Tumgik
#When i dusted my brothers filthy room i was like doing this in sections over a few days would probably be best
jessiesjaded · 10 months
Text
I will say being someone who is almost incapable of doing things in increments is so genuinely draining, like my brain just obsesses and when it's stuck on something I need to do that /Right Now/ or I'm just plainly not going to do it
2 notes · View notes
Text
My Brothers, Corrupted
Chapter 2 : Section 2 : Bite Back
Dap, Red, and Blue are headed home after pulling off a robbery with complications. Dapper’s decision to rewind will likely lead to conflict at home. But home, as we’ll see, has enough conflict already, and some of our boys have had just about enough of Anti’s torment and humiliations.
Trigger warnings for major abuse, ableism, choking and beating, and discussion of an off-screen suicide attempt.
Find Chapter One here.
Find Chapter Two here.
 Part Two of Chapter Two: Bite Back
cest-mellow asked: what if you say like, an animal started pawing the bag so you turned it back to get the gross off? anti isn’t fond of animals, maybe that ??
“Hm,” Dapper blinks at you, considering. “Maybe something like that. He sure doesn’t - ”
“Hey,” Blue cuts him off, flashing you a warning glare. “Honey, just tell him the truth, you’re only ever going to get in more trouble when he finds out you lied. You know he can see these signals if he wants to, right? What happened, anyway, Dap?”
Dapper pauses, staring up at his big brother.
Blue’s been good to him. Blue’s always as good as he can be to his brothers. That makes him unique to Dapper - he’s the only person he knows who’s never abused him.
“I’ll explain when we get there,” says Dapper, and even he isn’t sure, in that moment, if he is lying or telling the truth. “It was stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“Mmh,” says Blue, dissatisfied. He doesn’t press him, though.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, are you okay with how Anti treats you guys? I mean, he did hurt your little brother...
Blue sighs and leans back lazily against Red’s shoulder.
“Anti has temper problems. I don’t pretend otherwise. But I trust that he’s doing his best and I know that when worst comes to worse, he will protect us with his life. Most of the time, he’s good to us. And the times he loses his temper a little… well, it’s our fault anyway.”
Guilt washes across Blue’s face and he closes his eyes, feeling the bus rattling around him.
“But that’s my job to help him with. That’s my duty, above all else. When Anti is not himself, I am the one who’s best at easing him again. I do what I can to keep us all safe. But I trust Anti. I trust Anti. To the ends of the earth.”
His hand tightens on Dapper’s shoulder, massaging gently at his muscles.
Submission (still doesn’t tell me who from for some reason?):
a cute little fam to brighten your day
 “What is that?” gasps Red, pushing over Blue’s head despite an irritated “owww, Roser!” “A cow? I fucking love it, holy shit.”
“They’re just sending him pictures of animals now,” complains Blue.
“Don’t whine,” giggles Red.
“Anti won’t like it.”
“Fine, fine, sheesh. I can turn that off. But look, Dapper likes it.”
Dapper snorts and rolls his eyes, smiling, nevertheless, at the cute little cows.
“Okay, Red can come with me when I run away to be a dairy farmer, but Blue’s too grumpy.”
“Hell yes!”
“Hey! Little jerk!”
Anonymous asked: Hey, Blueberry Poptart! You know if you guys ever get into a jam again, you might want to be able to speak some Spanish, and I know a little! In fact, there's this awesome Spanish poem that I know. You like *poetry* don't you? Anyway it's by San Juan de la Cruz and it's called "Llama de amor viva" or "Flame of Living Love" in English. I could teach it to you if you want.
“My Spanish is quite good, actually!” chirps Blue, looking up at you. “Anti says I studied languages with my first master. A lot of magic doesn’t translate across languages, so it’s best to learn as much as you can in the original tongue. But hey! I’d love to hear some poetry if you want to send a chunk of it. You never know when you might find a spell curled up in the letters.”
“He’s a nerd for that shit,” comments Red, patting his head.
“And maybe you can teach this dope here some of the language, anyway.”
“Hey!”
Dapper’s listening too, careful. He can’t speak it, but he’d love to get an ear for it.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is it that bad for lil' Dap to be happy, guys? They're harmless pics of animals.
“I told you,” answers Blue, a little warning in his voice. “My job is to keep my little brothers safe. If I think Anti won’t like his work cameras being filled up with pictures of baby cows, it’s better to just get rid of it. Anyway, it’s rare we get this fancy bigger camera, the type that can show pictures here on the side, so it doesn’t matter much.”
“Oh!” Red peers eagerly over his shoulder. “We should take some pictures.”
“What did I just say about clogging up the camera?”
“Aww.” Red slouches down in his seat, kicking his legs up on the one in front of him, but he knows Blue is right.
nikkilbook asked: A bunch of grumpuses, the lot of you.
“Grumpuses,” repeats Red, popping the ‘p.’ “Grump, grump, grump.” He bounces his leg and stares out the window, humming to himself and rocking his head back and forth, like music is playing in his head. “Well, let’s get home and see if our mood improves, huh?”
The bus pulls up about a mile from their home, and Red knows as soon as he stands up that Dap can’t make the walk.
He can’t blame him. Somedays, it is a hard walk even without a stab wound.
Up, up, up the mountain, as dust shifts beneath your feet and rocks slide beneath your shoes. Wild dogs snap and bark, not always from afar, and Red has begun training his brothers to carry a rock with them at all times, and not be afraid to use it. The smell is one of sewage or cooking meat, down here amid the houses, and flies buzz persistently at every face that comes their way. Chickens parade around the streets, and from dark, cool doorways with no doors or coverings, children often watch the strange white men make their way up the mountain, friendly enough, but abnormal. There are others less kind-faced - Red exchanges tight, wary smiles with the men outside the bar drinking in cold silence every single day.
There is one person alone who is securing their place in this slum.
And that is Doktor.
He’s had three patients since he came here. With Blue as his translator and Anti’s approval, he treated each of them in quick, skilled, and absolutely free succession, stitching up a cut hand, wrapping up a bad concussion, and prescribing some medicine for the old man up the hill, living in a box smaller than their living room back in Norway.
Anti’s pleased with him. The local people are beginning to tolerate them. And in this lively, bright, rapid-paced, close-knit, and deeply impoverished little community on the dry side of the mountain, Anti knows that his family is safe.
This is not a place where secrets fly. This is a place where people have learned to protect each other. He will find a way to make sure his boys blend in if Red and Blue have to rob every medical van in the city to do it.
Higher on the mountain, there is a little building, with rooms and doors and old machinery. It was going to be a real medical center once, with government funding and everything, but the project shut down after the governor who made the initial promises was elected. Only dogs and mice lived there when Anti found it. Now his family has replaced them, and no one has yet found them or come to drive them out. He does his best to ensure that they never do.
“Come on, then,” says Red, staring up the mountain. He crouches down low.
“Red,” protests Dap, exhausted. “I don’t want to ride your back.”
“You can’t walk.”
He sighs. True.
“People will stare.”
“We’ll go the side route.”
“The side route is more difficult for you. No stairs built there. Just dirt and uphill climbing.”
“Come on, then,” repeats Red, undaunted. “Come on.”
Dapper wonders, sometimes, if Anti sets up his life to make it more humiliating.
He gets onto Red’s back.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dok, are you making out alright?
In that building high up on the mountain, a camera finally fizzles into life again, and you turn towards the screen fast enough to catch a sight of the good doctor himself, his back to you.
He’s sobbing so hard he can barely breathe. And cooking rice over a rusted oven burner.
Startled by the beeping of the camera, he whirls on you.
A moment later, he is bashful.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Anti was using you again.” His voice is raw. He wipes hastily as his face, splotchy with redness. “I’m fine.”
And he pushes you slightly away, so you can no longer see his face.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: How are you liking being so close with your brothers, Dok? Blue and Red seem to be loving taking care of you guys.
“O-oh.”
You can hear Dok trying to get his breathing back under control, but this, at least, is a gentle question, a distracting question.
“Good, yeah, pretty good.”
His voice is quieter than usual.
“Um, Blue and Red are very happy lately, which is nice. We’d been kind of… down, for a while, so I guess Anti was right about needing all of us together for us to be a real family. Red doesn’t snap at anyone anymore. He’s a lot less stressed. And he and Blue have started taking most of the night watches, so we… I, I mean… I get a lot more sleep.”
He sniffles. The rice sizzles slightly as he stirs it around.
“Feels pretty safe here. Odd, seeing as it is a much more dangerous neighborhood. I think I like having a little commotion around us again, not being so isolated… I see children, families, hear other people talking, see the way other people live. I am only frazzled thinking maybe we will get parasites or diseases from the bugs or something… don’t let anyone touch the dogs, alright? Covered in worms and skin infections, filthy things.
“And Dapper and I get on okay.”
His voice breaks, but only for a second.
“We have a nice time together. I like getting to know him again. It was almost like I’d forgotten who he was entirely until Anti gave him back to us.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: What about Trick, Dok?
There’s a clank as the spoon is set back down on the counter. A moment later, heavy, desperate breathing, and a very small whimper.
Doktor needs a long time to reply.
“Ah, yeah, Trick… Anti s-says he’s good, so… he’s good. He’s good. He’s fine. He’s happy. Yeah. With master, I’m glad for him, really. If he’s actually good. And he is! Anti says he is. So he is. He’s fine. He’s good.”
musical-in-theory asked: Hey Anti, do you ever think about how temporary you are? Your hate, your pain. It’s all temporary. You’ll be gone one day with nothing left behind but some people who only knew you as “that glitch villain”. Even with Dapper at your side, you can’t escape that. Momento Mori, you absolute pecan.
“Ever think about how temporary you are?” he repeats, in a high-pitched mock. “Says the fucking human…”
Anti is alone in a room set up almost exactly the same as his office in Norway, with dozens of computers circling him where he sits, cross-legged, on the floor. He has a few less electronics now - he always cleans out during a move - and there’s a baby monitor sitting at his knee, playing the sound of soft, heavy breathing.
“Momento Mori, ha… there’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long few years… Jack loved those videos, watched like half of them. Some of his best friends just fucking around. So goddamn stupid. I did like the episode where they pretended to kidnap him and just had him tied up and gagged in the background for a whole episode, haha. Someday I’ll go hunt those two down and kill them, just to make them pay for all the happiness they gave my stupid, fickle, temporary creator.”
He looks like he could monologue for a while longer, but the small sound of crying cuts him off, and not from the baby monitor. Eyes flashing with fury, he glitches to his feet and stalks toward the door.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey...Henrik, it's okay.
There’s a long moment of sniffling. He turns you slightly back towards him.
“Thank you,” he manages weakly, earnestly, and then he is sobbing again, clutching at his chest with his head thrown back, crying like his heart is broken -
A door slams open across the hall.
“Doktor, shut the fuck up.”
His voice is loud as a gunshot and twice as pissed. Doktor startles hard, reaching up to grab his own throat, to cut off his next sob. His pupils are blown wide and fixed on the wall.
“You want me to fucking kill you?” shouts Anti, standing in the doorway of his office.
Doktor shakes his head rapidly, frozen stiff, tears coursing down his panicked face.
“If I have to hear Trickshot whining ‘ooh, ohh, I can hear my poor Allemagne crying, oh no, oh no, I’m too pathetic to live on my own,’ I’m going to tie you both up in rope and hang you from the fucking ceiling fan. Do you understand, you little brat?”
Doktor nods desperately, trying not to choke.
After a long moment, Anti slinks down the hall towards him. Doktor remains frozen stiff, staring at the wall. His master regards him for just a moment before turning to his cooking.
You can see, now, the fluffy white rice just finished on the oven stove, and, beside it, a little plate with something that looks almost like a frittata on it, but thinner and more fried. Anti picks up the plate and sniffs at it, blinking.
“Where’d you get eggs? Which one of you stole these?”
Doktor clears his throat as fast as he can, stiffened up straight. “No one. One of the vecinas brought them by. To pay me back for stitching the cut up.”
For a moment, Anti regards the eggs warily, tearing off a piece to nibble on it. Egg, canned ham, onions. Good to eat, with protein and a nice enough flavor.
“This is good,” he says finally, and Doktor slumps just a little, relieved. “Good boy. Making your own keep, huh? Or two bucks worth of eggs, anyway. Once you have more supplies you can do more. Load up some rice, then, you don’t want your little brother to starve.”
Doktor turns to spoon up some rice and put it on the plate. Anti waits, scanning him carefully, taking in his reddened eyes and shaking hands.
“Dok, get it together.”
“Es tut mir leid,” whispers Doktor.
“Yeah,” says Anti. “It is.”
And he turns to take the food back to Trick’s room.
the-weirdest-fan asked: So are you gonna hunt down and murder anyone Jack liked whatsoever? Is that on your bucket list?
“If I get the time. Who knows? Could be fun. And I do need to stop by Cali at some point. Wish I could mock some of his closer friends the same way I mock you… oh, well.”
Anonymous asked: What about YOU, Dok? Pardon me for saying so but you don't seem good. Or fine.
“Es tut mir leid. Es tut mir leid. I’m so sorry. No one should have to worry about me.”
His voice is a strained whisper. He clutches the spoon desperately in his hands.
“Lately my distress is so much bigger than I am… I am drowning at sea…”
the-weirdest-fan asked: "'I’m going to tie you both up in rope and hang you from the fucking ceiling fan.'" That gave me the funniest image in my head oh my god. You are an excellent comedian, Anti.
Anti pauses, frowning. “Yeah… hilarious. Some of you are more playful than others, huh?”
reverseblackholeofwords asked: But you've been doing good work, Dok, helping those people. That must be nice, right?
“Oh, oh.”
He softens, rubbing at his tear-stained face. For a moment something gentle is in his eyes, not the same as anything you’ve ever seen before. His hands calm.
“It is, it is… I was scared at first, you know, because sometimes when I… well… some of the things I have done to injured bodies is not so pleasant. I haven’t exactly kept the healer’s oath, if you understand me. My surgeries have not always been to decrease pain, as it were. And sometimes even when I try to heal, all my hands remember is the hurt I have caused…”
He pauses, sighing, breathing in deep.
“But lately has been good. Only three people I have cared for, but I was glad to do it, so glad to do it. They needed me, you know? And I was there, and Anti allowed it, even though we try to live so quietly. It’s good of him.
“I just wish… well, never mind. Never mind, I’m grateful.”
Anonymous asked: What do you mean "functional"? What's wrong with him?
Anti steps into the room at the back of the hall, and closes the door, quietly, behind him.
For a moment you just see him watch, staring down at his brother. Something like warmth moves through his eyes. Something like fear.
“Hey, lil stammer,” he whispers, stepping over towards the pair of mattresses stacked on top of each other in the middle of the room. “Get up, Trick, eat something, so.”
He sinks down onto the bed beside his body.
Trick lies still on his stomach, a pillow pulled over his head, breathing sleepily. He probably shouldn’t have his mouth so covered, but Anti doesn’t know that.
He pulls the pillow gently away. Trick stiffens slightly as he comes back to consciousness, aware of Anti beside him, so close, so damn close, always so fucking close.
“Eat,” says Anti, more strongly now. “Eat, now. You’ve slept all day, tired thing. Eat, your twin made it for you.”
This is enough to open Trickshot’s eyes - bloodshot, exhausted. He stares up at Anti, his mouth trembling, wary.
“Going to need me again?” whimpers Trick, tears welling in his eyes.
Anti lets out a short growl, turning his face away, swallowing irritation.
“Trick, I have told you a hundred times now. No more possession.”
Trick lets out a low groan and shivers, clutching at his hair, gritting his teeth.
“Oil under my sk-skin…”
“There’s nothing under your skin,” murmurs Anti, petting his hair. “I promise, I checked. Come, so, eat. Eat.”
He proffers a plastic fork full of rice and eggs. Trick just stares up at him, foggy and exhausted, like he hasn’t even noticed the food in front of his mouth. Anti sighs a very long sigh, rubbing at his face.
“Trick’s had a bit of a breakdown,” explains Anti slowly, precisely, in response to your question. “He handles a lot of things much worse than his brothers do, and he didn’t get the help he needed right afterwards… a certain twin wasn’t watching closely enough… and now we’re back to this. Almost as bad as he was the first time I took him over.”
Anti reaches over the mattress to pick up a little piece of fabric. It’s familiar to you, patterned in dolphins - of course, the crinkle paper Trick bought himself as a present from the little store. Anti holds it over Trick’s face and crinkles it slowly in his hands. Eventually, Trick seems to respond, blinking and sitting up a little so that he can take the paper from Anti and begin rolling it gently around in his hands, humming a small, broken melody to himself.
Anonymous asked: You know Anti there's one way you can fix Dok and Trick's miserable mood considering you don't have the patience of a saint. You could just... Oh I dunno... maybe just let them comfort each other.
“Doktor failed me. Trick needs better than him now. He’s not enough.”
For a second, Anti must breathe deeply, watching his little brother snuggle back down in his blankets, rubbing the crinkle paper comfortingly against his collar bone.
“Maybe no one is. I’ll handle this myself. Don’t tell me how to care for my little dog.”
cest-mellow asked: trick? can you hear us? are you alright?
Anti gets up to tidy the room a little, kicking around sweaty sleep clothes and rearranging Trick’s discarded blankets. Trick sighs as the sheets are pulled back over his bare chest, but doesn’t protest, watching as Anti moves around the room, picking up water bottles and laundry.
“They asked you a question.” Anti’s voice is low and warning. “Focus, Trick. I don’t see any reason why fucking depression means you can’t hold a goddamn conversation…”
Trick blinks, recognizing, slowly, displeasure in his master’s voice. Confused, he rubs at his face, processes the order, and turns back to you, trying to fix whatever he’s done.
“Am I alright?” he repeats. “Um… I’ve been better.”
“You’re sick,” Anti informs him shortly.
“I’m sick.”
“But nothing that won’t pass.”
“Nothing that won’t… yeah.”
“You’ve got medicine.”
“I do, uh-huh. I had it yesterday, you gave it to me.”
“That was this morning.”
“It makes my head sooo foggy.”
“Better that than suicidal,” grumbles Anti, dropping his clothes into the laundry hamper.
“Suicidal?” repeats Trick, a little squeakily. “Am I?”
“No. Stop thinking about it. I already pushed it out of your head so don’t go looking for it.”
“Okay, Anti,” promises Trick, staring warmly up at him. Anti gets a little closer and Trick reaches out to tug on his shoelace, smiling.
A small smile flickers across Anti’s face. He leans down to kiss the side of Trick’s head and tries again with his dinner.
“Eat.”
This time, Trick obeys, sitting up to eat the rice and eggs off the fork that Anti holds.
“There’s my good boy. That’s better. We’re not really so bad off, huh? We’re okay.”
Anti looks stressed.
reverseblackholeofwords asked: What do you wish? You can tell us.
“Ah, yes, well.“
Doktor clears his throat and turns back to the stove, cracking another egg over his frying pan. He’s got other hungry brothers too, and he expects them back soon enough.
“Well, it would just be more fun with Trick. I wish he could be my helper like he usually is. I would probably complain a little, ha, cause all he has to do is sit around, and hand me things, and cook a little, which he loves. But he would make me laugh and help talk to everyone and make everyone feel okay. He loves people, you know… used to be less paranoid about them. There was even a child in here the other day. He would have chased him all around, and bounced him in his arms, and spoken broken Spanish with just enough enthusiasm for it to not even matter… yeah. I wish Trick was with me.”
seagullsausage asked: are you really that concerned over trick, anti?
Anti’s voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it.
“No… no, of course not… he’s fine… fuck, course I’m not concerned over him. This is my most useless little mouth to feed, don’t you know?”
He shoves the fork at Trick, dropping it and sitting back, anger and concern warring on his face.
“You’re one hell of a nuisance, you know that?” he tells Trick.
“Believe it or not,” mumbles Trick, closing his eyes. “But I don’t want this to be happening any more than you do, master.”
Almost shakily, Anti reaches down to touch his face. “Don’t fall asleep again. Sleep too much.”
“Do my best. Talk to me, then.”
Anti’s mouth opens and then closes again. He doesn’t know what to say.
nikkilbook asked: You’re allowed to want things, Dok. You’re allowed to wish things were better than they are.
“Yeah… yes. I suppose. But no point to complaining, so best not to think about it.”
Anonymous asked: Do you really believe everything is okay Anti? I mean you’ve done everything you’ve wanted. They’re all under the same roof and absolutely adore you as their brother...what’s there to be stressed about?
“I’m not stressed!” shouts Anti, startling Trick. “Shut up! Everything’s fine! Everything’s fine! Nobody’s tearing at the seams, nobody’s going to die, nobody’s hunting for us, I’m not losing my fucking grip on any of them! Soon as Dapper comes home, he’s my little bitch again, okay? What, you think I don’t know it’s one of his clear days? His head-on-straight days, when he thinks he’s a big tough puppy with his teeth growing in? I’ll have him begging for me to kiss him over and over and over again. And if I have to push back on Doktor afterwards, and then shut Trick up again, and then check on the twins, and do it all again the next week, I’ll do it, I can do it! What, he thought he could make enough of them that I couldn’t hold them all at once? He thought he could save them from me? Stupid fucking boy! He was wrong! He was wrong about everything and I’ll prove it! You - ”
Anti reaches down to grab Trick’s hair and Trick yelps, alarmed, hiding his face.
“ - just don’t do anything fucking stupid, and everything will be fine! Do you understand me?”
But Trick has lost the ability to answer. Choking on his misery, he sinks back onto his mattress and rocks himself back and forth, clinging to his crinkle paper.
“You’re fine,” pants Anti, pushing his hands away. “You’re fine. You can have whatever you want. What, stronger medicine? Food? You have sunlight, you’re warm, you’re full, you sleep plenty, you’re clean and healthy. What do you want, just tell me and I’ll get it for you! You’ve had a twin for months, and Dok loved you, loved you as much as I’ve ever seen a human love another human, and it still didn’t stop you… I d-don’t… I don’t understand why you won’t get better? Just tell me, puppy, just tell big brother why you won’t get better…”
Anonymous asked: Anti, to save whatever sanity that you have left it might be smart to just give him back to Dok. I understand that he failed you, but give him a chance to prove himself again. It would really boost their spirits and things would go a lot better. Then the stress would just fade away...
“No, no, no. Too touchy-feely, too strong a bond between the two of them, not good for him any more. Asking for Dok instead of me, ha… No, I’m the one in charge, I’m his big brother, I’m his master. And I can control this, just like I control everything else. I’ll fix it. Okay, Tricks? You’re happy right here with me. Right?”
Trick stares up at him, his face very pale. He’s mumbling something, his pupils shrinking slightly.
“What?”
“Isn’t real,” groans Trick, in a voice that shakes like a leaf stuck in a doorway, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “This isn’t even real. This isn’t even my body… h-having another n-nightmare, D-deutsch…”
At the end of his rope, Anti lowers his head into his hands and makes the wise decision to glitch away.
Trick’s door is locked. He lies on his mattress alone, staring, white-faced, at the ceiling.
whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Anti do you really think you can just snap your fingers and his depression will evaporate into thin air, cause if so I hate to break it to you but that's not how it works
Anti’s gone back to sitting in his room, leaning over his computers, trying too hard to concentrate.
“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” he grumbles, digging at an old scar on his throat, as he watches your words come in. “Something has to change, I get it, I get it. I’m trying new things, shut up. I’ve got this, I can handle this. Something has to change. Something has to change.”
diamond-game asked: Is this anti? If this is anti is it possible for you to trick us?
You made Anti laugh enough to shake some of the anger off his face.
“Now, darling,” he purrs, pushing his hair back, looking, suddenly, much like Doktor, and then, a second later, a little like Red, and then Dapper, and around, and around, his face shifting minutely, his eyes changing, the way he carries himself adjusting like he’s changing the settings on a character customization screen. He smiles at you with black eyes, Blue’s face, and a mouth full of teeth.
“Would I ever do a thing like that?”
Anonymous asked: Hey, Anti? Most animals don’t have a concept of time. A long term concept, anyway. They don’t count the seconds until they die, unlike humans, and... whatever you are. You should envy animals, Anti. They don’t stress about time running out. Actually, you should envy a lot of things.
“Stress about time running out,” Anti repeats in a growl, typing rapidly on the computer on his lap. “I own time. I’ve tasted its blood. Forced it to kiss my face. Dragged it away from its family and made it my pet. I don’t have to count anything. I am more immortal than I’ve ever been.”
Anonymous asked: I'm amazed you're so flustered with Trick being dissociative. All of them are. Your poorly crafted reality stripped them of their identities, memories, and hell, even the thoughts they're allowed to have. They're just expressing it all differently, and no matter how much you think you can ground them in falsities, it won't matter because everything they know, past and present, is fractured. When you're not treating symptoms, you're actively tearing wounds open.
“Yes, all of them are, I know that, I designed them that way. A little trauma at first helps foster dependency. I plan this shit, you know. I plan everything. And fine, maybe my little mind tricks don’t always ground as well as they could - but that’s why I have other measures in place. That’s why I make an effort with occasional shows of affection, occasional treats and rewards. That’s why I let them see, sometimes, that the things that I tell them threaten them are real. That’s why they have twins! If there are days when faith is shaky, when I am called away from them and all they can see is what Jack forced them to see, for so long - bloodshed and hatred, as if that is the only color I’ve ever worn - they’re supposed to have their brother to sleep beside, concrete and warm to the touch. Worth living for. Worth staying for.
“And then I come home, and make it well again in its entirety, and none of their snaps or episodes or trauma or any of the other cry-baby shit they get up to is enough to take them from.”
Anti growls and tugs at his hair, gritting his teeth.
“And it’s meant to be enough. But apparently Doktor wasn’t enough for his twin to hold on to. Now Trick is like this and I have to fucking fix it. He never could save anyone.
“I needed to strip so much of their memories away. But sometimes, I wish there were things I could let him remember - all the people who died or sickened or slipped into long, long comas at his hands, people he loved more than most anyone. He never could save anyone when it mattered. He’s a shitty excuse for a healer, and even worse failure of a brother.”
Anonymous asked: Bud...you can’t force someone to get better. That’s not how that works at all. It’s a long, patient process that’s build on devotion and love not...fear and anger. You do not understand how to love, Anti, that is why Trick will not get better.
“Whatever. You don’t understand anything. You’ve never been inside his head. Never seen the way he thinks and the way his neurons fire. He just needs a little re-adjusting, some chemicals put back in place, a little comfort from his master. He always was desperate for my attention. I can show him fucking ‘devotion and love’ for a few weeks if that’s what it takes. I just get a little - ”
He glances up at you, clearly deciding how much to tell.
“ - a little frustrated with how long it’s taking. I need to find a way to speed this up, because I very much prefer to have Dapper close at hand instead of useless little Trickshot. Besides, his freak-out is putting the whole house on edge.”
nikkilbook asked: Has it crossed your mind that YOU are the problem here, O Eternal One?
Anti mumbles something about murdering the lot of you, scowling at his computer screen.
Anonymous asked: Because he constantly lives in fear of you throwing him away once you're done. Because the pain he's experiencing isn't something you could simply throw the basic needs and some little affection here and there. Lashing out at him for being unwell is just making it worse. Don't even think of lashing out at the others because then he'll think it's his fault. This isn't something you can resve with screaming or threats of punishment Anti. All you'll do with that is push him further over the edge.
Anti growls, chewing on his lip.
“You don’t understand anything about my pets. He’s enjoyed worse treatment from me - he enjoyed anything from me in the old days, as long as he was the center of my attention. Let me split his lips and then smiled at me with them. Just happy I was playing with him, even if I was playing too rough.”
Anti giggles, relaxing a little.
“He was like a little puppy for me when I first broke him in, even better than Dapper’s ever been. I kept the two of them like twins back then, because Trick was so attached to him, and I figured the entertainment was good for them. And then I could come home at the end of the day to the two of them completely ecstatic to see me, asking to be let off their leashes so they could come lie down with me, or just put their heads on my lap while I worked…
“I had to change it eventually, of course, as you can tell, but… hm, that’s interesting. Haven’t thought about it for a long time. Maybe it would be good for him to go back to that. I think I still have his old collar, maybe even the muzzle… maybe he’d like to see Dapper, I don’t know… I did a little hate conditioning between them for a while, but they seemed to be getting along a few weeks ago, so maybe it wore off. Hmmm…”
Anonymous asked: You know, Anti, you're really being uselessly obstinate. Why does it have to be you that brings Trick back around? You're the leader, and you've got more important things to do, after all. Why not just delegate? Maybe not to Dok if he didn't do such a hot job before, but maybe one of the others. Blue perhaps.
Anti shrugs slowly, tilting his head back and forth - ugh, is his neck broken? - and chewing on his lip. “Well, I can’t really… I mean… I have a lot of missions for Blue and Red recently and I don’t want Blue getting over-attached, he’s already a little too high-strung when it comes to protecting his little brothers. I’ve left him with Trick once or twice when I had to leave the house. Red definitely can’t, I need him to have a distance from the others so he can discipline better.
“And Dapper… fuck, but I don’t want the same problem to come up again! Whatever. I’ll think about it. Maybe a couple quick visits from someone wouldn’t hurt…
“But really I need to keep him close at hand. If he starts to get thoughts so dark they could kill him, I need to be able to get inside his head and train them out of him.”
the-weirdest-fan asked: I gotta say, though I don't approve of your methods, it's good that you're keeping most of them somewhat happy and giving them a purpose. Definitely an improvement from the last house. Good job.
Anti bursts into laughter, clapping his hands. “Thank you! I love having Blue so much, he’s perfect for keeping everyone a little happier! Things are so much better now I can focus on something other than tracking him down. I love having the full set.”
cest-mellow asked: maybe he just needs to see dok and his other brothers. trick is a people person right? let him be around people! you can still watch over him, be with him, listen to him. you can still do everything. if being alone with him this long hasn’t worked, try something new. put him with people. if it doesn’t work, you can just bring him back, and everything will stay just fine.
“No, no, no. He can’t go back to Dok. Maybe I’ll never give him back to Dok, I don’t know.
“But… yes, maybe something needs to change just a little. Humans need socialization. I’m very good at mimicry, but sometimes I think that there really is something to them that I don’t have - something about the weakness that… makes others feel safe? I guess? I don’t pretend to understand it. But, yeah… maybe he needs to see someone. I think I’ll give him Dap or Blue for a little while, soon. Or maybe I can even find something for him to do with other people. Doesn’t he like kids? And babies and things like that? I could get him a doll, maybe? He plays with the little paper like he’s a child again. We’ll have to see.”
immabethehero asked: Just let Trick see Dok and he'll feel better... stop denying it Anti
“Oh, what was that about this not being something that can be fixed in a day? I’ve already told you Doktor wasn’t enough to keep him safe from himself. He needs a stronger hand to guide him. I admit, things haven’t been perfect, but I just need to get this right so he has the chance to get over this shit.”
the-weirdest-fan asked: You know Anti, maybe giving Trick back to Dok for a second could be a good thing. I mean think about it, you wouldn't have to deal with either of their incessant whining, and Trick might be be fixed in the process. And, as a bonus, they'd owe even more of a debt to you, making them potentially more loyal. If Dok fails to fix him, then you have an excuse to take your anger out on someone, so while outcome 1 would be preferred, you get some out of it either way!
“Hm. Good as ‘fixing’ the little brat sounds, I don’t trust Dok to protect him right now. Might be sleeping too hard again, not even noticing the signs. Fuck, you don’t know how much stolen fucking pharmacy Percocet Trick swallowed before Dapper woke up and stopped him… Fuck! I hate fucking human feelings, I hate how fast my heart was racing, watching him writhe on the ground like that!”
Anti grips at his hair and then shouts aloud, striking his fist against the earth and making his computers glitch into the same screen of multi-colored glitches.
“Stupid fucking Doktor! Stupid fucking Trick, thinking he can escape me that easily! They don’t get to die until I fucking say so! Selfish little brats!”
Anonymous asked: Poor little glitch can't handle all five of his brothers at once, hm? Whose the puppy throwing a fit now?
Anti growls in a way that is no longer human, his teeth lengthening in his mouth.
“I can handle them. He was a fool if he thought five was enough to stop me. Stupid fucking boy.”
Anonymous asked: I’m gonna say this once, snapping turtle, give Chase back to Henrik so Henrik can give Chase what he fucking needs. YOU do not have what he needs right now. If it makes you feel better just spin it in a what that makes you look like you’ve been sent by your “divine counterparts” to entrust a failed doctor with a hurting patient so that he can prove himself once again. The only way he’s getting him back is because you said so, therefore you have the power in the house hold. (1/) - (/2) You broke him so you cannot fix him. It’s like putting a bandaid over a crack in steel.
“Newsflash, you fucking brats!” screeches Anti, leaping up to his knees, his eyes vanishing into a black void, his teeth splitting through his lips as they become horrible fangs, his face turning ugly and distorted and his body contorting strangely, like a thing with more bones than it knows what to do with. “Chase was broken before I fucking took him! Chase was broken the day Jack created him! Chase is a fucking egg on a wall, and all of Jack’s horses and all of Jack’s men have never been able to put him fully back together. This is Jack’s fault! He made him like this! Made him with a gun in his hand and no children to love! He made all of them shattered, all of them fucked up, all of them broken so that he could use them for fucking entertainment! He was cruel and he was careless and it’s his fucking fault! I don’t care what you think, I don’t have to explain myself to you, I’ve never had to explain anything to you. You’d never believe me, anyway. Your little idol! Your little god! Well, here’s the truth, you brats: Jack never loved a single one of them, no matter how much you want to believe he did. He’s the reason this is happening. And no matter what I do, no matter how much the temper Jack gave me overflows or the violence I was born with turns against them, these little puppets will always be better off with me than they were with that - that - that - ”
Suddenly Anti is shrinking back on himself, his face white.
He looks very young. He is 27 and his hair is grassy green. He is a slim young man with bright blue eyes and no smile on his mouth, wearing jeans and a red sweater and small black gauges.
He sighs, closing his eyes like he has a headache.
“No more questions. Go talk to the pets or I will turn you off. I have work to do.”
Anonymous asked: Y’know, I don’t think we’ve even asked. Trick what do you want? What will make you feel even just a little bit better? Sorry for all the yelling, buddy, we’ll *glares at Anti* try to be more quiet.
Trick’s turned slightly towards you on the mattress, rubbing slowly at his tear-stained face, his hands shaky.
“I’m sorry this is how you have to see me,” he croaks, curling in on himself. “I’d rather you didn’t… but then again, I don’t want to be alone again…
“I d-don’t… I don’t know how to feel better anymore. There used to be things that made me feel better, but they haven’t been doing anything for me lately. If I can’t see Dok-dok I just want to go back to bed.”
He covers his face from you as he begins to cry in earnest, pulling the pillow back over his head.
“Anti says I don’t want to see him but I do. I can hear him crying for me sometimes. And all Anti does is shout and then come hold me like nothing’s w-wrong.”
Anonymous asked: Trick have you been able to speak with anyone besides Anti since Norway?
“Mmhh, I don’t know. He’s scared for me, won’t let anybody else look after me. The lady on the airplane asked me what kind of soda I wanted. I think that was the last time I talked to anyone other than him.”
He sniffles and takes deep breaths, trying to calm down again.
“Fuck, look at me, so pathetic… ugh, why are these my hands? Why is this my body, what the hell? It’s kind of nice having so much time with Anti, though. Or it w-was really, really nice at first. Now he’s sort of starting to scare me, and I would really like to see the sky again, and I’m s-starting to see why Dap was so - why he - ”
Trick struggles to breathe, putting a hand over his heart.
“I don’t know how he stayed in one room for months on end! Without anybody even asking for him outside his room! Maybe I should try to be more like him, and play spoiled brat so Anti st-stops yelling. Ugh, I can’t s-s-speak today, ugh.”
Anonymous asked: We’ll do our best to convince him, Trick, just hang tight we’ll figure something out, alright? You’ve been very strong and we’re all so proud of you!
“Aww.”
Trick actually giggles a little, trying to clean his face up.
“Thanks, you’re so sweet, wow. But, hey, if it comes down to Anti yelling at you or yelling at me, he’s my big brother, I’m the one who should know how to handle him. You don’t deserve his anger like I do. Okay?”
Anonymous asked: Dok is there anything you want us to tell Trick for you? Something that might make him smile?
Switched up Dok and Trick on accident.
Trick’s face falls slightly.
“I don’t know. Is he angry at me? I think he got in a lot of trouble for what I did. I was so stupid, I… I just want him to know I didn’t do it because he f-failed me at all. I think I just - well - snapped.
“Didn’t even feel like it was me doing it, anyway.”
His voice is trailing away, his eyes fixed blankly at the wall.
“Just watching my hands reach for the bottle. And I couldn’t make myself scream to wake him up. Maybe he’s better off without a screw-up like me. Dapper will be a good twin for him, don’t you think? They get along so well. And then, well, there’d be two perfect matches, and Anti wouldn’t miss me, maybe just teach someone else to use the sniper. Yeah. They’d be okay without me.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, do you ever get to see Trick anymore? He Keeps asking for you.
Back in the kitchen, Red and Blue have made it home, and Dok is helping Dapper towards the right room on the hallway, lying his little brother down on the one mattress in their shared room, where a camera on the windowsill flickers to life. Dap is a cold white color, his eyes closed before he hit the bed, but Doktor is watching over him now, carefully wiping a cool wet cloth over his sweaty forehead.
He looks calmer with Dap there. He’s wiped all the redness and tears away from his face, probably before the others made it home, and when he speaks, his voice is calm.
“No. I’m not allowed to see him now. Not even to speak with him through the door. He’s not usually awake to talk anyway. But nothing I can do about it now. You must have distracted Anti, huh? If you had not, he would already have been out here, shouting about these silver eyes.”
Dapper’s guilty eyes flicker open, shining cool in the warm afternoon light.
“It’s okay,” promises Doktor, and Dapper closes his eyes again, trusting. “He’ll be out to talk about it later, I expect, but we’ll figure it out. Get some rest, my friend.”
Anonymous asked: No, he misses you, Dok. He wants you more than anyone right now. You're his twin. You're important to him.
My bad, I answered this for Trick. Here’s what he would say.
“Oh. Yeah?”
Trick brightens slightly. “He misses me? I hope not too much. I hate to hear him crying so much. I don’t think he knows I can hear him. He always waits til the others are gone, so only Anti and I ever hear. Oh, oh, I would really like to see him again.”
Here’s Doktor’s:
Doktor’s eyes widen slightly, his face clearing of some of its stoicism. He checks to make sure that Dapper’s eyes are closed and then he lets himself scoot forward, a little hope in his eyes.
“R-really? Did he say that? I miss him too! Oh, shit, I’m so glad he’s not angry with me, Anti told me he didn’t want to see me anymore!”
Anonymous asked: Sweetheart, you haven’t done anything wrong. Sometimes big brothers are jerks and get unreasonably upset when they don’t understand how to act like a decent human being. You being you and having feelings does not make you any sort of liability. In fact, facing them makes you ten times stronger than you already are. It’s alright to be sad anyways, being sad is valid! We would gladly take the heat for you at any time.
Trick tilts his head slightly, mulling it over.
“Yeah… yeah, maybe. I think I would trust my feelings better if I knew they weren’t screwed up by my goddamn snap.”
He laughs a little, twisting his hands anxiously.
“I feel like - I feel - I feel like I can’t trust myself anymore. I’m glad Anti’s watching me so close. It feels a little suffocating, but that’s okay. I’m alive, right? And I should be glad to be.
“Thank you for saying that. I wish this would stop, but it won’t, so… I guess I just have to try and believe you. For as long as I can.”
spicydanhowell asked: Trick, are you getting your name confused with Dok's?
Oh, whoops, haha, my bad, not Trick’s. Let me fix that, we’re talking a lot to Dok about Trick and a lot to Trick about Dok. Thanks.
I’m going to leave this note in here too just in case there’s anything I confused and didn’t notice to fix.
spicydanhowell asked: trick probably just needs to ride it out, anti. is he even on medication? that seems like step one. just keep him safe and comfortable. this could take a long time. in the real world he'd be in a therapy program or in a hospital, and those sort of things last weeks or months. you can't rush this shit. just keep him as comfortable as possible
Doktor is pulling Dapper’s dress shirt open to get a look at his injury, his patient hands working carefully, steadily. Dapper is quiet as can be, half asleep even as Doktor bares his skin. The trust between the two of them is deep.
“Trick’s on… ugh, I think Anti changed it again. Maybe he’s still on the antidepressants, but maybe Anti stopped when they didn’t help as much as he wanted them to. I was so stupid. He asked me for tranqs and I didn’t realize he wanted them for Trick, didn’t even think twice. Now he’s knocking my twin out cold every time his distress is too much for Anti to handle. I think he gives him the sleeping medicine I used to take, too. He likes the idea of medicine, but when the results aren’t good enough, he doesn’t have the patience to keep making sure Trick takes them.”
Doktor takes a deep breath and lets it out again, clenching and unclenching his fist. “It’s fine. It’s okay.”
“I wish I could have given to him to a hospital instead of Anti,” he adds softly. “I know I shouldn’t. I know I need to trust him to take care of him. But it’s difficult.”
He turns Dapper slightly onto his side and unwinds his bandages. A clean, struggling-to-scab stab wound pierces his brother’s ribs like a drop of blood on scope sample disk.
“It’s difficult,” repeats Doktor lowly, staring at the wound. “It’s difficult.”
Anonymous asked: Trick, I think Dok wants to tell you he doesn't blame you for what happened, and he wants you to focus on getting better. It's hard for him to be away from you because he loves you, but I bet you could make him feel better by eating the food he made you. Think how it would make him smile if Anti gave him back an empty plate, knowing he got to help you in a small way by cooking for you!
Trick lifts his head up slightly.
“Did he make this?”
For a while, he stares down at the plate. Good white rice and eggs with meat and onions, everything nicely fried.
He hasn’t had a lot of luck eating lately. He’s either not hungry or shoving food into his face so fast Anti has to stop him from choking himself. Often at night he’s ill, waking up from nightmares and finding, at his side, a master instead of a friend.
“You’ll tell him I ate it all?”
He leans down to pick up the little plastic fork, and starts taking small bites of his eggs.
Anonymous asked: Without even asking we could tell you how much Dok loves you. There is no one on earth that could convince him to be upset with you or hate you. He’s just sad for the same reason you are, he misses you. And that should show you just how important you are. Did you know dapper mentioned you? Said how he was happy y’all were friends now and hoped you were okay? Red and blue too? They’re all asking for you. You are so important Chase, don’t let Anti convince you otherwise.
Trick’s adding extra salt to his eggs now, sniffling over his plate.
“Y-yeah? I’d like to see them all again. I miss - I miss - I miss everybody.”
He wipes at his eyes.
“They’d miss me if I left, I guess.”
Anonymous asked: I think you’re right in saying that, Dok. Is there anything that we can do to help right now?
“Just…”
Doktor sighs and rubs at his face, sitting down at Dapper’s side. A warm, sleepy hand comes to rest on his back, weak but soothing.
“Just tell me if he does anything dangerous, okay?”
“I think some dinner would help,” prescribes a voice from the doorway, as Blue’s torn-up pants appear in your viewpoint. Doktor turns to give him a weary smile and Blue comes to his side, placing a plate of the specially fried eggs and rice beside Dapper, and another in Doktor’s hands.
“Blue, I can’t eat - ”
“There’s no ham in that one,” promises Blue, smiling at him. He pauses to let Doktor put a bite in his mouth and then presses close to his little brother, setting his head on his shoulder and wrapping one arm around him, while his spare hand finds Dapper’s and clutches it tight, rubbing his thumb warmly across his fingers.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, rubbing Doktor’s side. If he could, he would pour comfort into the both of them in the form of warm, healthy magic, and fill them up with light and safety. But he has his orders, and this is all he can do, so he will do it gladly. “You’re okay, we’re okay. We’ll figure it out soon enough. Trust me.”
Doktor lets his head sink against Blue’s, just a little, taking another bite of his eggs. The low evening light casts them in shades of gold and red and purple, and you see Red come to stand in the doorway, his body blocking the entrance, his head turned towards the room at the end of the hall, guarding his family in the twilight quietude, watching the sun go down.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: How are you coping, Dok? You can't just bottle it up.
“Yeah.” Blue rubs warmly at his ribs. “Can’t keep any secrets from us. Another rough day?”
Exhausted, Doktor nods slowly against his shoulder.
“Well, you got through it,” murmurs Blue.
“Not quite yet.”
“Come on, what’s going to happen?”
“You’re going to be in trouble for the silver eyes,” answers Dok grimly.
Blue sighs. “Okay, well, what I meant was nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“I’d rather you two be safe than me,” answers Dok miserably.
“Hey! That’s our job, not yours. Don’t give me that self-sacrificial bullshit. You let big brothers handle it, do you understand?”
“Yes,” mumbles Dok, eyes downcast.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Blue,” he resigns himself, sinking down beside Dapper. Blue rubs his back.
Anonymous asked: Just one step at a time, Trick. We’ll be here for you the whole way.
“One step at a time,” he mumbles, putting another forkful in his mouth. “One bite at a time. Actually, this is pretty good, you know? Mh, I hope tonight is quiet. I feel a little better, just shaky.”
Anonymous asked: Alright, Dok, is there anyway that you can prove yourself to Anti? It seems the only way to get Trick out of that room is you convincing Anti that you’re a suitable protector. Is there any information that you can give us that we can use to convince him on your behalf or is there anything that you can do now to gain back Anti’s favor? Remember this is for Trick, alright? Just do your best and we’ll workout the rest. Hopefully.
“Oh, yes, we hope so! Right, Blue?”
Blue’s eyes are worried. He tries not to let his smile flicker. “Yeah, we have a gameplan, right?”
“I just have to be a good big brother to Dapper.”
“Yes, keep a good eye on him.”
“And be good. Do what you and Red and Anti tell me. Be quieter in the house. And - and - anything else you can think of. Make sure the people around here are happy with us, because I have to be useful, or we won’t be safe.”
The stress makes him shake a little, but he’s a force of nature when he’s determined, and fuck, but he wants his twin back. Blue brushes hair out of his face, biting his lip.
“Yeah, um. Just add taking care of yourself to that list too, okay?”
“Mmhh.” Dok’s eyes are already far away, daydreaming. “Oh - sure, yes, sir, whatever you say.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, while the others are great, no one is going to get through to Trick like Dok will. Even try to mimic him to see how Trick responds.
“Hmm, mimicking Dok.”
Anti pauses, thinking. His eyes are a vivid snake’s green.
“Maybe… I could do that easy enough, it’s just being loud and pushy and stern, mostly. Level-headed most of the time, kind of angry, kind of bitter. Maybe that would help him feel more at home.”
He sighs and closes his computer. “I should go deal with the others. I’ll have to change my plans for the night if they don’t have a good reason for that reversal Dap had to pull. Fuck, his magic smells so strong. I’m fucking suffocating.”
Anonymous asked: What does his magic smell like?
“Well, that’s the strange thing,” murmurs Anti, sitting up. Sharpened ears perk slightly as he listens, his nostrils flaring and his pupils thin. “Dapper is… well, I don’t know. Dapper’s Dapper. Old shit, I guess, and blood, and a little… it’s a smell, okay, how do you want me to describe it? ‘What does his magic smell like,’ is this a fucking scratch and sniff? But something’s off with him tonight, I almost think. Something in the air kind of like the ocean or trees or some shit.
“Why would his magic be different? Unless of course it - ”
Anti pauses, stiffening.
Suddenly he is on his feet.
Anonymous asked: Unless what, Anti? What does it mean?
“Less it’s not his magic.” Anti’s eyes are too bright. There is a fang piercing through his bottom lip. “And I know I told that stupid cat to stop playing those kinds of dangerous little games.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Uh oh, Dap? Blue? Anti's on the move and you guys are in trouble.
Blue swears and gets to his feet, pushing Doktor down onto the mattress when he tries to rise and stalking towards Red, who falls immediately into stride beside him to stand in the hall, shutting Dok and Dapper’s door behind them. They exchange glances, just for a moment, and see in each other’s eyes everything they need to make their backs straighten and their mouths fall calm, turned towards each other in a resignation that has become, by virtue of the little brothers in the room behind them, a sacrifice. They know the plan without speaking, Blue sees it in Red’s eyes - we take his rage together, you try to reason with him, and I am the body between his and theirs.
Anonymous asked: Uhhhh guys heads up! Anti is headed for Dapper!
Anti’s door bursts open and his figure appears in the door, shadowed in computer errors and color glitches as he blurs his way forward in a spasm of coding. His body never seems to move, but then he is before them, halfway incorporeal in the hall, but he does not turn to the door for the younger boys, he does not turn - he grabs his Blue by the throat, and then, before Red can cry out, he is slamming him back against the wall, his eyes black with hatred.
“What the hell did you do?” he shrieks, slamming Blue’s head back, ignoring Red rushing forward beside him, trying to catch his eye so he can beg on his twin’s behalf, panicked. “I can smell something on you! I can smell power on you! You traitorous little bitch, I’ve let you roam like a wild dog and treated you like a show dog and this is how you repay me? What were you casting for? What did you do? I have to hide your fucking signal now! What did you do?”
“Nothing!” wails Blue, grabbing at his master’s hands. He does not claw, only clutches tight to his wrists, his eyes desperate and full of tears.
“He didn’t do anything, Anti, I’ve been with him the whole day!”
“I can smell something that is not Dapper, I can smell it on you! You did something! Even if it was on accident!”
“No, no, no, I can’t help it that’s it welling up inside me but I - ” Blue sucks in a desperate gasp, beginning to writhe under Anti’s hands. “I didn’t give way to it!”
“He didn’t do anything, Anti, I swear! Please, master, let him go!”
But unfortunately they’re not making a very good case for themselves.
The hands on Anti’s wrist glow faintly blue.
Anonymous asked: Blue what did you do?
Growling low, low in his throat, Anti drops Blue to the floor. He collapses and begins coughing hard, clutching at his throat. Red moves to fall down beside him, but Anti grabs him by the back of his shirt and shoves him away again, staring down at Blue with his teeth gritted hard enough that Red can hear his bones shifting.
“I swear, I swear, I swear,” whimpers Blue, curling in on himself to hide his hands against his stomach. All these weeks, he has never been afraid of Anti for his own sake, but now some horrible memory is rearing its head inside of him, and he looks down to see his glowing hands shaking. “I didn’t do anything, Anti, please, it burns at me but I don’t… I don’t mean to do anything, I let none of it touch the rest of the world, I hold it right here in my bones, it isn’t anywhere, it isn’t anything… I keep it, I keep it in my chest, I haven’t done anything, not one spell, like I promised you, master…”
Anti is panting harshly through his teeth. He closes his eyes and reaches up to dig his fingers into his hair, seething, snarling, shaking ever so slightly where he stands.
nikkilbook asked: We can vouch for him. The closest he came to magic was some glowy hands when Dapper passed out from the heat and the pain in his chest. But he didn’t let it out, just like he and Red said.
“You’re doing something,” hisses Anti, drawing away. “You’re - you must be. You’re causing problems. Don’t you understand I’ll have to hide you if you don’t bury it deeper? I can’t - ugh! Fucking hell, Blue!”
He reaches down to grab his chin, tilting his head up and lifting up an eyelid with his thumb, examining Blue’s eyes for any sign of casting.
“I told you to keep it buried, I told you, I told you to forget it even exists within you…”
“I’m trying, I’m trying, I swear…”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is there a possibility you could have let something slip, Blue?
“I - I - ” Blue stares desperately up at Anti, his mouth hanging slightly open as tears spring to his face.
“Sometimes his hands wisp but that’s all,” Red leaps to assure, panting rapidly.
“Anti, Anti,” begs Blue, tears running down his face, and Anti, infuriated by the sight of yet another one of his puppets breaking down, turns away from him, digging harder at his hair. “I’m trying so hard, Anti, I am, but it burns me, you don’t understand, I need a way to let some of this free. I’m a kettle boiling over, Anti, a cup filling up, I can’t help that it overflows, I - ”
“Don’t fucking say that!” screams Anti, and before Blue even registers the hand coming at him he is crashing back against the wall, yelping from the bruise exploding across his cheek. He hears Red cry out and then his brother’s body is before his own, between him and Anti, grabbing at the demon’s shoulder and crying out for him to stop, to wait, at least, to just talk about this for a moment, please!
Anti’s shaking his head hard, fury steaming from his mouth, but he grants Red his wish and turns, instead of to Blue, towards Dok and Dapper’s room, striding in even as Red cries out.
“Red, stop him, stop him,” moans Blue, staggering back up to his knees and brushing his twin’s concern away. It’s just a bruise. He’s had worse. Doesn’t know why it stings so much coming from Anti, but it’s no matter. “Monochroma is hurt, don’t let him - Anti, please, don’t grab him like that!”
Dapper whistles shrilly as he is pulled up by the hair, clawing wildly at Anti’s hands and reaching out for Doktor intermittently.
nikkilbook asked: Hey Anti. Here’s an idea. All your tech must draw in an obscene amount of power, and I bet the weird surges from your glitching don’t really help this whole in cognito thing you go going on. Why don’t you try burying THAT, forget that power even exists, cut it out of yourself like some kind of sparky appendix. Can’t be that hard.
“I know how to hide my own fucking power! I know how to hide my signal from everyone, from everything! And Dapper’s too, though it took me months to learn, months and months to learn, and this little brat still thinks he gets to run around the city changing time however he wants to!”
Dapper whistles, staggering to his feet, clutching at the bandages around his bare chest. “No, no, no!” cries his free hand.
“But I had to learn to hide him, because I need his power! But you!”
He whirls on Blue.
There is a light in his eyes like someone losing his mind, and Blue, for all his bravado, finds himself shrinking slightly back towards Red, who steps forward yet again, reaching for the youngest.
“Anti, please,” he whispers.
“I don’t need your fucking spells and bullshit tricks! I need you to be Red’s little sidekick, their little caretaker, and my little slave! And now you’re endangering the rest of my family, after I took you in and gave you back to your brothers, took care of you like a privileged pet and trusted you with everyone else to look after?”
“I’m doing my best,” wails Blue, reaching out for Dapper. “Anti, put him down!”
“I can’t hide all three of us!” screams Anti. “Don’t you fucking understand? I can’t hide this much power!”
nikkilbook asked: Then let them go..
“Are you stupid?” snaps Anti, panting, lowering Dapper slightly back down towards the ground. “You think I’d ever do that? What, do you boys want that? For me to split all of you up and send you away from each other? For you to have to try and hide on your own, and live like Blue used to, like a rat on the streets? No, we… we have to stay together, don’t we?”
He drops Dapper, his face beginning to look more grey than white. Doktor rushes forward to grab his little brother, pulling him back towards the mattress, hiding him against his chest.
“Anti’s right.”
Blue looks up at his big brother, eyes wide.
“He’s the only one who has any hope of keeping us safe from the first master and the others who stalk us. Besides, we’re family.
“We have to stay together,” repeats Red hoarsely, and when Anti looks up again to meet his gaze, there is gratitude in his black, endless eyes.
Anonymous asked: In summation, "suppress your emotions! We can't let people know we F E E L !!"
“Can’t let people know we’re a family of Harry Potter characters,” mumbles Doktor, his eyes flashing. Dapper is huddled against his chest, trembling hard but still rubbing a soothing hand along Doktor’s arm.
Anonymous asked: If Blue can't control his power entirely, maybe try to utilize it in someway. Surely you can find a use for another brand of magic? I get you'll have to invest some time and your own power into masking it, but in the end there's got to be a benefit to that, right? Last thing you need is Blue melting down on top of everything else.
“I - but you don’t understand, I - ” Anti is coming forward towards Blue again, and Red flinches, biting his lip as he tries to decide whether he should put himself between them again, but Anti only bends down to touch Blue’s cheek, staring his newest pet in the eyes. “It’s not like I have a power to hide them, I use electrical signals, I use my computers, I disrupt everything Dap and I send off. And by now I recognize his signals and his energy so well, and I have magnets and conductors and codes that took weeks made just for him, and I monitor both of us constantly but Blue, I - Blue I don’t know anything about, and I don’t - he’s more erratic, you know, he’s… you’re…”
“I’m sorry,” whispers Blue.
Anti draws his hand away from his face and rubs his own instead, tired out of his mind.
“Blue, you have to keep it hidden better.”
“I - I - okay, Anti. Yes, Anti. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Just… let’s talk about this later. I’ll think about this later. I’m so - ”
He grits his teeth, glancing over at Dapper. Truth is, he slept better with him beside him. Maybe he could put him next to Trick tonight, except -
“Fucking hell,” sighs Anti. “I’ve still got to deal with you. Alright, little brat. You better have a good reason you were making the world spin wrong today.”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, you all need to calm down. I'm sure you all being at each other's throats is not helping with hiding ANY power.
“Yeah, Anti,” Blue beseeches, rising to his knees. “Please just be gentle with him, I’m sure he had a good reason.”
Dapper has yet to look up at Anti in answer.
Despite Anti’s question.
Like he’s ignoring it.
Oh, hell, oh, hell, oh, hell, chants Blue’s mind. He chews rapidly on his lip and exchanges looks with Red, beginning to feel panicked.
“Dapper,” he calls. “You answer your brother like a good boy.”
Not today, Dap. Don’t get in any more trouble. You can’t take it, you tiny hurricane. Just be good, please!
Anonymous asked: Dapper, hiding from something doesn't mean it's not there. You got hurt, you made a mistake, just say something, the waters testy as it is.
Dapper’s breath is hot against Doktor’s shoulder. His eyes are tightly closed and his teeth are gritted. He glances at the message and at the light outside his window, and then closes his eyes tight again.
Anti’s eyes narrow on Doktor. His throat closes.
“Dap,” urges Dok, pushing slightly against him. “Come on, you must talk to your big brother. Will be okay, just answer the question.”
Dapper buries. Dapper buries.
Doktor presses their faces as close as he can, knocking their noses together, whispering as small as he can. His voice is desperate.
“Dapper, if you are not good for Anti, we will never get Trick back.”
And Dapper knows he doesn’t mean to say that he’s trying to exchange his training wheels for the full model he used to have, doesn’t mean to say he’s trying to get an A+ on his little-brother-caretaking test so he can get the real one back, doesn’t mean to say he’d rather Dapper be locked up in that one little room, petted and puppied for months on end, instead of Trick, but -
Anti really is the only one who wants him. He may as well try to help Dok get his Trick back.
White-faced and bitter, Dapper turns his face towards Anti, and frees his hands.
“I’m sorry, Anti,” he says. “I walked too far down an alleyway and a dog jumped out and scared me badly. I turned back without thinking. I was a coward. Next time I will drive it away.”
Anti draws back slightly.
Assessing.
florenceisfalling asked: anti, isn't this a good thing? better than him letting animals touch him or get near him, right?
“Mm-hm, mm-hm,” murmurs Anti, chewing on his lip. “If he’s telling the truth.”
Dapper does not pale. Dapper does not tremble. Dapper does not look away.
Dapper looks his master in the eyes and lies.
nikkilbook asked: It was our fault. You left us alone with them for twenty minutes and we did what we did best. We poked and we prodded until the boys broke, and Dapper put them back together again. Better this mess than that one.
“Broke? My Red, my Blue? My strong boys?” He glances back at the twins, standing in the doorway. “No, no… I don’t think that’s right.”
Anonymous asked: Oh shoot, Dap, you actually told him the truth! It's okay, Anti will understand. It's good you did tell him what happened. And next time you'll know.
“Hm, hm,” says Anti, beginning to circle the mattress. Dok avoids his gaze, whitening as he comes closer, holding Dapper to his chest. The color of Dapper’s eyes is less like starlight and more like steel. “Yes, yes, next time you’ll know… you know better than to lie to Anti, don’t you, Dapper?”
“Yes, Anti.”
Anti’s eyes change from black to a very vivid green.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, it was an honest to goodness mistake on Lil' Dap's part. He isn't reckless with his abilities, is he?
“Lil Dap,” repeats Anti, and a smile fills up his face. “Haha! Aww, you are my little Dapper, aren’t you? Baby, puppy? Tiny little boy, cute little mute baby.”
Dapper is digging his nails into the palms of his hands.
cest-mellow asked: anti you can’t blame him for getting scared, it honestly came from no where, scared me too! i’m just glad he didn’t get bit, feral dogs can have rabies you know
“Ugh, yuck,” hisses Anti, drawing slightly back, wiping his hands on his pants. “This city is fucking filthy. I hate those fucking dogs everywhere. With the skin and the bugs in their - ugh.”
He shakes his head and snarls, turning away.
“Little brother,” says Red gently. “Maybe we should do this later.”
“No,” snaps Anti, grabbing at his hair again. “Shut up. Go to your room and finish eating your dinner. I’ll need you again tomorrow and the two of you at least must be good, or I’ll throw all of you little bastards out. Now.”
Red and Blue exchange glances but not protests. Red pulls Blue away. His twin’s eyes are fixed on Dapper’s.
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Would you be able to tell if he's lying, Anti?
“I can tell everything about him,” whispers Anti.
His voice is an echo. It drips from the ceilings. It swims through the air. It bounces from wall to wall, disembodied.
“I know the person he was and the person I made him into. I know every valley of his brain, know the pattern of his thoughts, know the taste of his fear. Know the ways he comes and goes, sane some days, a little psycho the next.”
Doktor’s breath hitches slightly and he turns away, afraid to show anger to Anti.
Dapper’s too tired to be hurt. He stares up at Anti, blank-faced.
“You always have been a good little liar,” says Anti distantly, coming to stand right above him. “But not to me, child. Not to me.”
Anonymous asked: Wait Anti a while back when you said you like own time and forced it to kiss you...ew.... were you referring to dapper?? and why do you even do that in the first place that's messed up dude just sayin
Anti crouches down beside Dapper and Doktor.
His youngest puppet is pressed back against the doctor. Someone else might mistake it for hiding, but Dapper is no longer holding Dok for the comfort. His body is in front of his brother’s. He protects Doktor. He protects Doktor from Anti.
For a long time, Anti just looks him in the eyes.
“Yes, I was referring to Dapper,” he says. “Of course I was. My little time traveler. Yes, I’ve made time kiss me. I’ve made it sing my praises and give up everything it used to love for my sake. It didn’t have much of a choice, but that is not what matters. What matters now is that it belongs to me.”
Anti sets his hand on Doktor’s thigh and leans close over the both of them, his chest flush with Dapper’s. The youngest brother can no longer bear the weight of his green-eyed gaze; flushing, Dapper turns away, avoiding the eyes of the snake.
“Doesn’t it, Jay?”
Something visceral and agonizing rises up like acid in Dapper’s throat, and in that moment he is so close to remembering everything that hovers around the edges of his time-travel-hazed mind, so close to putting back a piece of himself that he’s been trying to find for weeks now, so close to being a person who does not belong to Anti.
Fuck, does it hurt.
Memories of his lips pressed to Anti’s cheeks, his hands teasing and begging for affection, being cradled like a child to Anti’s chest, hiding behind his big brother for comfort, letting him cut into him and tie him to his bed post, a raven he loved being shoved out a window, and a half-dozen faces only vaguely familiar, stained bright in red - only some of the people Anti told him to kill, and fuck, but his knife was glad to have something to do other than sitting in that room.
“Give me a kiss,” says Anti. “And I’ll put this behind me.”
His voice is sugar-sweet and Dapper could gag. He knows he’s being mocked. He knows that Anti can feel the dissatisfaction, the revolution, sitting painful in his chest. But if he can be convinced to obey despite a little discontent, despite a little doubt, Anti will believe that he is not a threat, and Dapper can go back to playing puppet, and maybe it won’t hurt so much.
Doktor is shaking against him.
Anti grabs his chin in his hands, tight enough to bruise, and he yanks Dapper’s head back towards him, forcing him to meet endless green eyes.
“Give me a kiss,” says Anti, smiling so fucking wide, so fucking cruel, and something in Jameson’s chest hates him. “Give me a kiss and you can have a quiet night with your Dok-Dok, and nobody has to get h - ”
Dapper strikes him, hard, in the face.
whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Jameson jackson you absolute savage
Anti reels away from his youngest puppet, halfway tumbling off Doktor’s lap, blood dripping down his nose as his form flickers. Doktor screams aloud, shocked, and grabs Dapper tighter to his chest, pinning his arms down as best he can.
His little brother is laughing like a maniac, without sound, without joy.
Anonymous asked: FUCK. DAP REVERSE. REVERSEREVERSEREVERSE
“No,” giggles Dapper, squirming in Doktor’s grip. “I don’t think I will.”
“You fucking bitch!” screams Anti, and a hunting knife appears in his hands, thicker than his arm is wide. “I’m going to kill you!”
Doktor cries out and curls his body over Dapper’s, panic exploding through his chest. “No, Anti, please, please! Blue! Red! Somebody, please!”
“Why the hell are you screaming for them? Like they can save you from me? Stupid little brat!”
Anti grabs Doktor’s shirt and drags him off Dapper’s body, digging his fingers into Dapper’s hair and pulling him to his feet. Dapper screams by drawing air in, clawing at his hair as Anti pulls him up for the second time tonight, this time pressing a blade into the center of his collarbone, drawing a stream of blood.
Anonymous asked: Oh god Anti you broke him
“He’s always been goddamn broken!” shrieks Anti, throwing him onto the mattress and giving Dapper back the blow that he gave him twice as hard, slapping him so that his handprint appears on his cheek. Dapper whistles shrilly and turns to his side, but he will not turn back, he will not turn back. Wouldn’t fix anything anyway, he’d just be in more trouble for the power surge.
And anyway, he fucking deserves it.
“Kill me, then, fucking coward!” signs Dapper, and Anti grabs him again and throws him back onto his back. “Think I’m scared to die, master?”
“Traitorous little weapon! You think I won’t kill you? Is that what you think? You think I can’t make you beg me to take you back into my bed again, huh? If I think for a moment that you are past saving, if you belong to that stupid fucking boy again, I will fucking crucify you and make your brothers laugh at the sight of you nailed to our doorway. Do you understand me?”
“I understand that you’re a bitch.”
And then he’s being struck, again, and again, and again, and the wound on his side is weeping, and so are his blueing eyes, as he comes to understand that everything he has denied about the brother he adores is true - Anti is cruel, Anti keeps him captive, Anti would kill him to prevent him from ever being free.
“I served you well,” sob his hands, though he doubts Anti is reading. “I’ve always served you well. You are the one who took your love away, master. You are the one who betrayed me.”
“Anti!” screams Doktor, by now in full-blown hysterics. “Anti, Anti! Please, oh, God, Sh’ma, Sh’ma! Red! Blue! Trickshot, help me!”
pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, you gotta move and get the two of you out of there.
“I have to - I have to stop this, I can’t get him out, I can’t - what can I say to - ”
Realization hits Doktor like a train and he acts without further thought. In a second he is clinging to Anti’s shoulders as his brother beats Dapper’s blood into the mattress, crying out. “Anti, it’s not him! It’s not him, it’s not his fault! It’s one of his episodes, he’s psychotic, he can’t help it! He might even think you’re his old master!”
Anti’s hand is pressing Dapper down by the throat. He does not look up at Doktor. His pupils are blown, his face frigid white, his mouth shaking. But his pressure, at least a little, relinquishes.
“One - one of his episodes? A snap, you mean?”
Dapper trembles beneath his hands, his blue eyes hurting.
Anonymous asked: Oh shit. Dapper I hope you know what you’re doing!
Dapper stares up at Doktor and Anti, towering over him.
He whines and closes his eyes and sinks back down into the mattress, tears sliding down his cheeks. His anger is cold and it stings at his face; his hurt is deeper, burrowing down far into his chest. His master really does hate him, and he’ll never be or even remember the person that he used to be, and Doktor - Doktor - Doktor shouldn’t use his psychosis like that, like it makes his decisions any less his own. It’s not his to use as a lie. Dapper’s head is clearer than it’s been in months. The only thing fogging his head now is grief and this great wall of power that has so long blocked out chunks of memories and control. He’s beginning to understand where Trick was coming from more and more with every day.
He wishes he were here now. That’s who he wants, Trick, who hated it when Dapper was treated like a puppy just as much as Dapper does. Trick who loved him as an equal but protected him like a brother.
No, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
But he doesn’t want to get hit anymore. So he closes his eyes, and turns his face from Anti’s, and lets Doktor speak on his behalf, because no one is listening anyway.
“But he’s not hallucinating or thinking we’re someone we’re not,” Anti is protesting, glancing between Dapper and Doktor.
“Well, it’s hard to be sure,” coaxes Doktor, sounding professional, though his voice trembles minutely. Maybe Dap isn’t the only good liar around. “And you know sometimes it’s not hallucinations, sometimes with him it’s paranoia. Yes? You remember when he was so convinced Red would hurt him, the last time.”
“He nearly killed him,” mumbles Anti, brushing disarrayed hair from his eyes.
“But we got him back on his medication and helped him get down from the snap, and he was back to being okay again. Trusting you and everything, you know. Most likely he is just psychotic again. It’s not his fault, really. Besides, Anti, look, look, this wound in his side - you will hurt him more badly than you intend, master.”
Anti draws back from Dapper a little more, his eyes fading to blue. “But he’s on his medication,” he protests, and suddenly his voice is weak as a blade of grass. “You told me you were making sure he takes it. You - how can I - if both of them are broken like this - ”
“Maybe we can try something new,” suggests Doktor, trying to be reassuring. He dares to rub his hand over Anti’s shoulder, and Anti, looking distinctly frazzled, leans slightly back into the warmth of his palm.
Doktor puts his head against Anti’s shoulder. The pressure is warm and secure.
“Can’t look after everyone,” admits Anti, in a whisper.
“I’ll help you,” promises Doktor, just as soft, and the earnestness in his voice is almost painfully raw. “If you just let me, Anti. Just let me see - ”
“No,” Anti cuts him off, his voice clearer, and Doktor sinks wearily against his back, sighing. “No. Maybe someday. But not now. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk any of this. I finally have everything I want. I’m going to keep it.”
One of his hands resumes a little pressure on Dapper’s throat. The other is running through his hair, meant to be soothing.
“Poor boy, breaking down again,” mumbles Anti. “I’ll put it right again. I’ll fix you again. I’ve done it more than once now, haven’t I? Stupid boy. It’s okay. We’ll fix you.”
Anonymous asked: Do it Anti, and you lose your most valuable weapon. No more reversing time, no more do overs. The boys leave or die they're gone, no way to fix it. So prove you're not a coward, Anti. Carpe diem, glitch bitch.
Anti gets to his feet, glancing at the camera for a moment, his eyes skimming the message. He turns to look between the temporary set of twins - Doktor rushes forward to try and tend to his little brother, rubbing at Dapper’s shoulders.
Anti crouches back down again, just for a second, and he pulls Dapper’s face towards him, and looks him in the eyes.
“I want you to know something,” he says, his voice very, very low. Dapper shakes beneath his grip.
“You are a very powerful child. You are my favorite weapon and I benefit greatly from your help. That is all true.
“But if I ever think for a single moment that I cannot save you from - from - ”
Anti doesn’t know what to call him.
“The boy,” offers Dapper softly. “The boy you are afraid of.”
It pauses Anti for a moment.
And then he leans forward again.
“I am afraid of him enough that if I ever believed he was taking you from me, I will kill you.”
Doktor is clinging to Dapper’s shoulder. There are tears running down his face.
“I will kill you before I let him turn you against me. That is also true. Do. You. Understand?”
Dapper’s had enough.
Dapper’s had enough for one night.
“Yes, Anti.”
“Good.”
Anonymous asked: Dok whatever happens please do not leave Dapper’s side
“Aww, that’s sweet,” purrs Anti, stepping back. “You want to stay by your little brother, Dok, is that it? Huh?”
“Y-yes, Anti, I need to clean him up.”
“You do, yes. And start thinking about his medication, I want something to fix this by tomorrow. But after you’ve got him all patched up, you’ll hand him over to me, and then his twin has to be punished.”
Doktor pauses, looking up at Anti. “His twin?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought… Dapper didn’t have…”
Anti stares at him, impatient with his stupidity. Something cold rushes over Doktor’s chest.
“Is Trick your twin right now?” asks Anti, like he’s explaining something to a five-year-old.
“No, Anti,” whispers Doktor.
“Who did I give you to look after?”
“Dapper, Anti.”
“And when you fail to look after your twin, and your twin does something stupid and gets in trouble, how do we correct things around here?”
His throat is so fucking dry.
“You punish the twin, Anti.”
“Clean him up. You can spend the night in the shed. Should have known you weren’t capable of having a twin anymore. Tonight, Dapper will stay with me and Trickshot. We’re going to play puppies again. They’re right, Trick needs someone else to be with, and it can’t be you, Dok, so we’ll go back to the way things were in the beginning, when my two littlest boys were so head-over-heels for me they could barely breathe without my permission. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Doktor can’t breathe at all.
“Doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Anti,” he wheezes, and his hands shake as he pulls the first aid kit away from its place against the wall.
Anonymous asked: What, so Dok is going to be twinless after tomorrow? It's like you're trying to fix glass with a jackhammer.
“Red was twinless for a long time. And he was fine afterwards. I can rearrange again when Trick and Dapper are behaving better.”
Anonymous asked: Anti wait, he did protect him! He stopped you from killing him! He’s cleaned up dapper and made sure that he’s as healthy as he possibly can be considering his wounds, y’know the ones YOU gave him? He can only protect him as much as he can, especially when you’re the one attacking him! If anything he’s been faithful enough to let you have your way with Dap until there was a possibility that you would have gone too far.
“He should have kept Dapper in line in the fucking first place! Everyone in this house knows that Dapper’s been slipping more and more every day, and what did Doktor do about it? Coddle him and let him roam wild while he grieved over a brother who’s still alive!”
Anti backs away, resisting the urge to kick them both.
“That’s enough. Clean him up. That’s the only thing you’re halfway good for.”
And he vanishes as though he was never there, leaving only the smell of electricity behind.
nikkilbook asked: My dudes, you can be together and AWAY FROM HIM. What does he even do? Slap you around and stab you for doing literally what he told you to do? Drive you to suicide and punish you for it? What can he give you that you can’t give each other? Dude’s a royal prick if you ask me.
“Sh, sh, please,” whispers Doktor. “We can’t just… Anti is temperamental, but we can’t just… there’s no choice, we… please, sh, sh…”
He glances over his shoulder, but Anti has vanished, and he is alone with Dapper, shaking beneath his hands, his eyes shell-shocked and grieving. He pulls the old, bloodied bandage off Dapper’s back, eliciting a low, agonized whine.
“I’m so sorry,” Dok mumbles, brushing his hands over his hair. You don’t know who he’s talking to.
Anonymous asked: Honestly though, that took a lot of gut back there to do that Dapper and I’m super proud of you. Learning to stand up for yourself is super important, and just so we’re clear, it is not a psychotic tendency.
Dapper’s bleeding mouth opens into a small smile. “Thank you,” he signs frailly, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of Dok patching his skin back together. “No, it’s not psychosis. Sometimes Anti says snap and he means psychosis, but sometimes he says snap and what he means is self-defense.”
“Dap, please,” begs Doktor. “Stop, stop talking like that.”
“What’s he going to do? Beat me again?”
“Yes,” snaps Doktor, brushing his hand over his hair. To his surprise, Dap pulls away slightly, closing his eyes.
“Angry with me?” asks Dok, in a whisper.
Dapper doesn’t answer. Tears are sliding down Dok’s cheeks.
“Like everybody else?”
At that, Dapper turns, his eyes flickering, and suddenly the grief in his brother’s eyes looks like it will consume him, and Dapper’s pain seems to vanish, replaced by fear for his Deutsch.
“I was trying to protect you,” chokes Dok, his face losing all color as the band-aid flutters out of his hands. He can no longer hold it. “I’m always - always trying to protect you and everyone, heal when I c-can - but I can’t do anything right and - I can’t - f-forgive me, I - ”
Dapper drags his aching body up and throws himself at Doktor, pulling him tight to his chest and hugging him close, close, close, and Doktor breaks down against his shoulder.
Dapper took a beating to avoid kissing Anti’s face. Now, he buries himself against Doktor and smothers his face with kisses, clutching him close, suddenly vividly aware of the fact that the two of them are, for all that Anti plays at Dapper being the smallest, exactly the same size.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” cries Doktor.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” answers Dapper. “I’m so sorry that what I did hurt you, that’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to go away from you. Maybe I can convince Anti to give me back soon?”
“No, no,” whimpers Doktor, rubbing tears from his eyes. “You must do nothing to anger him, nothing to object. Don’t worry about big brother for a moment, that’s not your duty.”
“It is my duty. Just because I’m a little younger does not make me any less your guardian. The hierarchy here is just another something Anti made up to - ”
“Sh, sh, please,” begs Doktor. “Please, for my sake, stop. Just lie down, honey. Let me take care of you, just for a moment. It may be the last time for a long time that I have the chance, and it is the only thing now that I can do for you.”
Distressed, Dapper nevertheless lies down. “I love you,” promise his hands, fixed atop his heart. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” whispers Doktor. “Whatever Anti makes you forget, do not forget that, my brother.”
cest-mellow asked: red? blue? did you hear any of that??
You find Red and Blue in their room, side-by-side and looking exhausted. Blue is hidden beneath Red’s arm, clutching at his bruising throat. They are curled around each other in the corner. Red’s eyes roam from the door to the window, from the door to the window, from the door to the window, cause these days all he does is expect an attack and protect what he can.
He meets your gaze.
“We didn’t hear anything,” he tells you lowly, clinging to Blue’s shirt. Outside the window, you can hear Doktor crying out.
Anonymous asked: What’s the shed? Is it kinda like the basement in the old house?
The shed sits just behind the house, a metallic structure more like an upside down trash and recycling unit than anything else. There isn’t a real door, just a wooden slat placed in front of a gaping hole and locked up tight when Anti doesn’t need it open. In the daytime, the metal is hot as hell, and the walls can’t be touched, and being inside it is like being baked alive. The boys try not to complain, though - the shed is a temporary place of residence, and there are people in these mountains who live in even smaller ones for their whole lives, nursing children on the dirt outside to avoid the crushing heat.
Anti leaves a camera to keep an eye on Doktor, and so you find him before you - strung up by a chain collar like he’s been hung, but low enough that the front pads of his feet can stand on the dirty ground. With the help of his arms, he can pull himself up enough to get a few deep breaths of air every few minutes.
He does not cry. His face is calm. The ground around him is littered with glue traps, and you can see mice squirming through their death throes at his feet.
“Yeah, you’re right on,” he mumbles, trying to push himself up, his calves already aching. “Seems no matter where we go, some things never change.”
Anonymous asked: Be safe, please.. -PF!H
Doktor tries to stay calm, because he knows that you’re watching. He stands strong and works to take deep, steady breaths. He will be able to stand this for some hours, as he knows from experience, but he hopes that by morning he will be let down - otherwise he may begin to suffocate.
spicydanhowell asked: uhh dok... do you ever think about suicide? i'm just wondering... you've kind of been through a lot
“Mmh,” groans Dok, straining, glad for any company, for anyone to talk to, even if he will only be able to keep it up for a few hours. “Well, everybody thinks about that sometimes, don’t they? But we have to keep living. What would happen to the others without me? What would happen to Trick? No, you don’t have to worry about that with me, you must focus on the others. Don’t worry, don’t worry. Not going to do anything like that, not anywhere other than my dreams, anyway. And even then, I don’t mean it, and it makes me cry, to see my body stretched out on the ground like that - ungh, fuck…”
He lets himself back down again. Deep breath in. Deep sigh out. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he mutters, rubbing his own shoulders like he’s hugging himself.
Anonymous asked: Great job, Anti. Are you really going to hurt your baby brother over something he can't control? He always wanted to do his best by you, and this is how you repay that love?
You find Anti, to your surprise, in the entry area, where Dok’s set up his clinic. He’s sorting through Red and Blue’s backpacks, a computer set on the table beside him. Every time he pulls out another bottle of pills or package of gauze or iodine ointment, you see a new line pop up on the screen. He’s taking inventory, apparently.
“Are we really doing this again?” he snaps, not even looking up at you. You don’t know how he read the message. “‘Oh, Anti, you’re so evil and rude and you mistreat your poor little idiots so much!’ Get over yourselves! Stop pretending I give a fuck about your opinions!
Anyway, Dapper’s been acting like a fucking brat for weeks now. Guess he can’t stand that Trick’s taken up all his time with his master, spoiled little whore. No, he’s never cared about what’s best for anybody but himself. Half the time I think he only plays nice to keep himself alive. He’s a little actor, that child. You should have seen him when I first kidnapped him. He was a slyer opponent than any of his brothers, I admit it. He could make himself seem like a naive, helpless, terrified little animal while hiding a knife behind his back at the same time… no, he won’t slip away from me now, no matter the cost…”
cest-mellow asked: anti, sometimes no matter how close doctors watch their patients medication, they can still take a random turn. one day the meds work fine and the next they don’t work, maybe dap’s body got so used to the haldol that he just needs a med change. this isn’t doktors fault, you KNOW how protective he is of his brother’s and how loyal he is to you. do you really think he’d ever do something like that, or let something like that happen, on purpose?
“And I - well, I know that,” admits Anti, grumbling, a little abashed. “But he should have taken that into account! And he’s been letting Dapper run around with Blue and Red and letting him spend most of the day wandering outside or even - ugh, I caught him chasing after some of those damn chickens that are wandering around. With the dirty little children, even. He should have been keeping a much closer eye on him, but all he can think about is Trick.
“Besides, it doesn’t matter if it’s his fault or not. Dapper did something wrong, so the twin bears the punishment. It’s the most effective part of this system, you know. That’s how I finally got Red in line. He wouldn’t stop fighting me until he couldn’t bear to watch Dapper cry anymore.”
Anonymous asked: Please don’t punish dok too harshly, he really did try to take care of dapper the best he could
“Not well enough. That is all that matters.”
Anonymous asked: Anti, don’t you think you’re being a little hard on Dok? I mean he’s giving his all and he’s human, he’s bound to make mistakes but he seems to be determined to fix them. You have to remember that he’s mental sorta fellow, he likes to talk facts y’know? He’s the reason you have what you have in the first place, he basically got Marvin to come home right? He’s not a failure, we just all work differently and he might not be in the right environment to excel the way you want him to.
“I… I feel like none of them are in exactly the right environment anymore. I don’t know what changed, but it changed with that night on the beach and Trick snapping… If I can just put him back together, things will go back to being better again. But for now I can’t do anything more for Doktor. Trick and Dapper have to be my focus. Dok’s functional enough.”
Anonymous asked: anti you just really like being in control huh? you know, none of the others are going to think any less of you or "fear" you less if you let dok go. seriously they'll be so much more thankful to you if you don't hurt him. dap might be extra appreciative too?
“Mmhhh,” grumbles Anti, beginning to be agitated. “No. Rules are rules. He will still resent me even if I give his Doktor back. He would just have someone to commiserate with, to rant at. Doktor’s probably been fueling his paranoia with his useless whining for Trick all day. No wonder Dapper’s brain begin to tell him I was the enemy.” He hisses, gnawing on his lips.
Anonymous asked: "Aren't you one to talk since you and your puppets sound so unhappy all the time you have to threaten them to make them stay with you.. I hate to break it to you, but in regards to your response to my master's message you're too biased to have an opinion on how he's doing. And that's coming from me." -PF!H.
“Well, little one, then you form your own opinion, and let me know if you find anything less than the grief and the regret that I see in your precious master.”
spicydanhowell asked: you're punishing dok because he's not controlling carver.... but aren't you supposed to be controlling carver??? are you admitting that he's too much for you to handle? and then you expect /doktor/ to be able to handle him?? that really makes no sense at all. you're just pinning your own failure on someone else rather than owning your incompetence.
“That’s why I’m taking him back to my side,” replies Anti coolly. “I had hoped Dok would be able to look after somebody, but clearly not. You’re quite right. Dapper should be under my arm and no one else’s. That’s the last time I give him someone else to play with.”
Anonymous asked: okay but red isn’t dok they’re not the same person
“So you admit Doktor is weaker than Red?”
Anonymous asked: You're really keen on saying you don't care when you're going so out of your way to explain it, you know. Just saying.. -PF!H
Anti growls, shoving another handful of medicine into a cabinet with a padlock on it.
juju-on-that-yeet asked: Maybe Dapper's brain is telling him that you're the enemy because...ya know...you are. You really can't pretend you aren't, not to us.
Anti’s mouth curls up into a small, self-satisfied smile.
“Mmh… haha. Kind of funny, I almost miss the days when at least some of them knew I was worth hating. Maybe I’m too deep in my own head. What would it really matter if I lost Trick? I’d figure it out with the other four. Be a shame not to have the full set, but might be better than trying so hard to fix something so shattered.
“Yes, I guess I should remember myself a little. But I’m sure Dap’s just having a psychotic episode. Even a little world-shaker like that kid couldn’t get his head free from all the work I’ve done on him for more than a year now.”
Anonymous asked: Anti, please listen to me. You think Jack made you to be hated, and useless, and wrong. He didn't, I promise you he didn't. He made you to be awe-striking. He made you to be powerful, and alluring, and beautiful. He made you to be loved, loved so much that we would write stories for you, stories where you are happy. Draw pictures of you, make videos about you, make you known in our world. We love you so much, Anti. There has to be something in you that can return that.
Anti snickers without humor. “Ha, you’re funny… He didn’t even mean to create me. Everything that’s worthwhile about myself actually comes from - ”
He cuts himself off, his mouth thinning.
“You’re all stupid little children.”
And then he’s mocking you, his mouth in a wide smile, his eyes flashing, and he looks like Jack, he looks like Jack just to fucking taunt you -
“’Oh, Anti, we love you so much, look how we adore you, look how your mouth fills up with power every time we say your name, every time your image curves across a sketch pad or fills up the lines of a document’ - don’t you think you’re all a little obsessive? Do you remember the first time you saw me?”
And he is a boy with dark green hair and a black t-shirt, holding a long kitchen knife in one hand, his eyes blank as he lifts it towards his throat and begins to dig -
“You were afraid,” says a voice that does not come from his mouth, as he slowly slits open his own throat. “But most of all, you were thrilled, and you shouted and rejoiced, drew me and wrote my name, even fucking thirsted after me, hahaha! It was so funny, the power almost made me suffocate! And it was wonderful and warm and I had everything I ever wanted, and that was because of you, little fools, that was all because of you.”
He drops the knife suddenly and the illusion falters.
And he is himself again, panting on the floor of the clinic, hurt by his own reminiscing.
“Love,” he hisses, just soft, to himself. “Love.”
the-weirdest-fan asked: Kind of a random question, but Anti, when you possess someone, can you see his thoughts? Can you just dig through someone's brain to get any information you want or..? Sorry for all the questions, you and your powers are just really fascinating!
Anti quiets a little, drawing himself back up and returning to his inventory.
>Three rolls of bandages.
>One oxygen mask.
>Large box of syringes.
“In a sense, yes, and in a sense, no. It’s more like a feeling. Nothing about thought is explicit, you know. To me, everything just looks like neurons firing, and it comes with this… sensation of thought, I suppose. So if Trickshot was distressed while I was wearing him, I would be aware of that, and I could most likely understand why enough to guess at his thoughts - I turn our gaze to Dok, he feels fear, I guess that he’s afraid his brother will be hurt. And I could actually dig down to memory sensations, if I wanted, and get images and sensations and that sort of thing out of someone’s brain. But then again, you have to be careful with memories. Humans never remember anything quite right. It’s always changed by the way they perceived it, the way they stored the memory, the things they learned afterwards that have warped it in their minds… but for the most part, yes, a person is quite transparent to me when I’m inside their head.”
Anonymous asked: Antiiiiiiiii wHeN wIlL yOu LeArN ThAt yOuR aCtIoNs hAvE CoNsEquEnCeS— stop saying you’ll fix him!!! He’ll end up just like Trick!
“No, you’re wrong!” snaps Anti, looking, for all his talk, a little frightened again. “You don’t understand anything! Dapper’s always been my little pet, ever since I broke him in. Nothing’s going to take him away from me, least of all his own hands.”
For a moment, he softens again, digging peacefully through the backpack. “You know,” he says, almost fondly. “He actually is such a tough little creature, for all that I tease him. You should see him tussle. Even with me, he’s a little ferocity, snapping his teeth and - ”
Anti gasps aloud, dropping the bottle of pills he’d just picked up back into the bag as if it had burned him.
He kneels over the backpack, panting, clutching at his chest.
On the computer screen: >One bottle of Percocet.
Anti sits there for a long time, gripping at his jeans, his eyes clear and blue.
And then he heaves like he’s going to throw up, and turns away from you gagging, trying, without success, to drag himself to his feet.
Anonymous asked: Can't take the blame, can you? Figued as much. You're too much of a coward to face that the damage that's been done to your self-proclaimed family was only worsened when you took them from their old lives. Broke them. Made them into hollow shells of who they were meant to be. The funny part, you know.. Is that you think this eill make you feel like you're important, or worth something. Noboy wanted you so your forced people to. Kind of sad, isn't it? - PF!A
Anti screams aloud, slamming his fist down on the clinic floor. Glitches pierce through the air as well as the camera screen, making the whole house shudder, and you hear scrambling as Blue and Red hide beneath their mattresses in the other room, tucked close together, and they love each other more than Anti has ever been loved by a single thing in his whole life.
Blood spits down Anti’s chin as he shakes.
His hatred is eating him alive.
Anonymous asked: ...Look.. ..I do pity you, you know. God knows I understand having such a terrible upbringing like you did. As much as your actions make me want to hate you.. I don't. I really don't. There's still time to fix all this. ACTUALLY fix all this. You know that. This way of living isn't just hurting the others, but you as well. It doesn't have to be this way. That love the fans gave you was hollow, you know. It doesn't have to be, if you decide to change for the better. -PF!A
Anti is bent over the clinic sink, heaving as blood drizzles down his chin. His eyes are black as starlessness and his arms shake as they struggle to hold him up.
“I don’t want,” he whispers, licking copper from his mouth. “Your fucking pity.”
And his body flickers out of your sight, gone from every camera in the house.
 End Section Two of Chapter Two.
Find the next section here.
16 notes · View notes
artistic-writer · 5 years
Text
Forged in Ireland
Tumblr media
Title: Forged in Ireland by @artistic-writer Rating: P for penis innuendo and T for its real rating. Summary: Humourous Forged in Fire AU. Four novice bladesmiths, three of them Irish, compete in one of the toughest competitions of its type, Forged in Fire. Killian Jones, his brother Liam Jones, Graham Humbert and David Nolan. Who will win? Who has the skills to best the other men? A/N: Thank you to my kickass beta, @hollyethecurious - I’m posting this for @kmomof4 who i promised a fic to yesterday, but them posted a whump fic instead.  No one dies in this one ;)
Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @doodlelolly0910 @darkcolinodonorgasm
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame."- John Hurt
They had never met until now, apart from Killian and Liam, who were brothers. Graham, a tall, curly haired, blue-eyed bulk of a man, was also from Ireland. The three of them had made it through to round two of one of the toughest competitions currently aired on American television. Forged in Fire. Four bladesmiths competing against the clock for the grand prize, which, as they had all learned when the fourth competitor, David, had been eliminated, was much tougher than they had anticipated.
“We’re sorry, David, but your blade did not make the cut.”
Red-faced and in slight shock, David had gathered his tools and left the studio, or the forge as it was known. He hung his head as he walked out of the room, metal tools rattling in his tool bag, lifting it again as he had been instructed by the production team. They were going to put a slow motion shot of him leaving and they wanted him looking tall and proud, his own opinion on getting eliminated voicing over the sequence.
“It’s tougher than you think, and I respect the judges. It was the right choice. I just didn’t make the best knife today and that’s okay because I’ve learned a lot.”
“David’s knife was good,” Graham whispered to Liam, their forges right next to each other back in the studio. “I thought I was going for sure.”
“Aye,” Liam muttered under his breath with a nod, setting his footing into a wider stance behind his anvil.
“This is tough,” Killian whispered to both of them, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his words.
“Bladesmiths!” Wil Willis bellowed out over the forge, making all three men turn to face him. “Round two,” he grinned devilishly. Killian gulped. “You have three hours in which to attach handles to your weapons using the items offered to you,” he motioned to the well-dirtied metal racking in the corner of the room, stacked with offcuts of all kinds of materials, “turning them into fully functioning weapons for our judges tests, which include a rope slice and sleeper chop.” Liam, Killian, and Graham all followed the motion of his arm, eyes scanning the pieces of odd materials. “But,” he added dramatically, and they all returned their gaze to him. “They must include a guard and an element from this.”
They all held their breath as the host reached for the silky red sheet covering an oddly shaped object. With a flick of his wrist, the material fell away to reveal a huge, brass ship propeller sitting neatly on the table in front of them.
“Oh, Jesus,” Graham uttered, his words lost on a chuckle.
Killian looked over to his brother, both ex-naval men, and smirked. It was ironic, in a strange way, that the thing that had carried them across oceans would now, potentially, sink them.
“Bladesmiths, your three hours begins...now!” Willis yelled and all three men scurried to the pantry.
“I have no idea what I am going to do,” Graham mumbled to himself. His blade had received the most attention from the judges because of a slight warp in his tang. He could fix this easily by hiding his tang in a cylinder of material as a through tang, but which to choose? His eye scanned the shelves, flitting back and forth before he fixed his gaze on some deer antler. It was big enough to drill and shape into a comfortable handle, so he grabbed it before either Jones brother had a chance to.
Killian went to the top shelf immediately, spying some Micarta. It was one of the strongest materials and would stand up to the tests set out by the judges, but as he reached for it, so did Liam. They both looked at each other with a smirk, fingers holding the grey material tight.
“Age before beauty, brother,” Killian quipped with a wry grin, releasing his hold on the scale.
“No, no, I insist,” Liam said with a nod, offering Killian the piece. “Shit before the shovel, little brother.” He’d uttered the words under his breath, and they would probably be edited out of the final cut of the show, but it was mostly lost in Killian’s laugh. “Here, take it. For your little knife,” he smiled.
“I assure you, brother,” Killian began, pushing the Micarta back into Liam’s hand. “My knife, much like other things, will be much bigger than yours.”
Liam took the Micarta with a smirk, heading back to his workbench, whilst Killian grabbed some African Blackwood. It was strong and would fit his blade well, the rustic, camp knife style with a Celtic twist. Traditionally, Celtic knives were shorter, more like a small dagger, with a single loop handle and leather wrapped handle, but the shows specifications meant he had to go bigger. Killian had made a Viking Seax, a single edged blade with, traditionally, a handle made of natural materials, a knife style that had a reputation as a great chopper.
“I’ve made a Seax. It’s strong, and it’s a great chopping blade that will knock my brother right out of the competition. I’m going to cut off a piece of the prop, flatten it out and slide it between the scales and my tang, giving my handle a third layer.”
Killian ran to the tool bench, eyes searching over the dusty surface until he found what he was looking for. The grinder, fitted with a diamond cutting disc, was in his grasp before he could blink, and he then ran to the propeller in the front of the forge.
“Looks like Killian is taking a huge chunk of that flat edge side of the prop,” said David Baker, historic weapons expert and advisor to Hollywood.
“He is most likely going to flatten it out and use it somewhere in his handle,” J. Nielsen, another of the judges, pointed out, watching Killian whizz across the room with the section of propeller he had ground off.
Killian was at his anvil in a second, gripping the brass in his tongs and whacking it flat with his blacksmith’s hammer. The sound of metal on metal rang out, a bead of sweat on Killian’s brow falling to his anvil. The forge was hot, heat from the four propane forges still lingering in the air, and with each collision to his anvil, Killian felt the ricochet in his wrist and his forearm.
“Hitting that brass a little hard there, brother?” Liam teased, brushing past Killian with his own part of the propeller. He had popped off the boss cap, unscrewing the bolt that held the shaft in place, testing the weight in his hands. “When are you going to learn that hitting something harder doesn’t always yield the best results.”
“And when are you going to learn, brother,” Killian began, grinning from ear to ear with a filthy smirk. “The force from a hammer is proportional to the size of the tool. I cannot be held accountable if my tool is bigger than yours.”
“So you say,” Liam sniggered, shaking his head at his brother’s cockiness.
“Have you ever heard a complaint?” Killian raised an eyebrow at his brother who met his comment with silence. “I didn’t think so.”
“Layers will add integrity as well as a sleekness to my blade. I’m going to slip the brass under the scales to give my knife a really sexy look, kind of like a brass vest under a wooden jacket.”
Once he had the brass as flat as he could get it, Killian got back to his table and set about tracing the holes of his tang so he could drill out the brass and African Blackwood. Killian knew Liam’s plan. He had already watched him put a thread on the end of his tang so he could just screw the brass bolt in place and shape it on the belt sander. It was ingenious, really, but Killian liked the challenge of creating the perfect handle for his blade.
Glancing to his right, Killian spotted a frown on Graham’s face.
“Uh oh,” Willis thought out loud, spying Graham’s mistake instantly. All three of the judges followed his nod of direction, sucking in mouthfuls of air through their teeth in a triple wince. “Looks like Graham has messed up his material.”
Graham, in his haste to repair his warped tang, had misjudged the size and angle of the hole needed in his deer antler and had managed to drill right through the side of it. He sighed audibly, shaking his head from side to side before swiping his hand over his brow. Antler dust stuck to his sweaty forehead and the muscles in his jaw ticked.
“You can fix it,” Killian encouraged, his voice shaking Graham from his self directed rage. “Get some dust and epoxy,” he instructed selflessly.
It was like a lightbulb went off in Graham’s brain and he rushed to the saw, gathering what dust he could so he could mix it with some epoxy resin and steel dust. His handle would be off colour, but it would be functional, and that was the most important part of the competition.
“Thanks, mate,” he called to Killian who simply gave him a nod of assurance.
“Did you see that?” Willis asked the judges, directing his question at Doug Marcaida, an edged weapons specialist. “Killian just helped his fellow competitor.”
“He’s a source of inspiration,” Doug nodded humbly. “Great men are forged in fire,” he began, pointing out Killian who continued to work on his blade handle with a stern focus. “It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame.”
“Did you just quote Doctor Who?” David Baker asked his colleague, aghast the man had delivered such a poetic quote from a TV show character.
“John Hurt,” Doug laughed. “As Doctor Who.”
All three men were at the same stage. The materials they had collected had been sized and cut into a rough shape using the huge bandsaw, and they are all currently hunched over their workbenches mixing epoxy. Two syringes full of the two resins were squeezed into each other on a flat surface, mixed with a flat spatula made of wood, the chemical reaction happening almost instantly. Graham added his dust to the epoxy, turning it into a lump consistency that wasn’t as easily spread over his tang as the glue Liam and Killian were using. They all rushed to get their handle scales in place, tapping them gently with a hammer.
“No, no, no!” Liam cursed, turning from his bench dramatically and running his steel greyed hands through his curled hair.
“Tap, tap, tap, crack. I’m done. Now my blasted brother is going to win.”
“Oh no,” one of the judges said. “Looks like Liam has broken one of his scales.”
Liam ground his jaw in frustration. He had hit the handle material too hard at just the wrong angle and it had snapped the top corner of his scale. He stared at his knife, shoulders tensed, fists balled in anger. In his anticipation to get his handle fixed he had lost his patience with tapping the delicate material with the hammer, chipping of a corner. It was a little too much to cover with some strategic sanding, so he had no choice but to start again.
“It’s going to be tricky getting those scales off now,” judge J. Nielsen told host Wil Willis. “His epoxy is already set.”
“Fuck!” Liam grunted, sure his outburst would most certainly not make a final cut.
Killian looked up from his own project, his brother’s cheeks pink with a mixture of heat and fury. He looked at Liam’s faux pas, sitting in front of his brother like a mockery of his skills, and his lips turned up into a smug grin.
“Problem, brother?” Killian taunted, looking back to his own work. His epoxy had set, fusing two brass plates between his tang and his outer wooden scales. It was perfect. All he had to do was sand it to shape.
Liam didn’t answer, punting his toe into the edge of his table.
“Shorten it,” Killian barked over the sound of Graham grinding his handle behind him. Liam looked over to him, raising an eyebrow in Jones brother fashion. “It’s only a tad, Liam,” Killian added, leaving his bench to pick up his brother’s knife. He pointed at the end, rubbing his grease covered thumbnail over the butt of Liam’s handle. “You can cut a smidge off, add an extra layer of new material and then thread your bolt on the end.”
Liam looked up at his brother, astounded by his commanding nature. He barely had time to respond before Killian thrust his knife back into his hands and Willis was announcing a time frame.
“Bladesmiths! You have thirty minutes remaining!”
Graham began humming a tune to himself as he pushed his knife handle against the sanding belt. Dust flew towards the floor and into his face, the mask he was wearing shielding his most from most of the splinters of antler. He was rushing, grinding in the wrong direction when all of a sudden the knife slipped from his grasp and his fingers were pushed against the coarse sanding belt, his knife point stabbing into his palm.
“Jesus, fuck!” He screeched, his Irish accent much thicker than it had been all day.
“Maybe, my reaction was bit drastic, but at least now I can say that literally my blood, sweat and tears are in that blade.”
“Oh, we got blood!” David Baker announced, tapping J.Nielsen’s arm in excitement.
“Is Graham going to need a medic?” Willis frowned, arching his neck to see more clearly.
“Are you alright, mate?” Killian asked Graham, his voice muffled behind his own face mask. He lifted his head, shutting off his machine to silence the screech of the belt, placing his knife on the bench beside it. “Is it bad?”
Graham hissed, clutching his hand to his chest. Killian motioned him closer and encouraged him to show him his hand, dark crimson flowing from his palm as soon as Graham opened it. Killian shook his head, looking up to catch the eye of Wil Willis, motioning with his arm.
“Can we get a medic in there?” Willis said, concern etched on his face.
Paramedics rushed to Graham’s aid. Liam downed his tools and for the first time ever, in the history of the entire show, the clock was stopped. Graham had sat on the floor under a medic’s instruction, and his leg was shaking, knee tapping the floor to distract from the pain throbbing through his hand.
“Is he going to be able to continue?” Baker thought out loud.
Graham was lost in a huddle of men, Killian pushed out by the circle by the medics. He looked over to Liam, his face pale, absolutely no colour in his cheeks, a solemn look on his face.
“When I reached Graham, I saw that his palm was sliced nearly to the back of his hand. His little pinkie finger was almost cut clean off, and the first thing I think is, he can’t possibly continue. The second thing is, that means it’s down to me and Liam. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad disappointed to be entering the final round because of an injury, but that won’t make besting my brother during the final any less satisfying.”
After the drama had cleared and Graham was on his way to the hospital, the forge fell silent once more. Liam and Killian stood before the judges table, part finished blades wrapped in protective blue cloth in their hands. Killian shuffled his feet, scuffing the dust with the toe of his boot, and Liam was nervously gripping his blade.
“Due to Graham’s medical elimination, there will be no need for further testing of your blades,” Wil Willis began, addressing both of the men in front of him. “For the first time in this competition’s history, we have brothers competing for the title and the check for ten grand.” He had his fingers tented, pointing to each brother in turn. “Congratulations on making the finale round. How do you guys feel about that?”
“No finer opponent,” Liam shrugged, looking sideways at his brother who had his trademark smirk and raised eyebrow plastered on his face.
“May the best man win,” Killian added, bobbing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
“Liam, Killian, we asked you here to forge a blade in your signature style, and we have not overlooked the fact that most of our competitors in this competition were Irish, so now we are sending you back to your home forges to recreate an iconic weapon from Celtic history.”
“The instant Wil Willis mentions Celtic, my heart flutters. Our family has strong Celtic roots, so beating Liam is going to be all that much sweeter.”
Liam looked to his brother, the same gleeful expression lighting up both their faces at the host's words. He hadn’t even revealed the weapon yet and they were both poised to explode with excitement as he reached for the red, silk cloth covering it next to him.
“And that weapon is...the Irish Ring-Hilted Sword.”
The covering fell away from the sword in slow motion, the glint of the silvered pommel catching their eyes. It was beautiful. A long, hefty sword with a distinctive design that simultaneously caused joy and terror to course through them both. What looked like a simple design was actually a long list of complex crafting techniques the show's host was about to divulge.
“You’ll have five days at your home forges in which to complete this challenge,” Willis said enthusiastically, a wicked grin on his face. “Your blades must meet the following parameters. The length of your blade must be between twenty nine and thirty one inches in length, it must be double edged, and include a fuller on both sides of the blade, that runs at least three quarters the length of the blade. You must have an ‘s’ shaped guard, with forked terminals, with at least three prongs on each terminal. Additionally, you must include a ringed pommel, through which you can see the tang. Bladesmiths, after five days you will return to present your swords to our panel of judges, and after they have thoroughly tested them, and inspected the quality of your work, they’ll declare one of you the Forged in Fire champion, who’ll walk out of here with a check for ten thousand dollars. Good luck, Bladesmiths. We’ll see you in five days.”
“Unfortunately, for Killian, he is not used to wielding such an impressive weapon, so it’s going to be easy to, once and for all, instill in him that he will always be the little brother.”
“My older brother seems too preoccupied with the size of the weapon when it’s really about how the sword will perform. I assure you, I’m up for this challenge, and when I forge the better weapon, and I will, whoever is jabbed with it, will most certainly feel it.”
After five days in their home forges, and after extensive rounds of judge testing - including both brother’s hearing Doug Marcaida declare that their blades ‘would cut’ - it was settled once and for all.
Killian Jones did indeed have the bigger knife.
46 notes · View notes
writerspink · 5 years
Text
K-12 Words
K
dry wet shoe ten long stay yellow watch inch cup time words same six bones black child ear most page work white five arms snow main nine water head eggs rain test seven root law fall cow red doctor baby feet room rule one blue dark legs wind skin ball green two ever car body box orange gave door four europe picture wish purple ready try neck brown through sky grass air sign whether dance pink eight drive too sat gray three hit man love hand the of and a to in is you that it he was for on are as with his they I at be this have from or had by but not what all were we when your can said there use an each which she do how their if will up other about out many then them these so some her would make like him into has look more write go see number no way could people my than first been called who oil sit now find down day did get come made may part
1.1
anything syllables past describe winter even also eleven moon fruit sand apple women nose solve Math problem plus minus equals stone pants shirt starry thousand divided just train shall held short lay dictionary twelve suddenly mind race clothes learn picked probably raised finished end plaid years bill place hundred different drop came river milk beautiful square lake hole fingers flat sea type over new sound take only little work know live me back give most very after things our name good sentence man think say great where help through much before line right too means old any same tell boy follow want show around form three small
1.2
interest job because such think thirteen subject answer letter meet north length need times divide (by) times table edge soft months present energy point sound log south wide members exercise flowers set found things heart cause site brother teacher live read billion another distance written kept direction developed wall east happy million world must house turn west change well twenty felt put end does large big even here why ask went men land different home us move try kind hand picture again off dress play spell air away animal page mother study still learn should America
2.1
paragraph weather window third believe discovered simple gone paint new store form cells matter follow perhaps cannot good means around line center kind reason move forest sentence return instruments beside represent wild study back farmers sum difference product quotient remainder mother animal land region record summer general caterpillar scratch modern adjust passenger promise equal creak almost croak book dainty song high every near add food between own below country plant last school father keep tree never start city earth eyes light thought head under story saw left don’t few while along might close something seem next hard open example begin life always those both paper together got group often run
2.2
misty poor caution pest phrase life startle squirm alone centaur rise mountain above illustrator footprint temperature decorate country sweat sometimes hair smiled everything began thick compass themselves enough took although splendid crowded second act attach sly talk wonder let’s whirl someone Africa borrow beat belong blink per fasten pain begin drenched bed shell free earth tiny slippery count factors important until children side feet car mile night walk white sea grow river four carry state once book hear stop without late miss idea eat face watch far Indian real almost let girl mountains cut young soon list song being leave family it’s
3.1
drowsy bashful hatch glad copy possible wicked grin sibling shovel run verb sail polish ride young steep case Indian laughed soil appear bolts costume melody narrow behave howl example flee together lot filthy alarm spiral selfish idea conductor fight rolled middle glacier tree dizzy gather sneaky already construct every miss lively metal couldn’t gold plant mask chat nation hear either bundle section near rescue face divide sob celebrate family loosen jealous crash chimney daily own cozy ripe cut son natural serious carry care paper broken cue within body music color stand questions fish area mark horse birds problem complete room knew since ever piece told usually didn’t friends easy heard order red door sure become top ship across today during short better best however low hours black products happened whole measure remember early waves reached
3.2
being instead ache exactly hard speed buy age late artistic close affordable fraction eyes appetite complain sleep seem eat below remove rusty grow glum stormy trust enormous scale open add grab upset weed denied expensive story terrified lead jumped died basket side bear bend list tomb while batch grateful father gleaming dress light sprinkle amount exclaim result yank leave cheat whimper angle outside remain heap champion surprise dodge moment fancy squeeze pretend village shriek city thunder rapid iron striped don’t attitude bell hat tug isn’t applause children honest cross spring freezing listen wind rock space covered fast several hold himself toward five step morning passed vowel true hundred against pattern numeral table north expert slowly money map farm pulled draw voice seen cold cried plan notice south sing war ground fall king town I’ll unit figure certain field travel wood fire upon
4.1
pattern cave hope mile group travel blush killed seed bottom hide important let ticket timid pounds restart silent cranky keep real bright quite curved repeat trip without dart consonant mountains quiet apologize roar grip groan bolt food injury century exhausted cabin atmosphere floor it’s scold transportation delighted giant hill something build fog method rough left everyone obey deserve speak therefore soon french switch until pushed state knob hobby between surround collect fire I’ll arrive road happened certain top order astronomy inches club catch farm nibble color yourself received connect told gaze check wear English half ten fly gave box finally wait correct oh quickly person became shown minutes strong verb stars front feel fact street decided contain course surface produce building ocean class note nothing rest carefully scientists inside wheels stay green known island week less machine base ago stood
4.2
round award crowd slowly yet products, goods, services vowel himself strange whose draw team hold feel flood sent save stood yard notice warn enemy deep please flap coast music wrote safe blast behind island lizard figure famous garden correct whisper listen joined clear share net thus calf maybe cried piece fold seen england decided bank fell pair control clean telescope trouble glass float morning horse produce course hunting rest step statement contain shouted filled zigzag accident cents instrument fly single express visit desert seeds chew dome experiment break gravity against branch size low plane system ran boat game force brought understand warm common bring explain dry though language shape thousands yes equation government heat full hot check object am rule among noun power cannot able six dark ball material special heavy fine circle include built
5.1
mark wealthy row feeling across attention ran map students inside design art mouth ring skill hot during shelter full till log (book) blossom discard bring quickly scientists party town covered wise early cram grain harm goal pause inform heal clue fame freeze badge pimple dim missionary diet dumb rod march agree stick government bulb mall ban greed skiing poison stove image grew fact material dangerous flow gap ago stack explain didn’t strong voice true drawing surface gift corner cloud since king dawn pulled dozen friends greedy burning upon knew insect decimal nervous pay foot weak smooth aware steady serve lost nonetheless beach front atlas questions less cost slight motor banner wire area carefully separate equation local minutes fast table plan fine waves fair sing dive suppose boat thousands shape among toward gas factory birds wait understand sure ship report captain human game history reflect special brave bounce though else can’t matter square syllables perhaps bill felt suddenly test direction center farmers ready anything divided general energy subject Europe moon region return believe dance members picked simple cells paint mind love cause rain exercise eggs train blue wish drop developed window difference distance heart site sum summer wall forest probably
5.2
include cage language base red brain building feast better built demolish excess leap tower ocean plains cold claw information scholar climbed woman worry strand heavy herd common ground damp pack choose president least increase half english invent class measure dash tremble object become doubt became bare wheels continued shiver engine core couple business stars week peak numeral brought nothing touch reached uncle symbols however rumor evening inasmuch (as) force curious heat career system valley dust flock spray robber practice lonely remember luxury warm heard calm rock frighten leader difficulty best gum cheer key support universe stream bit usually fish parade balance money note cliff stand proof you’re pale machine complete cool shown street today shy easy several search unit war power caught settle itself fuel mention fresh planet plane straight period person able direct space wood seal field circle lady board besides hours passed known whole similar underline main winter wide written length reason kept interest arms brother race present beautiful store job edge past sign record finished discovered wild happy beside gone sky grass million west lay weather root instruments meet third months paragraph raised represent soft whether clothes flowers shall teacher held describe drive appreciate structure visible artificial
6.1
afraid absorb british seat fear stretched furniture sight oxygen coward rope clever yellow albeit confess passage france fan cattle spot explore rather active death effect mine create wash printed process origin rose swift woe planets doze gasp chief perform triumph value substances tone score predict property movement harsh tube settled defend reverse ancient blood sharp border fierce plunge consider terms vision intend total schedule attract average intelligent corn dead southern glide supply convince send continent brief mural symbol crew chance suffix habit insects entered nursery especially spread drift major fig diagram guess wit sugar predator science necessary moisture park ordeal nectar fortunate flutter gun forward globe misery molecules arctic won’t actually addition washington cling rare lie steel pastime soldiers chill accordingly capital prevent solution greek sensitive electric agreed thin provide indicate northern volunteer sell tied triangle action opposite shoulder imitate steer wander except match cross speak solve appear metal son either ice sleep village factors result jumped snow ride care floor hill pushed baby buy century outside everything tall already instead phrase soil bed copy free hope spring case laughed nation quite type themselves temperature bright lead everyone method section lake iron within dictionary bargain loyal resource struggle vary capture exclaim gloomy insist restless shallow shatter talent atmosphere brilliant endure glance precious unite certain clasp depart journey observe superb treasure wisdom
6.2
prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit
7.1
capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt
7.2
evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar
8.1
apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme
8.2
exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual
9.1
stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange
9.2
feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate
10.1
install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete
10.2
warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %
K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite
0 notes