and she tapped another crystal in her necklace, though this one didn't drain all the way, instead only draining two thirds of the way as she dropped another huge flare of magic on Kid, then tapped the rest of that crystal and cast a second flare. The power off the flurry of spells back to back was enough to send a shockwave out in all directions.

Kid attempted to ward off the spells but was only able to block off the first set. Those crystals she wore were going to be his undoing if he didn't deprive her of them sooner rather than later. Still, his own pools of aether were rather large and he wasn't exhausting them on flares. Still, the second one she'd unleashed in a row was more than his wards could handle and the explosion blackened his staff arm, leaving it near useless. Still, he wasn't one of Lloire's sides that reacted to anger as easily, not even in the significant pain he was in now. "I... told you... Not going to make this... easy on you!"

He stood up with flames flickering out around him on the ground and took the staff into his other hand. "Enough of this..." Runes began to glow around him as he activated Enochian. "The highest tier of fire magicks he knew was unleashed where she stood, the leylines fed him aether faster and another was cast at her to follow it. "This ends now!" One more swift cast and he'd have the power built up he needed to unleash his largest spell. Another fourth-tier fireball exploded where Ikara was standing and even the group further out could feel the swelling of aether at the battleground.

Hundreds of yalms away Aasifa shot a look around him at the others, looking hurt that he'd been accused. "What? Cannot... be Aasifa, he... is needing to say ...word. Aasifa... has been... quiet. That is a war zone, ...yes?" He croaked out before he grinned widely. "Let's go... and see!" Arakiel frowned and growled but started off towards the explosions before anyone else.

Aeri glanced between Arakiel and Beta both before speeding up the pace the group had set. Which, in all honestly didn't take much as the others were in just as much of a hurry. "I get Ikara can blow shit up... but ... thats a lot of firepower." She shook her head and they all moved as quickly as they reasonably could towards the battle. Aeri had her misgivings about it, as she wasn't really feeling like being blown up in this gods forsaken place, but she had given Ara her word, and she wasn't about to go back on it now.

 Ikara got some satisfaction from Kid's blackened arm. Even thought she had said she was going to put her all into this fight, she was still doing her best to only tap the aether in her necklace as she didn't know what she would find where Beta was. "Oh for Halone's sake... you think this is easy for me? The hardest part of this is not turning the hell around and leaving you to sulk in the fact that I won't fight you. You have the WORST timing ever... I've got places to be! I'm supposed to be saving my boyfriend, not my brother. For fucks sake... worst older brother..."

Fire exploded all around her, but before he could get off all his spells she was moving. This time it was her turn to teleport to him. One moment she was where his spells were aimed, and the next she was standing on top of him and wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug, then smashing her forehead into his nose to interrupt his casting. The first fire spell missed her, the second engulfed both of them, and she aimed her knee for his family jewels when he tried to cast the last spell, aiming to knock him to the ground and just punch him in the face. The whole time she was aiming physical spells at him she was building up her own aether to counter with her own spells.

Kid didn't have a chance to respond right away, her brow had found his nose and it gave a loud crack and blood spewed from the quickly bruising part of his face. "Little brother right now!" He shouted back at her. "You're older than I was!" His aether appeared to stop wavering at all and grew very sure and still as he began reciting the last spell, his eyes locking on her with intense focus. "This ends sis!" The spell was likely one she'd not seen him cast before. It was one that Lloire had learned only recently on the frontlines. His most powerful spell was building over both their heads and it was clear that he meant to put his everything into it, even if it meant a draw and a draw meant they both lost.

Ikara was splattered with warm blood that spewed from Kid's nose, and his words hit a chord with her. It was one of those things she always forgot. She wasn't a kid anymore. She was an adult now. She mostly never felt like one, but she was. She had been through more than most kids ever went through and come across the other side. She had lived to see adulthood. The train of thought was disrupted by the pure aether building as Kid started a spell that she didn't know. She knew if he got the spell off that would be devastating for her, and for Lloire. She had to win, or Lloire would stay broken.

She wiped the blood from her face, and her vision focused on it for a moment making her realize that while it felt real, it still wasn't real. It was all aether, and one thing she was good at was controlling aether. "You're right! I am older than you. I'm an adult, and I don't need Lloire to take care of me. We take care of each other because that is what family does, but I made it this far... and I'll be fine!"

The last five crystals in her necklace started to drain as she pulled the specific types of aether from them. Earth, Air, Fire, Ice, and Lightning... the catalysts that made everything in the world. "I won't destroy you. You're a part of my brother... but I don't have to destroy you to beat you!" She started disrupting the flow of aether in Kid, pulling the elements apart, as she had done so many times with her 'paintings'. Normally she had more time, but right his moment she didn't. She poured all the aether from her necklace into rearranging the aether in this fragment of her big brother. She worked desperately fast, trying to reform him into something else. At the last moment she poured her own aether into building the strongest manawall she could and prayed to Halone to make this work. "I can take care of myself, and you're an egotistical jerk for thinking I can't manage without you!"

 The last words were spoken as his spell went off, and the aether that he was created from shifted into the form she thought of when she thought of their lessons when she was still learning how to cast the simplest spells.

Kid seemed to know that he'd lost in that moment. Despite the spell above them and his own aether breaking down, he smiled. "Good. Remember that... And learn the lesson it took us this long to start to learn..."

Ikara grit her teeth and forced the last strands of aether into place where she wanted them, just as the spell overhead exploded. It could be seen for malms and malms around.

[paigenotblank]

Accidentally Ours (2/7)

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Rose Tyler

Rating: Teen

Written for a prompt for Ten x Rose kid fic/family fic where they adopt kids left orphans that they meet on their travels / and also a prompt for Ten x Rose with a mix of adopted and biological kids (@tinyconfusion​). Tagging @doctorroseprompts​ and @timepetalscollective​ which I think both had those prompts.

Trope: Accidental Baby Acquisition

Warnings: Kid Fic/ Baby Fic/ Pregnancy Fic.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

AO3 / TS

The three stepped out and the Doctor snapped his mouth shut as they came face to face with Jackie Tyler in the middle of her living room.

He mumbled under his breath, “I've really gotta start double checking before we leave the TARDIS.”

Jackie’s eyes strayed down to the infant in her daughter’s arms and then narrowed in on the Doctor with his hand still low on Rose’s back. “An’ jus’ how long have you two been gone this time?”

The Doctor swallowed and began shaking his head. “We haven’t-”

Jackie growled and took a step toward the Doctor. “I have a grandbaby and not one of you saw fit to even ring me?”

“No! Mum, she’s not-” “You’ve got the wr-” Jackie cut him off with a slap to the cheek.

He grabbed his jaw. “Ow.”

“Mum! The baby’s not ours. Really, we’re just babysittin’.”

“Pull the other one.” Jackie looked disbelievingly at the pair of them. “She looks jus’ like you did when you were a baby.”

“Mum, you say that about every single baby you come across. ‘Looks jus’ like my Rose did when she was that age.’ ‘Sides, all babies look alike or they wouldn’t have to put a name band on them in hospital so they don’t get mixed up…" Jackie raised an eyebrow at them. "She’s not even human! She’s from a planet called Skale.”

Jackie scoffed. “You expect me to believe Mr. I Hate Domestics over there is adding nanny to the CV?”

“Jackie, we couldn’t not take her. She’s being hunted by creatures that are... They’re called Gworatimians. They hunt in swarms and target infants, because they’re the most vulnerable in a population.”

Jackie covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.

“They feed off of the brainwave frequencies of time sensitive species and Skales, because of their proximity to Gallifrey, developed a slight time sense. Nothing like the Time Lords had, but because Skales weren’t also telepathic they couldn’t protect their children with mental barriers. Adult Skales develop rudimentary ones given time, but their infants have nothing.” He turned to Rose. “Another advantage that Time Lords had was that because looms created children that were neurologically fully developed, they were able to maintain their own mental barriers right from their looming.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Really? You’re gonna go off on how superior Time Lords are now?”

He turned back to Jackie. “A Gworatimian swarm could sense a being with the right frequency brainwave from millions of miles away. And they’d drain their victims of thought and energy in minutes, leaving them shells of themselves.”

Rose cradled the baby closer to her chest. “Doctor, enough!”

“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought since Skale was destroyed during the war...but it seems that the Skales didn’t all die out. They must have found refuge somewhere that my future self ran into them.”

“Whotcha goin’ on about? Future self?”

“A future me brought her back in time to this me and Rose and asked us to watch her while he dealt with the swarm.”

Jackie rubbed her temples. “You did what now?”

The newborn chose that moment to start crying again. “Mum, please, we can finish this later, but right now we need help. We don’t know what she wants and we don’t know what she needs and we don’t have anything for her and-”

“Blimey. Fine, now I believe you. ‘Cos only that daft alien would think to drop off a baby for babysittin’ with absolutely nothin’ to take care of her.”

“Oi! It must’ve been a very delicate and sudden situa-”

“Please,” Jackie groaned. “It’s a good thing you came here, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a tick. Don’t go swanin’ off before I get back.” She opened the front door and disappeared into the hallway.

“Can you believe your mother?” He rubbed his reddened cheek.

Rose raised the crying baby to her shoulder and swayed gently with her around the small living room, while trying to hide a smile. “Well, it’s true. You didn’t bring us anything but a baby wrapped in three blankets and the nappy she was wearing.”

His eyes grew round and he placed his hands over his hearts. “Et tu, Tyler. Obviously I was in a bit of a rush.”

Rose’s tongue peeked out the side of her smile. “Least Mum doesn’t think she’s ours anymore. Can you imagine?”

“Ah…” The Doctor’s gaze dropped to the red mottled face of the tiny baby and his hearts twinged. To have that kind of life… “Er, right. Yeah, that’s a relief. Wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea about us. Well, more than she already had.” STOP TALKING, idiot! He gave nervous laugh and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Rose mentally kicked herself. Way to go, Rose. Bringin’ that up. Could you be any more stupid?

He noticed her drop her eyes to the carpet and a faint blush on her cheeks. Stupid, stupid, Doctor.

The door opened and Jackie entered with a bottle of formula, several clean nappies, and a small package of wipes.

Rose stared at her mother. “You’ve been gone two minutes. Where’d you-”

“Ellie down in 44 watches her grandson three days a week.” Jackie handed the Doctor the formula. “Make yourself useful an’ heat this up will ya?”

The Doctor took the sonic from his pocket and pressed it against the bottle.

Jackie took the fussing baby from Rose and cooed at her sweetly while she laid her on the rug. “Now there, sweetheart. Bet you want a nice clean nappy and then somethin’ to eat, yeah?” Jackie glanced up at the Doctor and Rose. “You two better pay attention if you plan on doing this the next time. “

Rose kneeled next to her mum and watched her carefully.

Jackie shook her head and addressed the baby. “You jus’ leave it to me, sweetheart.” Quick as flash, Jackie had the baby cleaned and fitted with a new nappie. The Doctor looked on gobsmacked. “When was the last time she ate?”

Rose and the Doctor looked at each other. “Erm…”

“Not since we’ve had her.”

“And that's been 1 hour 37 mins, so presumably before that.”

Jackie clucked and bundled the baby up in her arms. “Do you hear them? Useless.” Jackie settled herself on the loveseat and took the bottle from the Doctor, testing the temperature on her wrist before feeding the little girl. “Thankfully you have Nana Jackie to take care of you.”

Rose hissed, “Mum!”

“What?”

“You’re not...we don’t get to keep her.”

“What’s that got to do with anything? She’s just a helpless little thing and right now we’re who she’s got. So who’s to say I can’t be her Nana Jackie while you’ve got her?”

Rose stood chewing her lip and darting glances at the Doctor, with his hands in his pockets and seemingly lost to his own thoughts. He looked up and was surprised to see Rose watching him. He grinned cheerfully. Rose’s stomach dropped at his usual deflection.

“Your mother’s right.”

Rose jaw dropped. “Say that again?”

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like the baby will remember if Jackie calls herself ‘Jackie’ or ‘Nana.’ There’s no harm in it.”

Jackie put the corner of a throw over her shoulder and lifted the baby upright to burp her. She smirked at her daughter and the Doctor and said, “Or you two ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad.’” Rose spun to face her mother and missed the moment of absolute longing on the Doctor’s face. Jackie, however, didn’t miss a thing. Before Rose could get a word out, Jackie was instructing them, “She’ll be good for a few hours now, but you really need to go run down to the shops and pick up some essentials. I’ll watch her ‘til you get back.”

“Mum…”

“She’ll need formula, bottles and teats, baby-grows, nappies, wipes, powder and ointment, a car seat-”

“A car seat?”

“I assume she’s gonna be traveling with you in that box of his. It’ll be safest if she’s in a car seat. Also, some toys, burp cloths, bibs, a changing mat, a cot-”

“Mum!”

“She’s gotta sleep somewhere, Rose.”

“Thanks, Jackie. I’ve got a cot on the TARDIS already. Come on, Rose, let’s go.” He dragged her from the flat before she could protest. Jackie’s laugh followed them out into the hallway.

---

Two weeks later, Jackie was sitting on her couch watching EastEnders when the faint outline of a blue box began materializing in her living room.

She folded her arms across her chest as the Doctor made his way through the door.

“What did I say about parkin’ your box in my-” Jackie raised and eyebrow when Rose walked out pushing a pram. “Oh! Still got 'er then?”

Rose sighed. “Yeah.”

The Doctor used Jackie’s distraction to pop into the kitchen.

“He better not eat all the jammie dodgers, I just did the shopping yesterday!”

“Hey, Doctor, Mum said she bought you jammie dodgers!”

“Rose!”

From the other room, they could hear the Doctor yell, “Brilliant!”

Rose yelled, “Make us a cuppa too, while you’re in there!”

Rose took the baby out of the pram and sat down next to her mum. Jackie smiled at the intensity of the baby’s concentration when she looked up at Rose. ”You used to look at me like that. Like I was your whole world.”

Rose reached over and squeezed her mum’s hand. “The Doctor says she’s brilliant and soakin’ everything up. He can even talk with her now.”

“He’d talk to a rabbit in the forest that one.”

“No. I mean he speaks baby, so he knows what she’s wantin’ when she wants it. Hardly ever cries anymore.”

“Well, that’s a handy skill for a parent.” Rose frowned at Jackie. “And don't you tell him I said that.”

Rose bit back a grin. “Oh no, can't have the Doctor knowing you find him at all impressive.”

“Course not. He’s got a big enough head as it is.” Jackie ran her thumb over the baby soft cheek. “So what’ve you been callin’ her?”

“Mostly ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart.’”

“I meant for a proper name.”

“I’m not gonna rename her.”

“Well, if she’s got one, what is it?”

“How should I know. The Doctor...the future Doctor, the one that dropped her off, never said. But her parents must’ve named her, even if we don’t know what it is.”

“An’ when’s he gonna come back for her?”

Rose bit her lip. “The Doctor thinks any day now.”

“What if himself is wrong? Remember 12 hours - 12 months, Rose? What if the future one thinks it’s been 2 weeks an’ when he finally gets back it’s been 2 years? You can’t get by with calling her ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’ for two bleedin’ years.”

“It’s not going to be two years.”

“It’s already been two weeks! When are you going to consider that maybe she needs a proper name?”

Rose sighed and stared down at the baby. She began to fuss and Jackie scooped her up from her daughter.

“There, there, darling. I know you’re just wantin’ to belt’ out a lovely little melody, but- Oh, Rose, what do you think of the name Melody?”

“Mum, stop it.”

“Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist.”

“Please, that’s...just don’t.”

The Doctor strode into the room with two piping hot mugs of tea and a warmed bottle. “She getting hungry, Jackie?” He looked over Jackie’s shoulder and grinned. “Ah, is it time for someone’s mid-morning snack?” The Doctor put the mugs on the coffee table with the bottle and took the baby from Jackie. “You ladies enjoy your tea, and I’ll take this little one back to the kitchen for her feeding.” He grabbed the bottle and had the teat between her lips before he even made it through the door.

“He’s better at that than I imagined.” Jackie offered Rose a cuppa as she sat beside her on the couch and noticed her frown. “What’s the matter, love?”

“I have to remember that she's not mine and I don't get to keep her. I can’t give her a name and then expect to be able to let her go.” Her eyes filled with tears and Jackie put the tea on the table before drawing Rose into her arms. She buried her head in her mum's neck and began to cry. “I...I just love her already. So much. And I don't know how ’m I gonna give her up.”

Jackie rubbed Rose’s back. “We do what's best for our children whether they’re biological or not. That’s what bein’ a parent is.”

“It's gonna hurt.” Rose took a shaky breath.

“Being a mum hurts, sweetheart.” Jackie kissed Rose on the side of the head and sat back. “You bring home this perfect little miracle from the hospital or wherever and you’re her whole world. And then one day you wake up and she just doesn’t need you as much as she did the day before. She wants to feed herself even though she can barely get the spoon in her mouth. She wants to pick out her own clothes even though they don’t match. She pulls away one little step at a time, fights for her independence. Needs you a bit less each day. Stops telling you everything thing that happened in her day. Starts spending more time with friends and then boyfriends and then a mad alien in a blue box.”

“Mum…”

“And then one day you realize your little baby is grown and has her own life and you’re on the outside looking in. You might get a call or a visit once in a while, but it’s not the same and you don’t know where the time went.” Jackie wiped tears from her eyes. “Each baby step away is like a little dagger to the heart, but you take hope in the fact that she knows you love her more ‘an anything and will do everything you can for her. ‘Cos she’ll always be your baby at heart.”

“Oh, Mum.” Rose grabbed her mum’s hand. “You know I love you too, yeah?”

“I know, Rose. An’ I love the woman you’ve become. I do. I’m not sayin’ that.” The two women embraced for a few moments, before Jackie leaned back and looked solemnly at her daughter. “But I want to say one more thing, and then I’ll leave off.”

Rose worried her lip, but nodded.

“After your father died, I...I went a little outta my head. I was so afraid of living without him and imagining all these ways I could lose you too. Was convinced I would.”

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but Jackie cut her off.

“No, let me say it. I’m not proud of it, an’ thankfully it didn’t last long. You were so young, and when I tried to distance myself, you got clingy. The more clingy you got, the harder I tried to pull away.”

“What changed?”

“Your nan. She set me straight. Made me see what I was doin’ it wasn’t fair to you. Puttin’ walls around my heart wasn’t gonna stop me from getting hurt. Was doin’ the opposite. Babies need unconditional love. But they give it back. Lovin’ you healed me after your father’s death.”

Rose sniffled and tried to hold back her tears.

“I know it’s not fair, sweetheart. You didn’t ask to be in this position, but neither did she. And that Doctor in the future, maybe he knew something. Maybe you’re what's best for her right now. Let me ask you something. You said you already love her…”

“Yeah.”

“Well, is it really going to hurt less if you pretend not to? Losing her is going to hurt, do you want to have regrets that you held back? Loving someone with your whole heart is never a waste. Even if it breaks your heart.”

Rose sat quietly pondering what her mother said, when the Doctor entered in a flurry of activity. “Ready to go? Oh, er, am I interrupting?”

Jackie patted Rose’s hand. “No, just finishing our catch up. I’ll let you two get on.”

Jackie stood and pulled the Doctor into a hug, kissed the baby, and turned to Rose. “Don’t be strangers.”

Rose hugged her mum. “Of course not. We’ll be back for another visit soon. Maybe you could make your shepherd’s pie and we could have a proper sit down.”

Jackie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Rose glanced at the Doctor whose eyes were wide in surprise. “Right, Doctor?”

He snapped his jaw close. “Er, yeah, don’t see why not. We’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

Rose gave her mum one last squeeze before grabbing the pram and following the Doctor into the TARDIS.

After setting the TARDIS into the time vortex, he turned to Rose. “What was all that about dinner with your mum?”

“She’s lonely and I...I don't know...” Rose put her hands on her hips with a scowl. “I should make time to have dinner with her every once in a while.”

The Doctor stepped back, eyes wide.. “No, I, er, quite right.”

Rose swallowed thickly. “I...there’s somethin’ I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, eh, okay.”

“I'm gonna start calling the baby ‘Melody.’”

The Doctor looked down at the sleepy bundle in his arms and then back to Rose. “You...what?”

“Mum came up with it and I think it's a beautiful name.”

“But-”

“We can't go on calling her ‘baby’ indefinitely. She needs a name.”

“But she could leave any day now.”

Rose nodded. “She could, and then she can go back to her parents and they can call her by whatever name they gave her, but until she does, I’m callin’ her ‘Melody.’”

“Oh...” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don't you like it?”

“No. Yes. It's a lovely name, but what's this all about?”

“I know I won’t get to keep her, but she needs a mum. An’ that's what I’m gonna be to her while she’s here. She needs someone to love her. And I do. I can't help how I feel. And I want her to know how much, even if it hurts at the end.”

The Doctor looked away from Rose.

Rose sighed. “I’m sorry, Doctor.”

He looked at her in surprise. “What for?”

“I...I know this is difficult for you and I never really considered things from your point of view...regarding us. You told me about the curse of the Time Lords an’ all, but I just kept seein’ it from my side. Like it was some sort of test. Wasn’t I worth it to you and all that.”

“Rose, of course you’re-”

“No. I mean, I get it now. I really do. I didn’t take your feelings...your hearts into consideration, which...which was selfish of me.”

“Rose-”

“And I didn’t even realize it until I did the same thing with Melody. Convinced myself it would be easier, if I held back a little piece of my heart. And I just want you to know that I understand and I’m not gonna press you anymore. I'm gonna respect your decision.”

“What do you mean? You’ve not-”

“Please. I know I haven’t always made it easy for you. An’ it might’ve been a bit intentional on my part. But I’ll ease back on the flirting like the huggin’ an’ cuddling an’ stuff.”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, I don't-”

“Let me finish. I'm not saying I don't still want-” She took a deep breath and continued, “Just the ball’s in your court now.”

“Rose, I…”

Rose tilted her head and waited.

“You know how important you are to me, right?”

Rose met the Doctor’s searching gaze and could see the intensity in his eyes. She knew he cared for her, though she didn’t quite know how deeply that care went. She nodded anyway.

“It's not that I don't want...in fact I want more than anything…I just, I don't know how I'll…I can’t lose you, but...” The Doctor shifted Melody in his arms and ran a hand through his hair.

Rose stepped closer to the Doctor and put her hand on his arm. “I’m never not gonna be your best mate. So if that’s all you can be then...then that’s what we’ll be, but I...” Rose closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking once more at the man who was her everything. “I love you.” She watched as a million emotions ran over the Doctor’s features - surprise, elation, longing, hope, fear. “Just thought you should know. That’s what’s in my heart. When you figure out what it is you want - whether it is exactly what we have right now or...more, you know where to find me. I promise, I'm not goin’ anywhere.”

He released the breath he was holding. “You’ll be the first to know.”

Rose gave him a small smile and went to grab Melody, but the Doctor pulled back. “I'll watch her for a bit. If you don't mind...Mum?”

Her smile widened and she blushed. “Yeah, okay. I'm gonna make myself a cuppa and then maybe watch a movie.”

The Doctor nodded. “I’ll meet you in the media room in a few.”

He watched Rose leave the room with a pang to his hearts. What’d I do to deserve her? He scoffed at himself. Nothing. ‘Cos I don’t deserve her.

He shook his head and smiled at the baby. “Hello there, Melody.” The baby cooed up at him. “Oh, you like your new name do you? It meets with your approval? Rose said...fine, your mum said your nan picked it out...We don’t ever tell Jackie that, but yes, your nan can be rather wonderful. Raised your mum all on her own. Did you know that? You can call me ‘Doctor’ you know...but that’s my name...awww come on ‘Not-Mum’ is-” Melody started to whimper. “Okay, ‘Not-Mum’ it is. Please stop, sweetheart. There, there...You wanna go find your mummy?”

The Doctor and Melody left the console room and headed for the media room. “I know that Mum is soft and smells good and...I never said she wasn’t!...She does give the best hugs...I can’t imagine...that’s the issue...Oi! Well, that’s just rude.” The Doctor sighed. “I know I’m being an idiot. But-” He looked down at Melody in surprise. “You’re very wise for 2 weeks old. Has anyone ever told you that?” He laughed at her response.

The Doctor plopped down on the sofa next to Rose and passed the baby off to her. He kissed the side of her head and swung his arm around her shoulder. Rose stared at him in shock and his grin widened.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yup.”

“But I thought we decided-”

“You decided that you were going to withhold affection until I got my act together, not me.”

“Doctor..."

He released a deep breath. “This is me getting my act together.”

Rose raised her eyebrow. “I’ve been gone all of five minutes. You can't possibly have just change your mind in-”

“Rose...I want this. I want to help you raise Melody for as long as we have her. I want your hand in mine while we explore the universe. I want to be with you.”

“And you decided just like that.” Rose clicked her fingers.

“I've always wanted that. That hasn't changed.”

“And you're suddenly okay with...with me withe-”

“Don't. Please. I’ll never be okay with…that.” The Doctor snuggled against Rose. “But Melody reminded me that you smell good and give excellent hugs.”

Rose snorted and the Doctor could hear the humor in her voice when she said, “Melody, huh?”

“Mmhmm. She’s brilliant, our daughter.” Rose gasped. “She reminded me that I never want to be without them, even for a day.”

Rose turned her head away from the Doctor. “I didn’t mean to pressure you-”

He cupped her chin and turned her back to face him. “You didn’t. Little madam even called me an idiot, which I think she must’ve picked up from your mum.”

Rose tongue poked out the side of her smile. “That so?”

“Mmhmm. Said I’ve been an idiot for squandering what time we do have.”

She worried her lip, but couldn’t drop her gaze away from the Doctor’s intense stare.

“Rose, this life we live, it’s dangerous. I could lose you well before your time, an’ the thing is...” He took a deep breath. “You could lose me, too. Would have done, if it had been up to me back on Satellite Five. It’s both of us that are taking a chance. Not just me. You’re so much braver than I am.”

“I'm not.”

“You are. And the thing is nobody knows what the future brings, so if it’s all the same to you, I’d like my future to have as many Rose Tyler hugs as can fit in it.”

“Yeah?”

He lifted his free hand to her cheek and she nuzzled against it. “Yes. No regrets, Rose.”

“Erm…” Rose bit her lip. “So is it just hugs we’re discussin’?”

The tips of the Doctor’s ears turned red and he dropped his hand to tickle Melody. “M-” He cleared his throat. “I’d be amenable to more. If maybe you wanted...”

Rose shifted her body to better face him. “I’m not playing this game anymore, Doctor. You know what I want. What is that you want?”

His breath left him in a rush. “Everything. I want everything.”

Rose leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. His eyes fluttered closed and he made a soft humming sound in the back of his throat.

When she pulled back, she asked, “That okay?”

He nodded shakily. Rose snuggled back into his side and the TARDIS started playing The Muppet Movie for them.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Do you have any headcanons for ftm trans scout? Tf2 is a great game but it could use a little more representation..

Actually, I have a favourite little fanfic about exactly that. 

[That Name by Diredevil]

-

Headcanons?

Well, when they first band together, we know Scout is LOUD about how amazing a guy he is, and how fast/smart/strong/etc he is. And I think, perhaps under the circumstances there would be two reasons…The first being to establish himself as he/him to the group unforgettably, and secondly, to make himself feel comfortable in a new environment where things are uncertain.

That is to say, at home it’d been a bit weird for a bit as his Ma and brothers kept accidentally using [dead name] instead of Jeremy, and the wrong pronouns, but they got it eventually. Ma had cried when she realised, not bc there was anything wrong with Scout… just that “she’d accidentally given him the wrong name” (bc she had [dead name] and Jeremy picked out before he was born]. It was pretty touching.

Sure, someone made a smart comment about it… but Scout rarely had to raise a bat, before someone in the family was breaking their teeth and demanding they respect their brother. It was nice.

But on base, with RED? This was a different kettle of fish.

Scout had impulsively taken the job, even if it worried his family, that he was so far away with strangers. They didn’t say it out loud, but they didn’t want him away somewhere they couldn’t get to, if he needed them. And vice versa.The family was a Unit, and while their reputation kept low-level problems away, there were always threats that needed more than one person alone to deal with. 

Scout had fidgeted just about out of his skin the whole train ride to Teufort, it was boring as hell, especially for someone who liked to run. Besides, he was a bit worried about the outfit. You could see faint outlines of his bandages through it… he’d come up with a million excuses as to why he was wearing them… but who knew what would come out of his mouth when he was asked?

After a few useless minutes of internally panicking over it, Scout shoves the thoughts away and starts to hype himself up… 

RED didn’t just pick anyone, yeah? They needed the fuckin’ best!And here he was, the BEST at what he did!

-

Arriving was no big deal. 

Some others were there, others still coming. The Sniper seemed nice, but distant, but according to the others he was always like that. He seemed quiet, too, which was maybe why he’d just about run for cover when Scout started to rapidfire talk at the poor bugger… Funny, most Aussies were more… well, MORE. Then again, Scout wasn’t gonna go pointing fingers at the guy.He’d nearly been crushed by the Pyro’s hug, and Engineer slung a companionable arm over Scout’s shoulders as the Texan showed the runner about the place. If he noticed anything amiss, the man said nothing. Very friendly pair… Scout’d thought, til he saw the fucking flamethrower Pyro used… the way the flames reflected off the empty gasmask lenses sent a thrill of fear through the runner.

There was a Spy somewhere… Engie said he’d probably seen Scout already and would make himself known eventually.

The Soldier and Demo were playing cards when he’d met them; Soldier was almost as loud, and Demo seemed amazingly friendly. They’d invited him to play, but Engie pointed out they’d need to finish the tour first… 

So far, so good.

The Heavy hadn’t come in yet, something about having to take a secret flight out of Russia. And the Medic arrived an hour after Scout, so their introduction was brief… but the man had taken hold of the runner’s arm, when Engie was further ahead and asked how he was doing; and mentioned that he was aware of ‘zhe situation, so Scout should not hesitate to come to Medic vith any concerns, ja?’

Which was nice, but a little shocking even though it shouldn’t be. The doc would have been told… it was just, Scout wasn’t quite ready for others outside the immediate family and neighbourhood to know, right?

Medic had patted his shoulder, frowned a moment to himself, then ambled away. It was then the runner realised the man had a live, blood-spattered dove, on his shoulder… ‘Archimedes’ turns out, how’d he missed that?

Still, it was a solid introduction… his room was pretty nice, the lounge area or ‘common room’ had a sorta okay couch and a tv, so that was great. They were ordering pizza for dinner, but Engie mentioned something about making a cooking roster, once everyone’d settled in… that sounded exciting… not.Scout, despite his Ma’s best attempts to teach him, couldn’t cook for shit. Well, toast and basic stuff, but he swears the one time he tried to make a cake for his Ma’s birthday, the recipe book caught fire before he could start… it could sense an impending disaster.

The only real bother was… the bathroom. Standard set-up of a high school locker room, really… lockers, mirrors and sinks, a few cubicles, a urinal or two… and a long row of showers. Where were the stalls Miss P promised?

Fuck, this was going to be a problem.

Thankfully, he was still touring with Medic, who leaned over to mention that the Infirmary happened to have a small bathroom ‘vhich just so happened to have a shower if he vas interested’… and the runner let out a sigh of relief. “Doc, I could fuckin’ kiss ya…” he beamed, and the German chuckled.“Another time, perhaps, Herr Scout… I have to unpack first.” 

Seems like everything was pretty settled then. 

-

Miss Pauling called in, bringing the Heavy (or, as Scout first assumed, a mountain with a FACE holy shit the dude was big) with her. She spoke to each merc in turn, ascertaining whether they’d noticed anything they needed or if they’d noticed anything broken.

She was also trying to work out groceries, they’d get a weekly delivery from the local store at whatever base they ended up on… but for now there was an ad hoc list being tossed together. If they needed anything else… well, there was always the store itself. Engie had a truck, Medic an ambulance and the Sniper, his van.

Apparently this Spy fellow had a vehicle, but no one had seen him to ask. 

When Miss P got to Scout, and god did he have the worst crush on this amazing woman, she asked the same questions she had the others… then quietly leaned in to mention that if he told her his preferred brand, she could make certain any sanitary items he needed were sent on a bi-weekly basis. Maybe a calendar too. 

“Generous as you are smart and gorgeous, Miss P…” he’d grinned back, trying to charm.

She’d laughed, lightly, and put on a sympathetic smile. “Thank you, though you should know I’m not really into guys… or I’d date you in a heartbeat.” she teased. 

That? That sent Scout’s confidence into overdrive for the rest of the day… right up until he first met Spy.

-

Scout had taken a quick shower in the Infirmary when everyone else was busy. But as he left, he ran straight into Spy… the man literally appearing out of nowhere. He swore quite loudly in surprise, but the other remained nonchalant, narrowing his eyes at the runner.

“What are you doing here?” Spy asks, eventually. 

“Er… taking a shower?” Scout answers, truthfully. Holding up the messy bundle of his travel clothes and towel as proof.

“Non, I mean… what are you doing out here, on zhis base… ma fille?” Spy asked again, tilting his head. 

Now, Scout wasn’t sure what the french meant, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good. “I’m here cause I’m the best, ya fruity bastard, what’re you good at, hide’n’seek?” he mouths off in response.

Spy fixes the runner a look, dead in the eyes, as he says, “Zhis is no place for little girls, (dead name), you should know that by now.” 

And before Scout can even defend himself, the man has cloaked and gone.

Fear pools in the pit of his stomach, gnawing at him; it was all going so well, fuck, this wasn’t fair… his skin was crawling at hearing that fucking name again, especially laced with such-… such-… 

He wasn’t sure. Smug, condescending, cold… but all thrown together. That sense of wrongness, of displacement, which he thought had long since died since he’d had the chance to express himself properly… came flooding back. Fuck. If he could just… could just get to a phone and call Ma or one of his brothers… it’d be okay… he’d be okay…

“You okay, mate?” comes a voice by him, and nearly startles Scout out of his skin. Sniper’s by him, looking concerned. “Run in wiv the Spook, hey? Right bloody wanker he is, can’t wait to watch him die through me scopes.”

He’s hovering, not touching, because maybe he’s seen someone having a breakdown before, but the voice is a nice anchor. 

“B-be fine in a second, just gotta… phone home.” Scout says, simplifying his situation, and Sniper just nods. What had he heard? Fuck, did he know too?

Day one hadn’t been the time he wanted to disclose everything… 

“Sure, there’s one near the common room, but if you’re after privacy, I got one in me van, mate. C’mon… let’s set you right.” Sniper reassures, guiding the runner outside, and opening the van door. He points out the phone, offers a chair and asks if Scout was okay to be alone… the runner said yes, and dials the familiar number… relief flooding through him as his Ma picks up.

She’d sensed something was up with ‘her baby’ (he was going to be fifty with six kids of his own, and still be the family baby, Scout just fucking knew it)… and waited by the phone for his call.

“Jeremy, is everything okay?” she’d asked.Scout opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and told her everything. Afterwards, there was a moment of quiet before his Ma’s angry-calm tone came back on the line… “Oh, he did… did he?”There was three seconds when Scout assumed his mother was on her way here to flat out fucking murder the guy, before she sighed. “Scout, I didn’t wanna tell ya this LIKE this… but, I kinda knew about Spy before you left. He said he was working there too… was real pissed you were chosen’ n’everything. He knows, mostly ‘cause it’s his job to, and kinda cause he’s ya dad… I didn’t want you to find out like this, but it’s why he knew. No one told him or nothing. I’m so sorry honey.”

Spy was WHAT?

“Bombshell, huh? Well, least I got the best part of our union… you, baby. Wouldn’t trade ya for anything…” his Ma continued. She was always giving little peptalks like this to her boys… most of ‘em didn’t know their dads, but she was more than enough of a parent to them. Even when they surprised her on a daily basis (from pet snakes, to Johnny’s first boyfriend, to the time they put poprocks in a cake, and a thousand other ridiculous things). 

“Aw god, Ma…” he whines, flushing a little. “I’m good now… but thanks for picking up the phone so fast.”

“Anytime, my baby boy, anytime. And you let the bastard know I’m gonna kneecap ‘im when I see him next… love ya, bye!” 

He hears the phone clunk down, and chuckles. There’s a knock on the door, and Sniper peers in, “You good? Heard ya still on the phone when I got back… didn’t wanna interrupt, hate when people do that.”

“Yeah, fine… thanks.” Scout responds.

“Good, mate… time for tucker, anyway. C’mon, that Engineer bloke made something that smells amazing.” Sniper yawns, rubbing at his face. “Sorry, s’not you… timezones here are all warped around, still trying to get used to it. I mean, I did take international jobs before, but that was like, a week at most in another country, now I have to be on-board for battle in your morning… which is my night, y’see?”

The casual talk just seemed to set Scout at ease, as they moved towards the common room -it was the only room in the base with a dining table after all. He didn’t wanna go slinging the word ‘friendship’ around like some starry eyed primary schooler but… he’s pretty sure they’ve somehow formed one in the last hour. Not sure how, exactly, but it was pretty good.

-

Dinners were loud, chaotic and fun.

Spy slunk in at some point, but refused to talk. There was discolouration about his nose, and his mask seemed to bulge about the nose, like there was a dressing there. He glowered at Scout, then at Sniper; who grinned at the runner.

Turns out he’d decked the bastard one, when Scout was on the phone. Now, the runner wasn’t one for arbitrarily throwing marriage proposals around, but… He’d thanked him, and Sniper dismissed it with casual ease. 

Someone asked Spy about his face, and he made a scathing remark about feral bushmen and little girls that no one bothered to pry into. Otherwise, dinner was great, engie was a hell of a cook. 

-

Medic had to give them all their physicals, and insert the respawn chips… but apparently he also had something called an ‘uber implant’ that he was going to put in at the same time. Scout doesn’t remember much of it… just Medic doing a once over, tutting at the bandages (yeah yeah, not like ya can just order a freakin’ sports bra out of the Mann Co catalogue without someone asking questions), and using his bird as a distraction whilst he sneakily got the needle-fearing runner with the anaesthetic. 

Scout would never forgive archie, the fancy pigeon had fooled him with that fluffy please-pet-me wiggle… fully knowing his owner was waiting to pounce.

Still, when he woke up, his chest felt heavier than usual, not too bad just off. And the back of his neck was tingly. No scars though… which was fucking weird. That medigun thing was pretty amazing. 

For a second, Scout feels something wiggle around inside his ribcage… and then a coo. “Uh, Doc?”

He hears, “Oh schiesse, Archimedes you naughty bird!” before Medic’s at it with the anaesthetic again. 

-

When Scout finally wakes up birdfree, everything feels relatively normal. He gets up, slips on his clothes and thanks the Doc for everything, throwing a suspicious glance at Archimedes. 

“Uh, hey Doc… if ya got a fancy gun that can fix everything, how come Spy still looks like Snipes inverted his nose?” he suddenly asks, curious. 

Medic, looking slightly terrifying as he caresses his bonesaw, laughs. “Oho, vell… I vas informed by someone zhat his injury vas vell-deserved, und felt perhaps he vill learn his lesson better should he be left to suffer…”

…perhaps this was a man to be feared… even if he occasionally handed out lollipops after operations. Scout had a red one in his mouth right now. 

“Ya the best doc, I ever tell ya that before?” Scout grins. Another question was swirling around his mind, as he lingered in the doorway… and Medic seemed to sense it. “Uh, and also about ya medigun, can it… ya know how it don’t do scars and all, can ya maybe fix…” he points at his chest. 

“Vhen you are ready, a little later on, ve can discuss dealing vith other concerns such as zhat one. It is no big matter, surgically from my standpoint; but zhere are physiological implications to take into account. Und zhis is only day one… ve have time, I assure you; but for now you really must find something better zhan bandages. Zhe Medigun und respawn can heal some damage, but permanent use can deform your body…” Medic responds.

“I’ll try,” he says, “but ya mean it? ‘Cause we couldn’t find anyone at home who would…”

“Zhey are fools, zhen. Luckily, ve are on zhe same team…” winks Medic, “Now shoo, I have others to see today besides you, young man…” 

“Ya saying you don’t wanna appreciate all this gorgeous manly beauty for a little longer? I’m shocked! Here I was doing ya a solid by giving ya something nice to look at, when ya have to spend the rest of the day dealing with all the other old codgers…” Scout grins, cheekily, flexing… then ducking and laughing, as Medic tosses a handful of tongue depressors at him. 

“Get out of here, you cheeky junge…” the German manages, laughing heartily at the other’s antics. Scout pokes his tongue out as he disappears around the door.

-

His first death was a shock. Both to him, and the bloke who shot him.

The BLU!Scout’s eyes went wide as the scattergun exploded, and blood welled through the shirt; Scout felt fiery pain for a moment, then cold… then finally, nothing. His body hit the ground, before he could even process it… and then, he was kinda, here but nowhere.

Just for a few seconds though. It was like the teleporters, really, you just stayed in place, a continuous stream of consciousness… but you moved places. Some light, a weird whirring noise… and suddenly, he was back where he started the match. It was 2Fort, so the room was small, stark, and sparsely furnished. 

It felt real fuckin’ bizarre. 

He was immediately flattened by the Medic popping out of nowhere in a haze of light, landing on him. Scout made a strained wheeze, while the other scrambled up and off. 

“Scout? Oh, sorry… vell, zhat vas a unique experience, I must say. We had better move before Herr Heavy comes through…” Medic mutters. “Zhat BLU Spy is quite zhe pest, especially vith those disguises and all…”

“Sixty seconds remaining of Testing Phase Match.” warned the Administrator. 

This match was a formality, neither side was to win, just… die, and learn to cope with it. They’d only been in it for five minutes or so, so far, but it wasn’t supposed to last long… 

Scout’d made a  mental map of the sewers by now (that was a surprise), and even made it to the other intel room (though it was empty), before he’d been chased down by the BLU Scout. It was bizarre to think they could just… resurrect, no matter what… but everyone was getting used to it.

“See ya out there, Doc!” Scout winks, and leaves as Heavy reappears in the spawn sector.

-

Battle had been going great. Hell, he’d died hundreds of times that week alone, and killed almost as many; captured intel, lost it, taunted, attacked, defended, caught out the BLU Spy a few times…

Saved lives, had his life saved.

God, the Doc had even ubered him a few times and that was… wow, it was like being a god in a finite form, even for just a few seconds. He fuckin’ loved it!

Spy was still being a dick, but like, in French. Heavy and Medic seemed to understand him, because they tended to glare the man down… but Scout didn’t give a shit. Let the guy be bitter and weird about it, anyone who legs it on their family wasn’t worth anyone’s time anyway…

The others were pretty great to know, actually. Kind of like his own family, a bit weird, chaotic and sometimes the kitchen caught fire… but safe, fun, protected. Being here was turning out pretty great. 

He could almost forget who he was outside the base, ‘cause no one ever used names, only Classes here. And sure, that seemed real weird to begin with, but it made sense and all. Though he still called home once a week to touch bse with Ma and all… that was a given.

Apparently Snipes did too, so Scout didn’t feel so awkward about admitting to the others he needed to call his Ma… it was hard enough being the youngest without saying that sort of thing. Still, he can always use the one in the van if he needed, Sniper had offered. 

Engie kept calling him ‘son’, and teaching him things. Did something similar with Pyro, except he used ‘Py’, ‘cause no one was sure what the firebug identified as… never saw them outta the suit, either, to take a guess. 

Scout could now make… exactly one tiny model of a sentry that shot nails. He was also banned from pranking people with it…

Demo always had an amazing story to captivate the room with. Though Scout didn’t quite trust the magical talking sword the guy had… it gave the runner an eerie feeling just looking at it. He did like to drink, and who wouldn’t given some of the stuff the guy had seen? But he was pretty good at keeping the rest of the base from any drunken shenanigans. He’d even talked a very inebriated Soldier-Medic duo out of taking a nude dip in the water beneath the 2Fort bridge… despite how adamant the pair were at the time.

Heavy, as it turns out, was a ridiculously smart man. Just his English ain’t great, yet so Scout had to stop slinging slang at the poor guy, because it was too hard to keep up. Heavy sometimes read books aloud, for Scout… and sometimes Medic who was usually nearby pretending the two weren’t together, but Scout wasn’t an idiot. ‘Cause the runner had issues with words, they sometimes slid off the page when he was reading and it was a pain… made school harder than it had to be, really.

Medic & Sniper were consistently on his side.

Soldier was a very loud man, who firmly believed in certain ideals (e.g. all of RED were Americans) and acted like a commander most of the time. But he was a nice guy, if chaotic… he’d adopted a whole host of raccoons recently… that was a unique experience. Still, he never failed to let the team know his thoughts, nor failed to praise, bolster, encourage when necessary

Scout would just like it if the guy could stop with the “What are you, a girl?”/ “C’mon ladies, time to take your tampons out and man up!”/etc. thing. He knew it was just something the super macho army guys’d yell at each other but it was a little grating… but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

…until his tolerance level took a rather strong hit, as it usually did, once a month. He was a very fit young man, so generally it wasn’t a problem, you learned to live with it after a bit; even in guy clothes. His Ma worked out a solution with her sewing kit and twenty minutes of staring at a pair of new briefs. 

But even the most athletic people still have a bad period now and then. It wasn’t… like, traumatic or anything, for Scout; it was just part of his life, and he was a guy who sometimes felt like death was coming once a month. If he was lucky, a few cramps and that could be easily dealt with through painkillers and stretching… but there were times, when they were pretty damn bad. Like, on the verge of puking, bad. 

And of course, it had to happen eventually on base… but he’d been hoping, maybe, not the first month here. Of all fucking times!His performance took a bit of a dive, because of this, and maybe that’s why he didn’t censor himself when Soldier yelled at him. 

“C’mon maggot, stop being a damn sissy and get out there!” 

“How ‘bout you go fuck yourself?” he snaps back, breathing through the odd twinges emanating from his abdomen. God damn it, why now? They were 2-2 on intel capture, and his freaking uterus was trying to escape…

“How dare you backtalk a superior officer! Where’s all this sass coming from, you PMS-ing like a girl, soldier?” the other shouts, and Scout is thankful they’re alone, because he’s in too much discomfort to give a shit as he answers.

“YES, you flag-fucking son of a bitch!” he snaps back, and immediately panics. His eyes go wide, and they both stare at one another for a long minute.

Soldier looks him up and down, frowning. Or at least, Scout thinks that’s frowning, based on the fact the helmet obscures most of his face.

“…Private, I’m sorry.” Soldier breaks the tension with, surprising the runner. “Had I been informed of your tactical situation, son, I would have used different motivational techniques…”

Scout feels the anger, the fear, dissipate somewhat. Soldier seems genuinely distressed that he’s upset the runner…

“…I didn’t tell anyone ‘cept Doc and I think maybe Snipes worked it out. Didn’t wantcha to think like Spy, that I don’t belong on RED ‘cause they got my birth certificate wrong…” Scout says, clenching his fist as another twinge ruins the moment.

Soldier puts his hand on the runner’s shoulder in a companionable display of affection. “Son, I-… RED are the best at what they do, men, women, Pyro… it doesn’t matter. I’m not afraid to admit I was wrong, or that I’m sorry, and I’ll try not to say anything stupid like that again…”

“Nah I’m just a bit sensitive because-…” Scout tries, but Soldier interrupts.

“Son, if I have learned anything about people, and especially people with your monthly concern, it’s that they’re never oversensitive about things. They just put up with a tonne of shit until they’re too stressed out, too upset or in just far too much discomfort to play polite… never apologise for being real.” Soldier said, as if it was a throwaway statement and not the most epiphany-like moment Scout had ever experienced up until then. 

“Heh, thanks man.” Scout responds. Then lets out a shout of surprise as Soldier tosses him over his shoulder, “What the hell?”

“Doc was back by Engie, last I saw… one of them should have something to take the edge off… get you back in fighting form and all.” Soldier responds, oddly considerate. 

Scout lets out a startled yelp as they rocket jump off the platform, he’d always wanted to try it but not from this angle!

They do find Engie, and his dispenser provides some relief until the man can fish a small packet of panadol out of his toolkit. He doesn’t ask why, he’s laid back like that. 

Scout is honestly relieved at how this ended up such a non-event.

-

Some of the others have noticed Scout doesn’t shower with them, but have made their own assumptions (he’s young, it might be weird to shower with all these big, muscly older dudes). Scout’s honestly surprised Spy hasn’t used that in a big reveal, yet… but he senses the other is waiting for something. 

Scout still flirts with Miss P when she comes on base, because she’s beautiful and he does still kinda love her, but there’s also a degree of thrill to having her turn him down because ‘she’s not into boys’. She’s known from the start, and never once misgendered him… never leaves him without anything he needs, either. Last time, he even found a large box of his favourite chocolate in there amongst the items, and he had a feeling that was her doing too…

God she needed more than one day off a year, even if Scout only took her out as a friend… she was too damn good to them all. 

Demo did mention in passing that Scout had a nice body and if he was concerned about not measuring up to the others in the shower, then he didn’t need to worry, this wasn’t high school. No one pulled ye olde point and laugh here. Soldier had jumped in and gone off on a tangent about cleanliness in the ranks, and how privates should wash theirs whenever, and wherever possible. Which derailed the conversation a bit, though Scout could see the cogs whirring in Demo’s mind. Afterwards, when they had a quiet moment, Demo approached in a casual way; out of earshot of the others, to speak with him.“Lad... like I said before, it disnae matter what ye do or don’t have... you can always shower with the rest of the team, and no one’ll gawk. Pyro showers in their suit and it was only a bit odd the first time. But I’m sensing that the reason has to do with someone on the team, and ye should know I’m always ready to throw a punch for ye, lad, never forget it. Just say the word.” He winks. Or, Scout assumes it was, considering...“Thanks, man. Maybe... soon. I just-... I mean, I trust like, alla ya except Spy but only a few people either know or have worked it out. Not that I think Pyro’d care, or Engie... pretty sure Snipes knows, Medic, Soldier, Heavy probably worked it out, and now you seem to...” Scout trails off.

“...so Spy’s the blaggard, is he?” Demo’s voice was a little colder.

“Well yeah, but it’s... more than that.” Scout adds, shoulders slumping, “First thing he said was... well he kinda called me his daughter and used the wrong name’n’all. When I called Ma about it, ‘cause it freaked me out, she kinda mentioned he’s my dad...”

“Well, fuck, laddie. I’m going to get some of the hard stuff, and we can bag him out until we pass out, aye?” Demo offers, beaming.

“Sounds like a plan to me...” Scout answers, following as the Scot led the way.

Medic was too busy laughing at the hungover pair to do anything useful, for at least half an hour; because apparently they serenaded the Doc, whilst inebriated, in violently clashing accents and utterly out of tune. Heavy had had to carry them to bed.

Neither merc would let them forget it for years to come.

-

Everything just sort of clicked into place, really.

It was like home, with his Ma and brothers... except with more murder and death on a daily basis. Also, better cooking. Scout cannot emphasise that enough. Engie’d even managed to get Scout cooking basic dishes properly... and only the toaster had caught fire that one time. 

Actually, the more Scout interacted with the guy, the more he seemed to realise that Engie had known all along. Especially since the man went out of his way to call him ‘son’, ‘lad’, ‘boy’, and ‘young man’ in every sentence... it was nice. Scout should have twigged earlier, really.

So he stopped taking Spy’s shit, and decided to just confront the guy publicly. Spies didn’t like exposure, but Scouts revelled in it.

“....so emotional, don’t you think that’s a handicap for this line of work?” purrs the Spy, appearing behind Scout at the table. He’s eating cereal and reading a new Flash comic, but he’s not alone; most of the others are lounging across the room by the tv, but all attention is immediately, subtly turned on Spy and Scout. God help the man.

“Funny you should say that, I saw you losin’ ya shit after that Blu poured piss on ya, earlier...” Scout backhands, blandly. Not rising to the bait.

He can sense the man’s lips curling into a scowl of disgust. “Zhat is another matter entirely... I am talking about-...” Spy responds, but Scout interjects.

“Oh I know whatcha talking about, there pal, and if ya don��t fuck off I’ll slap ya silly with a used tampon... see how ya cope emotionally after that, huh?” Scout grins at the revulsion on Spy’s face.

“So vulgar, of course you get zhat from your mother... as daughters often do.” 

Well fuck. Scout slams the spoon down and stands up, getting right up into Spy’s face. 

“Now look, you creepy bastard, the reality of this is ya thought ya had a daughter... but surprise, it’s a fucking boy! Now accept ya have a son, that ya abandoned by the way, or go one annoying the shit outta him about the fact that ya wanted a girl to abandon instead. Either way, he doesn’t fucking care.” 

Spy looked taken aback. 

“Yeah, I said it out loud, surprised? The rest of the team knows, they don’t give a shit as far as I know... you’re the one with the hangup. So maybe just come to terms with your own crap, and when you think you’re human enough, we can try to do the whole dad-son thing, okay?” Scout finishes. He’s tired, of this fight, of this conversation. It had been building for months. 

Spy just stares at him for a long moment, as if he had never seen Scout before this very second... and finally composes himself. “Very well... mon fils.” He has cloaked and left, before Scout can fully register what has happened. 

“Good job laddie!” Demo cries, coming over to clap him on the shoulder. 

Sniper puts his Huntsman down, nodding to the runner as if it was nothing. Pyro hugged Scout, but that may have been unrelated to the whole situation... Pyro just liked to hug. Engie said, “Proud of ya, son.” and left it at that.

The others acknowledged the moment, but didn’t make a fuss.

All in all, it was pretty good.

-

Maybe in time Spy can reconcile.

Maybe not.

But it doesn’t matter as long as the team is on Scout’s side, no matter what. 

Scout... Jeremy... loves being a RED, for precisely that reason.

- - - - - - - - - -

The End.

Headcanons like that?

[valeriianz]

Oliver is renting out his apartment and Connor is a prospective sublet (and a shameless flirt). idk how to summarize.

Bzz bzz.

Oliver popped another apple slice into his mouth, checking his phone.

It was a text from Connor Walsh, a man who'd seen Oliver's ad for a sublet to his apartment. They'd been chatting on and off for about a day now, general questions like, “how does payment work?” or “are pets allowed?” or “what about roof access?” sporadically popping into Oliver's messages.

This time, the message read:

Hey! I know we scheduled to meet tomorrow but I'm off work early and would love to see the apartment now, if you're available.

Oliver looked around his living room, untidy and kind of smelly (his garbage needed to be taken out), before looking down at himself. Draw string sweatpants and a tattered old shirt from college draped over his, thankfully, clean body. Oliver had just got out of the shower.

When could you be here? Oliver replied, he only needed to do some mild cleaning, maybe light a candle... or two.

Idk, 30 minutes at most. I'm getting to my car now.

Oliver nodded to himself.

That should be fine. You still have the address?

Yep! I'll text you when I'm there.

Oliver nodded again, blowing a sigh out from his mouth and standing up, making his way to the kitchen to prepare for a fast cleaning.

He lit a strong scented candle first, setting it on the island before taking out the garbage and recycling, wiping down the counters and tidying his bedroom, fixing the linen on the bed to look picturesque.

It was while he was washing his hands, that Oliver's phone buzzed again, a simple two-word text from Connor lighting up the screen:

I'm here.

Oliver grumbled when he realized he was still in his pajamas but figured whatever, slipping on some shoes and grabbing his keys, shutting the door behind him and taking the stairs down into the lobby.

A man hovered outside the door, hands stuffed into jacket pockets and looking off to the side. Oliver took a steadying inhale, forcing his lips up into a polite smile, and opened the door.

And almost abruptly fell to the floor.

Chocolate brown eyes turned to Oliver, accompanied by a sharp smile that could most definitely pass as a smirk, a corner of his lips pulling up and revealing a tiny bit of teeth.

“Oliver?”

“Uh, yes, Connor?” Oliver nodded, pulling the door open wide and stepping aside to let Connor in.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Connor turned, that smile still in place as he extended a hand to shake.

Oliver let the door fall closed, taking Connor's hand customarily, squeezing hard because it was an unspoken rule, but also because Connor's grip was tight and final, even though he had noticeably smaller hands. He felt embarrassed, letting his hand fall naturally, for increasing his grip just because Connor had a firmer handshake. Oliver was sure the other man felt that, and if that wasn't the silliest thing Oliver had ever done...

Well, it wasn't. Maybe accidentally checking out Connor while they stood in the lobby was the silliest thing Oliver had ever done, because he just did it.

Connor's eyes flashed something mischievous as their gaze met again (after Oliver pulled his eyes up from Connor's shoes, to the seat of his pants, to his neck and stubbled face). Oliver stuttered, walking past Connor quickly, headed for the stairs. Oliver thought he heard a light chuckle behind him.

“Ah, so, the apartment is on the third floor...” Oliver started, leading them up and around corridors.

“I thought I saw an elevator downstairs?” Connor supplied conversationally.

“Yeah well, you know it's just three flights, not much of a work out,” Oliver threw a smile over his shoulder as he rounded another corner. Truthfully, he just didn't want to stand in a small space with this guy, dreading the awkward silence, or Connor pointing out how audaciously Oliver had looked over Connor's body. God, what had he been thinking!

“303,” Oliver nudged his head at the bronze plating on his door before letting them in, returning Connor's infectious smile.

“Wooow,” Connor's eyebrows shot up, looking around. “It's so much better than the pictures.”

“Yeah?” Oliver couldn't help the prideful smile, leaning against a wall as Connor stepped in, observing his home.

“You said everything is staying?”

“Yeah,” Oliver pushed himself off the surface, stepping slowly with Connor. I'll be back by March, just doing a temporary gig.”

“So I could pretend all this décor is my brainchild, and I'm just gay enough to pull it off.”

Oliver laughed lightly. “You should give me some credit, I put my heart and soul into picking out a color pallet.”

Connor snickered too, and Oliver caught himself staring at the young man's profile, how his nose pointed and how sharp his jaw line was, perfectly complimenting that slender neck. Oliver swallowed, wringing his hands out nervously and looking away as Connor turned toward him.

“Anyway,” Oliver shoved his fiddling hands into his pants pockets, pinching the thick material from the inside. “The living room. I have a Playstation, if that interests you, but I mostly use it for Netflix so, you can totally sign in from there if you have an account...”

Connor only nodded, walking to the kitchen with Oliver.

“I like the kitchen,” Connor commented, checking out the appliances and resting his hands on the island. “Lots of counter space.”

Oliver choked on a gasp, coughing into his arm awkwardly. His neck was hot and he averted his eyes from Connor. For some reason, the way Connor said “counter space” was laced with... innuendo, and his eyes narrowed devilishly. As if “counter” was a dirty word... as if he meant to say, “lots of counter space for fucking someone on.”

And Oliver didn't know why he thought that. He could have sworn Connor licked his lips though.

“You alright?” Connor asked, smiling. Yep, he was definitely smiling, showing off brilliant white teeth.

Oliver rubbed his hands over the back of his neck, willing the heat to go away, forcing a smile. “I'm fine...” he huffed, shaking his head and pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Let's look at the bedroom.”

“Where all the action happens?” Connor nearly strutted out of the kitchen, giving Oliver a cheeky smile.

Oliver laughed dryly at that. “Hardly.”

After the bedroom (Connor sitting on Oliver's bed, “testing the comfort”) and bathroom, the grand tour was over quickly, finding both men sitting on the couch facing each other.

“I really like this place,” Connor started, pulling a knee up and holding it in place on the cushion.

Oliver nodded. “I never got to ask you, but why are you looking to sublet?”

“Ah, got an internship, only lasts through winter so it's kind of perfect to only stay here 'til March,” Connor looked down at Oliver's throw pillows, fiddling with a stray thread.

Oliver hummed. “Got any plans to stay in Philly afterwards?”

It was meant to be a simple question, an ice breaker, but Oliver wasn't sure if his tone implied personal interest. He kind of hoped it did.

Connor shrugged, his cocky smile fading for the first time since he arrived and fixing Oliver with honest eyes. “Maybe, if another opportunity arrives.”

“Like what?” Oliver pulled his legs up, crossing them on the couch and facing Connor fully.

Connor's lips parted, like he was about to answer, before laughing it off, looking elsewhere. “I don't know. A job or... a hot guy who could convince me to live a city life.”

Oliver's heart was racing, he hated how caught up he was with this total stranger who was barely into grad school. But something drew him to Connor, maybe charisma or how devastatingly handsome he was, either way Oliver knew he was done for as soon as Connor stepped into the building.

“You like living in the country?”

“Sometimes,” Connor grinned. “But there's no opportunity out there, especially for lawyers, ugh.”

Oliver smiled in humor along with Connor, unaware of the comfortable silence building between them, sitting together on Oliver's couch and smiling at one another. It was when Oliver caught Connor's eyes, for a brief moment-- not even for a half second, flick down, as if considering Oliver's lips, before darting back up and away from his stare, that Oliver figured this had gone on long enough.

“Well, shoot me a text if you're interested and I'll set up the paperwork for you.” Oliver uncrossed his legs, avoiding Connor's eyes and fighting down a blush creeping up his neck again.

Connor dropped the pillow back on the couch, standing up fast. “Sure thing.”

Connor walked with Oliver to the door, where the latter held it open for him. But they hovered instead, feet frozen, bodies wanting to linger, unable to step away from each other from some unknown force.

“I'm like, 95 percent sure I want this place.”

Oliver smiled. “Good, that'll help me sleep at night.”

“Yeah,” Connor added unnecessarily, clapping his hands together.

Oliver's finger's drummed on the door, wondering why he couldn't shut it just yet.

“Um, if you have any other questions or concerns you can think of, please ask. I feel like I missed something.”

“Sure thing,” Connor nodded, finally smiling like a normal person, controlled and friendly. “I'll text you.”

“Okay,” Oliver returned the smile, slowly closing the door on Connor.

With a nod and goodbye, the door finally made it home, the lock clicking into place. Oliver turned, leaning back against the door and sighing loudly, rubbing his eyes underneath the glasses. Jesus, he acted like an imbecile... or a teenage girl. Either would work for this situation. He was pretty sure he hadn't felt so nervous and giddy around a guy since his first semester of college.

Knocking at the door startled Oliver, a small scream hiccuping from his throat.

Oliver laid his hand on his heart, groaning at himself and turning again, door knob in hand, and pulling it open, coming face-to-face with Connor.

Oliver blinked. Connor looked... shy, hopeful, with that underlying confidence tearing free in the way his lips quirked at whatever expression Oliver was wearing (probably pure, unadulterated happiness).

“Hey,” Connor greeted again, like they didn't just see each other 30 seconds ago. “I know this is weird but, I'd actually like to text you about anything, not just apartment stuff...” Connor took a step closer and Oliver could almost smell something woodsy-- earthy, cologne probably. It nearly knocked Oliver off his feet, making him silently beg for Connor to come even closer.

“Maybe, about your day, or your job, or when I could take you out to dinner.”

Oliver's jaw dropped before his lips stretched out into an impossibly wide smile, laughing at himself for having such a reaction to... such a smoothly executed line. Oliver couldn't even remember the last time someone asked him out for dinner.

“Is that a yes?” Connor's smug air was back, daring himself to take another step, inches away from Oliver.

“Yes,” Oliver answered softly, assuredly.

The smile that broke out on Connor's face nearly matched Oliver's, but with less teeth, more playful and victorious.

“May I come back in?”

“You're pushing your luck,” Oliver said instead of dragging Connor in by his jacket collar, which he so wanted to do.

Connor's smile refused to falter, brows narrowing like he didn't believe Oliver for a second. But he stepped off anyway.

“I'll text you, then.”

Oliver nodded. “Good bye, Connor.”

“Bye, Oliver.”

[3one3]

The Sequel - 878

In Sickness

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Ready for some soup?

“I need to pee. I hate getting out of the blanket though. It’s so cold, and my legs don’t work.”

“We’re not doing a bed pan, Prinzessin.”

“Ew.”

“As long as you’re getting up, do you want a clean shirt or something? Can I air out the bed?”

“No! Then it won’t be warm when I get back in. You can get me a shirt though.”

André helped Christina out of her bed-nest and literally turned her body in the direction of the bathroom. She was wobbly, her thighs were bright red, and he could feel the fever radiating from her skin. I should make her take more acetaminophen, he thought on his way to find a fresh tee for her. He flicked on the light in her dressing room and paused in surprise. It was kind of a mess. She hadn’t unpacked her things from the Spain trip, but had ripped some items out of the bags and left laundry all over. The footballer shrugged and stepped around a rolling suitcase to get to the drawer with her around-the-house shirts. I think she’d rather maybe have some hives from too much acetaminophen than have the fever, he continued, acknowledging his wife’s occasional allergic reaction to excessive amounts of the over the counter drug. How about one of these super soft James Perse ones? That should feel nice. Or is she going to be afraid of barfing on it or something? Ehh, she probably isn’t thinking that far ahead. I’ll bring this one. André selected a light gray tee on the basis that light colors feel cleaner than dark ones, and then turned around to look through the drawers on the small island in the middle of the room to find a clean pair of underwear for her too.

Her fancy all black and a little bit white closet was designed to accommodate more clothes, shoes, and accessories than she had when she moved in, so she took advantage of all the extra drawers by spreading things out. She had a drawer full of “sexy” panties- the lacey ones, pairs with little bows, the tiniest thongs, etc. There was a drawer just for the nude thongs and bikini-cut panties she wore under her white breeches, the boyshorts that she preferred for working out, and high-cut styles she liked for riding in when she wore other breeches. Then there was one for all the other underwear, like her cute prints, the vast Calvin Klein cotton collection, stretchy hip-huggers, barely-there mesh, etc. She had three drawers of bras too, split by largely the same criteria. André was aware of the sorting because he once tried to put her laundry away as a nice gesture and quickly found himself overwhelmed. He went for the “everyday” underwear drawer to find some Calvins for her to be sick in, on the basis that he believed those to be her favorite for most things.

“Oops,” he muttered when he heard a picture frame topple over. There was a long, narrow white marble tray in the middle of the island, with a glass cube of fresh cut white flowers, desk-sized photo frames, and a dish of black “galaxy” eads that made the room smell nice. He accidentally hit one of the pictures when he reached up there to put the panties with the shirt while he squatted down to the drawer to try to put everything back where it belonged after he rifled through it carelessly to find what he wanted. I’ll bring her this too, he decided when he stood up to right the shiny chrome frame. A violent and painful sounding coughing fit was starting up in the next room. Maybe she’ll pay more attention to the drugs and food on her nightstand if Dirk is there as well. He took Christina’s selfie with Dirk free-jumping in the background with him. It was the picture Juan gave her as a gift the previous Christmas.

“I’m so cold,” she rasped through all-over shivers as she hurried to get back into bed.

“Hang on. Time to change.” André tossed the photo on the comforter and sat on the edge of the mattress near her spot so she couldn’t just retreat into her nest again. Poor Prinzessin, he thought, noticing how violent the shivering was. When did the doctor say the fever should break? I wonder if we shouldn’t go back to him in the morning if she’s still like this... “You do these; I’ll help with the shirt.”

Christina pushed her black Calvins down and pulled on the proffered red pair, and then reluctantly let her partner lift her clammy shirt off and quickly replace it with the fresh one, shaking all the while. All of her joints felt so tired. Holding her arms up felt like lifting a hay bale onto a stack after unloading 50 of them. André slid down and opened up the sweatshirt-like comforter for her to get back into her spot, and then rubbed vigorously at her arms and legs to help accelerate the warming process.

“The soup is warm. Ready to try?” he asked. The flu victim nodded and folded the blanket down from her chin a little. He stirred the broth and rice around in the oversized mug and then offered her some on the spoon. He knew she could have managed feeding herself, but she just looked so miserable and helpless. Christina slurped from the spoon a handful of times and then quit when he tried to get more rice in her system than the clear, mild broth. The cringe that accompanied each swallow was no put-on. “Where should I put Dirk?”

“Wha?”

“I brought Dirk for you,” the footballer explained while she turned over to get more comfortable and he put the cup of soup on the table. He then showed her the photo and began clearing a space for it where she could look at it whenever she wanted. “Every time you think “Oh it’s time for my medicine but I don’t want to take it because it hurts,” you’ll see him and realize the sooner you take it and get better, the sooner you can go get kisses from him, yeah?”

“You’re sweet,” his girl smiled on her pillow. She already had Lukas the baby zebra tucked up under her chin.

“Not really. I’m about to make you sit up again to take the pills and the cough syrup.”

“It’s not time yet. Another hour.”

“Fine.”

“Stay?”

“I told you I will.”

“Pants off.”

“Obviously.” André smiled back and then kissed two fingers to touch to her forehead. She wasn’t getting any real kisses. There was no room in his recovery program to get sick. He was even keeping his own pillows on the couch by the window so that the invalid in his bed couldn’t drool or sneeze on them, so he brought those over to use after discarding his jeans. It surprised him and threatened his hope to remain germ-free when his girl rolled over and snuggled into him as soon as he lay down. Christina put her head on his shoulder and arm, and wedged her ice cold feet between his legs.

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbled as she clung on and nuzzled her cheek on his shirt.

“You should have told me sooner that you wanted some company, pretty girl.” I thought she wanted to be left alone to suffer in peace. “What are we watching?”

“Murder She Wrote, season 39.”

“Are you warm now?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna be sweating again soon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you’ll make it? Or should we start digging a hole for you in Dirk’s field?”

“I dunno.”

“Marco sends his best. He was disappointed about cancelling Marco and Chris time, and wants a rain check. He’s like really obsessed with getting you eccentric shoes.”

“Tell me everything about your training, ‘til I fall asleep.”

“’Til what? I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You sound like a very quiet forest troll right now.”

Christina wanted to ask how he knew what a forest troll sounds like, but talking hurt. And the whole point of asking him to talk to her was so that she could keep quiet and reap the benefits of having him near and having his familiar voice to distract her from the runny and stuffy nose, the headache, the periodic coughing fits, the upset tummy, and the inability to find a comfortable body temperature. Being sick was lonely, and boring, and a self-feeding problem. Her symptoms were stressing her out and making it impossible to rest and get better. It had been a long time since the rider had a nasty flu, so it was extra hard on her. Being really sick seemed almost fun when she was a kid, and it meant staying home from school, watching The Price Is Right, having her mom around to bring or make her anything she wanted, cats to nap with her, and a youthful immune system ready to fight back against the bug while she just enjoyed days off. Being sick as a grown up with responsibilities just sucked. There was no novelty factor whatsoever. Getting her favorite blonde pillow to stay with her was the first non-terrible thing about it.

His very presence was supposed to help. All the sweet and caring texts from Juan in the world weren’t going to make her feel physically better, and that was the primary problem for him with their long-distance/double-life arrangement. That was the first time she fully got to experience the thing he complained about all the time- about his partner not being right there. But she knew she had André, and that he’d be home from training eventually, and then he’d come back from the grocery store, and he’d be back again after dinner. He’d always be around when she needed him, and on top of all the crummy side effects of the flu, Christina was stressed about how crummy the Spaniard had it all the time when he knew she wasn’t going to be around. Being sick and desperately wanting someone to make her feel better, and only having his texts, was one of the most elaborate illustrations of his problem that she’d experienced to date.

“’Til I fall asleep,” she repeated with as much oomph as she could get from her raw throat and expired vocal chords.

“You have to stay up long enough to have your medicine, but okay.”

André rubbed her back and her butt and gave the full tick-tock of every single thing he was doing each day at Brackel to try to improve his strength and fitness and be ready to train with the team after the international break. He thought the details were mostly boring, but explaining them was actually kind of satisfying. It gave him a chance to reiterate the arguments for and against certain things made by the coaches and doctors and physios, and that in turn fortified his belief in what he was doing. It was also a nice experience to be able to tell Christina all about something without having her backchat. She didn’t butt in to question anything, to play devil’s advocate, or to drag him off on tangents. She didn’t even really care what he said, and she fell asleep sometime before the hour passed. The BVB man was watching the time on his phone so that he’d know when to stop talking and get her to take the medications she was due for, but then the time came and he realized the sniffly, boiling little creature hanging on him was making a rhythmic hissing sound because she was sleeping and her mouth was open so that she could still breathe. He didn’t have the heart to wake her.

Espen tiptoed in a while later to say that Lukas was tucked in and she was headed home. She also delivered Lukas’ get well card. It was a picture of a gray blob with a trunk and tusks, and a red blob with a bunch of little legs. André decided they were an elephant and a crab, respectively. The second blob also could have been a spider, but the color pushed him toward crab. There was also a red heart with “Mom” inside spelled out in letter stickers. He decided to wake Christina to show her the drawing and get her to take the pills and cough syrup.

She adored the card, but not the drugs or the cold soup he persuaded her to eat. Both the drugs and the soup came back up not too long after going down. She had rice coming out of her nose along with rivers of greenish-yellow snot. She was crying because it was so unpleasant, and because her throat hurt so much. There was a good 10 minutes of dry heaving even after the meager contents of her stomach were ejected, and that just worsened the cold sweat. Her body was covered in it. André tried to wipe her of with a damp washcloth after she cleaned up her face, and got her another shirt to wear. The patient was furious with him for making her eat in the first place, but then still curled up on him to continue her progress toward death once she was clean and dry again. He texted his personal trainer to ask if they could bump his first session at Brackel back a couple of hours so that he could take her back to the doctor in the morning, convinced that there must have been some kind of prescription-strength remedies for her symptoms, or some more tests to do that would change the diagnosis, because he was sure she should have been getting better by then.

Christina obviously didn’t want to go see her new doctor again come morning, and she protested a little while her husband called the office to see if she could be seen. Her misery was overwhelming enough that she agreed to go though. Her temperature wasn’t going down and that concerned her. She wanted to feel better, even if it meant a terrible car ride. André put her in head to toe adidas sweats, gave her a blanket, a barf bag, and a box of tissues for the car, and sprayed some bathroom air freshener at her to try to cover up the unpleasant odors of her dirty hair and un-brushed teeth.

“My tummy is sooooooo barren,” the stricken rider moaned to him while they waited in the office to see her physician. She had her blanket with her, and bunched it up on his shoulder to use like a pillow. Her nose was red and peeling. Her neck was sweaty inside her hoodie, her hands were inside her sleeves to keep them warm, and her lips were slightly stained from the cherry flavored throat lozenge she took from a bowl on the receptionist’s desk. The Dortmund forward flipped through a magazine and tried not to think about how gross she was. “It’s gone from sunken in like a starving child to bloated and ballooning like...a starving child.”

“You’re bloated from the salt in the sports drink, probably. That’s all you’ve had for two and a half days,” he replied absently.

“Oh.”

“Are you warm enough right now?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks for being nice to me while I’m dying,” Christina sighed.

“In sickness and in health, pretty girl. In sickness and health.” I still want another R8, he thought, attention on an Audi ad in the magazine. We should sell hers now that she has the Ferrari. It’s old and things keep needing replacing anyway.

“Yeah but you’re not always nice to me when I’m sick in other ways, so...thank you for being nice. And taking care of me. And risking my plague.”

“I’m always nice to you and I always take care of you when you let me see that you’re sick. I can’t do it if you don’t show me. I don’t know the difference between sick and angry when I don’t see you.”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

“Welcome.”

[daddys-tinylittle-kitten-blog]

Apprentices (two)

A/N Here is part two! i am going to switch pov in each part between the three main characters Athena, Kaelin, and Lilly. Enjoy!!!!

*Kaelin’s POV*

I sat in the lounge with my father, Peter, and Tony waiting for everyone else to return apparently Tony had a “big surprise” for all of us, most of his surprises were stupid and if it wasn’t for Lilly I would’ve already been back at asgard. I liked this midgardian, she had spunk, rare in mortals, I rested my head on my father’s shoulder waiting. Most people wouldn’t think of Loki as a good father, but he was actually pretty good, aside from his trying to take over midgard. I never really like them, but I had missed my dad all those years, Thor was a good uncle, but he acted more like a brother to me. Those years when my father was locked away I saw some drastic changes in him, he began to act more mature and became more introverted, my father and uncle never got along well and still don’t. The only thing that keeps them from killing each other is me, they both know I need them both and i couldn’t live without them, i was happy to be the thing that kept them from murder. Everyone slowly filled in and Tony stood up excitedly

“What I’ve wanted to tell you, for the kids who are new to New York, which is most of you, you are all being enrolled in the same school!” My eyes widened, my face contorted with anger

“Jeg går ikke til en midgardisk skole!” I stood up and teleported to my room in a flash of green light.

“Kaelin” the voice of my father said sternly

“Yes” i said clenching my jaw

“This is for the best-”

“For the best! Really! I can’t stand the midgardians, they are so, so” i searched for a word “incompetent” I finally decided. He nodded

“I couldn’t agree more, but since we will be here for a while you need to learn more about midgard” I rolled my eyes

“Surely the midgardian adults wouldn’t allow a monster into the school” he knit his eyebrows, confused

“What do you mean, princess?”

“Don’t play dumb, you very well know what I- we are.” Recognition flooded his face, he sat down next to me on the bed

“I felt the same way when I was your age, do you know what got me to stop thinking that way?” I glared at him

“What?”

“Your mother” he whispered softly, I knit my eyebrows, he never talked about mother, who had died shortly after i was born. I shifted so I could see him, he was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, I scooted over and sat next to him

“What was mother like?” I asked, the question I never had the courage to ask, until now. He blinked tears out of his eyes

“She was gentle, graceful, and beautiful, like you are, you have her red hair and her smile” it was my turn to blink tears from my eyes, I hugged my father, neither of us were big on physical contact, but now seemed like the right time

“She would be so proud of you, princess” i smiled through the tears burying my face in his shirt

“Do i still have to go to the midgardian school?” he sighed

“Yes, but remember, that one girl you liked? That you became friends with” i nodded “you will be going to the same school as her, princess”

“Maybe it won’t be too bad.” I sat back a bit and wiped away my tears “i’m sorry father”

“It’s okay, princess, you’ve taken this news much better than i would’ve” I laughed

“You’re right, if it was you someone would be in the medical bay” he smiled and nodded. He took my hand

“Are you ready to go back out?”

“Do i have to? Can’t i just wait until dinner?” he sighed again

“Of course”

Dinner time rolled around and so i changed, since I changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt earlier, I put on a grey shirt that had a snake on it, next to the snake it said ‘Loki made me do it.’ I had a lot of Loki themed clothes, both my father and I found it humorous for me to wear them, i threw on a pair of black leggings and walked outside, not bothering with shoes. I went up the elevator to the adults floor, where we would all eat if we ate together and took my seat next to my father

“The snake finally leaves its nest” Tony said sarcastically

“This snake may come to strike, Anthony” i said with venom, he looked taken aback at the use of his given name

“Rolig ned Kaelin” Loki said looking at me sternly

“Jeg er rolig” i muttered, crossing my arms, we often spoke to each other in norwegian, it was calming and reminded us both of home.

“Could you both please speak in english?” Tony said exasperated

“No” we both replied at the same time

“You will not get anything from my brother and niece, brother Anthony, i have been trying all their lives” Thor said from across the table. Pepper came in, carrying the last of the food, we passed it around and began to eat, Athena looked very uncomfortable, I wondered why. We all made small talk, once i finished eating i got up and left, like i normally did, going to my room and laying down on the bed. I grabbed my phone and put my headphones in, one of the only things I liked about midgard was its music, i chose the song ‘Monster’ by imagine dragons, I saw myself in this song as it played i smiled to myself. I looked at my hand and changed into my true form, as a frost jotun, my skin turned blue and my eyes blood red, my skin was cold, no freezing, frost crept onto the comforter beneath me. Suddenly the door opened, i yelped in surprise and hid on the other side of the bed

“W-who is it?”

“Lilly, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you” my breathing steadied and I turned back to my other self then stood up. She looked at me confused

“I’m fine, what did you need?”

“I was just bored, they said we had a few hours until curfew, when we have to get in bed, so I wanted to see you” she looked at my bed “Why is your bed covered in frost?” I clenched my jaw, knot wanting to tell her the truth

“Don’t worry about it, mortal” i spoke the last word with venom. She looked at me, angered by my words

“Mortal? You say that as if you aren’t”

“I’m not” i replied matter-of-factly “I am asgardian” she knitted her eyebrows

“Does that make you a goddess? Or am I understanding this wrong” i flinched at the word goddess, I would’ve been, had my father truly been a god as everyone else believed. I swallowed thinking of the right response, lying was easy for me, given my father being the ‘god’ of lies

“Sort of, it’s difficult to explain” she rolled her eyes

“So you aren’t a goddess and you’re afraid to admit it”

“What?! I am insulted you would even think that” I narrowed my eyes, and she raised an eyebrow

“Then you are a goddess.” I groaned

“Just leave me be” I wanted to flop down onto the bed, but i couldn’t risk accidentally turning back at the touch of ice. She turned and left, then i was able to flop down onto my bed, face first burying my face in the pillow

“Dumme dødelige” i felt myself turning back to my jotun form

“I agree” said a voice, i screamed and fell again

“hvem er der?” i shouted, panicked

“Princess, it’s me, calm down” i let out a sigh of relief, it was my father

“Gods, you scared the dritt out of me” he laughed lightly

“And apparently into your jotun form” i winced

“Yeah” i looked down

“It’s who you are, don’t be ashamed”

“You’re one to talk” he smiled

“I didn’t say all the time” i rolled my eyes then sat back down on the bed

“Whats up?” I asked looking at his face

“Just wanted to remind you to get a good night's sleep”

“Why?” i asked, confused

“Because tomorrow is your first day at the Midtown school of Science and Technology” i groaned and rolled over

“drepe meg nå.” He laughed

“No, i don’t think i will” i rolled over and glared at him

“Skru deg du” he chuckled

“Goodnight princess”

“Night dad”

A/N hope you enjoyed, part three will come out shortly

[paigenotblank]

Accidentally Ours (3/7)

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Rose Tyler

Rating: Teen

Written for a prompt for Ten x Rose kid fic/family fic where they adopt kids left orphans that they meet on their travels / and also a prompt for Ten x Rose with a mix of adopted and biological kids (@tinyconfusion​). Tagging @doctorroseprompts​ and @timepetalscollective​ which I think both had those prompts.

Trope: Accidental Baby Acquisition

Warnings: Kid Fic/ Baby Fic/ Pregnancy Fic

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

AO3 / TS

Jackie had just finished setting the table when she heard the sound of the TARDIS materializing in Rose’s old bedroom. The Doctor stepped into the lounge carrying Melody against his chest and Rose was laughing at something that he’d said.

Jackie’s breath caught. She had never seen her daughter so happy and it was all thanks to that daft alien and the little girl he’d brought into their lives. Jackie could only pray that when they had to give the little girl back, the Doctor would help Rose get through it. And maybe one day, they’d have one of their own.

Rose waved and headed for the kitchen. “Hey, Mum. I’ll be right back.” She threw a grin over her shoulder and winked at the Doctor. His eyes softened and Jackie could see his love for Rose plain as day. She suspected she was worrying for nothing. If there is one thing she trusted, it was that the Doctor would always take care of Rose. She wiped at her eyes and plastered on her own smile. She cooed at Melody. “Oh, look how big she’s got. How old is she now?”

The Doctor lifted little Melody out of the carrier and handed her to Jackie. “17 weeks, 4 days, and completely brilliant. I'm sure she’ll be an early talker. She’s quite the babbler, she is.”

Jackie snorted. “Gets that from you.”

“Jackie…” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Just meant that babies mimic an’ if she’s babbling up a storm, it's because she’s imitatin’ you, ya plum. You could talk for England you could.”

“Oh, right.” The smile that broke out over the Doctor’s face tugged at Jackie’s heart. “Suppose she is.”

“Still callin’ you ‘Not-Mum?’”

He released a weary sigh. “Yeah. I think she’s doing it on purpose at this point.”

Jackie kissed Melody’s cheek. “Speakin’ of, where’d your mummy get to? Rose!”

Rose came out of the kitchen with three mugs of tea. “Sorry, Mum.” She pecked her mother on the cheek. “I made us cuppas.” Rose put the tea down on the coffee table and went to take the baby from Jackie. “Time for her feeding.”

Jackie held Melody tighter. “Oh, let me, Rose.”

Rose pulled a baby bottle out of the Doctor’s coat pocket. He warmed it up with the sonic and handed it to Jackie. “All yours.”

Rose picked up two of the mugs and handed one to the Doctor. He opened his arm to her and she snuggled into his side resting her head on his shoulder.

Jackie glanced at the two of them. “So you two got yourselves sorted then?”

“Mum!” “Yup!”

Rose looked at the Doctor in surprise, but it turned quickly to joy, and she nodded at her mum. “Yeah. We’re takin’ it slow, but...we’re officially together now.” Jackie noticed Rose’s light blush immediately.

“Well, if you two ever want a date night, I’m more than happy to watched her for you.”

Rose sat up. “What?”

“You heard me. I bet you two haven’t spent any time together, just the two of you.”

The Doctor tugged his ear. “Well, not…I mean when Melody’s napping or sleeping, but-”

“It’s the key to a healthy relationship.”

“When did you turn into ‘Ask Irma?’”

“Oh, hush. Bev’s got a subscription to Glamour. But it’s true. I remember what it was like, bein’ in a new relationship.”

The Doctor snorted. “What all of last year?”

Jackie narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

Rose swatted his chest. “Doctor! Rude.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Jackie. How is Howard?”

“Still asking about his dressing gown.”

“Oh, erm, I’ll buy him a new one.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Nah. Was just kidding. I’m not seeing Howard anymore.”

Rose sat up in surprise. “Mum, you never said anything. What happened?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just one of those things.”

“Are-”

“Would you look at that? There’s still an hour ‘til dinner’s ready.” Jackie stood with the baby and began rubbing her back. “Why don’t the two of you go off on that date now?”

Rose looked at her mother in concern. “Now?”

“This little one’ll be ready for a nap soon and I don’t need that…” She nodded in the Doctor’s direction. “...one underfoot while I try an’ get everything on the table. You just make sure you get back in time. One hour, not next year.”

The Doctor whined, “It was one time.”

“All I’m saying is there better not be a second time.”

“There won’t be, Jackie.”

“Good.” Jackie nodded and Rose stared at her mother with her mouth hanging open. Jackie’s eyes narrowed at her daughter. “What?”

Rose shrugged. “Nothin’ just didn’t think you’d be that quick to believe ‘im is all.”

“Well, the last couple of months he’s been spot on in getting you here exactly when you said. An’ besides you’re the one that said it was the ship more ‘an anything. Would that crazy box do that to you two or Mel?”

“No. She wouldn’t.” She looked at the Doctor in anticipation and bit her lip. “You really want us to go now? It wasn’t just to stop me from prying about-”

Jackie sighed. “Just get back by dinner before I change my mind.”

“Thanks Mum!“ Rose hugged her mother and then rushed toward the TARDIS dragging the Doctor behind her.

--

The Doctor tapped his sock covered foot on the thin bench and let out a weary sigh. He shifted but his shackled wrist didn’t allow for too much movement. He pulled his knee closer and once again thought about all the ways he’d mucked up his and Rose’s first date. Okay, well, maybe it wasn’t their first date, since he’d been pretty much wooing her since they’d met. First official date as a proper couple. Well. It wasn’t even that as they’d been tons of places with Melody these past few months. First official date as a proper couple without a 17-week old chaperone. There. That’s what he’d ruined. He’d wanted to impress her and instead-

The slide of his cell door had the Doctor looking over his shoulder. “Rose!”

Rose leaned against the opening with her arms crossed and her lips twitching. She took in his slightly rumpled form. He was shoeless, tieless, coat and jacketless. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and a thick, black-metal band around one of his wrists was tethered to the wall by an equally thick, black-metal chain. “You jus’ had to lick it.”

The Doctor stood up and faced her. He took a step forward. “How’d-” The chain attached to his arm pulled taut and he looked down as if he’d forgotten it was there.

Rose sighed and moved into the cell. She pulled the Doctor’s sonic out of her back pocket and opened the shackles to free him. He picked her up and lifted her off her feet with a big hug. Her laughter had him grinning. “Put me down, ya plum, we’ve gotta go.”

“But how?” The Doctor glanced nervously toward the corridor where he could just now see a guard standing sentinel.

“I negotiated your release.” Rose pointed down and wiggled her toes - her toes which he could see moving, because she also had shoeless feet.

“What? Where’re your shoes?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Luckily on this planet rubber soles are a hot commodity. Between mine and yours, I-”

He squeaked, “My chucks?”

“Like you don’t have 37 pairs of ‘em in all different colors sittin’ in the wardrobe room, 12 of which are identical to the ones I used to get you released. From prison.”

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck “Right, yes, of course, molto bene.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you. Really.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his crooked little grin. She laced their fingers together and led him from the cell. “At least I was able to get your coat and jacket back.”

The Doctor noticed them folded up in the guard’s arms and he grabbed his coat excitedly. “Top banana!” He shook it out and slipped his arms into it. “I love this coat. Did I ever tell you Janis Joplin gave me this coat?” The Doctor swung his arm over Rose’s shoulder and pulled her close. She shook her head and took his jacket from the guard as the Doctor started leading her down the hallway and out of the building. “It was 1969 in a tiny little town in upstate New York. White Lake, I think. Janis was organizing a game of poker in the lobby of a little ramshackle hotel and they needed another player.”

“An’ what were you doin’ in at a hotel in White Lake, New York?”

“Woodstock! I, er, just landed a few miles off course is all.”

Rose snorted. “That sounds about right.”

“Oi!”

“So poker…” Rose smiled with a hint of tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. His eyes zeroed in on it.

The Doctor blinked a few times. “Huh?”

Rose cuddled into the Doctor’s side. “You were tellin’ me about how you got your coat.”

“Oh! Right. So, the TARDIS got the coordinates a little wrong for-”

“The TARDIS, huh?”

“The TARDIS got the coordinates wrong for Woodstock and I walked into this hotel where I could hear music playing. On a long couch in reception were three blokes playing guitars.” The Doctor rubbed his chin. “Not sure were Neil Young was.”

“Neil Young?”

“Hmm? Oh, he’d joined the band by then, but I only saw David, Stephen, and Graham.” At Rose’s blank look he added, “Crosby, Stills, and Nash.”

“Crosby, Stills, and Nash were playing a live concert at the hotel where you played poker with Janis Joplin?”

“Well, they weren’t performing so much as...practicing, or, er, jamming. Grooving?”

She laughed. “Only you, Doctor.”

“Anyway, in I walk and immediately Janis asks if I know how to play poker. I mean can you imagine, me not knowing how to-”

“Doctor.”

“So I join the game, but she looks at me and tells me she wasn’t drunk enough to deal with my outfit.”

“Your outfit?”

“It was my sixth incarnation and my style was a little...erm, brighter, shall we say?”

Rose slowed, the Doctor could almost see the wheels of her mind turning as she made connections, and then she bent over laughing. “The...the patchwork jacket...in the wardrobe room! You were wearing that weren’t you?”

The Doctor crossed his arms and pouted. “It’s not that funny.”

Rose wiped tears from her eyes. “She made you cover up didn’t she?”

The Doctor nodded once. And Rose broke out into giggles again.

“Rose!”

“Sorry. Sorry, but-”

“Her guitarist, nice bloke, Sam something or other, gave Janis his coat and she made me put it on. Told me to keep it.”

Rose rubbed the Doctor’s arm and they continued on to the TARDIS. “Well, I’m glad she did. It’s a great coat.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.”

The walked in silence until they finally made it back to the timeship. “Let’s go back to Mum’s. I’m starving.”

“I feel terrible for ruining our date. Chips and try again?”

“Sure. Sounds great.”

The Doctor kissed Rose soundly and then dashed to the console and danced around it, taking them into the vortex.

--

Rose and the Doctor meandered through sandstone arches and towering columns while munching on the hot, salty chips they’d picked up from their favorite chippy in the universe - the one right down the road from Jackie’s flat. He’d had to take them to 1974 so as not to run into her accidentally before enacting the rest of their date do-over.

They were happy to walk in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence, and looking up at the soaring rock formations all around them.

The Doctor happily popped a greasy, fried potato into his mouth. “How’s this for a redo?”

Rose’s gaze narrowed in on the large, stingray-like creatures flying through the air above them. “You sure we’re not gonna have to make a run for it?”

“Nah, they’re not interested in us. They only eat bugs. Well, I say ‘bugs,’ but I really mean…,” the Doctor trailed off as he looked at Rose, distracted by the play of yellow, orange, and pink light over her face. It took his breath away, how stunning she was, eclipsing even the sunset that had just begun painting the sky. Really that was the reason he’d brought her here - known to have the most beautiful sunsets in the galaxy - and yet it paled in comparison to her.

Rose stopped and, seeing him slack-jawed, waited. “Bugs,” she prompted.

The Doctor snagged the last chip and took the empty paper cone from Rose’s hand, crumpling it and shoving it into his pocket.

“Oi!”

He rested his hands on her shoulders and peered intently into her eyes. “You know I love you, right?”

Her eyes grew round and she opened her mouth to answer, but the words were stuck in her throat.

“Rose?”

“Y-yeah, I know. I mean, you show me in so many ways. Everyday. It’s just sometimes I’d convinced myself- But I did...do know. Have to say...it’s incredibly nice to hear, though.”

“I love you,” and with that pronouncement, he gently cupped the back of her head and slowly lowered his lips to hers. She sighed into his mouth. After a few moments he pulled away and confessed, “Have done for a long time.”

She blinked at him a few times. “I love you, too.” A soft smile spread over her lips. “I have since about, oh, ‘forget me, Rose Tyler,’” she imitated his old accent.

“What?”

Her smile widened. “You know how to make an impression on a girl.”

“But you turned me down, the first time I asked you to come with me.”

“Not because I didn’t want to. I was just afraid by how much I did want to. I regretted saying, ‘no,’ immediately. Why do you think I ran to the TARDIS when you got back? I was so worried you’d disappear again.”

“I...I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. No regrets. You did come with me, and that’s the important thing.” He took her hand and started walking back toward the TARDIS. “I never dreamed...after the war, I just never dreamed…”

She squeezed his hand. Just minutes ago, she’d felt so tiny walking in the shadows of the lofty cliffs that made up the majority of the planet’s surface, but with the Doctor’s love in her heart, she felt like she could soar among the gliding giants in the sky.

They stopped near the TARDIS and watched the last rays of the sun before it dropped below the horizon. He pushed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He exuded an air of nonchalance, but Rose knew him better than that. She watched as as he opened his mouth to ask her a question, but paused to take a deep breath. She affected the same casualness, and waited. She didn’t need to wait long.

“How long are you going to stay with me?”

Rose glanced at him and when he swung his head to look at her, she smiled and replied, “Forever.”

His answering grin had her blushing. She pulled his hand from his pocket and entwined their fingers, running her thumb along his.

“Then I’ll love you forever and a day.” He pulled her to his side and kissed her crown.

The Doctor abruptly released her and pulled her into the TARDIS.

Rose leaned back against the doors and watched as he frenziedly spun around the console to put them into the vortex.

Rose pushed off the door and sauntered up to the Doctor. He quirked his eyebrow at her.

She just smiled and ran her hand down his tie.

“I just vowed to stay with you forever.”

The Doctor swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah.”

Rose lifted her hand to the back of his neck and played with the short hairs at his nape. “And you vowed to love me for just as long.”

His lips twitched. “I did. I will.”

“Yeah?”

He pulled her body closer to his. “Are...are those the vows you wanted to hear?” He could see the hope in her eyes and feel her single human heart pounding against his chest. “Because I do, Rose. I. Do.”

Rose took a shaky breath. “Y-you know what we do on Earth after vows like that?”

“What?”

“Seal it with a kiss.” She was pulling him down before she even finished her sentence.

As soon as their lips met, there was a burst of passion and a flurry of hands pulling at clothes. They stumbled out of the control room and the Doctor thanked the TARDIS for moving his room to right off the corridor. He pushed Rose against the door as he fumbled with the handle. Her hands were everywhere, distracting him. Weren’t humans supposed to only have two? She managed to pull off his tie, unbutton his oxford, unzip his trousers and have him in hand in the blink of an eye.

He panted into her shoulder. What good was a respiratory bypass if it doesn’t kick in when he needs it? He moved one hand to her breast - the other was still trying to get the door open - and nibbled her neck. Finally, the door swung open and he grabbed Rose before she could tumble backwards. He swept her into his arms and kicked the door closed behind them.

It was quite some time before they made it back to Jackie’s.

--

Jackie looked Rose and the Doctor up and down when they got back to the flat and shook her head.

The Doctor glanced at Rose and then back to Jackie. “What? We made it back on time. Didn't we?”

Jackie snorted. “Jus’ thought the two of you’d go out on a proper date somewhere like a movie or a museum. I shoulda figured.”

Rose glanced from her mum to the Doctor and back again. “We did go on a date.”

Jackie snorted. The Doctor glared at her. “Who’s to say we didn’t?”

Jackie raised her eyebrow at her daughter.

“We did!”

“That why himself is wearin’ a different shirt and tie?”

“What? I...it's...we could've come across a jxploric spitting Helipontu and that’s why I needed to change.” The Doctor crossed his arms.

Jackie handed Melody off to the Doctor. “Mmhmm. An’ is that how Rose got a hickey too?”

Rose gasped and grabbed her neck while the Doctor sputtered, both of them blushing furiously.

“Hope you built up an appetite, dinner’s ready.”

--

After dinner, Jackie walked with the Doctor, Rose, and Melody back to Rose’s old room where the TARDIS was parked. “Oh! I forgot. Look at what we practiced.” She got Melody’s attention from her place in the Doctor’s arms. She pointed at Rose. “Who’s that?”

The baby gurgled happily, and the Doctor smiled. “Mummy. Very good Melly Belly.” He looked at Jackie. “She’s been calling Rose, ‘Mum,’ since the beginning.”

“Jus’ wait.” She pointed to herself. “And what’s my name?”

Melody babbled. The Doctor translated, “Nan. Well done, sweetheart.”

Jackie tapped the Doctor’s sleeve. “And who’s this?”

Melody giggled and the Doctor’s smile tightened. “Not-Mum.” She giggled again and the Doctor looked at Jackie in shock. “Dada. She said, ‘Dada!’”

The Doctor whooped and lifted Melody in the air. She squealed in delight and when he brought her back down, he gave her big, exaggerated kisses all over her face causing her to belly laugh.

The Doctor asked Jackie, “How?”

“I had a nice little chat with our girl.”

“But how’d you know she would? You don’t speak baby.”

Jackie’s only response was a smug grin.

He impulsively wrapped Jackie in a one armed hug, Melody babbling between them, and whispered, “Thank you.”

When he pulled away, he had glassy eyes, but the brightest smile she’d ever seen on him.

Rose was fighting her own tears. And so was Jackie, truth be told.

“I expect to see you three back here next Sunday.”

Rose kissed her mum on the cheek. “Of course.”

The Doctor walked his little family into the TARDIS and Jackie stood watching until it faded away.