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#knocked everything off of it including the tablecloth

rusnxrr · 1 year

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Pretty common thing for the captains of The Survey Corps was to sit down and have a chat. Naturally, most of the conversations would lead to work-related experiences of the past and the next thing you know, someone ends up sharing a tragic story, tears included.

What was pain in this regiment? The base of every upcoming expedition. Everything here was just people stricken with traumatic experiences ready to try and prove that people can move forward. Can they, though? It's all hidden somewhere, the feelings, the thoughts, the struggles and most of all - the pain. In what case scenario would all of this come up in a conversation? Not the current one, surely.

Hard giggles blasted throughout the room. Your laughter was unmatched, really, but the victim was so even more. At the corner of the room, Great Captain Levi of the Survey Corps was sitting with a pissy expression. You couldn't help it. This guy has just been complaining about incompetent subordinates of his and their big part of clumsiness, but now your eyes are popped out, palms hitting your knees at the sight of him himself, struggling to clean the tea that he just spilled onto himself.

"This shit is mad funny, Levi!"

"Shut the fuck up."

"No, but seriously, it can't get any better."

"Kill your-"

"I've known you for 2 years now, and yet, karma always gets the best to you!"

"I didn't deserve this."

"You do! For being so rude! They're nice people, okay? No need to rash on them, they're trying...ya know?"

"Trying to get a shit all over the stables, yeah."

"It was windy!"

"Trying to stick a poll up a horse's ass."

"The horse was angered!"

"They were the ones who angered the horse, by smacking it's ass and joking about how fruiticious it is."

"..."

"The horse smacked one in the face afterwards"

"Okay they deserved it. But still!"

"But still?"

"Still, yes. Still, still, yes, yes."

"What are yo-"

"Ouah-!"

As unexpected as it is, poor little Levi tried to end the conversation by standing up, only to accidentally stand on the tablecloth, knock the table, which in return, knocked you too and fall down on his back. Clumsy fucker. There laid the situation between the two of you, you landed on top of him, him being strangled by you, on the ground. Silence found it's way into the room. Just two people staring into each other's eyes, lips apart, cheeks slightly reddening.

"..."

You noticed Levi slowly regaining his demeanor and aiming his eyes at the door. Gently pushing you off and running to his goal. This left you even more confused than before. What exactly made him dash out so quickly? Was he just embarrassed he fucked up again with his clumsiness? That'd be funny, but you have a feeling that's not the case.

Need a part two?

#levi ackerman x reader #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #captain levi #aot levi #levi ackerman #levi x you #overpowering levi #snk levi #levi heichou #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader

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wheretheresaway-theresawilliam · 4 months

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Chapter 27: I've Got No Strings

Word Count: 1006

TWs: Murder mentions

⛤⛤⛤

Michael slept most of the day away before his second shift, needing a clear head to continue his investigation. When he returned to Freddy’s, he snapped a photo of the animatronics in their usual positions. There was only so much power still flowing in this building, only enough to make the cameras work, as well as some of the lights. Certainly not enough to make these animatronics perform, let alone walk right off their stages.

Unless, of course, William was secretly powering them separately to the rest of the building, but Michael knew he wasn’t the sort of man to go to that kind of trouble, even if he had a reason to. He stepped into the arcade, sliding over the prize counter to take a picture of the Marionette’s box. And what, you didn’t move because you weren’t made by him? He turned to hop back over the counter, but paused. The crank on the side of the box had twitched, a single music box note piercing his ears.

“Don’t tease me,” Michael muttered, glancing back at the box before heading for the office. Settling in, he looked at the photos he had taken. No black blobs, but definitely a weird sort of haze around all of them… including the Marionette’s box. What is that?? Impatiently, he gave his camera a good shake before setting it down, as if that would fix whatever was happening to his photos. All that was left for him to search was the backroom. Retrieving a hammer from his bag, he set off for the opposite side of the restaurant. The EMPLOYEES ONLY sign had been knocked off the door and lay on the black-and-white checkered floor a few feet from it. This particular hallway seemed especially untouched, as if something was purposefully avoiding it. The animatronics?

He supposed he could understand why, standing in front of it himself. This place was devoid of any cheer and charm Freddy’s had, pre- or post-abandonment. The walls were barren, except for one of the many signs displaying Freddy’s “Rules for Safety.” Don’t run, don’t scream, don’t touch the animatronics… It felt enclosed, hidden away from the rest of the building, though Michael could turn and see a dining table in the distance, still draped with a confetti-patterned tablecloth. It wasn’t a place you wanted to linger, or else you might start to get paranoid. Michael tightened his grip on his hammer, but first tried turning the handle. No luck. He braced one of his shoes against the wall as he tugged, but this door was thicker than others in the building, possibly even thicker than the metal ones in the security office. Huffing and puffing, he let go, glaring at the mysterious door. What was William hiding in here? Or was it nothing? Spare parts and janitorial supplies, maybe, things that would be dangerous in the hands of a child- or a fool -but were ultimately harmless anywhere else.

He could hear a music box in the distance and frowned. He followed the song back to the arcade. The crank on the Marionette’s box was turning on its own. A pit formed in Michael’s stomach, but he couldn’t look away. His palm was beginning to cramp from how tightly he was holding his hammer. The crank wound faster and faster, though the song’s pace never changed, until everything stopped. The silence was deafening. The box opened and the Marionette rose from inside, unfolding to become nearly as tall as Michael himself.

“Michael…”

He screamed as it rasped out his name, its mask’s expression unchanging, a smile indecisively both sinister and innocent. He stumbled backwards into an arcade cabinet, jolting the thing into turning on, its music and lights blaring as Michael dove between the games, huddling against the patterned carpet.

“Wait! Come back!”

But he didn’t wait. Crawling amongst the wires and candy wrappers of decades passed, he scrambled toward the exit of the arcade. He could hear the Marionette crawl out of its box and shuffle toward him in the dark.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?!” He shouted to no one in particular.

“It’s not safe here, you need to leave before the others kill you, too!”

Michael sidled up against a wall, breathing heavily, his eyes darting around, trying to figure out where the animatronic had gone. “Wh… what??”

“Michael, it’s me!” It stood, leaning against one of the cabinets, just a few feet away, begging in a static-shrouded voice. He watched as it knelt down, its spidery fingers wrapping around… his camera.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Not until you leave.”

His expression became mulish. “I won’t leave until I find out who killed those kids, and why they chose Freddy’s. And I’d rather face off against five fucked up robots than turn tail and let this fade into obscurity. They’re not going to get away with it just because the law refuses to get a goddamn clue.” There was a long pause in which the only sound was Michael’s heavy breathing.

“Six.”

“Excuse me?”

“Six robots. Six victims.”

Michael rose to his feet, bewildered. “Yeah, six victims. But there’s only five of you…? And… how the Hell do you know that? What are you??”

“What do you think is in that backroom?” The Marionette sighed, inching forward. Clearly, it was difficult for it to move its body in such a manner, having never been meant to leave that box. It held out the camera. “Do you believe in ghosts, Michael?”

The closer it became, the colder Michael got. Goosebumps raised on his skin as he took the camera back. “I don’t… I didn’t?? But…” He closed his eyes. “Maybe this is a dream. Maybe I fell asleep in the office again.”

The quiet filled his ears again. When he opened his eyes, the Marionette had disappeared. Sweating profusely, Michael returned to the office. His watch beeped, signalling the end of his shift. When he got in his car, he felt too weak to drive. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #michael afton #the marionette #fnaf puppet #charlie emily #accursed heritage au

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soldmysoultootomeboys · 4 years

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Obey Me Brothers Wedding HCS

Just some wedding headcanons for the boys bcuz i’m soft for them, Gn MC

Thinks about marrying Asmo => 😡💕💕

Lucifer

I can not stress how much this man would be a bridezilla

He’s probably the MOST high maintenance demon when it comes to this, even over Asmo

He gets so stressed over it too and when he's stressed he gets extremely snippy

It takes you knocking a little sense into him to get him back on track

He just wants your day to be perfect and with his brothers causing trouble it's hard to really focus on choosing a tablecloth

He won’t be any nicer to his brothers but he will try to avoid causing fights at this time simply because it's really important to him that ALL of his family is there.

The night after proposing you find a beautiful envelope on white paper with gold trim in your room you realize it's a congratulation note from the celestial realm, presumably from the big man upstairs, it's still a heartstopping realization when you realize who your father in law technically is

Are you committing a sin marrying a fallen angel? Do you care?

It’s easier to ignore it than do anything else, although you do appreciate them registering for the coffee maker you had on your registry. You needed that. Mammon broke the last one.

Kindly begs asks you NOT to do anything crazy in the week leading up to it

Please MC his heart he's about to explode from stress please don't add to it, just for one week

Diavolo plans his bachelor party at the Fall with Barbatos. Invites you along and you have to explain how bachelor parties work

If it’s up to him the wedding will be all black with red accents eDgY mUcH?

At the altar he kisses you twice, first to show everyone that your his, the second time is just for you two, he hides you away from sight curling his black wings around you and holding you as close as he can bear

In the end it's a very happy celebration filled with good food, family, and friends

When you cut the cake feel free to smash a little bit in his face, this is your only chance, he'll be in too much of a good mood to retaliate...much

Mammon

Luxury luxury luxury

He wants solid gold altars, diamond encrusted bouquets, jewels imported from every corner of the world

He has so many plans (as well as a ridiculously long wedding registry)

But the moment you say you want anything he abandons them

Whatever you want he wants, but if you wanted some diamonds too that would be great

He absolutely would be down for a wedding bouncy castle

He gets you the biggest diamond ring ever that he buys with his own money from a lot of shifts at Hell's kitchen and modelling gigs

He totally believes in the tradition of not seeing you until your wedding day but he also forgets so he walks in and as soon as he realizes you're getting ready he shuts his eyes and tries to run out. He'll only talk to you from behind the door.

When he sees you walking down the aisle he falls in love all over again. And he feels like that a hundred different moments. It doesn't matter what you're doing, playing with your veil, wiping cake off the corner of your mouth, yawning, he loves you and loves that you’re his.

He could get married to you in a ditch and still be the happiest man in the world.

He's an absolute goofball and is smiling the entire time

The couple that during their wedding night end up jumping on the bed and having pillow fights while play wrestling

Levi

You really want to marry a gross otaku like him??? Why??

Not that he's complaining! He just doesn't get it. His brothers are so cool and Asmo is so much prettier than him and he doesn't have anything to offer.

It takes a lot of reassuring to convince that this is what you want to do

You two have this same conversation about a million times before the wedding. He just doesn't get why you actually like him. Once it finally sets in that this really is happening and it's not just some big joke he gets really into it and definitely puffs up around his brothers to show off

His first thought is a cosplay wedding and he'll beg for it to be Ruri-chan themed

Good luck getting Lucifer or any of his brothers to agree to dressing up, as funny as it may be

If you shoot that down it's pretty easy to convince him to do something else since mostly he's just excited to be with you

He still has a little Ruri pin on his suit collar and cufflinks

When you walk down the aisle he feels like he’s going to faint from nerves and when it’s time for vows he pulls out a huge list of all the reasons he loves you and why your his Henry, although about half of it compares things you’ve done to things in TSL

He only makes it through a quarter of the way before he gets embarrassed

When he lifts your veil he panics because your so pretty and he can’t handle it

You have to initiate the kiss and when you do he turns as red as a tomato

He tries to play it off but keep a strong arm around his waist unless he really does decide to pass out

He cools down once you guys are at the reception and gets especially excited the little custom made toppers of you two in cartoon form

Satan

He's a bridezilla but in the lightest sense of the word

He won't get upset over mix ups or even really wedding stuff like Asmo or Lucifer but his temper will be extremely fine during this time, especially when it comes to his brothers.

Throws an entire table through the window when Lucifer asks him if he knew where Mammon was

It’s a lot of stress to create the perfect wedding and he buries his nose in different books that can help him

He’s a bit of a perfectionist

The most classic and elegant wedding ever and he’d want to be involved in every step of the way

Very interested in your opinion and if it compares to human weddings

He flushes with pride whenever you compliment something he picked out

Includes casual literary references in his wedding but only so people who really know will realize

Wears a navy suit

Asmo

Also a bridezilla and a petty one at that

There will be drama, there will be tears, there will be a part where he cries off his mascara because Andrealphus of the damned brought the white bouquets and he wanted the PINK ones. This is HIS day why is she trying to ruin it.

It’s a lot of work trying to keep the damage to a minimal

Part of the reason he gets so upset is because this is your day too and he wants it to be perfect.

Prepare for a million dress rehearsals.

He wants to help pick out your outfit and makeup! But he also doesn't want to break human tradition...But he wants to help pick out your outfit and makeup so bad!!

If he manages to restrain himself he picks out the makeup artist and the stylizer because he knows what makeup you like and what looks best on your skin.

Most likely tho he'll want to see anyways and bugs you to let him in

You compromise by going shopping with him as he tries on a million dresses and suits

MC the suit on the right or the one on the left?

They both look exactly the same.

"...Left love." "That's exactly what I was thinking. I knew I could trust you to pick out the right answer!"

Even though he's very good at fashion your opinion matters a lot to him. Sure he could make himself look perfect but he wants to look perfect for YOU. He wants to be your version of perfect and if that means he picks the high cut dress instead of the low cut which flatters his waist better then he'll do it. For you.

He's the type to want to have all the spotlight on him so if you're walking down the aisle he's going to do it too! He does it first. HE says for the attention. In reality he wants to be able to see you the moment you step out the doors and down that hall.

Looks super perfect as he waits for you at the aisle but the moment you get married he starts ugly crying. He throws his veil back on so no one can see it but you just lift it up and kiss away his tears.

Even though it's a lot of work it's worth it to be with the demon you love...but if you shove cake in his face he'll seriously kill you, MC do you know how long this took?!!!!! :'(

Beel

He’s more than happy to do whatever you want

Whatever vision you have he's willing to make happen

He does his best but feels a little useless since keeps having to break for snacks

Wonders why you’d want to be with him when all he ever does it eat but he tries not to bring it up in case it would upset you

He honestly does have a lot of fun planning with you and his favorite part was when you got to taste test different cakes because he got to impress you by explaining all the little differences between each one

He ends up being in charge of everything food related and it helps him feel a bit better

Barbatos ends up cooking the dishes

During the rehearsal he falls in love with you all over again and doesn’t want to let you go the entire time

He gets especially nervous during the month of the wedding

He starts stress eating, going through even more food than normal, but then he gets worried about fitting into his suit and starts working out even more than normal, which makes him hungry again. It’s a terrible cycle

Belphie manages to break him out of it by reminding Beel that you love him more than anyone else

Even though its his wedding he starts setting up just to get out some of his nervous tension until the others shoo him back inside

A huge 20 layer cake each tier a different flavor

He has his own personal cake that's even bigger than the other cake but he’s more than willing to share with you

You two do the cute bit where you smash cake in each others faces

Beel still eats it tho

As much as he loves his family he's so happy to be able to steal you away at the end

Belphie

Planning a wedding is sooo much work

He lets you choose whatever you want as long as you let him sleep

if it was up to him he'd want a small informal celebration with his family but if you want something bigger than he guesses it's fine. As long as he doesn't have to talk to anyone like Diavolo

He uninvites Lucifer like three times, each time using extremely formal paper with beautiful cursive that must have taken hours. When Lucifer confronts him Belphie just says that it’s too late because he already gave away his seat.

He only brings him back when you make him

He sleeps more than usual in the weeks leading up to the wedding. You think it’s because of the stress but in actuality he’s trying to save up his sleep so he’s more awake for the ceremony

As much as he may act like he doesn’t care, he really does want to marry you and it makes him happy to think that you’re going to be all his

Beel is obviously his best man and while Belphie waits for you to come down the aisle he leans against him to take a small nap. Or that's what he had planned. The moment the music starts he perks up and finds himself unable to even close his eyes, too fixated on the doors about to open.

Feeds you the first bite of cake and then just...doesn't stop

He’s so in love with you all he can do is stare

Gives his slice of cake to Beel he'd much rather pay attention to you than eat

However he does smash a little in your face but it’s out of love <3

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gotnofucks · 3 years

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Compromise

Paring: dark!August Walker x Reader

Summary: Your surrender to him would ensure the safety of the world.

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, violence, blackmail and manipulation, 18+ ONLY

MASTERLIST

+++++

The doorman helped you out of the car, your hand firmly clasped in his gloved one as you steadied your feet in your high heels. The cold made gooseflesh rise on your arms and back, the little hair standing up in the breeze. You clutch your coat closer, following your escort inside the hotel and exhaling deep in the elevator. You were nervous, not something unfamiliar. But you were also scared, something that could prove fatal in your line of work.

As the elevator dinged, announcing the top floor that opened in front of you, you almost didn’t step out. The whole thing felt off, the bodice of your dress hugging you tight and making it difficult to breath. And yet when your escort waved you forward, you followed behind him, the floor length skirt of your dress softly swishing on the marble floors and your heels tick-tocking against them.

The man led you past a number of unmarked doors before stopping before an ornately carved doorway, intricate vines twisting on its surface to form a beautiful design. The man gave three sharp knocks and pushed the door open, bowing a little as you entered but not following. The clicking shut of the door made you flinch, and you looked around at the room in awe.

It was a beautiful room, large with the opposite wall made completely of glass, the night sky twinkling at you as the distant city lights burned small like tiny candle flames. There was a round table in the center of the room, draped in silver and black silk tablecloth and set with two chairs. Against the right wall sat a large four poster bed similarly laid in black sheets and sheer white curtains tied to the posts.

You swallowed uneasily, walking inside with as little noise as possible. The invitation, glittery silver ink on black polished paper burning a hole inside your handbag. It was worded so wisely, disguised as a dinner invitation, and yet bearing the marks of someone who could destroy your life. The code was easy to break, and as you read between the polite lines of invitation and gazed at the secret code for your covert mission, your hands trembled. You don’t tremble much. You learnt not to when you joined this task force as an agent.

And yet, the knowledge that someone knew about you and your mission made your fingers curl up for warmth inside your palm. The future of millions was depending on this mission, and this mission depended on you. If you failed, the world would fall, and you will live the rest of your life bearing the blood of endless lives on your soul.

When he stepped out from the shadows that concealed the door behind them, you gasped. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were. The blue green eyes you had looked at everyday for the past few months gazed back at you, amused, analyzing.

“Hello Agent, a fine evening isn’t it?”

August had always been polite, always sincere. He was the one person you thought was innocent in this whole operation. He was just a CIA operative; he was an agent who got recruited into something they didn’t know the truth about. Yet, he stood before you with a smile gracing his lips beneath that bushy mustache and the dimple on his chin barely visible under his beard. He was donning a sharp black suit matching with the room esthetics, and he cocked his head at you, pulling out a chair as an offer.

“You look lovely, let me take that coat.”

You let him remove your coat, rubbing your arms as you silently took the seat he offered. In this large room, with the dark décor, his huge beefy body made him appear sinister, like a dragon who was overlooking his hoard.

“I didn’t expect you.” You commented, taking a sip of the water in front of you. Just like that, your fear was gone. The nerves before the mission vanished as you came back into your element. The field was your battleground, and you knew you owned it. August smiled, sitting across from you.

“Oh, I know, and that was your mistake. Or maybe it was my success. I am not completely innocent but –”

“– you don’t exactly scream a genocidal maniac either.” You completed for him. He was good.

August Walker walked the fine line when it came to being an agent. While he was courteous and polite, he was also easy to anger. You’d seen him in action, fighting off men twice his bulk with barely an effort, the faintest tinge of amusement in his eyes as he watched them bleed. Espionage was a rough life, and many agents went in over their head to deal with the bloodshed and cruelty they witnessed. You didn’t think he was naïve, but you also didn’t think him evil.

“Where did I go wrong?” You asked him, genuinely curious. You were so meticulous with everything; each move you made was calculated. You had to be brilliant to be handed a mission as important as this.

August splayed his hands on the table that was curiously empty of any food, only two glasses of water and two empty wine glasses with a bottle of wine sitting in the center.

“Nowhere truly. You were so fascinating to look at though. In fact, I think that had I not been looking so closely at you, I would have missed the little signs.” His voice was smooth and soft, level. Eyes never leaving yours, but then again, they barely left you before. You knew he was watching you, but you had thought it was natural for someone to keep an eye on the new addition of the team.

“Little signs?”

“The first time I noticed something was when you tapped that tattoo near the crook of your elbow. You did that often, I though it was a nervous tick. I thought it was cute.” He continued, and both your eyes strayed to the small Celtic shield tattoo that was inked over the scarred skin hiding the small chip under your skin. Your eyes met his and he smirked.

He had known all those times you touched it to send out messages in morse code, to send out locations. He had known, but never let on.

“What else?” You wanted to know, if only to stall the rising trepidation in your belly. Did you compromise everyone in your team?

“Your eyes.” He said, almost breathlessly and for a moment it became difficult to maintain the eye contact. “Your eyes were such a lovely shade when I first saw you, sparkling. I love how expressive they are, how they seem to glitter. But when you wore the smart lenses, they seemed different. Maybe not to others, but to me. I knew exactly where you have flecks in your eyes, the lenses shielded them.”

You found yourself gulping as you heard him spoke, the passion in his voice thrilling you as much as it terrified you. His gaze on you had never been just analytical. It was fanciful. It was observant. He didn’t look at you like an agent, he looked at you with the hunger of a wolf.

“What do you want August?” You finally asked him, unsure what he wanted from you.

“First, I want you to take off those earrings and crush them.” He said, sitting back on his chair and raising a brow. You stiffly followed his command, pulling off your earrings and crushing the pearl on top of it with the edge of the glass, including the G.P.S tracker inside. August seemed pleased and he nodded, coming forward to take the bottle of wine and pouring you a generous amount.

“I don’t want to remove the chip as long as you promise not to touch it. The blood, it would ruin the mood wouldn’t it?” He asked while cocking his head, taking his wine glass, and clinking it with yours.

“You did not call me here do drink wine and just talk. What do you want?” You snap at him, irrigation bubbling in your gut. The twitching mustache whenever he smirked, that irked you.

He crossed his hand over his chest, licking his lips as his eyes dropped from your fiery eyes to your pursed lips, and from there to your cleavage.

“I want you to give up your mission” He said. The unsaid ‘and’ in there made you arch your brow in question. “And I want you to surrender to me.”

You leaned your elbows on the table, scrunching your nose as you said with as much venom as you could muster, “No. And no. I’d rather die than let you destroy innocent lives for your misguided idea of peace.”

The flash of teeth told you he expected that answer. Taking a sip of his wine he rolled that gulp in his mouth before swallowing, your eyes following the movement of this Adam’s apple.

“Well then, we negotiate.” He offers and pointedly looks at your wine glass. You touch it lightly with his and gulp in a mouthful, trying to keep your nerves steady. This was still your battlefield; you could still win.

“You want to negotiate a terrorist attack?” You asked him with the smallest of smile, and he returned you a bigger one.

“Call it a proposition. I’ll stand back on the attack as long as you agree to surrender to me”.

You blinked, confused, and caught off guard. You drowned your wine, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

“And by surrender you mean?”

You knew what he meant. He had admitted to you that he was watching you. He spoke to you like he knew you. His eyes raked over your figure in a way that seemed to go deeper than the skin. You watch him stand up and come over to your side, sitting on the table edge in front of you.

“You know what I mean. I want your complete surrender. You have five minutes to decide.” The amused tilt to his voice raised your hackles and you nervously looked over your shoulder.

“Five minutes?” You asked and he chuckled.

“You had to have known that your wine had poison in it.”

You stood up from your chair so fast it toppled. You glanced at your empty wine glass and then to August. Was he lying? But even as you toyed with that thought you could feel sweat building above your lip and hairline, breathing getting just a tad bit harder. Your eyes widened and you stuck a finger down your throat, trying to vomit.

“Won’t help, its already in your blood. You just need to decide if you’d rather be mine or rather be dead.” August said, just sitting and watching your frantic movements. You panted, eyes closing as you fought to think clearly. It was not a difficult decision to make. You opened your eyes, glaring at him as he played with a small vial of what you were sure was the antidote.

“Well sweetness, what will it be? Me, or the cold arms of death?” He asked.

You walked up to him, taking hold of his lapels to pull him closer and slapped him hard.

“You bastard.” You spat. “Give me the antidote.”

You reached for the small glass bottle, but August pushed you away with a firm hand on your shoulder. He looked mischievous, your suffering a source of amusement for him.

“Not so fast.” He tutted. “You need to surrender sweetness, and the first thing to go will be that pride.”

With that, he unbuckled his belt and quickly undid the button on his pants, eyes on you the whole time. You watched in bafflement as he lowered his boxers to bring out his semi-erect cock from within, a closed fist stroking it slowly.

“On your knees.” He commanded, and with a flick of his finger snapped open the bottle and poured some antidote on his now hard cock. “You don’t have much time. You want to live? Get down on your knees and suck.”

The burning in your lungs increased both with the poison and humiliation as you sank down to your knees, the will to live making you waste little time to come forward and put your mouth around him. Your tongue laved at him, catching the bitter essence of the antidote, and eagerly looking for more. He let you do it your way for a while before fisting your hair and jerking you hard, forcing his tool deep inside your mouth.

You moaned as he stretched your lips around himself, the girth of him too wide for comfort. You tried to breath through your nose, tongue moving around for the left-over antidote sticking on his skin.

“Suck sweetness, suck like you mean it. Your world depends on how good you put that mouth to use.” He said groaning, thrusting in your mouth with vigor. You did as he commanded, hollowing your cheeks, and sucking gently, swirling your tongue as you bobbed your head. You pulled away, gasping, and then poking at his slit with your tongue, tasting his musky precum.

August pulled you up by your neck, pushing and moving behind until you fell and landed on the soft mattress of the bed. He climbed over you, pants discarded and shirt unbuttoned, a maniac gleam in his lust blown eyes.

“Please, the antidote.” You begged. You hated pleading but you love breathing more. As you reached out a hand, August took it in his and kissed your fingers before kissing the inside of your wrist. You shivered, his gentle caresses making you respond despite your revulsion.

He brough the antidote to his own mouth, taking in a mouthful and then lowered his mouth to yours. You parted your lips, allowing him to transfer the life saving liquid into your mouth and you swallowed. His tongue invaded your mouth, swirling inside and your hands grabbed his shoulder and hair, pulling him closer. The possibility of dying had you clinging to the only source in this room that made you feel alive in this moment.

“I hate you!” You mumbled against his lips, pulling on his mustache with your teeth and he chuckled. His hands lowered the straps of your dress, lips following to suck a mark into your skin.

“You can hate me, but you cannot leave me. Your precious world stays intact, as long as you do what I say.”

You let him take control, moans spilling from your mouth unbidden at the pleasure he wrecked on your mind and body. You slyly moved your hand down, letting it drag down your side along the slit in your dress to grasp your thigh holster. August’s hand reached the knife strapped to your thigh just as yours did, his lips smiling against your skin as he grabbed it.

“Oh sweetness, you wring my heart with your strength.” He locked his gaze on yours, using your own knife to cut your dress in the middle and bare you to his eyes. The small scars that you received over the years in your service littered your body, and you groaned when he traced them softly.

As his bare body folded over yours, you let your thoughts fly away. You surrendered to his whims and your basic nature, nails digging in his back as he held you close and entered you slowly. You moved in tandem, meeting every one of hit thrusts with a raise of your hips, lips molded over his and curses flowing between both of you.

The ridges of his cock scratched your walls and made you whimper, the sheer size of him taking away your breath. You felt so full, full of August. In that moment, he occupied your body and your thoughts. Your hands roamed his sweaty body, heels digging in his strong back as he powered into you. The delicious burn of his beard left red scratches around your nipples and neck, his hands holding you tight enough to burn their shape in your body.

You convulsed around him, his finger mashing your clit making you soar over the cliff and fall into a valley of pleasure, lightning bolts racing across your back. He was still thrusting, forcing you to look at him as he emptied inside you. As he rolled over and you caught your breath, he tossed you the remaining antidote which you gulped swiftly.

You watched him pant, his hairy chest glistening with sweat. The raw power of his body, the pleasure he just delivered both embarrassed and excited you. You knew you must surrender, must compromise yourself if that was what would take for the world to survive.

“You may own my body, even my mind at times. But don’t think I’ll ever surrender my heart.” You told him and he laughed, reaching over to hold your arm in his, pressing a soft kiss first to both your cheeks and then lips.

“You know I can’t resist a challenge sweetness.” He said. You watched in fascinated horror as his fingers hovered over your tattoo, looking at you with glittering eyes. He tapped out a short message that made your heart stutter and then your knife was pressed into your skin, digging deep to pull out the chip as your screamed.

She’s Mine

His bloody fingers cupped your face, pulling you closer to nuzzle you in his warmth.

“Just surrender to me, and the world will wake up to see another day.”

+++++

Tags: @what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel @muralskins @rayofdawnworld @agniavateira

#august walker x reader #dark!august walker x reader #august x reader #henry cavill x reader #dark!henry cavill x reader #august walker #henry cavill

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pillow-anime-talk · 3 years

Text

family breakfast.

synopsis: You and your fiancé as parents of five really sweet kids.

# tags: scenario; current relationships; family model; romance; big fluff; sfw

includes: female reader ft. sakunosuke oda & orphans {bsd}

author’s note: guys... i miss them.

“Breakfast on the table, everyone! Come on, come on!” Your loud and at the same time very cheerful voice spread throughout the apartment, and a short while later you heard a few pairs of feet knocking on wooden panels and bright tiles.

Next to your person standing at the burner, Kousuke, Shinji, Yuu, Sakura and Katsumi appeared in turn. The latter still seemed so sleepy and tired. Anyway, you laughed softly at the sight of five children in their colorful pajamas, then stroked each one on the head saying that for breakfast you had prepared their favorite fluffy pancakes with fruit and chocolate. The kids seemed even happier than a moment ago at the sound of this sentence, and Katsumi felt a surge of energy as he ran to the table first; the rest of the boys obviously followed him, fighting for a place that was as close to yours as possible.

You wanted to finish cooking sausages for your fiancé, but suddenly you felt something touching your left, naked leg (naked because of the sleeping shorts, naturally). So you looked down quickly and smiled gently at the five-year-old girl one more time.

“Something wrong, Sakura-chan?” You picked up the black-haired girl, went back to watching the meat and the baby cuddled up against your warm neck, inhaling your characteristic, slightly sweet smell.

“... Well, I-I... I’d like to have chicken onigiri for dinner today.” She admitted shyly, and you chuckled under your breath as you kiss her on the right temple.

“Of course. We can eat whatever you want for dinner today. Ask the boys later if they want anything else besides onigiri. Now, go and take your seat at the table. I’ll be there in a little while, okay?” You put the little girl down on the grey floor, looking at the black frying pan that sizzled nicely.

“Yaaay! Thanks, mommy~!” The five-year-old ran away from you, and you turned off the burner by throwing all six sausages on Sakunosuke’s white plate. You also added a few fresh vegetables, then took both your beloved man’s plate and your own plate filled with sliced omelets to place the last dishes on a table full of food, hot tea and strong coffee.

The children were already politely waiting for you, so when you appeared next to them, blissful smiles appeared on their tiny faces. You put the dishes on the tablecloth-covered wood and at the same second felt a hot kiss on your cheek. Of course you guessed to whom the rough stubble belonged, so you just turned your head to look at the reddish-brown-haired, tall man.

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner, love? I would help you with breakfast.” He muttered, then sat down in his usual place on one side of the table. You shrugged in response, stroking his unruly, very fluffy hair.

“You worked hard yesterday and you came back late, so I wanted you to rest, darling... And now let’s eat, because everything will turn cold!” You clapped your hands merrily, sitting next to the man on his right.

“Enjoy your meal, kids.” The blue-eyed smiled slightly, and you and your five children repeated his words, finally reaching for chopsticks (or forks) to eat the still steaming meals.

All seven of you started talking about plans for the current weekend, and Sakunosuke, somewhere between nodds and answers to curious questions, wondered what he had to do in a previous life that someone sent him you and five of these amazing little ones in this, current life.

After all, it wasn’t too long ago that he barely met you at a curry bar when you stopped for lunch between work and the desire to go to the library, and then the two of you ended up as a couple, as a future spouses, and as parents due to the fact that you fell in love with not only a twenty-seven-year-old, but also with his lovely pupils who saw a real, perfect mom in you.

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 3 years

Text

Starlight | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 1410

A/N: This is for @wesleeporstudy who requested a Found Family!Hotch x Reader fic! I intended for this to be a drabble but I was having too much fun and got a little carried away... enjoy!

GALAXY MASTERLIST (not needed to understand the plot but there’s similar content here if you liked this fic!)

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” Spencer didn’t have to clarify his question for you to know he felt better about speaking at conferences when you were there. You were standing toe to toe in front of your car at the airport parking lot, dropping him off for his flight. Everything about his body language showed hesitation, including the way he was clutching his go bag.

You felt bad, truly. You wanted to go with him, but you had an obligation in Virginia that you couldn’t reschedule. “I have some things I have to take care of here. You know I’d only miss one of your lectures for something extra important.”

The corners of Spencer’s lips turned down at your answer, though you both knew you were right, “and you still won’t tell me what it is?”

“If I did, you wouldn’t go to your conference. Don’t worry about it though. You’re going to knock the socks off of those criminology professors,” you reached up to brush a piece of lint off of his jacket lapel, “you should go before you miss your flight.”

“Actually, based on the number of departing flights today and the amount of foot traffic in the airport, it takes approximately 45 minutes to get through security at this time of day, and another ten to find the assigned gate. I could stand out here with you for another thirty minutes before I’m late enough to miss my flight.”

“Spencer,” you chided, “go get on your plane, I’ll be here when you get back. Do you want me to pick you up?”

Spencer nodded eagerly, “could you?”

“Of course. Now go!” You put your hands on his shoulders and turned him to face the entrance of the airport. You watched him walk through the sliding doors, then got back into your car. Spencer would be ok on his own, you reminded yourself as you drove to the nearest grocery store. You had to pick up a few more things before continuing on to your final destination, including a birthday cake and some sports themed napkins.

Hotch seemed relieved to see you when he opened his apartment door.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he offered, reaching out to take some of the many items you had managed to balance in your arms.

“Thanks, where’s the birthday boy?” you asked, following him inside. Before Hotch could answer, your legs were attacked in a hug from Jack.

“Hi (y/n),” he chirped, looking up at you with a toothy grin.

“Are you ready…” you asked him slowly, then quickly changed your tone, “for the best birthday party ever!?”

“YES!” Jack screamed, matching your excitement level.

“Oh phew,” you dramatized, wiping imaginary sweat off of your forehead, “can you help me and your dad put up some decorations? They should be in that blue bag over there.” Jack scrambled over to the bag, pulling out the various decor items you had purchased. He helped Hotch put up streamers and banners while you put out tablecloths and bowls of snacks. You also set up a gift table, putting the wrapped box you brought in the center.

Just as you finished setting up, the first of Jack’s friends started to arrive. You left talking to the kids’ parents up to Hotch, instead entertaining the herd of second graders with a game of Twister. After Twister you facilitated a game of freeze dance, then took a break for pizza, cake, and presents. You then produced a box of small Nerf guns, told an elaborate story about how you stole a priceless gem, and tasked the group of tiny FBI agents to hunt you down after giving you a thirty second head start.

“You’re very good at this,” Hotch tried to look nonchalant leaning against the counter as to not give away your hiding spot next to him. You adjusted your makeshift helmet, a colander that you had found in a cabinet, before answering in a whisper.

“My cousin has a whole crew of small children. I used to stay with them during school breaks,” you paused to peek over the countertop, quickly locating the kids strategizing in Jack’s room, “I’ve run my fair share of birthday parties, and done twice as much babysitting.”

“Well, thank you for taking time out of your weekend to help out here.”

“Anytime, Hotch, really. I’ve seen how stressed out you’ve been lately. Our job isn’t easy and I can’t even imagine how much harder it is while also being a single parent.” You had offered to help out with Jack’s birthday party after catching Hotch still in his office at 2 a.m. trying to plan it a few weeks ago. It was the least you could do after Hotch denied your request to take some of his paperwork instead. You glanced over the counter again, a foam bullet whizzing by your ear. “My position’s been compromised, gotta go!”

You dramatically rolled into the kitchen, firing back some more bullets before getting hit by the entire firing squad of eight year old assailants. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Hotch laughing at your exaggerated performance. It made you happy seeing him smile, it wasn’t something you saw from your Unit Chief often.

“Ahhhhhhh you got me!! I still have one trick up my sleeve though… a partner! Super villain Hotchner, take the gem and my gun!” you slid the “gem” and your Nerf gun across the linoleum floor towards Hotch’s feet before pretending to die. Hotch picked up the items and ran towards his office, the kids chasing after him. You took the opportunity to eat a slice of pizza and drink some soda, effectively refueling yourself for the rest of the party.

You helped Hotch clean up after all of the kids went home. Jack attached himself to your legs once again right before you were about to leave.

“What do we say to (y/n) for helping out with your party?” Hotch asked his son.

“Thank you,” Jack recited, tightening his grip on you.

“You’re very welcome, my friend,” you ruffled his hair, “will you help out with my birthday party this year?” Jack��s eyes lit up and he immediately started spurting different party themes that you could have, which included trains, superheroes, and cowboys.

“Those are all very good ideas, we have a few months so we can think on it, ok?”

“Thanks again for your help, this wouldn’t have been successful without you,” Hotch handed you a tupperware of leftover cake.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re the coolest Dad ever. Like I said though, anytime. Jack is like the little brother I never had, I would do anything for this kid.” You meant it, too. Jack was just as much a part of your found family as anyone else on the team.

“See you Monday, (y/n).”

“See you Monday, boss,” you repeated, finally heading out the door and to your car.

On Monday morning you found yourself back in the airport parking lot, sitting on the hood of your car eating the last of the leftover cake. When Spencer exited the building and spotted you, his pace quickened.

“How was your conference?” you asked, sliding off of your car and getting inside once he reached your vehicle.

“It went really well, there was a fantastic talk on the link between victimization and offending that you would have liked- wait, is that cake?” Spencer stopped mid-ramble when he noticed the dish in your hands.

“It sure is,” you turned to put the container in the backseat.

“Where did you get cake?”

“Jack’s birthday party,” you shrugged, starting the drive towards work.

“Jack’s birthday isn’t until next week though.”

“Brian Trevino’s birthday party is next weekend even though his birthday isn’t for another two weeks,” you explained. Spencer’s eyes narrowed as he thought about what you had just said.

“Who is Brian Trevino?” He finally asked.

“A kid in Jack’s class, that’s why Jack had to have his birthday party this weekend, because they would have invited the same kids.”

“I didn’t realize you were so invested in the drama of the second grade.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Spencer Reid.”

“Actually, I know most things about you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like the fact that you’ve had blue frosting on your face for the last five minutes.”

Galaxy Taglist: @kermitsaysgayrights @niallthedancingharry @shadyladyperfection @thatsonezesty13 @lexshead @ceeellewrites @howdycharlie @girlycakepops @fantastic-fans @canimarrypizzaornah @daisyflower138 @dyingrexx @taylormobley @bazzleslynn @tj-drinks-tea @willa-wonky @eddiesbifocals @itsafreakingtouque @tee-mbrown @reniescarlett

#aaron hotchner x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #platonic imagine

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rubix-writings · 3 years

Text

Punisher Pt. 6

Sixth part of Punisher. Not a super exciting chapter, but it’s important. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, mentions of a fight and harassment

Things have drastically changed in the days following the bar fight. Instead of Jay avoiding me, I avoided Jay. Whenever he came to the bar to order drinks, I immediately went to tables to grab empties and refills. Or when he walked over to close a tab I would find something to clean in the back. I know what you’re thinking and yes, it is childish and the worst way to handle things, but right now I don’t know what else to do. Honestly, I can’t think straight right now. Everytime I try to think through all the possibilities of a potential relationship between Jay and I my irrational thinking kicks in and I end up with an outcome that couldn’t possibly be correct. I can tell that I’m hurting Jay, that he was hurt after he spoke to me and I froze instead of reciprocating any sort of feelings.

“Jo….Jo!.... Earth to Jo!”

“What, sorry?” I turn to Emily.

“Can I get a refill please?” I move to grab the wine bottle and refill her glass.

“You okay Jo? You seem a little out of it today,” Silvie interjects.

“A little?” Emilly scoffs as she sips her wine.

“Just tired, I’ve had a lot of late shifts,” it’s not a complete lie.

“You sure it doesn’t have to do with someone with a name that rhymes with Ray?” Emily jokes.

“Em, please not today,” my body is exhausted, it can’t handle trying to explain the situation further.

“You can talk to us, about anything,” Silvie reassures.

“Yeah, I know I joke about it, but we’re here for you,” Emily agrees. The girls get up from the stools and move to the table with Matt and Cruz. What is wrong with me? I just need to not think about him and eventually things will go back to before I met him. I didn’t always know Jay Halstead, and the world still turned.

“Hey Jo, can I get a beer?” Will asked. Of course, I really should look for a different job. I grab a beer from the fridge and pop to cap for Will.

“Here yah go Will.”

“Thanks, can I ask you something?”

“Um…” I stutter. “I guess it depends.”

“There’s this guy I know who likes this girl.” Will whispers. I glance back to the table he just came from, Natalie laughs as Maggie finishes telling a story. Ah, gotcha.

“Alright.” I stop wiping down the counter and lean on my forearms so we can speak in a whisper.

“The girl is great, everyone likes her. But, she’s just had a major life change and he doesn’t want to be ‘taking advantage’ so to speak. But people can see that she very obviously has feelings for him too. What do you think he should do? Since you are a female.”

“Is that the only criteria you have?”

“You are also a bartender.”

“Whatever. Has this ‘guy’ made his feelings known to her?”

“Yeah, it’s shamefully obvious.”

“Good, he’s going to have to be patient. Since she just went through a major life change, she’s probably scared and doesn’t want to hurt him in the process.”

“Okay, is there anything he can do to help?” I take a deep breath and think hard for a minute.

“I think the best thing he can do is to show her that he’s not going anywhere, that he’s willing to wait as long as she needs. Because there’s no telling how long that’ll be, so being reassured in that would help a lot,” Will nods and takes a sip of his beer.

“You see why I wanted a female bartender to talk about this with?” I roll my eyes. “Thanks Jo, really.” I smile at Will and go back to wiping down the counter.

“Hey! Hey guys! Listen up!” Mouch runs into the bar with Trudy in tow.

“Hey, hey! Listen to the man!” Hermann grabs everyone’s attention and Mouch nods in gratitude towards his best friend.

“Not everyone’s here…” Mouch looks around. It’s true, some of the firemen and Intelligence Unit - including Jay - are missing from the bar tonight.

“Oh my God,” Trudy groans, “We’re renewing our vows!” The bar immediately erupts into joyous screams to congratulate the couple. I haven’t seen Trudy smile this big before, her cheeks must be hurting. The couple are herded into a giant hug from their friends and coworkers despite the objections.

“Jo, get the champagne! We need to toast!” Hermann shouts and I start passing out champagne flutes. Once everyone has some champagne, Hermann stands on the ledge to make a speech. “These two lovebirds have stood the test of time not to mention life threatening events because of the love they share. I won’t get too sappy cause I don’t want Mouch to start crying, but the love you have is special. You can tell by the way you look at each other or the way you talk about each other. Not many people get to experience that, but I can’t think of two people who deserve it more. We’re excited to continue on this journey with you. Cheers!” Everyone yells out before taking a sip. The couple are bombarded with questions about the renewal and how they came to the conclusion.

Hermann’s words swirl around my head, I want to be loved like that. I’ve only experienced harsh, painful love. Love that isn’t really love, more like imprisonment.

****

The days leading up to the renewal were hectic, since Trudy enlisted my help early on. It wasn’t an ask either, she threw down some binders for food options and told me to pick what I think would be best. Of course I did as told, since Trudy scares the shit out of me, and ever since I’ve been her go-to girl. I would be lying if I said the entire planning process wasn’t fun, one day Trudy brought cake slices to the bar to test out.

Currently, I’m fulfilling my last duties - transforming the bar. It feels right that Mouch and Trudy settled on the bar, it only took Hermann offering it up multiple times a day. The bar is empty as everyone has shifts today so they could get tomorrow off. It took me about an hour to move all the tables and stools around to provide a walkway for the ceremony. Once that was done, I took a break to lay on the floor since I never workout, but probably should start. But quickly, I realized my time crunch since I needed to run back home to get ready. The rest didn’t take long. Hermann brought over all the ironed out tablecloths before his shift, so I put those on the tables and booth tables that were left over after moving stuff around. I just started filling up vases with water for the flower arrangements when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was Trudy coming to take a quick peek I didn’t think to look through the peephole first.

“Hey, I have some stuff Trudy needed to be dropped off,” Jay spews out quickly. Stunned by Jay’s presence, I silently move out of the way so he can enter.

“How are you?” I force out.

“Good, ugh work’s been really hectic,” Jay puts the box of decorations on a covered table. “You?”

“Good. I somehow got roped into doing all this,” I move to look through the box. It’s filled with framed photos of Trudy and Mouch, including a photo from their wedding day.

“Look, Jo. I’m really sorry about stepping in. I just… the guy had it coming,” I laugh.

“He did. But I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. It’s not worth you losing your job.”

“I would love to be able to stand here and tell you it will never happen again because I know that’s what you want to hear. But my only regret from that night was not stepping in sooner. And if I lose my job from punching out a guy who harasses and assaults you then so be it.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’ve wanted to tell you this sooner, but you’ve been avoiding me like the plague,” I cringe.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to go about everything afterwards so I just avoided it. I know I hurt you and I really am sorry.” Jay smirks and nods.

“I should let you get back to all of this,” he moves his hands gesturing to the pure chaos behind me. “I’ll see you later.” My hands begin to shake. Say it, now. Go! Everything starts moving in slow motion, I want to tell Jay that I care. That I care for him and what happens to him, and the feelings I have are so confusing it’s infuriating. But it’s as if I’ve gone mute and my throat is too dry to speak.

“Wait!” I call out as Jay’s hand encompasses the door knob. He looks back at me, his blue eyes only make it harder for me to speak.

“Yeah?” He questions as I stand there opening and closing my mouth trying to speak. He takes his hand off the door knob, and like magic my heart rate decreases and my vision finally begins to clear.

“I could use some help here, if you’re free,” I stutter out. He smiles and slips off his coat.

“Tell me where to start.”

Taglist: @whit85-blog @bestillmystuckyheart @nocturnalherb16 @5sos-imagine @miranda0102

#chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago one #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x oc

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justanotherwriter-fangirl · 4 years

Text

You Broke Me First (K. S.)

Words: 2,309 words

Warnings: Not that I can think of... maybe a couple curse words

A/N Hi!!! I’ve been working on this for a while so I wanted to post it before the requests I’m working on, it’s inspired by Tate McRae’s “You Broke Me First”. The lyrics will be italicized and I change the order a little bit but I hope you like it. Like always requests are open and feedback is always welcome <3

Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.

Thanks for reading

_______________________

Kelly and you had a lot of history, him being your friend since you were just childs, you knew everything about him or so you thought...

Like in all the cliché romantic movies, you fell for your best friend, hard, and even when it took several years, somehow along the way he asked you out wanting to make things between you two official, making you feel like the happiest and luckiest girl in the world that night.

As you grew up life started to get difficult but you always had each other, he became this super badass firefighter, soon turning into the lieutenant of the rescue squad 3 in firehouse 51, and you started working in your dream company as a executive assistant.

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else

With the pass of time you realized things were changing between you two, you knew that he didn’t like talking much about himself or his job, always carrying so much baggage with him but when he stop talking to you at all you knew something was different.

You both had crazy lifes, he had 24 hours shifts and you were most of the time busy as well, your boss being super demandant, but tired of missing him, one day you asked your boss for permission to leave early, your to - do list already done and everything ready for the next day, he wasn’t very pleased but even then he let you go.

It was your anniversary night and you thought some quality time together and a nice homemade dinner would make things better, attributing the lack of communication to your busy schedules, so that day you asked Shay to let you in, them being roommates for a couple years.

You had met Shay and the whole firehouse crew a couple times, they were Kelly’s family after all, so once in awhile when the CFD celebrated some big events you had the opportunity to interact with all of them.

Once everything was ready, you left the lasagna you had just made in the oven, not wanting it to get cold until Kelly arrived. You had set the table, lit some candles and choose some nice music to enjoy, now all you had to do was wait.

You sat on the table taking out your latest book to keep you entertained until he got home. One hour passed and you were already halfway done with your book, three chapters becoming ten and then fifteen, the candles almost all melted over the tablecloth, when suddenly you heard the lock of the door being open,

As fast as you could you tugged your book into your bag again and stood up to welcome him and surprise him with the dinner you had made but when you got sight of him, the surprised one was you.

He entered the room with a girl pressed to him, their lips never leaving each other as they started to rip each others clothes, immediately bringing tears to your eyes. He had not only forgotten your anniversary but he was also cheating on you, that completely explaining why you had been radio silenced.

“God, I love you, Royce” he said still unaware of your presence, eyes closed as he tried to take off her shirt, that’s when you couldn’t hold yourself anymore and a sob escape your lips bringing their attention to you.

You saw as his eyes opened up in surprise and just for a second you saw hurt in them, quickly being replaced for shame.

“(Y/N)...”

Before he could say anything else you grabbed your bag and left, not only exiting his apartment but his life too.

Took a while, was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I could've ever, you know that hurt

Swear for a while I would stare at my phone just to see your name

But now that it's there, I don't really know what to say

The first months after you caught him with another girl were the hardest you had ever lived, you still were so busy with job but that didn’t stop you from going to the bar almost every weekend to get drunk and call him. You knew it was stupid, he had someone else and every morning you regretted it, especially since he never picked up, but it was hard to stop.

After two months of the same thing, one night you decided to just stay home, tired of the same destructive routine that had you in tears and drunk most of the night, so you turned your phone off and put some movie marathon that was playing on the TV.

It wasn’t easy but eventually things got better and when you needed it the most a promotion was given to you, keeping you now busier than before and with almost not time at all to think about him.

It had been six months now, you were happy and you were living your life again when one night your phone ringed, his name appearing on the screen, you hesitated for a moment but still answer it, you had swore you would be friends forever and you had meant it.

“(Y/N)...?”

You're drunk at a party or maybe it's just that your car broke down

Your phone's been off for a couple months, so you're calling me now

I know you, you're like this

When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it

And like me, I did

“Please don’t hang up… I know that we haven’t talk in a while but I don’t know who else to call… I need your help”

“... What happened?” you said unsure of how to answer, you were expecting an apology, not this.

You knew you would regretted it but you couldn’t just say no, specially if he needed help, so like you had always done, you helped him.

It was stupid really, she was leaving to Spain and at first he thought he wanted to go with her, telling you all about his injury and how he thought he would never be able to do his job again but after he knew he could get a surgery that could fix him up in just a couple months, he didn’t know anymore what to do.

When he finished telling you everything you told him what he wanted to listen, you knew he already knew what to do, just wanted to hear it was okay. It had always being like that with him, always insecure about making the wrong decision.

“If you want to stay then stay Kelly, you love your job and helping people, I’m sure you will be unhappy if you leave, away from you family at the firehouse and away from doing what you love” you hold back the tears in your eyes and taking a breath to steady your voice you added “I know.. I - I don’t doubt you love her but I know you love your job more than anything so just keep that in mind” saying that had taking a lot from you so letting out a final sigh you said “I have to go Kelly, I have things to do. Take care and I hope you get better soon. Goodbye”

After you hung up, you cried yourself to sleep that night, how could he do that to you? Telling you all about how he was still with her, how he loved her and had planned to run away with her to Spain without thinking how much it would hurt you? Was he really that blind? That selfish? He cared that little about you? He didn’t even apologized for all the hurt he caused you.

But I ran out of every reason

Now suddenly you're asking for it back

Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve?

Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had

But I don't really care how bad it hurts

When you broke me first

You broke me first

A year flew by and when you least expect it you were back in Chicago after 2 months in London, a year ago you had been fired, your life was a mess and your heart was shattered but after hitting rock bottom you could only go up from there.

After that last call from Kelly where he asked you to help him a lot had happened, including a couple more calls from him that you refused to answer. That last time he made you cry also help you realize that you deserved better, yes, he had been your friend all your childhood and you had made everything in your power to be with him but looking back it was you who always tried the hardest to make it work.

So you focused on yourself, you started learning a new language and going to the gym, you applied for some new jobs and got a really good one as an executive so eventually you also moved from your apartment to a new one, you needed the fresh start.

Along with your new job came some new opportunities to travel, at first you got to know some other cities like Los Angeles, New York, D.C. or San Francisco but as your bosses were impressed with your commitment and hard work you got to travel to some other countries like México, Italy and most recently England.

Everything was going fine now and were ready to unpack your stuff before going to bed, the plane always leaving you so tired, until you heard a knock on your door. You had no idea who could it be, it was late and not a lot of people had your new address.

When you opened the door you couldn’t be more surprised.

“Kelly?”

“Hi, (Y/N)” he said scratching the back of his neck, he was nervous.

“What are you doing here? How… how do you get my address?” you said crossing your arms over your chest, you were no longer the woman who had cried for him a year ago.

“I asked around, it wasn’t easy but I really needed to see you, you changed your phone number”

“Yeah, I did. What do you want?” it hurt you a little to talk to him like that, you never imagined you would be in this position but you had justify him for so long, you were just tired now.

“You… I want you back, (Y/N)... I miss you”

What did you think would happen?

I'll never let you have it

What did you think would happen?

Now suddenly you're asking for it back

Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve?

Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had

But I don't really care how bad it hurts

When you broke me first

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, it was short and it kinda pained you but you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Sorry, it’s not really funny, it’s just that… where did you get the nerve, you know, to just come in here and tell me this like you hadn’t broke my heart a million times before?” you said watching him get more uncomfortable with every passing second.

“Look, I know I made some mistakes in the past but I really mean it, (Y/N), I miss you and I know I fucked it up but all I can think about is you, I lose my girlfriend and my best friend the same day”

“Yes, you did, when you cheated on my, may I add and not just that, Kelly, it wasn’t just like she was a one night stand, you told her you loved her in front of me on the night of our anniversary, you already had another relationship and I don’t know, I guess you just forgot to break up with me, you know?” you finished with sarcasm.

“You left, you didn’t even give me the opportunity to explain you anything” he said a bit exasperated, things were not going how he expected it and you were only raising your voice almost getting in a fight, not the definition of his perfect reunion.

“What were you going to say? I’m sorry? Because 6 months after that you called me to tell me all about the love problems you had with the woman you cheated on me with, then could’ve been a good time to apologize too, a little bit late but I was still willing to be your friend”

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s that what you wanted to hear? Because I do, I am sorry and more than anything I am sorry for being a jerk and letting you go, I never should’ve done that, please, just… give another chance, please, it kills me being without you” he finished with a whisper.

“No, I’m sorry but I won’t, Kelly, you’ve hurt me enough already. What did you think would happen? That you would just knock on my door after 18 months and everything would be fine? That I would throw myself at you and we would be what we were before all this?”

“No, I know and I don’t want to go back to what we were, I want better, I’ll be better for you, just, please, say yes…”

“I’m sorry but no, I’m better now, it took me a lot of time and effort but I finally got over you”

“C’mon, you’re killing me, (Y/N), please, don’t do this, you’re breaking my heart”

“You don’t get to say that, Kelly, not when you broke me first” and without any other word you entered back to your apartment and closed that door.

_______________________

Masterlist

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide one shot #kelly severide x reader #Chicago Fire #One Chicago #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire one shot #writing #writer #one-shot #oneshot #one shot #imagine #drabble

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nicolewoo · 4 years

Text

The Big Day Part 1

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader)

Synopsis: Although Joe hasn’t kept the destination a surprise, he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve, and one knocks the Y/N off her feet.

Warnings: Nothing. Just fluff and mention of a bad childhood.

Who the hell uses an alarm on vacation? I thought to myself as Joe’s phone beeped until he grabbed it and stopped the alarm. He rolled over and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in until we were spooning. As he settled back down, Joe grumbled for a second before quickly remembering what day it was and popping up excitedly. “C’mon babe. We’ve got big plans today.” Joe hopped out of bed quickly and tried to pull me up. Just as I was going to protest, there was a knock on the door.

“Out of bed, sleepyheads!” Dwayne yelled out. “Vanessa is here, Joe.”

Joe called out, “Do you ever sleep, dude?” We heard Dwayne laugh. “Be out in a minute.”

We quickly got dressed and were getting ready to join the others when Joe wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to a stop. I turned around to see what he wanted. “Now,” he kissed the tip of my nose. “Today, we are going to a Samoan Independence Day celebration, and you’re going to need a traditional, Samoan dress. Vanessa and Lauren are going to take you to a special store to get it.”

I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know Vanessa was here, and I’d only met her once. I knew the Samoan Independence Day was a big celebration. That must be the reason Vanessa, Dwayne and Joe came here. “Is this some sort of reunion?”

Joe nodded, “Yes. In our family, Independence Day is also a time to return to the land of our ancestors to reconnect to the land and each other.” I accepted his answer, but something was still off. He wasn’t telling me everything, but I trusted him. “They’re going to take you shopping now, and then we will meet you back here so we can get ready to go to the celebration.”

=============================================================

I’m not sure what I expected. The words “family reunion” conjured up a picture of people huddling in pavilions of parks with plastic tablecloths flopping in the wind and tacky matching t-shirts. Honestly, I’d never been to a family reunion, but this wasn’t what I expected to see.

We’d parked in a church parking lot and made our way to a giant house across the road, but instead of going in, we went around the side. As the party came into view, I was blown away. The ocean was just a couple hundred yards away from the house. A tent large enough to house a small village was set up in the middle with a small temporary stage under it. Another gargantuan tent was filled with tables, and food, set up in a buffet style. More giant tents dotted the beach between the house and the ocean. There was beauty everywhere. Honestly, it looked like a luau. Tiki torches, floral leis, rattan, flower arrangements on the tables and people dressed in everything from traditional Samoan clothing to shorts and t-shirts. There had to be at least 100 people there, and I’m pretty sure we were in someone’s back yard.

“Um. I forgot to bring a dish.” Joe admitted.

Dwayne put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I got ya covered.” He passed Joe to go greet people and called behind him, “We bought the pigs. You owe me $400.”

Joe put his hand on the small of my back chuckling, and explained that in Samoan culture, you never show up to a gathering empty handed.

“It’s Fa’a.” I smiled at him, and he looked surprised. “I’ve been researching Samoan customs since we got together.”

He grinned in delight. “Are you ready?” I wasn’t elated at the prospect of being around this many people, but I nodded yes. Joe kissed my forehead before we walked toward the party.

=============================================================

“Leati!” Joe’s dad greeted us with a surprised look. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He wrapped Joe in a giant hug.

“Thought I’d surprise you.” Joe beamed at the older man. “I brought a few people with me.”

“Dwayne!” Sika said as he hugged the bigger man. “Where’s your family?”

Dwayne called out to Lauren and she walked our way. “Lauren is here, and my daughters will be here soon.” His daughters would be here soon? I didn’t know that. “They’re coming with mom.”

Sika and Lauren greeted each other, and then the older man’s eyes fixed on me. “Leati, you’ve brought a young lady?” There was a deeper meaning to the way he said it.

Joe’s face lit up in the brightest smile, and he leaned over to whisper to his dad, who nodded back. Joe turned to me and introduced me. “Dad, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N, this is my dad Sika and stepmother Patricia.”

I gave them the warmest smile I could, even though Joe was keeping a secret from me. “It’s an honor.” I shook hands with them.

“Vanessa is here, and mom is coming today too.” Joe explained, and as he did Sika’s eyes got wider.

“We’ll have a fine time.” He smiled at me.

We stayed close to Sika and his wife as we ate, and that allowed me to relax and get used to everything. We didn’t start mingling until Joe was sure I was ready. He really was the sweetest.

=============================================================

We spent the first few hours talking to everyone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember everyone’s names, but Joe assured me it was ok. It didn’t take long though, before everyone knew my name. I gathered this was the first time Joe brought a date to this.

We ate, drank, talked, played with kids, and laughed. A variety of music played over a speaker system I couldn’t see; both what I’m guessing was traditional Samoan to current R&B hits and everything in between. There was a lot of laughter and good times. Everyone was so welcoming, that my normal social anxiety began to fall away.

As the party went on, more and more people arrived, including Dwayne’s daughters and Joe’s mom. I gave up trying to count. There were people everywhere. Children played freely, watched by all the adults. The elderly were waited on hand and foot, and everyone was having a great time.

The sun was low on the horizon when everyone took their seats. On the stage was a row of chairs with a larger, throne type seat in the center. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but there was an energy running through the crowd.

Joe guided us to a table off to the left side of the stage, and we waited as the guests settled down, some at tables, some on blankets laid out in the sand. “Vanessa,” Joe pointed to the other side of me. “Sit here, please.” She did and Joe’s mom sat on the other side of her. “Vanessa is an expert on Samoan culture and is way better at the language than me, so I’ve asked her to translate and explain the show for you.”

I turned and thanked Vanessa before asking, “What did he have to trade for your services tonight? She and I both laughed.

“Tickets to Super Bowl,” she answered.

“Nice!”

Men in traditional Samoan garb got on stage, and drums began to pound, bringing cheers and applause from the crowd. The men on stage lined up into two rows and began to dance. Vanessa leaned toward me, “They’re starting tonight’s program with a Fa'ataupati or Samoan slap dance said to have evolved from the moves involved in slapping away mosquitoes.”

=============================================================

We sat enjoying drinks as the show went on. Three dances later, and the seats on stage began to fill up with elders of the family. Vanessa translated as the high priest prayed for the island, it’s people and the state of the family.

3 young men and one young woman all in traditional clothing took the stage and lit batons on fire. Vanessa explained that in the past Samoans were explorers, who brought light and love to islands around the South Pacific, and the family honored them by sharing their light with us. The performers were amazing, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them, but as they began to throw fire batons to each other, I was mesmerized.

After the dances, everyone calmed down. The high chief sat on the throne type seat and greeted the crowd. Vanessa translated the whole thing. He began reciting the history of the family from generations ago until now. I listened intently while Vanessa translated. I’d done a lot of research on Samoan culture, but there was no way I could find out the history of the family, so I drank in every bit of information I could. After his opening speech, the dancers did 2 more dances.

The High Chief stood and addressed the crowd again. “It is tradition in our family that when a Samoan warrior finds his mate, the couple shall come to the elders of our family for a blessing on the union. Each elder will talk to them and counsel the high chief. After the elders, a witness can advocate for the couple. Then the chief takes that counsel and decides if the union will be blessed.” The high chief called a name out, and a young Samoan man dressed in traditional garb came to stand before the chief. He spoke a few words in Samoan, and then the chief called out another name. I watch as a stunning Samoan woman in traditional dress came forward, joining both hands with the man standing before the chief. She spoke a few words in Samoan. “What did the couple say?” I whispered to Vanessa. “They are declaring their love, much like wedding vows. Each person writes their own.”

Next, an older woman came to stand next to the couple. She looked just like the young lady, leading me to believe she was probably the woman’s mom. She placed her hands on the couple’s and spoke. Vanessa translated, “My beautiful daughter has grown to womanhood, and is ready to become a wife and mother. I am proud of the woman she has become, and Rangi has been a blessing to her. I feel this union will strengthen the family. I beseech the elders and our high priest to bless this union.”

The chief dramatically pondered, finally raising a staff like stick and pounding the bottom against the ground 4 times. The whole party erupted in rowdy cheers and applause. Immediately, two young girls no older than 6 or 7 came forward with leis they placed on the couple.

Then the chief came forward. He wrapped another lei across the couple’s hands. He laid his hands over theirs and began to speak. Vanessa was quick to translate, “The chief says that the elders of the tribe have observed the couple, and feel that the union will be a blessing to the family, and it is his honor to bless the union.” She paused for a second as she listened to him speak before smiling and saying, “As a family, it is our responsibility to mentor and counsel this couple as they journey through life. It is the family’s responsibility to help them raise the next generation of Samoans. He’s asking the tribe to pledge their support. I listened as the whole crowd recited something.

Finally, at a quiet word whispered by the chief, the couple kissed. Without warning, the young man knelt at the foot of the lady, catching a ring box tossed to him by a member of the family, and although I couldn’t hear them, I could tell he proposed. Her hands flew to her face and his smile lit up the whole party as she said yes.

Everyone went wild. There was applause, wild war cries and stomping and loud drums. After a few minutes, the chief banged his staff against the floor, causing everyone to settle down. “Settle down. Settle down. We will celebrate in a bit, but we have more business to handle.” I don’t know if I was more shocked that he was speaking English or that he was able to take control of the rowdy crowd so easily.

As the crowd took their seats again, he began speaking Samoan again. Vanessa translated, “It is our responsibility to care for those who are alone. I have been alerted that there is an orphan who is seeking admittance into our family. Please make your presentation.” Joe rose and took place in front of the chief. He began speaking Samoan, and this time Vanessa didn’t translate. Wait! Was he? Was he talking about me? Joe wanted me to join the family? Before I could even think about everything that meant, the chief called my name.

“Y/N. Please come stand by Leati.” He said in English. I did, feeling a bit of my social anxiety again, but when he took my hands and stared in my eyes, I relaxed. “Leati, you have asked that the counsel consider accepting this orphan into our family. Y/N,” the chief turned to me. “Have you parents to care for you.” The question was weird. I’m an adult… not a child, and yet, the answer was no. “Members of the family have observed you. Who in our family would like to accept Y/N?”

I was shocked as Joe’s father stood. I hadn’t noticed he was seated on the stage. He was an elder. Behind Joe, I saw his sister, Dwayne and Lauren stand. Then I noticed others standing. I scanned the room to find Joe’s mom, The Fatu brothers and Naomi, who I didn’t know were here, all standing as well as many of the people I’d met today. I hadn’t even seen The Fatus arrive. My heart swelled as the high chief smiled at me. “Y/N, it seems there are a number of family members who wish you to join our family. “Elders, what say you?” He turned to face the row of seats behind him. Answering one at a time, each member said “Ioe.”

Joe smiled at me and said, “That means yes.”

I was all smiles now. This show of support was beyond heartwarming. “Y/N. Our family is offering to accept you as one of our own, to care for you when needed, to support you when warranted and to love you unconditionally. Will you accept our invitation?”

“Ioe.” I answered and the crowd got rowdy again. The applause was drowned out by the cheers.

When the chief settled the crowd, Joe looked expectantly at him. “Leati has also asked for a blessing on this relationship. Do the elders agree to this blessing?

I listened as each one said “Ioe.”

“And who among the family will stand up for this couple? Suddenly a chorus of voices rang out yelling “Ioe. Ioe. Ioe.” I looked to find the Fatu families yelling the loudest, and I smiled sweetly at them. Sika stood, coughing to get the attention of the Chief, before saying, “Ioe”.

“Then it is an honor to bless this union.” The two young children came out to put leis on Joe and me before the High Chief laid a lei across our hands and spoke the same words he’d spoken with the other couple.

There was a terrifying moment as I wondered if Joe was going to propose as the first young man had, but when the Chief was done, Joe led me back to our table. Everyone stood for hugs and congratulations. I hugged and thanked everyone for their support. The Fatu families joined us now. “I can’t believe you’re here!” I said as I went to hug Naomi.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” John said to me. “Welcome to the family Sister Uce.”

Joe wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and pulled my body against his chest. “Welcome to the family Sister Uce.” He whispered in my ear.

I turned to face him. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“This is the family you deserve.” He kissed me softly.

Then I heard a voice I knew, but there was no way….. I found Jimmy had his cell phone pointed at me, and I realized we were in a group chat. Seth, Becky, John Good and Renee were all on the screen cheering me.

“Guys? You knew?” I grabbed the phone.

“Yeah! Dis is w’at we were hidin’ from ya’” Becks laughed.

“Well, you did it. You all really shocked me. Thank you!”

@mindofasagittaruis @lclb13

#joe anaoi #roman reigns

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pollylynn · 4 years

Photo

Title: Ditto WC: 1100

He thinks that if he had written Zhang as a character—if he had written the particulars of Henry Graham’s murder into one of the Nikki Heat books—he’d have ended up scrapping the whole damned thing for being too on the nose.

He doesn’t really see it as anything more than an unfortunate coincidence at first. She is uncharacteristically forthcoming about the problem with the newly minted Captain Klemp, and he’s not a fan of the way he muffed that entire interaction by assuming that she wanted to dish on an enemy or a friend who’d failed his way upward.

The smallness of her voice when she admitted she feels like she’s fallen behind is still rubbing his heart raw when they get to the crime scene, and he stumbles again. He means to tell her that he’s been there—that he has any number of postgraduate degrees in professional envy—but it comes off as dismissive when he calls it Patterson Syndrome. It make her laugh, and that makes him hope she’s bouncing back from the Klemp Catastrophe, but he wishes he could strike the right note here.

He especially wishes he had as the Zhang situation develops. He’s delighted by the legend of Zhang while it consists mostly of Ryan and Esposito eating a little humble pie. He is less delighted once it includes her impressive personnel file and Gates’ rapturous tones when she hands it over to Beckett. But it still seems like little more than an unfortunate coincidence that’ll need just a touch of course correction on his part.

That’s before Beckett turns into him.

It happens at the Jade Temple and it’s like a slow-motion car crash. Zhang is beyond pushy, beyond abrasive, beyond out of her you-are-here-as-a-professional-courtesy lane, and it knocks Beckett back. It has her scurrying across the restaurant, stiff armed with her badge extended before her. It has her standing, gaping, deprived of her witness by this week’s Special Guest Villain, who seems to think she’s Gotham’s OG Caped Crusader.

That’s when the hard, terrible truth comes out—she’s been web-stalking Zhang. She has some company in her gaping, then, as she zooms in on the husband, on the adorable children. Lord knows his jaw more or less hits the white tablecloth, because when did she even have time to web-stalk Zhang? More important, how is possible that she does not realize that her completely baseless feelings of inadequacy have taken her deep into Richard Castle territory?

He doesn’t have time to ask his rhetorical questions. He barely has time to recalibrate his Sense of the Problem Sensors before it’s not just Zhang, but the damned case itself that’s pushing her buttons like a bespoke button-pushing thing. There’s a swaggering FBI agent in a who does everything but actually Little Lady her in his outside-his-head voice, and it’s almost a shame he holds back. He thinks, quite possibly, that finding the absolutely most creative way to murder a man with a bolo tie might go a long way toward renewing her confidence in her inimitable bad-assery.

But Glassman does, just barely, hold back and the federal meddling stings. It echoes off wounds in the distant and not-so-distant past and he knows she must be thinking how differently this would be going down if she’d played it smarter and held on to the DC job.

He knows by the time the girls’ night comes up that Zhang and Henry Graham’s murder are entirely too on the nose for any unnecessary interaction with Zhang to be a good idea. But she goes. He gets waylaid by the boys and ends up doing an informative bit of self-owning.

This is my third marriage. I think I know what I’m doing.

But the thing is, he kind of doesn’t. And the boys are idiots—who, by the way, got simultaneously disarmed by Zhang, and he is in no way going to let them forget that—but the condescending assertion that people in a relationship need space is, coincidentally, on the nose.

He can’t fix the problem of Zhang for her. He can’t undo the fact that Henry Graham has got to evoke Mike Royce, that flying in the face of federal directive to stand down in the midst of a murder investigation is exactly the reason she got turfed by the Bureau, and by extension, exactly the reason she feels like she’s treading water at the NYPD.

He’d like to highlight–delete the whole damned thing for her, as lazy and trite a literary conceit it is, but he simply can’t. So he waits it out. He hangs back and bites his tongue when she gives him the whispered download about Zhang’s fraying marriage. He doesn’t suggest the couples web-stalking he would be very much into. He nods in sympathy as she explains how Zhang feels responsible for Henry’s death. He hangs back and gives the two supercops space to do their thing.

It turns out to be a painful thing—a collar that brings precious little satisfaction to anyone, but they both know how that goes, and at least they’ll bring down Mimi Tan. At least Zhu Yin will be free, as Henry had wanted her to be.

When he sees her with the laptop in bed, he wonders for a fleeting second if she’s given into the temptation again. He wonders for a fleeting second whether she’s him again and what on earth he’ll do about it.

She is him, sort of. She’s not web-stalking Zhang and her estranged husband. She’s not wondering if the juiciest details will be in Cantonese or the good old English-language tabloids. She’s writing, though.

She’s highlight-deleted Zhang and Henry Graham and all the on-the-nose resonances of the last few days. She’s pulled the thread and unraveled the problem and she’s starting with a list. That’s more her than him, of course, but there’s something else that’s the two of them together. It’s him plus her plus the accumulated lessons of the mistakes they’ve made.

She’s looking him in the eye and making the promise that he—that they—rank high, and any choices she makes about her career will happen in the full light of day this time. He feels unexpectedly a little teary. She’s pulled a thread within him, too—one that in his concern for her, he hadn’t realized needed to be pulled. He’s a little teary with relief.

It’s him plus her. A/N: The object is Beckett’s browser history on her phone? Hmm

.images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 7 #Castle: Hong Kong Hustle #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Javier Esposito #Kevin Ryan #Victoria Gates #Mike Royce #Fic #FanFic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Hmm

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my-brothers-corrupted · 4 years

Text

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Six : Old Friends

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Red is beginning to crumple under the pressure he puts on himself to take care of Dapper and the stress of being away from his siblings and Anti, but a new sliver of hope arrives in the form of someone who remembers his name. While Doktor has a breakthrough about the way he thinks of himself and his family, Trick is only being drawn closer to Anti as the days go by.

Trigger warnings in this chapter for serious discussions about abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, meltdown/panic attack, vomit, and police chase, including gunshot and injury warnings. Jackie’s meltdown in particular is very intense, so please be careful.

Section Six of Chapter Three: Old Friends

spicydanhowell asked: personally, i'd like to stay here and chat with him, red

The door and the handcuff on it jingle softly as Red returns, unlocking his makeshift cage and pushing into the door, his eyes low and tired and ashamed.

He’s dripping wet and his sweater stinks like filthy pollution rain. He throws it off as soon as he’s in the door and gives a long, deep sigh.

“Dap, how are you - oh.”

His little brother is asleep. Red gives up the ghost and shucks off the rest of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers. Wet fabric is horrible, horrible, horrible against his skin. He sits down on the end of Dapper’s bed and strokes his hair for a second, checking for life in him.

“Chat with him, huh?” mumbles Red. “Talk about something good?”

He’s distant and thoughtful, chewing on a hangnail, a couple bags at his side.

Anonymous asked: Red, the magicians have specifically said that they understand that you have killed the other but are willing to provide refuge for you to protect you. They only want to keep you safe, not letting past events get in the way of this

“Ah,” sighs Red. “Well, that’s… nice of them.”

He stares at the floor.

“Sorry… I know you want to help. I just can’t stop thinking about that house… and how everything was perfect. And it’s like even if I could get away from Anti…”

He laughs to himself, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, rubbing rainwater from his soaked face.

“I can’t get that back. I don’t know what it is to be actually happy anymore.”

He’s silent for a long moment, those faraway eyes fixed on the wall.

“Saw someone today,” he mumbles. “He reminded me of…. someone. But I didn’t know who. Someone important. But I couldn’t remember.”

Anonymous asked: Red, do you actually want to go back to Anti? After everything you saw when you went back in time? I don’t think you want Anti, I think he’s the only thing you’re used to and that’s why you want to go back. You want to go back to what was normal. Which is perfectly fine, but you know it’s going to be bad if you do Red. It’s never going to get better. You wanted to get better, right? If you go back to the environment that Anti built for you you’ll fall back in line again and everything you (1/?)

Red’s mouth starts trembling by about the third line, and by the time he gets to the end of the message, he’s holding his cold bare shoulders and rocking a little, deep, mourning sighs falling out of his mouth as he tries not to cry again. He cries so much lately. He’s just sad, he doesn’t mean to.

What if the only reason he wants to go back to Anti really is that it’s the only thing he knows? Is that why seeing the house changed everything for him?

“No, no,” he groans, rubbing at his face. “I… I’m supposed to be with Anti. We all are. He’s what makes us all who we are. And I - I’m big brother, that’s what I am, I’m Anti’s. If I’m not that, then…”

He clutches at his shoulders, gritting his teeth.

“I can’t start wanting this,” he hisses. “I can’t! It would make it too hard to go back to him. And I have to. I have to see the others again. I have to go back to that. It’s where I’m supposed to be. He told me…”

A moment passes. Dapper’s clock ticks.

“How would I even get away from him if I wanted to?”

Anonymous asked: You were big brother long before Anti had you.

Red’s mouth tightens with the guilt of it.

“Not a good one, then.”

He glances over at Dapper, underfed and pale, hungry and hallucinating on the shittiest motel mattress in the world, bed bugs eating away at him, old scars patterning his chest like latticework.

“If Anti really is bad,” he says slowly. “And he tricked us… I let them all be tricked. I didn’t protect them. Did I? Even now, I can’t take care of him.”

He glances at his gatherings from the day. He wanted to get rice or ramen, but they have no boiling water anyway. He has a Subway sandwich he got out of the trash and some expired bread he bought. But he didn’t steal anything. He knows the cops will be closing in and he’s afraid.

“I need help,” he says. “I need help. I can’t do this anymore.”

Anonymous asked: *softly* Red, if Anti was right outside that door would you open it? After everything you’ve learned? Would you let him back in your life because you’re scared or because you love him?

Red grits his teeth tight in his mouth, a flush of fear coming to his face.

“Look, I just… I can’t live without Anti. I’ll go to prison. I could starve. Dapper could die, sick as he is. Yes, I’d open it. I have to.”

He rubs at his face and then laughs, cold in the little room.

“Anyway… Anti doesn’t knock.”

Anonymous asked: It’s okay, Red, we can help. The magicians can help if you’re willing. Although we need to talk to them first before we can give you anymore information.

“Scared of magicians,” mumbles Ro. “I just want to go back to that house.”

Anonymous asked: hey, magicians!! dok!!! JJ and red!!!!! there’s been a fuck up!!!! stay the fuck away from the church okay!!! anti knows, you gotta get the fuck outta there

Rojo blinks, staring at you.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on - Anti knows where we are? Is he coming to get us?”

He looks back at Dapper again, a light coming on in his eyes.

“He has medicine and food and stuff? Where? The church?”

—————————————–

You find Dok walking stiffly down one of the yellow corridors with Genesis and JP talking calmly to him, leading him onward, out of his room. At the beeping of the message, Genesis flicks out her phone.

“Oh, no,” she says, her face falling.

“What?” asks JP.

Genesis turns and looks at them, putting a hand on Dok’s shoulder. He’s holding his favorite book in one hand, apparently for comfort. The Bridge of San Luis Rey. By Thornton Wilder. Set in Lima, Peru. Trick bought it for him in Norway. He knows the whole thing by heart.

“Let’s go sit down with the others and talk about it,” she says. “We all need some breakfast, huh, Wilder?”

bupine asked: heyyy, magicians. i'll cut right to the chase. i accidentally kinda gave the demon the location of the place you planned to meet red and dapper. i was giving the location to blue and trick, because trick seemed to be coming around to the idea of running away from anti and i wanted to help get them all together again. but trick was anti in disguise, and i didnt know until it was too late. i think he's coming to where you are. i'm so sorry, i really didn't know!

The magicians are having the same breakfast they always do - cheap, warm rolls with butter, cheese, ham, and apricot jam. Coffee, water, apples, and plates and silverware coat the white tablecloth of the long table, and by the time Genesis sits down, you are a part of the chatter and bustle of all of it. The three children you saw earlier are fighting over the last piece of cheese on their side of the table, Juana and Nina chat gently, JP wheels into place too hard and makes the whole table shake, and Genesis punches Hermann’s shoulder as she sits down beside him, making him laugh. The Old Man is sitting beside Emmanuela on the other end of the table and his eyes narrow coldly at Dok.

“Want to sit here, Wilder?” asks Hermann, patting his other side, and Dok slinks slowly down, ashen. Hermann passes him food and coffee to keep him distracted and begins chattering about his book to keep the conversation light.

“Actually,” Genesis cuts him off, her voice low with disappointment. “I, uh. Think there’s something everybody needs to know. Emmanuela?”

Emmanuela glances at you and pulls out her own phone, checking the system. For just a second, she closes her eyes, but then she has put the phone down again, and her face is calm.

“Well,” she says. “The more people know a secret, the more difficult it is to keep.”

“What?” asks Dok, frowning. “What is it?”

“We had told your brothers they could meet us at a place in town if they wanted to,” says Hermann. “But now it looks like the monster found out.”

Dok drops his knife.

hollenka99 asked: The church is going to be compromised. Anti has been reading some of our messages and discovered the plan. Is there anywhere else you could pick up the two brothers who are still on the continent if they wanted to come?

“I’d drive to get someone,” offers JP.

“No,” says Emmanuela. “You must continue searching for a way to help the sick magician.”

“No point,” scoffs the Old Man, smearing jam over his roll. He chooses to speak in Spanish and your translation software buzzes back to life. Dok shrinks away from his gaze. “I’ve told you already, magic that is stolen like that cannot return the same way it went out. A part of him is missing; he will be crippled for the rest of his life.”

“There might be other ways to return his strength or his magic to him,” insists JP, frowning. “Or even just to ease his pain.”

“I’ll go,” says Nina.

“You’ll risk nothing with the baby in your stomach. It’s pointless anyway, they’d have to be in Peru, in our jurisdiction. Some of our surrounding neighbors were not so amicable to the idea of us taking in those who helped the monster burn part of the forest down and kill more than one magician that night. If they are not in Peru and not willing to come back to us, we can’t help. And now, Peru might not be safe…”

She looks over at Doktor. His fists are bunched tightly in his white coat. He stares at his butter.

“You can’t move him,” says Nina, in Spanish too. “He hasn’t even adjusted to this place yet. He barely trusts us, let alone other magicians who might be angry at him for what the monster did to the jungle. His anxiety is too high even as it is and I don’t trust anyone else to look after him. He has to stay here, Mama.”

Anonymous asked: Red if you go back to Anti you will never make it to that house again. The magicians can help you, really, they’ve promised not to hurt any of you and they’d give you space and freedom that you’ve never had before. It’ll be the closest thing to “that house” at this moment. I know it’s scary but I promise they are good people with an abundance of compassion.

“Well,” sighs Red, rubbing the back of his neck. “Doesn’t sound like that’s an option now anyway.”

Just about starved, he reaches for the wrapped up sandwich and begins to pull the paper off, hoping to find that it isn’t gross from the trash. Luckily it was wrapped up tight and it looks fine, just badly burnt on one side, which is probably why it got chucked.

“Ugh, tuna,” he grumbles, but he isn’t really in a position to complain. He pulls off his half of the sandwich and begins to eat, and a moment later, there is a small white hand sneaking towards the other half of it.

Red can’t help but laugh. “You can take it, it’s for you.”

But Dapper doesn’t smile back at him even as he takes the sandwich and grabs it to his chest, glaring around the room, his face twitching badly, his eyes constantly flickering up to the lights. Up, up, up.

“Something up there?” asks Red, trying to be gentle.

“Locked me in my room,” growl Dapper’s hands. “Angry.”

“Alright,” grumbles Red, turning away from him before he can get pissed. Dapper gives a little gasp as something grabs his ankle, but when he pulls his foot out of the blankets, there’s nothing there. He stares sorrowfully down at his tuna and clicks for attention.

“What?”

“Maggots!”

Red looks at his sandwich.

“No, there aren’t. It’s tuna. You’re seeing things. Please eat it. You need to get some strength back.”

Dapper gags and sets it down, watching the meat writhe. Red sighs.

cest-mellow asked: magicians, when this gets to you, anti knows about the church and he knows you guys are in lima still

“He knows where I am,” mumbles Dok, barely loud enough for anyone to hear him, clutching at his coat. “He knows I’m here, he’ll come get me.”

He chew on his lip for a second, his eyes foggy with the shock of it.

“Santo Domingo,” he mumbles to himself, holding his book tight to his chest.

Anonymous asked: Hey dok how are you handling things right now?

He is not going to cry at the breakfast table. He is not going to cry in front of strangers. He is gripping his coffee cup very tight.

“I want,” he says, with a strong voice but weak air. “To see Trick again.”

Emmanuela nods at Hermann, who leaves your view for a moment and comes back with a tray. Genesis starts loading Dok’s breakfast onto it and Dok is grateful for the permission to flee, even if he only got here a minute ago. Before they have everything ready for him, he has already run away, back to his room, where he always stays.

Nina gets to her feet. Everyone looks at her.

“What?” she says. “He’s already freaked out. Might as well go ahead and do that check-up I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh, Nina, be gentle with him,” groans Hermann.

“Being gentle is all well and good for a while,” she says, following after him. “But sometimes if you want to set a bone back in place, you have to shove real hard.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Magicos, please be cautious with Dok. He can have quite the temper when he snaps.

“Oh, a temper, huh?” says Nina, putting up her chin. “I hope he comes at me. I’ll kick his stubborn little teeth in. No, I don’t mean that. But he better not try anything!”

She heads down the corridor that leads to his room, her med bag thrown over her shoulder.

“You know, I was married before JP,” she says. “And he was an ass. But I wouldn’t leave him. He got worse and worse as the years went on and I wouldn’t leave him. Because I loved him and he was all I knew and it was just too much, to admit that I had been that wrong about him in the first place. Eventually it was JP who pounded it into my head that he was a shitbag. I was furious with him at the time - cut him out of my life, actually. But he told me the truth when no one else could, and because of that, I was finally able to…”

She’s stopped outside Dok’s open door.

One of the backpacks is missing and he isn’t inside.

“Oh, fuck,” she says. “Just like that, huh?”

Anonymous asked: Magicians, ever since the demon stole Marvin's magic, he's becoming physical. He has actual blood now. He's becoming corporeal. It may be a stretch, but I think, maybe if you team up with tons of you, you can actually kill him. Maybe start planning for something big. He's headed your way, he thinks two of the brothers will be at the church. Don't send your men there. Stay hidden until there's a more concrete plan.

“Don’t think I don’t see these too,” snarls Dok, his breathing shaky and afraid. He’s moving swiftly down past a great white wall. “You and them - you’re going to hide me from Anti and hurt him if he comes for me!”

immabethehero asked: Hermann, Genesis? Anti, the demon with the magician's magic, knows where dok is. he knows where red and dapper are too. you might wanna find them before anti finds you both

“Oh, he knows where the others are too?” worries Juana from the other side of the table. “He will snatch them up again. How are we to - ”

“Hey,” shouts Nina, reappearing in the dining room. “He made a run for it just like that. Let’s get up and grab him before he goes far.”

“He won’t make it anywhere,” says JP, blinking. “Sure you don’t want to just let him tire himself out trying to find a way to escape?”

“He’s cleverer than you think he is,” warns Nina, her eyes flashing. “And I’m worried about what he might do to himself trying to get out.”

“Go look for him,” says Emmanuela. “But be careful. He is not a large man, or a particularly strong one, and I wouldn’t even call him a fighter - but sometimes, men like that must learn ferocity to make up for it. You don’t know where his head is. Go.”

Anonymous asked: H, what are you doing?

“Where are Red and Dapper?” he says, ignoring you. “Close? Are they safe? Could I get to them by bus? Do they know about the church yet? We’ll have to pick somewhere else since the magicians now about that one. Depending on where they are there are several places we could choose. I’ve been here too long. I’ve been here much too long. Complacent! What would Trick think if he knew I’d just been waiting? That I’ve abandoned him, most likely! No more. Time to go. It was stupid of me to wait here.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, no one is going to hurt you...well, except for Anti who WILL when you get back.

“I don’t care,” snarls Dok. “I don’t care. That’s my family. That’s where Trick is, and Blue, who needs me, he’s ill. And the others will all be there. You think I don’t know Anti hurts me? Anti’s always hurt me. Me and Trick, we linger at the edges of his affection. Trick’s always striving for it, but me - ”

His eyes shine with moisture. His mouth trembles but his voice does not.

“I know my place. I know who I’m supposed to be. And a spoiled little hideaway - eating jam and rolls while my brothers struggle without me to look after them - no, that is not who I am. Let Anti torture me. He knows where we stand. I don’t care about him.”

But this only deepens the hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t, I don’t! I can live without him loving me! I can, I can! I accepted it a long time ago, so why does it never stop burning in me like this? I have to take care of the others. No one can take care of me. It’s not who I am and it never will be. I belong at the bottom of the pack!”

Anonymous asked: Dok please don’t leave

“Stupid magicians,” laughs Dok, almost wild with it, his face burning as he moves, approaching a high black gate. “That’s what they get for all eating together. For all being equals. If it was my home, Trick would be guarding and no one would escape.”

He leaps onto the black gate and, with a dexterity you’ve only seen Red embody, he begins to hoist himself up, pressing his feet against the slick bars of the gate and reaching up for the bar at the top.

“I know something magical hides this place,” he murmurs, his eyes flashing. “I hear the way they talk. My memory is perfect. I’ll figure it out. They can’t keep me here. I am Anti’s brother and Red’s and Dapper’s. I am sly and strong and crafty too. I can be everything I need to be. You have to be, in my family, or you’ll regret it.”

Anonymous asked: Dok then convince your brothers to come to the magicians! It’s safe with them you know that!

“They don’t like Anti! They’ll hurt him! He’s a part of me! He made me what I am! I’m nothing if I’m not with him.”

His hands reach the bar on top and he throws himself over the side, tearing a deep line in his beautiful white coat and gasping as it bruises hard along his ribs.

“Fuck!” he wails, grabbing his side, but it’s just pain, and pain for Anti’s sake, and how many times has it been pounded into his head that that is worth it, worth it, worth it, deserved. Your fault. You shouldn’t have let her grab you in the first place, Doktor. You shouldn’t have let yourself be stolen when your family needed you. He needs someone to punish him. He needs Anti.

bupine asked: henrik, no one deserves to be treated like shit. none of you should be "bottom of the pack", you should be equals. that's how family is supposed to be. you and your brothers deserve so much better than that.

“I could have run any time I wanted to,” says Dok, and his voice shatters, but he’s still trying to keep running, out into woods now, great woods of flowering trees. “I could have! Blue pulled me down to the beach. He doesn’t remember but I do. I was never strong enough to fight Anti. I’m not strong enough to be alone. I don’t know why I don’t leave him! I don’t know! I don’t want to have to think about it anymore! It’s not fair! I’m so fucking good for him!”

He screams and his feet fail him and he crashes to the ground for a second, stone grinding against his skin as he cries out. He can hear someone shouting behind him.

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m good all the time! I’m not disobedient, I don’t fail him! I don’t ask for things! I don’t complain! I’m good but I’m still not enough! If I was enough he wouldn’t treat me that way! That’s why I’m at the bottom, there’s something wrong with me.”

He screams again, striking a tree as he rises and keeps running.

“I don’t deserve to be free or treated well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But if there wasn’t something there, he wouldn’t treat me like this. He would love me like he loves Dapper. He doesn’t. So I deserve it. I deserve it! I have to be better. Maybe if I come back to him he’ll be pleased with me. But even if he doesn’t, I know I’ll keep bearing it. I don’t know why! I don’t know!”

asexualzucchini asked: Jackie, Henrik, JJ, anti is physical. He can be hurt now

Doktor nearly stumbles back down to the earth again, his breath catching in his throat, crashing into a tree and coming to a halt, panting.

“Anti is what?”

——————-

Ro’s head whips up, alarmed. “I’m - what did you say? That’s not possible. That’s not what Anti is.”

Dapper is staring at his own hands, confused.

“Physical…? Lastingly?”

“That’s why he can’t find us,” gasps Red, rising to his feet. “He can’t just zap over here and look!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, he would have found you by now if he wasn't physical. He can't find any of you without access to a computer.

Red stalks around the motel room, chewing on the hangnail again, thinking, while Dapper watches him and the monsters swirling around him with big tired eyes. He is holding his bear close to his ear so he can hear it better when it speaks.

“You know what this means, right?” says Red. “We have to find a way to tell him where we are without him tracking exact signals. We have to cause a scene. I need to go out again. I - I’m going to get in a fight with the cops! Then he’ll know exactly where we are! And even if I get arrested, he’ll come take care of you!”

“I was not,” Dapper is signing to his bear, apparently cross. “And I didn’t - no! None of you ever listen to me. Of course, but that’s just what dead things do.”

Red isn’t watching him. He’s tugging back on his soaked clothes and shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

Anonymous asked: Red what the fuck? That’s the worst idea! No! Don’t do that! What are you thinking?

“Then Anti will know where we are!” he says, panting a little. “It’ll be in police records, news, things he can access from far away, without having to be right here! And he’ll know exactly where we are and when he comes back he’ll be able to find Dap and maybe me too if I get away. Dap, I’ve got the room for a couple more nights, so you can just sit tight here, right?”

“Red is going to lock me in again!” cries Dap to his bear, and crumples back onto the bed with real distress.

“Hopefully I’m back in an hour or two, but if not, Anti will come scoop you up and then everything will be okay.”

“Just trying to sacrifice himself so he feels like he’s my hero! Stupid Red! Don’t leave me here! I want to go with you!”

“Dapper, no.”

“Better fighter than you are!”

“No, you are not!”

Dapper is sitting ram-rod straight on his bed suddenly, his blue eyes flashing.

“Beat you. Gas station. Beat you.” He pauses and blinks and then whirls on his bear. “No, I don’t want to do it again!”

Red shrinks slightly away from him, startled.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, you think Anti loves Dapper? Really? You think he loves the one he infantillizes, the one he locks away, the one he isolates from the rest of you, only to let him out when he can kill someone in Anti's name? That's not love. Anti doesn't love Dapper, or you, or any of your brothers. Everything he's ever done has proven that.

Doktor tries to push himself back up and keep going, grabbing at his face for a second, coughing.

“He… he beats Dapper and locks him in. Sometimes I hear his little nails scraping against the door. And he wants to be with the rest of us, but that’s not… Anti can’t just be - ! Please, stop saying these things! I can’t stay here any longer, I’m beginning to wish I could stay…”

He shoves himself onward, racing through the trees, until he sees the end of them, and pushes through at last, revealing the -

Exact… same convent he just escaped from?

“Wilder!” calls Hermann, opening the black gate he leapt over, except now it’s on the right side of the building instead of the left. Doktor blinks, aghast. “Come back, please! You’ll just exhaust yourself!”

Doktor backs away towards the woods again, panting. He needs to hide, then, if running won’t work!

spicydanhowell asked: Red. I say this lovingly when I say: Get your head out of your ass. Anti is physical, and stealing Blue's magic is tearing him apart. He is too sick to hunt you down. If you get yourself locked up, you will just rot in prison. Anti could easily die in the state he's in right now. And then where will we be? You'll be behind bars, and Dap will either be kidnapped or arrested or murdered or hospitalized or something if he doesn't just die alone without you. Please just do what's right for Dapper.

“I can’t do anything right for Dapper!” shouts Red, slamming his hand against the wall and then regretting it, immediately, when it makes Dapper jolt. “I’m sorry.”

Dapper turns away from him and curls up in his bed.

“I… don’t have to get into a fight, per say,” decides Red, rubbing his hands along his wrists, trying to calm himself down. “But he can’t go on like this. I’m breaking into a pharmacy. Dap, I’m going to go now, before they talk me out of it. I’ll come back with antipsychotics or I won’t come back. Okay? It’s my job to take care of you.”

“We used to be equals,” moan Dapper’s hands frailly. “We used to look after each other.”

He buries his face in his pillow, and so it is that Red misses the faint silver light coming back to his eyes.

“I’ll get you help tonight, bud. Something has to change. We can’t go on like this. Goodbye, Dap.”

He’s shoving his bag back into order already, refusing to so much as look at Dap. Refusing to listen.

Dapper shivers and holds himself. A million voices are laughing at him. The great time traveler, helpless again, alone as always.

“He’ll come back,” hisses Dapper, tears and anger welling in his eyes as his hands flash. “I will make him come back if I have to. I am an adult. I get to make choices too! He’s right about one thing - something has to change tonight. I’ll show him, if he won’t listen. I’ll show him!”

The clock in his hand is burning so hot you see his palms turn black.

Red scoops up the camera and leaves, locking the door behind him.

Anonymous asked: You will not be able to help your brothers like this. Anti will more than likely tear you all apart from each other the minute he finds you all. You won’t be able to take care of anyone like that. If you brought them to the magicians you’d be able to do your job with an abundance or resources at your disposal. Think about this Henrik, please.

You sit with Henrik curled beneath a bush. He’s grabbing at his head, rocking himself a little, wishing for Trick.

“No, I hate this,” he cries.

The birds are singing and the sun is clear and everything smells of flowers.

“I hate being with strangers instead of my family. I hate that no one here understands. I hate that I have to struggle with this! I don’t want to! It’s too hard, I can’t do it! You don’t know how fucking badly it will hurt. I can’t just accept this - that so much of my life has been a lie. That so much of it has just been a humiliation!”

He is weeping into his hands. Into his coat. Into the earth.

“It can’t be true,” he sobs. “It’s too horrible. I don’t want it to be true. I’m not strong enough. I think about it all the time. You don’t understand. I can’t stop thinking about everything he’s done to me and telling myself - no, no, I must be remembering it wrong, or I must have deserved it, or - ”

“Weird how abuse works, isn’t it?”

Dok chokes and whirls, turning to see Genesis standing a few feet away, kicking up the dust around her feet, leaning against a tree.

“How did you - ”

“Transportation, remember? I just checked about every spot in the forest. You aren’t great at hide and seek, are you, medico?”

Dok rubs hastily at his face. Just one more humiliation.

“I wasn’t… I’m not… I’m not abused. I’m not. He can’t have.”

Genesis lets out a long sigh, and then she glances at you.

“You guys have internet, right? Can you tell me some of the symptoms of abusive relationships?”

“Don’t,” croaks Dok. “Don’t…”

“If it’s not true, you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

Anonymous asked: H, you can stay. Just give the magicians a chance. You don’t have to figure out or unravel every inch of your trauma tonight but you can go back and figure it out bit by bit with help. It’s okay to want something that Anti does not, it does not make you incompetent or disobedient. You are allowed to make your own choices, you are an adult and you are free.

“No,” mumbles Doktor, exhausted. “No. No more middle ground. I can’t bear the back and forth. Either he hates me or he loves me. Either I must be trying to get back to him or I must be staying here. All week I’ve been ‘bit by bit.’ And yes, wanting something Anti doesn’t want… that would be disobedience. I disobey or I run back to him.”

Hermann, panting, has caught up to Genesis, and when he catches sight of Dok he rushes forward to help. But his friend’s hand comes out to stop him, holding him back.

“Give him a moment,” says Genesis. “Give him a moment. Wilder, you already know what the truth is.”

Dok shakes his head, gripping his hair.

Anonymous asked: Sorry Henrik... “A more sophisticated form of psychological abuse is often referred to as “gaslighting.” This happens when false information is presented with the intent of making victims doubt their own memory, perception, and sanity. Examples may range simply from the abuser denying that previous abusive incidents ever occurred to staging bizarre events with the intention of confusing the victim.” (1/?)

Doktor covers his face with his hands.

He remembers a great white burn on Trick’s hand. Anti told him to take care of themselves while he was away. Trick was cold. He started a fire for them. When he came back, Anti punished him for disobeying him. Trick didn’t know the smoke was against the rules.

‘You should have,’ said Anti. ‘You should have.’

Trick’s hand is still burned. Mind games. Haldol they were never told to pick up from the pharmacy.

“He just has a bad temper,” groans Doktor. “That’s all.”

Anonymous asked: “A common form of emotional abuse is “I love you, but…” That may sound nice at first, yet it is both a disguised criticism and a threat. It indicates, “I love you now, but if you don’t stop this or that, my love will be taken away.” It is a constant jab that slowly strips away your self-esteem. Abusers get a lot of reinforcement out of using the word “love” as it seems to become a magic word to control you.” (2/?)

“Anti doesn’t care enough to tell me he loves me,” mumbles Dok. “So that one… doesn’t count.”

Anonymous asked: “Abusers at times do what I call “throw you a bone.” The partner was “nice,” “complimentary,” “gave me a gift,” etc. as if it should erase all of the bad treatment. You need to understand that this is part of the dynamic and cycle of abuse.” (3/?)

Candles on Hanukkah.

Doktor is sobbing.

Hermann comes up beside him and puts his hand on his shoulder, in silence.

Anonymous asked: He doesn't want you to know it yet; can you respect that a little longer? You can call him Doctor, or Doctor H?

Genesis sighs, running her hands through her hair.

“I guess? I mean, at some point - ”

“No,” says Nina.

She steps up beside them, her hand on her belly.

“Medico, look at me.”

Dok stares at the earth. Hermann’s hand soothes the muscles of his arm.

“You aren’t just realizing this,” she says. “No one just realizes things like this. Things like what they told you. For months, you’ve suspected. All week, I think, you’ve known. You’ve known. It’s just scary. I know. Trust me, I… I know. But you don’t have to get stuck. You don’t have to be the person he told you to be.”

She leans down, crouching beside him and Hermann.

“What’s your name?” she says. “What’s your real name?”

bupine asked: his name is henrik von schneeplestein, genesis.

“Anti stole it from me,” he tells her. “He stole it. It isn’t mine anymore.”

“Then take it back,” Genesis answers, above all three of them. Her short dark hair, cut by Anti’s hand, is beginning to grow out again.

Scars along his arms, along his hands. Wind in his hair and earth beneath him.

“Take it back. It’s yours again, or it could be, if you wanted. Come stay with us. Really, this time. Come stay with us. Start trying to take it back.”

Hermann is holding on to him. “My friend,” he says. “No more denying the past.”

Doktor looks at him, and meets his eyes, and sees Trick in him.

“My name is Henrik,” he says, very softly. “I fix hearts.”

Anonymous asked: hey dok? i was really attached to an abuser too. even though he told me that real things that i remembered happening weren't real and he pushed my down a flight of stairs and kicked me under the table and pinched my arm, i was so attached to him, and i thought i would be nothing without him. but the thing is that that's just what abusers teach you to think. they teach you that you are vulnerable and worthless and that they are the only one who can take care of you, but it's not real. i'm sorry.

“Sometimes we can’t see it for what it was until we’re out,” murmurs Genesis, and Nina nods with her, because they know, they know.

“Shit,” whispers Henrik, with fervor, hiding his face again. “Shit.”

They let him sit there for a long time.

“I always let myself believe it was just a bad temper… or that we had to live the way we did, because we were hiding.”

A pair of finches chase each other through the branches.

“And the memory loss, fuck… I knew something had been taken from me, but I couldn’t admit it. It was too frightening, knowing he might have really done something so horrible. Taken my life away from me… taken everything. Except Trick. I guess that’s why I stayed. He gives you one thing to hold on to… and when you only have one thing left, you can’t let it go.”

Hermann has put his head down on his shoulder.

“But so often the thought occurred to me - this isn’t right. I shouldn’t let him. He can’t do this to us. But I never stood up. I was too weak.”

“It’s not weakness,” murmurs Nina. “It’s survival. Henrik… you survived.”

He’s here.

He’s alive.

He’s still fighting.

“You’re still surviving.”

Anonymous asked: H, you are enough, you’ve always been enough. If I could I’d give you the biggest hug right now, schatz. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, nothing would change if you tried to prove yourself to him, nothing, and it’s not because you aren’t enough it’s because he doesn’t know what having a family means, he doesn’t care about family he just wants attention, all of it. You have proved time and time again that you are stronger then him, you are kind and grateful, you are so much more than enough.

He’s so fucking tired.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, to all of you, and means it.

It’s just a start.

But he’s waited a long time for the chance to start again, if only in the smallest ways, if only in a whispered name, if only in a tiny, powerful admittance he makes to himself, a secret that has been building in his chest for months and months and months:

Maybe I’m not the problem.

Maybe Anti is not what he tells us he is.

Maybe Anti is not even a part of my family.

I can’t let him treat my family the way that he does any longer.

No more excuses.

“Medico, you okay?” asks Hermann gently.

“Thank you,” Henrik repeats in a mumble, his body going a little limp, and Hermann startles and reaches up to grab his other shoulder, giving a small gasp when Henrik slumps back against him, his eyes suddenly gone glossy and dull with exhaustion, and when they call his name, again, again, he does not answer, breathing slow and tired through his nose and staring down at the ground, his hands flexing gently.

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

Anonymous asked: Oh my god, is what you said true Anti? Really? You're just doing this all so pwecious mastew will notice you. All you ever wanted was Jack's attention. Makes sense the 7 year old acts like a toddler. I know these asks make you pissy. Not the type of attention you're looking for hm? I bet you wish we would love you again. Or that any of your brothers would love you without mind control. Or that Jack would let you anywhere near him.

Trick and Anti are sitting together in the living space. You hear a bag rustling as they share a tube of Ritz crackers, their legs close together, their heads bent down.

“Yeah, okay, but Anti, you can do it without glitching it out!” giggles Trick.

“Those ones aren’t - Sometimes I just glitch, you little ass!”

Trick laughs hard, poking the screen to distract him, and Anti growls and shoves against his shoulder. Trick shoves right back, and pretty soon, bent over a clean little Nintendo Switch, they are all but wrestling. Determined, Anti keeps the Switch in his hands even as he pushes Trick back against the empty steps and squishes him into the ground, his body tangible and warmly heavy on top of Trick’s own.

“Ah! Uncle, uncle!”

“What was that? What was that? Sorry, I’m killing these goblin things, I can’t - ”

“Anti!”

Anti gets off him, smirking, and Trick groans in fake hurt, flopping across the stairs. After a moment, Anti pauses the game and turns to look at him, handing him the Switch back. He lets out a long, thoughtful sigh, running his eyes over Trick.

“What?” murmurs Trick, smiling at him. He reaches out to touch Anti’s head, tangling his fingers through his hair for a second. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it. You like your thing?”

Trick hugs the Switch to himself, humming.

“Yeah, I thought you would. Game consoles are easy, you can have any game you want.”

“You look tired.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Anti, leaning back to lie beside him. “Go on, play. You can tell me about it. I like to watch.”

“Oh, I wanted to check in with the cameras today.”

“Okay,” says Anti, rubbing at his face and tossing another cracker into his mouth.

Trick hands him a camera and Anti re-enables your voices.

Trick’s face falls a little.

“Is this how they talk to you?”

Anti’s eyes slid slyly open at you as Trick reads through the messages.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, but Trick, with a little frown on his mouth, scoots a little closer to him and puts his hand down on his knee, soothing his palm across the bone. Anti allows it, relaxing, his eyes circled slightly in blue.

Anonymous asked: I fucking knew it that bastard, “what part of this doesn’t look like I’m taking care of him” arrogant asshole I hope it bites him in the ass

“He is taking care of me,” protests Trick, sinking down beside Anti. “He is!”

Anti glances out of him out of the corner of his eye, humming fondly as Trick continues his nervous shuffle towards him, always wary of being pushed away. Anti’s eyes flicker across his body and then he reaches out to hook an arm around Trick’s waist, squeezing him closer, and Trick all but melts.

“Things aren’t easy right now,” says Trick, staring up at him. “But we’re doing okay.”

“Of course you are,” says Anti, and for a second his eyes swim deep, deep black, and Trick sways a little beside him, clutching woozily at his knee.

“Mm-hm,” he mumbles, smiling at him. “Of course I am.”

Anonymous asked: damn... we can't even call him a glitch bitch anymore, anti's practically a flesh boy

“Yeah, that’s been weird, hasn’t it?” murmurs Trick, leaning back against his chest. “But it’s like on and off, really strange. You feel tangible now.”

“I’ve always been able to seem tangible.”

“Mh.” Trick tugs at the laces of his hoodie. “I hear you coughing sometimes at night.”

“It’s not as bad as it was. Maybe the curse will settle soon.”

“I hate those magicians,” grumbles Trick, his hand reaching out to snatch Dok’s handheld on the ground beside him. “They should come after you again, I’ll show them who they fucked with.”

“Of course.” Anti seems relaxed by his blood-thirst. “And then steal your Dok back.”

“Yeah! So you think he’s okay?”

“Good reason to think he is,” says Anti, glancing at you.

“Hell yeah,” beams Trick. “Next week?”

“Next week.”

Trick snuggles down against his chest.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Was that really necessary, Anti? He's already a puppy to you. Leave poor Trick alone.

“He’s happy, what’s the matter?” snaps Anti, ignoring a bewildered look from Trick. “He’s happier than any of his brothers right now, I guarantee. It’s easier to be right here with me, isn’t it, lil Stammer? Isn’t it?”

Trick laughs and blushes, nodding.

Anonymous asked: trick, pick your side. anti just ripped blue out of his hospital bed and broke his nose, and told him he'd never be free. so either go to him, and turn your back on anti for good, or put your muzzle and collar back on, and sleep at his feet. anti's dog, or blue's brother? it's about time you decided.

Trick’s face falls.

He looks up at Anti, and then down at you, and then up at Anti again.

When he speaks, his voice is soft.

“Did you really break Blue’s nose?”

Anti is interested in his nails. His ears are pink, and, today, so are his cheeks, changing color with the anger and the other feelings in his eyes, emotions you’re not sure you recognize.

“Got upset with him,” growls Anti, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trick pauses, his mouth slightly open.

“You… can’t be doing that. What was he going to do, Anti? He’s too sick to do anything.”

“He was being - ” Anti hisses and rubs at his face. “He was being - I got pissed off, okay, I wanted him to come home!”

Trick stares at his shoes, picking at the laces. Immaculately clean Converse, given to him by Anti a long time ago.

“Me too,” he says. “But can’t be hitting him.”

“Whatever, Trick, listen to them, then!” says Anti, suddenly screaming, and Trick jolts hard, curling slightly in on himself. “I get it, alright, nobody wants me if they’re not out of their fucking mind, I get it! You can prove them right, you can be like the rest of your brothers, you think I can’t feel my strings loosening, you think I can’t tell they’re being changed while they’re away from me? And my own body is a weapon to me now, sure, listen to them!”

Trick is on his feet, his head down, heading towards his room.

“I get it, I know, don’t you think I don’t know, I know and I always have known!” he shrieks. “You can go like the rest of them, you can leave me behind, everyone does, sure, listen to them, you can’t be my brother’s and Blue’s, too, right, is that what they said? Fine, run away, go ahead! I know! I know!”

Anti slumps back against the stairs, seething, his eyes brown and his teeth clenched. He digs his nails into his palm and hisses, trying to calm down. There are scorch marks where his hands touch the ground.

“Whatever,” he growls, biting his teeth at nothing. “Whatever… I don’t need anybody, I don’t - ”

Footsteps come back towards him.

Anti stops short, turning his head, and when he sees Trick, his whole face slackens.

Trick steps slowly towards him. Anti reaches out in bewilderment, a strange look in his eyes.

When he finally reaches your view, you can see Trick’s collar, tucked safely into his backpack, latched around his throat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” says Trick.

His voice is level. His eyes are clear. He sits down at Anti’s feet.

“I’m not ever going anywhere.”

Anti is shell-shocked, staring at him, winded. Weird thing about being physical is the new feelings it comes with - like something grabbing your heart and warming it between their hands. His cheeks are very red.

Trick leans forward.

Anti grabs him and hugs him tight to his chest, squeezing him down, down, down, holding him.

“Cameras off again?” asks Trick, muffled against his stomach.

“Cameras off again,” whispers Anti, and, grabbing you, he turns you off and throws you away.

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

aether-mae asked: Red, maybe you failed to protect them in the past, but if you continue to let them be returned to Anti after everything you’ve seen, then your still enabling their torture. You need to put your foot down and end this. Choose to do good, despite everything

Red breathes out a shaky sigh, staring down an alleyway at the lights of a tattered drug store.

“Choose to do good, huh?” he mumbles to himself, his hood drawn over his head.

The truth is he doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. Nothing feels clear cut. To lock Dapper in his room feels bad, but to let him come along and get hurt or run free and have an episode alone would be bad too. To go back to Anti has begun to feel frightening, but to continue living this way with Dapper so sick could be worse. Maslow’s Pyramid is boxing his morality in - with an empty stomach and a hallucinating brother, just about anything that eases his pain feels like the right thing to do. Killing people is wrong, but self-defense is good. Stealing is wrong, but taking care of Dapper is good. Who is he supposed to turn to? Where is he supposed to go? For a rare moment, he feels something in him cry out for the cold pews of that run-down church where they hid, but God’s never helped him before and he doesn’t expect salvation now that he’s done so many things nobody should ever do.

“Just let me try and get him some medicine,” murmurs Red, moving towards the drug store. “Maybe cause just a little trouble, so Anti at least has an idea… I can always choose to run later, but I just - I just can’t do this alone anymore.”

And he does feel alone. Dapper is just a responsibility. No help is coming.

“Look, I’m just going to put you in my backpack so you can hear,” he says. “And then, if everything goes really wrong… you’ll be able to tell Anti and the others. And they’ll know why I did it, and not to look for me. And then, you know. It won’t be so bad, I don’t think. Maybe kind of peaceful, even. I’ve heard it’s like sleep. No duties there, you know? No one to hurt me. Nothing to wrestle with. Feel like I sealed my fate a long time ago, so, hey. I can be a way for Anti to find and look after Dapper again and then everything… everything will be okay.”

He swallows hard and tries to believe himself.

“Just need you with me,” he says, a little gruffly. “In case things go wrong.”

He puts you in his backpack.

After that, a great many things go wrong.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Wait red dont die what went wrong

Skidding footsteps pound down the sidewalk; raw gasps are matched by the shrieking of sirens, and your screen is jostled rapidly with the running. There’s a a pause as Red tries to turn, and then the sound of a gunshot, and Red whimpers, taking off again, a hard gasp slicing through his voice.

“Anti’s right,” he chokes, heaving. “I’m not a good thief!”

There are voices yelling at him. You hear clanging as he tries to flee, leaping up the side of the building. Another shot goes off and he cries out, terrified, but he will not surrender. He can’t go to prison. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. This was stupid, this was so stupid. He can’t remember why he did it now. He just saw a chance at getting out of this situation and leapt for it. Maybe he was just hoping to get shot.

Anonymous asked: Not everyone thing simplified to two options, y’know. Why not make your own choices and discover a third option? Think outside the box a little, Red, anything is possible if you want it bad enough.

Red is trying to get you out of his backpack, grabbing you as he runs, having found some distance from the police behind him as he sprinted through back-alleys and abandoned buildings.

“Well, I am VERY OPEN to suggestions right now,” he shouts. “Like, just, incredibly open to suggestions!”

He turns an alley and sees a dark figure at the end of it hallowed in red and blue. Fear flashes over his face, and then, before he can turn -

Gunshot.

Red wails, clutching at his arm, and turns to race away again, but he’s getting rapidly boxed in. Dark figures on every side. Circling him like a lynx surrounded by wolves. He cannot breathe and blood is soaking his sleeve.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red! Please be careful.

“What do I do?” he gasps. “What do I do!”

He stares around you. Cops to the right, and coming down from the north too. He could go to his left or south. South is an abandoned building; left is more alleyways.

Anonymous asked: Did you steal what you needed? As for suggestions, lose whatever jacket you're wearing and double back if you can. If they didn't get a good look at you, you might be able to get past without seeming suspicious.

“My… my jacket?”

It’s the only thing he owns. He clutches furtively at the sleeves, feeling suddenly paralyzed. A blur of blue and red lights. A blur of shapes faraway getting closer. The cold as he takes off his jacket. The blood, hot, soaking into him, and the stinging bullet embedded in his arm. Oh, please. Oh, please. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“No, no!” he cries to himself, trying to focus on your message. “I have - I grabbed antipsychotics I think, but I - I don’t know what kind, I don’t know what to do - don’t act suspicious, don’t act - k-keep it together, Red! Keep it together, Roser!” Fuck, but he wants Blue!

Anonymous asked: Cops may know the area better than you do so you might get pinned in the alleyways. The building may be a bit tricky but if you can move quick and hide you might be able to get away unseen. Weigh your strengths

“Okay, okay,” wheezes Red, hurrying towards it. Shouting around him. He’s scared they saw him but he isn’t sure. He doesn’t speak Spanish. He’s not sure he could understand English right now. He sprints towards the abandoned building - some kind of greenhouse, if he had to guess, and shoves himself in through a rusted door. He needs to find someplace to hide!

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Go south maybe you can lose them in the building's

“I’ll try and stay hidden,” he pants. “If I do good enough, they might leave. Maybe they won’t check thoroughly. They don’t know I’m the one who’s - they don’t know I’m a killer, right? Right? They just think I’m a petty thief. Or did they recognize my jacket? They’re shooting at me…”

Anonymous asked: Every second you stay out of their line of sight is good; try the alleys, take as many turns as you can, wait until they're good and behind you before you try climbing anything. Unless you think you can do some rooftop parkour from the abandoned building, in which case, try for there first. Just move quickly, make as much time as you can where they don't have their eyes on you.

“Oh, fuck, I can’t get on the rooftops with my arm like this,” he whimpers, the realization hitting him. He clutches the machete Anti gave him in his good arm, panting. “That’s how I always get away when I’m in trouble!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Go down to the abandoned building! It might buy you some time. But if you think you still have the energy to run, book it down those alleyways!

“It does buy me time, it does,” pants Red, hunkering down between a closet and a table at the corner of the back of the long, open building. “Yeah, okay, okay, gotta take a second to collect myself before they find me. I’m okay. If they find me, I can fight. I’m good at fighting. I’ve fought with worse than a bullet in my shoulder before.”

He’s pale, but not pale enough to lose consciousness. Not yet.

The door he came in through creaks.

“Hello?” someone whispers.

Someone else shushes them and footsteps skitter in the darkness.

Anonymous asked: Hey Red that’s alright! That just means you gotta get a little more creative with your tactics. Just relax and think logically, act like you are in control of the situation. If you don’t you’ll trip up and get caught and we don’t want that.

“I’m in control,” he wheezes to himself, nearly silent in the darkness. You can just see the outline of his face. “I’m in control. I am a soldier. I am a fighter. I always come home to my family. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have left him alone. I shouldn’t have locked him in. Okay. Okay. Sh, Ro, sh.”

Anonymous asked: that's ok red, you can keep your jacket. maybe you can wear it inside out or around your waist?

The hood, for now, is hiding his face, but he thinks that’s a good idea. He nods. He’ll change it once these cops leave. Someone is sliding closer to him. He tries to breathe.

Anonymous asked: Red, I get why you see Dapper as a hindrance especially in this unmedicated state, but bear in mind he could be your greatest help if you'd let him. Trusting him is going to help him trust you. Two-way street, bud. You're not alone, so quit acting like you are because, like it or not, you're both in this together.

“He’s just… always seemed so helpless,” murmurs Red, clutching his own head. He should probably shut up, but he’s trying to ground himself. Quiet, quiet. Can’t breakdown now. At least this place is cool and quiet and the fire in his arm is beginning to go numb. “Sometimes it’s like he can’t even think for himself. I don’t hate him, I just don’t know how to see him as capable anymore. He’s always sick or acting like a baby… maybe that’s not what he wants, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Anonymous asked: Can you see who it is, Red? Be cautious, but I think they might be an innocent.

Red swallows and turns both himself and you slightly to the right, sinking down so you can all see beneath the legs of the table. The black boots and navy green uniform of the policia. A gun.

Red shudders, going still. There is another pair of footsteps, moving even more quickly towards them, and this person makes much less attempts at being quiet, panting in the hot shadows. Red squishes himself down small, small.

Anonymous asked: Blue would tell you to calm down and think through this right? Deep breaths and think about what is happening in the moment, nothing else. Your main priority is to get away, to disappear, don’t worry about anything else. What if you weaved down the alleyways to try and loose them? Just don’t get cornered.

Blue would tell him to calm down.

Right? Right?

Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. Get away. Disappear. Don’t be scared, Red. Don’t be scared, Rojo.

Right?

He wouldn’t be angry.

Calm down. Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. I’m not angry. I forgive you.

Maybe that’s what Blue would tell him.

Right? Right?

I love you, he’d say. Focus on that. I forgive you. Deep breaths. Stay in the moment. Stay here with me.

The flashlight of the cop shines on him.

“Está aquí!” and the gun cocks.

Another voice cutting through the darkness, and footsteps running towards him. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t shoot!”

Anonymous asked: You're alright, Red. You can do this. Just one step at a time, yeah? You can handle this. Deep breaths. Do you have any subtle stims that can ground you, like tapping your fingers or rubbing a seam on your clothes? Just focus on that for now, and you can act on something else if something else happens.

Red can’t move. Red can’t breathe. Red can’t move. Red can’t breathe. Get up, Red. He can’t move. Run, run. Gun in his face. Shouting. Machete in his hands; clutch the scabbing handle tight, focus on the pressure in your hands. Get up, Red, run, can’t move, can’t breathe, hold the machete; blood on your arms, jacket, light in his face, Blue, Blue, Blue, I’m sorry, I love you, can’t move.

Someone collides hard with the police officer, shoving him back a few steps, and there is shouting, loud.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Angry Spanish in reply. “He’s armed, he has a machete!”

“Put the gun down, don’t hurt him! Hey, hey, put the machete down for me, man, can you put the machete down?”

Can’t move. Anti’s machete. Protect Dapper. Silver water. Can’t breathe. The gunman whirls back towards him again and Red is going to die.

The other stranger pulls back his own gun and slams it down on the skull of the police officer.

The body crumples.

One breath, sucked desperately in. One breath. Knife handle. Jacket. Quiet. Warm. Focus. Calm down, Ro. Deep breaths.

The stranger stands over him, panting, stammering, staring at him. He drops his gun and it goes clattering to the floor beside the body. After a moment, he picks up the flashlight and shines it on Red.

Red covers his eyes, panting, holding the blade in his trembling hand.

Anonymous asked: Red DO NOT strike first! Only in self-defense, ONLY fight if you HAVE to!

Get up, Red, fight.

Ro, he just protected you.

Don’t strike first. Don’t fight unless you have to. Injured. Alone. Trapped. Afraid.

The stranger has not moved. Red staggers back against the wall and pushes himself up, slowly, until he is standing on trembling legs, and only then does he pull his protective arm away from his eyes and face the man with the light.

He saw him earlier.

When he was scavenging for something to eat.

He had thought he seemed familiar, somehow. Forgotten, but familiar.

He is not South American, but his skin is dark and his hair darker, soft and silky on his head. His eyes are so golden-brown Red thinks of tigers. A wide mouth made for smiling now turned into an astonished o, eyes wide with shock and light, strong, familiar features. Red knows him and Red does not know him. Red does not know him at all and yet knows every part of him. Red is afraid.

“It is you,” the stranger whispers. “I didn’t believe…”

Behind the flashlight, the stranger seems to glow with light, and then, as the realization hits him and sinks down into him, with joy, too.

“It is you,” he says again, a smile lighting up his sunlight face. “Jackie.”

Anonymous asked: Who is that??

Red is close to suffocating.

“Who?” he tries, but the words are mangled in his desperate mouth. “Wh - who - how - ?”

“It’s been so long,” gasps the stranger, taking a step forward.

Red flinches and he steps back again, worry on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and the smile comes back. Red thinks he sees tears in his deep eyes. “I had started to think - I had almost started to give up, Juice Box, I - oh, fuck. Then there was this weird power signal in Peru, and I followed it, and then I could swear it was you in that police arrest, and then, up north, a trail of crimes with you fitting the description, and I - I - Fuck. I’m so sorry, I’m just - !”

He laughs aloud, making Red startle hard, and the stranger again tries to readjust, worry in his face.

“Sorry, you’re spooked. It’s okay. We need to get you out of here.”

He reaches out a hand. Yes, definitely tears in his eyes. Joy on his mouth. That old name. Jackie. Jackie.

Red slinks back against the wall, staring at him.

Wary.

“Are you okay?” asks the man. “Are you hurt?”

He reaches farther forward. Red jerks back and the stranger frowns.

“Don’t touch me,” Red manages. “Don’t even think about touching me.”

bupine asked: hey there, stranger. can you hear us? what's your name?

“Does that thing get messages?” he asks, tilting his head at the flashing light of the camera. “Is that… is that him? Can I - ?”

Red clutches you jealously to his chest and slides slightly down the wall, shoving the desk between himself and the stranger. He is panting, hard, and as he moves the man catches sight of the gleaming blood on his arm.

“Did they get you? Let me look at it, Jackie, please - ”

“Don’t come near me!” shouts Red, shoving himself further down the hall, though the tentative movements of the stranger towards him make him nervous and paralyzed, not remembering how to run away. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Okay, I won’t, I won’t, I promise, see?”

Hands held out. Feet planted. Eyes like the earth, rich.

“It’s okay, I won’t touch you or come closer if you don’t want,” promises the stranger.

“Who are you?” shouts Red, and the heat of the humiliation of not knowing him, though he knows him, rises in his face like flame. “Stay away from me! Who are you?”

But there is no anger or frustration or even disappointment in the man’s eyes.

Just knowing - acceptance. And then, for a moment, a grief so wide the ocean couldn’t make space for it, and then the knowing again.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay. You must have been through so much, I know. It’s Max. Do you remember me at all?”

Red shakes his head numbly. He sees again the great dark hurting grief, and then Max is calm and smiling soothingly again, the knowing in his eyes, the sorrow resting on its underbelly.

“Oh, okay,” whispers Max, very soft. “Not at all? It’s me, Max. No? That’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He will have time to hate Anti for it later.

Anonymous asked: Red, don't be afraid. There's no need to be scared, I'm nearly certain. Be cautious, but this person just saved your life. I think you can more than trust them.

No. No, no.

Red doesn’t like this, this isn’t -

This isn’t how they’re supposed to be.

He doesn’t know how they’re supposed to be, but not like this.

And he’s ashamed, but he doesn’t know why.

He covers his face with his hands. He will not cry in front of strangers. And this man is a stranger no matter what he says or what he knows. He doesn’t want to be looked at or seen or real. He wants to wake up, or maybe die.

“Who are you?” croaks Red. “Who, who, say things that matter this time!”

“I - I’m a detective, or I was, with the Sussex Police. I’ve been trying to - Jackie, wait!”

The word ‘police’ and Red tears towards the exit of the greenhouse, yanking frantically against the locked door.

“No, I won’t hurt you!” swears Max. “I’m on your side, please! I’m here to help, I am, just please talk to me.”

“Fucking pig,” snarls Red, whirling on him again, panting hard. “Don’t touch me.”

“Is Anti here now?” asks Max, his eyes beginning to redden. “Is he making you do all this? Is he making you act like this?”

A strangled laugh from Red’s throat. No. The last week has been all him and his bullshit. Nobody made him do anything. And now Max is seeing him like this. Sprinting away from a crime scene. Running from cops. Probably he stinks and his clothes are fucking filthy. He is, very suddenly, so aware of every scar along every inch of his torn, abused flesh that he wants to scratch them all back to blood just to hide them.

“Jackie,” whispers Max.

And Red strikes like a snake.

Max shouts in alarm as he is tackled to the ground, and Red’s fist comes down once, twice, staining his teeth crimson, and Max struggles frantically against his grip, yelling. “Jackie, stop! Jackie! I won’t hurt you!”

“Don’t call me that!” Red screams, slamming his head back against the ground. Max moans. “I’m not Jackie! Jackie is gone!”

“No,” he hears Max cry, grabbing at his face, his right hand finding the back of his head and grabbing his hair tightly. “I know you! Even from the others, I would know you. I could know you by the way you breathe.”

“No, you don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me or the person I am now!”

“Jackie,” he begs, his hand still in his hair, protecting him. “Jackie.”

“Shut up!” screams Red, and strikes him again, and leaps away from his body, taking off at a dead sprint, throwing his whole weight at the door this time and busting the hinges entirely. You get a glimpse of Max staggering to his knees but then collapsing back to his side again, striking the floor in his anguish, his white teeth gritted.

Anonymous asked: Stay hidden, Red, but as soon as it’s clear you need to get the hell away from there and go the opposite direction.

He tears off his hoodie and wraps it around his waist instead, sprinting so numbly now that he isn’t even sure if anyone’s following him. That’s an order he can follow. Get the hell away. Get the hell, the fuck, the goddamn away from there and from him and from everything. He can’t feel his arm anymore. It doesn’t matter. He’ll run until he passes out if he can’t find his way back to the motel. He can’t think. He’s sprinting. It’s quiet at last. Dark streets and silence and the bundle of feelings cutting him open from the inside. Even Dok couldn’t cut that shit out of him. Nurse, I need a liter of not-being-so-fucking-useless, stat. He laughs wildly and stumbles as he runs, beginning to hyperventilate, beginning to slow, exhausted.

“Can’t call me that,” he pants to himself, staggering down a street he doesn’t know. “Can’t call me that…”

Anonymous asked: Red, what was that? Why did you do that?

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” he shrieks.

He tries to rationalize it away.

“He was a cop! He was going to arrest me! And Dapper, he could find him! He knew who Anti was, he could hurt us! He’s been stalking us! He’s the kind of person Anti’s warned me about again and again! I should have killed him! Anti would have wanted me to!”

He slams against a wall and covers his face with his hands - or tries to, but the injured one has lost all feeling. His head spins fiercely. He’s going to be sick and he isn’t sure if it’s from the blood loss or the encounter.

“I didn’t want to see him,” he cries. “I didn’t want him to see me.”

Anonymous asked: Ro, you need to calm down.

“Why can’t I do anything right?” he groans, tugging at his hair like he always does, pulling at the thick dark hair. “Sometimes I just want to be normal. I get so freaked out. Fuck, when was the last time I just… met someone? Met anyone? Spoken to anyone other than my brothers and you?”

He holds his own aching shoulders, shrinking down against the wall. “I want Blue, why does Blue always feel so much safer than anything… I need him, I can’t do this, I can’t, I can’t!”

He strikes the wall with his fist so hard it will bruise.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, Max is NOT out to get you.

“Everyone’s out to get me,” he chokes, rocking himself and rubbing his palms together. “The whole world is out to get me. The whole world is out to get me and my family. I can’t trust anyone but my brothers. That’s the way it’s always been. Even before i remember. Cops waiting for me at food pantries. Guns surrounding my house in the middle of the night. Strangers stalking me home from the marketplace on Christmas Eve.”

Anonymous asked: You make mistake just like anyone else, but it’s what you do after that that defines you. You either do what you can to make it right or you sit and have a pitty party. It’s okay to mess up, Red, but Blue is not coming so you have to figure this out on your own.

Red shivers hard. “I… I wish I could remember a time without Blue. I’ve never done anything without him. Anti told us to stay together and I walked away.”

He rubs his wrists into his eyes, trying to breathe.

“Okay. Okay. I can figure this out. Need - I need to get back to Dapper. I need to bandage myself up. Can’t be bleeding everywhere. I can’t think about him, I won’t…”

Shaking so hard it is difficult to rise, he nevertheless gets back to his feet.

Anonymous asked: Red, bud... You're having a trauma reaction right now. You've been attacked and stalked so often with mal-intent that it's causing a trauma reaction. Can you breathe for me, love? Breath in 4, hold 7, out 8. It's okay, it'll be okay. Max wasn't going to hurt you, buddy. Everything will be fine, but right now work on calming and guiding yourself our of this flashback.

“Keep having nightmares,” whispers Red, and then he tries to breathe for you.

One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four, five, six, choke - pause, cough, try again - one, two, three, four… one, two three, four, five, six, seven… one, two, three, four, sigh deep, too deep, so tired.

Everything in his life is always difficult and frightening and he’s tired. Afraid. He doesn’t remember if it was always like this. He doesn’t think so. He thinks he used to be brave and safe and maybe even happy.

One, two, three, four…

Anonymous asked: Wow what a shocking coincidence that your life was only exhausting and frightening and traumatizing since you've belonged to Anti, hm, Red. I wonder who could possibly at fault.

“Please,” mumbles Red, clutching at his face. “Tell me I didn’t help bring them all back to an Anti who wanted any of this. Tell me I haven’t belonged to an Anti like that. I couldn’t bear it.”

Anonymous asked: Red, fucking /stop/. You need to calm down, please. Go back, see what he wants. He won't hurt you, he said it himself. Explain who you are if he doesn't understand. Stop running from your past. Stop running from people who want to help. You will /die/ if you keep running from everything that tries to help you. Dapper will die without help.

“I… I think I’m lost,” he mumbles, shivering despite the heat, staring around himself. “I don’t even know where I came from.”

He holds his arm as it begins to hurt again, feeling coming back as the adrenaline fades. “Ngh… maybe I should have at least let him bandage it up. No… Dapper will help me. Even if I left him behind. I think I need to apologize.”

He runs his hands through his hair. Dapper will die without help. He groans and moves forward, looking around for anything he recognizes.

Anonymous asked: Sadly.... You have Red. You've belonged to an Anti who told us he hates you and loves seeing you in pain. You belong to an Anti who killed you in front of Dapper and forced him to rewind every time he disobeyed. You belong to an Anti who threw Blue out of a hospital bed, gagged him with his own stolen magic, and broke his nose.

He is set to shuddering again, crumpling against the wall, panting and dizzy. He can see Blue sick, now, choking and bleeding. He can see Blue hurt and himself not there. He can see Blue dying. He can see himself dead, and Dapper looking on, afraid, Red’s blood made as a tool to control him.

“I don’t believe you!” shrieks Red, clutching his hair. “No! Stop it! I’ll turn you off! I want to go home to Dapper! I need to see him! I need to - we used to protect each other, I need - I need to see Dapper! Where am I?”

Anonymous asked: He wasn't stalking you, he was rescuing you Red. He was helping, he came to save you. You can't 'rationalize' this one away, buddy... He was a friend. A friend that you don't remember. He came to save you. His eyes were grieving you, missing you.

“A friend,” chokes Red.

And suddenly, he needs it to be true so badly he can barely breathe.

He needs a friend.

He really, really, really, fucking needs a friend.

“This is so stupid,” he sobs. “I’m supposed to be able to do this alone. It doesn’t matter now. I can’t start to know anyone else. I’ll just lose them when I have to go back to Anti. And I beat him, anyway, so he won’t want me now. I don’t know how to trust anybody anymore so it’s better if we just go.”

But he wants it, he wants it, he wants it so much he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his mouth is warm with the tears and his chest is hiccuping and he has to calm down, he has to.

Anonymous asked: Whether you believe it or not doesn't make it any less true. What are you going to make the "he just has a bad temper" excuse too? Red, do you know the definition of "gaslighting"? Do you realize how shattered your reality is because of what Anti has done to you?

“No, no, no!” He thrashes his head back and forth, rocking again, but it hardly helps. He needs someone to hold him. He wants someone to touch him. He wants to feel safe. “I’m the shattered one, it’s not anybody else’s fault. Why would he do this to me if he knew? Why would he hate me? I’ve never done anything but protect him, my little brother, my angry, hurting little brother, I’ve never done anything but love him.”

He wants Anti to come hold onto him and tug at his hair. It is only belatedly that he realizes he has no memory of Anti ever holding him like that at all.

“Stop talking!” he screams, his voice splitting down the middle, grabbing at his face as the lights around him become overwhelming again. “Shut up!”

Anonymous asked: You know it's the truth though, don't you Red. You know your master better than anyone. Do you really think I'm lying? Do you underestimate his cruelty, even now, after all the shit he's done to you? After he almost killed Blue? Blue would have died if it weren't for one of the magicians healing his heart. Anti would have killed him. He's still killing him, every single day.

Red crumples.

You can hear him breathing. Harsh and thin and wheezing like an asthma attack. A low string of mumbling pours from his trembling mouth. His nails bite into his palms. He puts his forehead down on the filthy dirt of the alleyway and clutches at his head like there’s bombs coming down and he’s beneath his desk. He can see Blue’s corpse on the shore of the river. He sees purpled lips and swollen eyes. The body goes unbelievably stiff as it dies, and so soon too. Red knows. Red has held corpses. Blue would be so heavy, with bones like metal, unyielding as a concrete building. His eyes would never see the stars again and the life would be gone from him. Red can smell the decay. The rotting blood. Red can see Blue dead, but Anti wasn’t the one who killed him. Red walks away and hears Blue crying out for him beside him.

Ro? Ro? I don’t want to die. Red - Jackie - I’m afraid, please -

Be good, Blue. Be good. I’ll see you again soon.

Red slams the side of his head against the concrete. He is holding his shoulders as he always does, but he lets his fingers dig into the bullet-hole at the top of his shoulder. His palms fill up with blood.

Anonymous asked: "Gaslighting: form of psychological manipulation in which a person or a group covertly sows seeds of doubt in a targeted individual, making them question their own memory, perception, or judgment, often evoking in them cognitive dissonance. Blatant lying. First, people who gaslight tell obvious lies. Deny, Deny, Deny. Using what you love against you. Additionally, people who gaslight use what is closest to you against you. The slow death of self."

The slow death of self. Red shudders and is sick against the concrete, and now he cannot breathe at all through the smell of his own vomit. He falters and tumbles against the brick of the building beside him, his eyes rolling, rocking himself back and forth, his head striking concrete every time, desperate breaths wheezing out of his throat.

Anonymous asked: "Gaslighting. Everybody else is the enemy, outsiders are not to be trusted. Lovebombing, holding love and affection over your head and using it against you. The constant confusion that the abuser has instilled leads the victim to become desperate for clarity. More often than not, the victim searches for this clarity in the abuser. If the gaslighter is a liar and a cheater, they are now accusing you of being a liar and a cheater."

He is not reading anymore, shaken and blind against the concrete, lost in his head, overwhelmed, sick. He hasn’t made it home and no one is here to comfort him. Dapper does not have a camera and Max is still searching. He is very dizzy now, milk white with it, his rocking slowing on the concrete as he faints for a moment, a low moan sliding out of his teeth.

Anonymous asked: Alright, why don’t we hold off on the truth bombing tonight? Ro hasn’t exactly had an easy trip this evening so let’s just chill a bit?

Numb.

He’s a dead thing, he thinks.

He lies there for a long time.

Anonymous asked: Guys I don’t think this is the correct approach to this, especially since he’s just had a anxiety attack from a trauma trigger. Red, it’s okay. You’ve been thought a lot today and you’re in pain and loosing blood still, your priority right now should be to get somewhere safe and patch yourself up or get some help (Max I mean max). We can wait to talk about the more touchy feely topics until you’re safe.

Brain slush. Tired. Dry mouth. It hurts to blink.

Safe and patch up. Safe and patch up.

He doesn’t move. His tongue presses against his torn lips. He sighs. Sleepy.

Anonymous asked: There is much more to this world then guns and knifes and scary people. There are people that genuinely want you boys to get better, kinda like us. It’s scary to take a change but you aren’t going to get anywhere if you don’t. Remember what we said about that third option? Thinking outside the box beyond BNE and Anti as a solution? He could be it.

He stares at you, his eyes dull and glazed over with fatigue. Right now, he’d take a third option. He’s too tired not to. He just wants someone to hold him. The strange memory of Dapper that he has tucked away rises in his head again - soft white hands washing the blood away. Cleaning him and helping him to bed. His soft warm hair against his own. Good pressure. Warm Jameson.

And warm brown eyes, deep. Tiger. Sleepy.

Anonymous asked: Shit okay okay, guys fucking stop pressuring a guy on the brink of an entire meltdown jfc what is wrong with you people? Alright, Red can you hear me? You shouldn't sleep right now. But first deep breaths. In and out. In and out until you feel better. You have to find Dapper and then maybe go approach the guy Max earlier. It seems they're pretty worried about you in a personal level so they'll help you and Dapper some if you just asked. -🌻

Oh, help. And food and bandages - medicine? Tired. He rubs at his face and then shudders, drawing away to find blood on his hands. A quiver shakes his chest and he snuffles out a sigh, dazed.

Deep breaths. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

Dapper.

Max.

He looks up at the sky and the buildings, trying to put the floating pieces of his own brain back together.

Anonymous asked: Red, can you hear us?

He looks at you, licking dryly at his mouth, his eyes fluttering. Eventually, he shuffles into a less awkward position, rising onto his calves and palms. You can see his whole body tremble.

He’s strong and he has been for a long time.

He reaches out to pull you into his hand. He’ll try to get up in a minute, he thinks. Oh, a coherent thought, is his second coherent thought. He laughs to himself, his head swimming. He’s a fish, pushing up silt, floating along the bottom of a black ocean.

Anonymous asked: Damn it, is there a way we can get Max's attention? There's no way Jackie got far, do we have a blinky light or something??

If Max can find him, the cops can find him.

Then again, figures Red dully, he said he had been looking for Jackie for a long time. Maybe he’ll keep looking. Even if the person he’s looking for is dead and has been for a long time. Red pulls at his hair, whimpering.

Anonymous asked: I have a feeling he’d forgive you if you asked him for help, love. He seemed to really, really care about you. He respected you too.

Yeah, he was nice, thinks Red, he was, he didn’t touch me when I told him to, he was okay.

Can’t start thinking like that, just lose him to Anti, just hurts more… No one would want him like this anyway. No, no pity party, no more fucking around, he had promised Dapper. He wants Dapper. He’s moving again, slow, his hand on the wall beside him, his head hanging low.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red? You're going to be okay, honey. You are SO strong. You will be okay. Right now, we need to get you help.

I think I freaked out, Red registers dully. I think I just flipped the fuck out.

He’s moving, oh. He didn’t notice. One foot at a time. There’s a blur of light in front of his eyes. A casino. He thinks maybe he recognizes it. The lights are pink. They caught his attention. But when? Which direction? He stares around him. He feels like he’s a sardine and the can around him was just peeled open and now the whole world is staring at his little wriggly body, his eyes fixed morbidly open. He tries to blink and it hurts his head.

Anonymous asked: Bring Max to Dapper, Red! He might be able to help both of you

“Where is he?” mumbles Red. “I knew him…”

Anonymous asked: Do you know which direction you came from? You could try to backtrack a bit to see if you could run into him.

He stares around him. Nothing seems familiar but the casino. Wait - a Subway, buried in the wall, dirty and silent at this time of night. There’s a dumpster out back. Tuna sandwich.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is this where you found the food for you and Dap, honey???

“I guess,” he mumbles. “Love eating like a rat.”

He didn’t want to steal anything. Scared of getting in trouble with the cops. He laughs low in his chest. Nice work, Red.

Anonymous asked: Red, buddy, I know you're hungry, but please do not eat out of the garbage

“Not right now,” he sighs, turning in circles, trying to find out where he is.

Anonymous asked: Oh, thank god, a land mark. Red, do you remember the way back from here? Be safe, might be best to stay out of sight since you're... bloody and covered in bruising.

Good advice. He feels so gross. Suddenly, he has a desperate desire to see what was inside that room back at the house in the middle of the trees, Jackie’s room with the pictures and notes and newspaper clippings on the door, all arranged like there was something funny about it. He imagines a big, sunny room. The smell of linen and Febreeze, maybe a little sweat, too, but not too much. Clean clothes arrayed colorfully in a cool dark closet. Everything tucked neatly away. A freshly made bed. Green sheets.

He laughs to himself, confused by the thought. He doesn’t know why the sheets would be green. Pictures of his family on the bedside drawer. Laughter through the walls.

Anonymous asked: Sorry about pressuring so much at once. Sent all my messages right after each other, and I couldn't read how upset you were, Red. I feel cruel after seeing how much it upset you.

“Oh, too fast,” he laughs. “I get it. I’m supposed to be able to take it, right?”

He shivers slightly and adjusts his jacket.

“Everybody always expects me to. Anti doesn’t like to say I’m autistic, did you know that? He says I just freak out sometimes.”

Red swallows and glances around.

Anonymous asked: Shit. Can you turn back, Jackie? Retrace your steps?

He wanders down the street, turning his head side to side, the sense of familiarity growing a little. Is this close to where he carried Dap, with his body so heavy in Red’s arms, stiff and tired?

He looked after Dap. Dap let him. Dap rested.

Why does he never let Dap look after him?

Anonymous asked: What would help you right now, bud? Do you need to stop and stim for a second? A poem you like? Stay calm, it's gonna be alright

“No stimming,” he laughs wearily, swaying as he walks. “Way too much - way too much everything already. Too loud.”

A poem. His eyes water for a second. He pauses to rest and bows his head. He can hear Blue, but doesn’t remember the words, not well.

“Did you want to see me shaken? Bowed head and lowered eyes…”

Joy on his brother’s face.

“Ro? Ro? I don’t want to die.”

Be good, Blue.

This is the back of the motel.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: That doesn't mean that anything is wrong with you, Ro. It just means that there's another part of you to love! We are all different. Just have to embrace who you are :)

“You guys are all crazy sweet,” he manages, wiping at his face, touched despite himself. “But you’ll have to wait til I’m a little less tired for me to appreciate you like you deserve. Maybe… maybe talk about it, I don’t know, I’m not really supposed to, but… maybe I should, sometime.”

Anonymous asked: Hey love it’s okay! Does anything seem more familiar now that you’ve identified that?

“Room number,” he mumbles, trying to remember. He knew it. He had it. He’s good with numbers. “I think… first floor, I…”

It’s gone.

“No, no,” he croaks. “How do I find it?”

Anonymous asked: Be safe please Red. You really need to be bandaged up. You had a backpack with you. Do you still have it? Is there anything in there you can use? Or, at least could you make a tourniquet out of your hoodie, for the bullet wound?

“Shit, that was a good idea, wrapping up,” he mumbles, slurring a little from fatigue. “Should have listened to you when I was farther away. Got my backpack. Not much in there. But the medicine I stole. Not even sure it’s what Dapper needs. And the machete. Oh, the key to the handcuffs…”

He reaches slowly around to get it out of the side pocket.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, you can listen to us or not. That is your choice, in the end. But get back to Dapper or go back to Max. You need to keep going, okay?

“Keep going, keep going,” he mumbles to himself, beginning to walk past the rooms. “I need help… I need someone…”

Anonymous asked: Bud, think about it, he didn’t attack you, when you asked him not to touch you he didn’t, in fact he backed up and showed you his hands so you could see them! He gave you honest information so that you knew who he was, not any type of lie. He said he wasn’t going to hurt you, and I’m sure he was scared or nervous after seeing you for the first time in ages, but he wasn’t going to hurt you. I don’t think he would have even thought about it. I know you don’t want to see him but he could help you.

“Do you really think he knew me from so long ago?” whispers Red, trailing dazedly around. “He told me he didn’t want to hurt me. He would be really nice if it were all true. I don’t know. I think sometimes the world puts shit in front of you just to make fun of you. Cause you can’t have it.”

Anonymous asked: You’re right, Red. You can’t keep doing it alone. Max could help both you and Dapper. Would you want to give it a chance?

“Probably drove him away now.” Red must pause to lean against the wall, and you hear him giggle, apparently for no reason. “Safer just to… stay away from people. You know? Do you? Sometimes I feel like you don’t get it at all, but then you say nicer things and I… I’m autistic, you know, that’s okay, like - I like to hear that, I do.”

He’s drifting a little, his eyes getting heavier, slurring worse. He laughs again. You think that’s a laugh.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, when you're not even showing trust in yourself that's a sign that you may need to rely on someone else a little. And sometimes trust requires a bit of faith first, and that can be daunting, but some help is better than none when you're spiraling like this. Max can help you, so can Dapper, and so can you you but you need to accept it first.

He’s beginning to shake again. Maybe shock. He’s very white.

“Should have let him at least… explain.” Red stumbles drowsily. “Would have liked to know where I knew him from. So pretty.”

He blushes red and giggles, nearly tripping again.

“So much blood on my jacket… fucking dirty… bet he thinks I’m g-gross. Compared with him? Pshh. Forget it. Dap? You hear me? I’m real tired, Dap.”

Anonymous asked: You'll have that, Red, all that and more, we promise. Just stay calm and retrace your steps.

“Okay, moving, moving,” he whispers to himself, trailing down the wall, and then - at last - he sees the little cuff wrapped around the doorway, and he remembers. Room 119. He chokes on the relief of it, but, fuck, does he really have to go in there as this much of a failure? Shit, but he wants someone to clean him up right now. So fucking gross. He hates blood. He never understood that about Anti, the way he would laugh while they were both coated in it. He just never seems to care about anything, and Red -

No, no, focus for two more seconds, Ro. It’s okay. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and grabs the doorhandle, fumbling with the key.

Anonymous asked: That's right calming breaths 1..2..3.. keep doing them until you feel like you have the ground below your feet again. For now don't think about the heavy stuff, don't think about the far future. Just think about what you and Dap need for NOW and that's a safe place to recover your strength. Once you're better you should go back to where Dap is, you'll probably run into Max but you'll be better prepared now. Just tell him you can talk later but you and your brother needs help now.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Ground beneath his feet. Run into Max.

For a second, he lets himself imagine it: the familiar stranger on the other side of the door, already looking after Dapper, so Red would know he was safe. He would see Red and hold his hands out all safe and slow again, and Red could let himself faint, and then - well, he’d just be forced to trust him. To use a little of that faith you were talking about. And maybe, then, oh, he can see it - he’d wake up bandaged and maybe even clean. Maybe even Max would get him something to eat. And wash his clothes for him. And say nice things. He’s so tired. He doesn’t know why he’s laughing. Was he supposed to be doing something?

There’s a faint, sleepy tongue-clicking from the other side of the door. Oh, right, the door. He pushes the key in, struggling to twist it, sighing as he hears shuffling in the bed and footsteps padding towards him.

Anonymous asked: Alright, alright, um... Do you see Dap anywhere nearby? As long as you get to Dap I'm sure we can explain things and you could get a lil rest from earlier. -🦀

“Dap?” he croaks through the door.

A whistle. A click. He glances up and sees a bright blue eye - oh, no, a little silver in it - staring back at him through the crack in the door, very wide.

“Oh, no,” he worries, finally unlocking the door and tumbling inside. “You - you okay, Dapper?”

Dapper stares at him, mouth slightly open.

“Blood,” he signs after a moment, pointing.

Red shivers.

“Oh, yeah,” he croaks, collapsing. “Almost forgot about that.”

Dapper’s arms catch him firmly.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, buddy can you hear me? Can you try to perform some basic first aid on Red for now? Can't have him bleeding out and all that. Just wrap some makeshift bandage, cloth, an actual roll of bandage, handkerchief or whatever around the wound and put some pressure on it. -🦀

Dapper, to his everlasting credit, is not frozen for one second.

He doesn’t remember much right now. It was a slow, tired night, fighting with monsters who weren’t real, trying to find his old name again, missing any comforting memory, and missing worse any company. He had a two hour conversation with his bear before he realized it was his bear, which was embarrassing even alone. He tried, for a few minutes, to break the beam of the door that held the handcuffs, feeling angry and malicious towards… someone.

But it doesn’t matter now. And it doesn’t matter if he remembers exactly who they were before or who they used to be to the other, because he remembers, if nothing else, how to take care of his family.

Alone for months and Anti never stripped that away, not deep enough, not truly.

He carries Red into the bathroom and sits him down on the seat of the toilet, tapping his chin to keep him from dozing off and whistling a song Red likes. Dermot Kennedy, he thinks. For Red, he knows that name better than his own right now. He is pulling Red’s hoodie off his head as his brother rambles.

“I need to tell you - I saw this guy, and he was like… oh, but Dapper, I shouldn’t have, like - like I need to apologize, I do, I’m sorry, I was dumb, I was really dumb and you told me so, but I didn’t want - I didn’t want - helpless, all the time, so tired of not being able to save you, and I - ”

Dapper cups his chin and pulls his head up so he can look at him. He tangles his hand in Red’s hair for a moment, pulling gently, before he draws away and signs.

“Don’t worry about anything right now,” he says softly. “Just let me look after you. We’ll talk later. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Red is crying. Dapper puts his hand gently on the back of his head and pulls him to rest on his shoulder. Keeps whistling, warm and slow, as he sees the bullet wound in his shoulder. No matter. He’ll get it out.

Just rest. He is stroking it into Red’s shoulder. Let me bear it.

Anonymous asked: Err, James? Why are your eyes silver?

“Sorry,” Dapper signs to you quickly. “A little worked up earlier. Thought I might have to change something. Maybe I still should? Convince him not to go? Then again, I don’t… remember where he was going. Confused night.”

He strokes his mustache for a second, eyes a little distant.

“No, no, I won’t be able to go back like this, not well, psychotic and not remembering. Can’t even find an anchor point. If I can’t remember what to go back to, I can’t go back to it. Is it fading, now?”

He peers at you, blinking. His eyes are not as silver as they were when Red left.

Anonymous asked: yes, it's fading - don't go back, JJ. Something important happened tonight

“Oh?” Dap tilts his head at you sweetly, still deep enough in his head that he’ll beg with his eyes for what he wants. “Important?”

He pauses and his eyes clear for a moment.

“If it’s just that he’s got my medicine, don’t worry, I’d rather he not be shot.”

Anonymous asked: Okay, good. Thanks for taking care of Red, Dap. He's pretty exhausted after all the emotional turmoil today so he really really needs you right now. Just give him some time to basically recharge. Anyway, Red met someone who knew the him from his old name. They've apparently been searching for Red for a while now and seemed really concerned about him. I was thinking maybe once Red's better you could convince him to go seek some aid from the guy if possible. -🦀

“Met someone?” Dapper tilts his head back and forth, thinking. “Maybe I will find him in my head sometime. Maybe not. Oh, go get help? I’m not allowed to leave my room… maybe Red or Anti would go for me?”

He is swiping blood rapidly from Red’s arm, barely pausing to talk to you moment to moment.

“I’m glad Anti is letting me be with my big brother again,” he confesses after a moment. “Even if only because he’s hurt. I used to always clean him up after he would go do his chores. And he would hold me.”

Dapper presses himself close to Red, getting a clear look at the bullet in his arm.

Anonymous asked: Hello Jamie, it’s been a very long night and em Ro here got shot and the bullet is still in his arm and he really needs a bath? Also we met a very nice man named Max and then Jackie had a meltdown in the street and that wasn’t great. Speaking of which if he’s comfortable with it could you give him a big hug for us? I would really like to give him a hug.

Dapper turns you away for a second and you hear a shout, seeing Red’s back spasm for a second, his muscles tighten, and then he groans and slumps down again. Dapper drops a bloodied bullet and his own bloodied knife into the sink and turns you back again.

Bandages, shit. He stares around the room. Towels will have to do. Anti won’t mind if he tears a couple up, right? He’s already started to get used to his new room. They move a lot. He scratched a picture of a duck into the wall when he was waiting for someone to come home to him. Maybe Anti will get him charcoals soon and he can really get into it. He grabs his knife, twirling it neatly in his hands before tearing the nearest towel into strips and beginning to tie his brother’s arm up.

He pauses just to hold onto the back of Red’s head for a moment. Dapper’s shirt is getting wet where his head lies.

Red cries softly against his neck. Dapper strokes his hair. Never his skin. Dapper knows. The important things stick around somewhere, at least some of them. At least enough of them. They are still brothers.

He wraps his arms gently around Red’s waist and squeezes gently, rocking them back and forth a little, on his knees with Red splayed across him, clutching wearily at his stained white dress shirt.

“Bath,” signs Dapper softly, getting to his feet.

Anonymous asked: No! No, I think that you don't have to go back. Red is... He'll most likely recover from this just give him some time and affection. It's prolly good that you guys have a possible person to go to now the person looked pretty concerned when he found Red. Seems that the guy, Max, knew him from Before. Also the silver is sort of fading now. -🦀

“Max,” says Dapper, signing out the letters, slow, thinking for a moment. “I don’t know… I’m not supposed to talk to anyone but my big brothers, so Red would know better than I.”

“He was a tiger,” whispers Red, clinging to Dapper’s shirt. Dapper pats the hem of his pants gently, Red nods, and a moment later you are turned towards the wall as Dapper helps him undress.

“A tiger,” you hear Red again, soft and a little weepy, and Dapper whistles his song clearly into the walls of the bathroom as the water comes on. Soft water laps around the edges of the tub. Red is breathing like he’s asleep already. The mirror fogs from the warmth of it. Dapper keeps whistling. Low and slow. Washing Red clean.

Anonymous asked: Jameson would if you let him, Red.

And this, as it turns out, is the most wonderful truth.

“I didn’t think it was you,” mumbles Red.

He feels a pointer finger tap along his chin. “Who?”

“A memory,” he answers, eyes closed, slumped down in the bath. Warm water slides down his neck. A washcloth sops him clean. Never just fingers - he hates, hates, hates flesh on his flesh - but the soft scratch of the washcloth on his skin. “Or a dream, maybe.”

Dapper is singing for him, a song he can’t remember anymore.

“This person who looked like you… cleaning the blood off of me.”

Dapper covers his eyes and massages shampoo into his hair with his free hand. Red isn’t sure if he’s asleep or not by the time the water begins to drain away and soft hands pull him out of the tub and begin toweling the water off of him. His hair is soft and fluffy and he can smell just soap now. His arm stings badly, but he’s had worse. What matters is that he’s being helped into clean boxers and then -

When was the last time he slept in a bed?

He can’t help but moan and he hears a faint, warm titter, opening his eyes to see Dapper standing over him, wet with blood and water, but smiling for him, small and concerned.

“But it was you,” he murmurs. “It was you who cleaned me up and put me to bed. I’d just… forgotten.”

“I always clean you up,” whisper Dapper’s hands, pausing to brush hair from Red’s eyes. “That’s what twins are for, right?”

Red stares at him.

“What?”

Warm blankets rise over him and sink down.

“You’re tired.” Dapper pulls the sheets to his chin and Red feels his eyelids drifting despite the questions sitting on his tongue. “Get some sleep. Don’t know when Anti will need you again. Have to rest.”

“Dapper?” Red tries, but he is already drifting away.

He feels, for a moment, the words “I love you” pressed against his heart. He’s so warm. He’s so tired. He thinks he manages to get the correct response out, but he isn’t sure. A warm weight sinks into the bed beside him. He curls closer to it in his sleep.

Tonight, this is the only truth that matters.

Dapper lies in bed beside him, and he watches over his brother.

Just like he does every night, right?

End Section Six of Chapter Three: Old Friends

#chapter three #writers of jack

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blackcatkita · 4 years

Text

A Not So Blue Christmas

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce x MC (Kayla)

Word Count: 2925

This is my contribution to the 12 Days of Fictmas- 2019 edition and true to form, I am posting this at the literal eleventh hour. I was assigned “Blue Christmas” by the late and great Elvis Aaron Presley (may he rest in peace). Big thank you to @leelee10898 for hosting this event and wrangling us all and to @darley1101 for creating the awesome moodboard you see below. I hope you like it and happy holidays!

A Not So Blue Christmas

When Kayla matched at Edenbrook, some 980 miles from her hometown of Chicago, she knew there would be things she would miss out on. Her proud Irish family was huge and freakishly close; three brothers and one sister with Kayla smack in the middle, five aunts, three uncles, twenty-six first cousins and an absolute lunatic of a grandmother to round it all out. And that was just on her dad’s side. Birthdays, holidays, graduations, anniversaries; they were spent together whether you wanted to be there or not. Going away to college had been a blessing. For the first time, Kayla got to be seen as her own person instead of Sean and Connor’s little sister but she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her family. The last time she saw them was back in June when she took Bryce home to meet everyone. Well, almost everyone. No one should have to be subjected to the entire clan on the first meeting, no matter how confident and easy-going her boyfriend was.

It was worth it though. She’d wanted to be a doctor for as long as she could remember and working with Ethan Freaking Ramsey on the diagnostics team was a dream come true. Her career fed her constant thirst for knowledge and allowed her to help people so she didn’t mind not being there for every little thing her family deigned worthy of celebration. Christmas was different. Christmas in the Donovan house was a huge deal.

The house would be so full it was fit to burst, food, candy, and cookies as far as the eye could see. Her oldest brother Sean and his wife Meghan sniping and snarking at each other, everyone spoiling the hell out of her niece because she was the first child, seeing what new bimbo was Connor’s latest flavor of the week because he was too stupid and too much of a playboy to find a nice girl, Gran handing out shots of whiskey and hitting on any poor soul whose only mistake was dating or marrying one of the Donovan girls; she’d had a field day with Bryce. Her dad and uncles escaping to the garage or basement, betting on how long after dinner it would take her mom to throw in the towel and switch from wine to liquor; Kayla was going to miss it all.

But Boston provided joys of its own; a group of friends she considered family that included the most supportive boyfriend the world had ever seen. Working as much as they did with no way in hell of getting off on a holiday meant none of them would be going home but that didn’t mean they would spend Christmas alone. Luckily, their apartment was spacious enough to house everyone for the open house party she and her roommates planned, though Kayla wondered why hosting always fell to them. Ethan had an even better apartment and you didn’t see him inviting anyone over. Rude.

“And, voila!” Kayla exclaimed from her post at the kitchen island. The cheese tray she put together looked damn good if she said so herself. Cheese ball in the middle with alternating yellow and white cheeses surrounding it in a pinwheel pattern. Yep, damn good indeed. “Sienna, where do you want the cheese tray?”

“Umm…” Sienna didn’t look up, too preoccupied with arranging upside-down raspberries on top of the chocolate ganache cake she made. “The banquet table by the window maybe? There’s more room for people to mill around over there.”

Kayla looked around, finding only empty space near the windows. “Banquet table?”

Glancing up, Sienna shook her head and went back to the raspberries. “Bryce!”

“Yo!” he called out.

“Where’s that banquet table you said you’d set up?”

“Oh, shit,” he laughed before bringing the table in from the living room where he and Elijah had been fiddling with the tv for the last half hour. “Sorry, ladies.”

“What are you even doing in there?” Kayla asked as Bryce unfolded the legs and flipped the table right side up.

“Helping Elijah with the surround sound,” he answered simply, taking a folded red tablecloth from the kitchen table and spreading it over the one he just set up.

“Do you really need to be doing that right now?”

Shrugging in response, he sauntered over, gave Kayla a quick peck on the lips while squeezing her ass, then snatched a piece of cheese, popping it in his mouth before going back into the living room.

Minutes later the front door opened with a thump and Jackie’s voice rang out, “Oh, hell no. You two don’t get to do whatever it is you’re doing in here while we do all the work. It’s all hands on deck so get your asses up and help. And before you say it, no, Lahela, I don’t care that you don’t technically live here. God knows you’re here enough it’s like you do. You can start by putting these bags of ice on the balcony.”

Eyebrows raised, Kayla slowly turned to grin at Sienna, finding her covering her laugh with a hand plastered to her mouth. “Remind me to buy Jackie a pony for her birthday.”

“Or a bottle of tequila,” Sienna giggled.

Kayla picked up her glass of red wine, waiting for Sienna to do the same before clinking their glasses together. “Hear. Hear.”

An hour later, people were trickling in. The cold food was moved to the kitchen table and the hot to the banquet table because that’s where the outlets were, the bar was set up, holiday music was playing and Kayla was mingling in a fitted midnight blue dress that was both sexy and elegant.

“I’m loving this party even more than your last one, Donovan.” Zaid’s tone was as dry as ever, expression impassive as he bopped to the beat of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Oh, thanks! It was a team effort.” A knock sounded at the door and Kayla excused herself before opening it with a smile.

“Rookie.”

“You came!” Kayla gasped, putting on an air of shock with her hand pressed to her chest. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“This is for you.” Standing stiffly in the doorway, he thrust a bottle of red wine into her hands. “I know you like red.”

“I do, thanks, Ethan.” Considering how reluctant he looked, she grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him into the room. “Come on, no one’s gonna bite you. Can I get you anything to drink? Bryce is supposed to be playing bartender but he’s fallen in love with my tv.”

A brief look of confusion flashed across Ethan’s face before he shook his head, probably deciding he didn’t care enough to ask. “What do you have?”

Kayla shrugged. “Everything? I can make you a brandy old fashioned or cranberry mule. Those are our signature drinks.”

“Old Fashioneds are generally made with bourbon.”

“Not in the Midwest,” Kayla smirked. “It’s really big in Wisconsin.”

“You’re from Chicago…” Ethan shook his head again. “What’s a ‘cranberry mule’?”

“Bryce,” Kayla called out. “What’s in the cranberry mule?”

Bryce’s voice came from by the tv, only now he had the thing turned to the side. “Four ounces ginger beer, four ounces cranberry juice, two ounces rum and the juice of half a lime.” His head popped up, looking at her over the top. “Put that in a shaker then pour over ice and garnish with a slice of lime and some cranberries. Make sure you use a copper mug.”

“Ok, seriously, what are you doing over there?!”

“I’m almost done.” Grinning, Bryce shot her a wink and ducked back down.

Rolling her eyes, Kayla turned back to Ethan. “Don’t ask because I have no idea what he’s doing.”

“I wasn’t going to. I don’t care.”

“Nice,” she stated, raising her eyebrow and pressing her lips into the tiniest pout. “Well? Your drink, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I’ll take Scotch if you have it.”

“Uh… if we do it’s probably not very…” Kayla grimaced, leading Ethan to the bar across the room. “Oh, wait! I think Landry might have left some here.” Reaching her destination, Kayla ducked down and pulled a bottle from the lower shelf. “Ha!” she exclaimed as she stood up. “Score one for the jackass.”

“Babe! Kayla!” Bryce shouted out over the noise. He smiled when she looked over, then his gaze seemed to move past her and he gave a subtle nod. “Can you help me with something quick?”

“Be right there!” she replied as she splashed some Scotch in a glass. She handed it to Ethan and gave him a little push. “Go have fun. Socialize. Be normal.” Ignoring his look of disdain, she moved back into the living room. “What’s up?”

“I need you to sit on the couch,” Bryce instructed, turning the tv back the right way.

“Why?”

“Because I need to make sure the angle is right.”

“Angle for what?”

Bryce’s eyes widened, brows raised to give her a look that said, ‘just do it’.

“Fine.” The couch that had been filled with various guests all night was miraculously empty and Kayla sat down carefully so she didn’t flash everyone with the new lingerie Bryce had given her. That show was for his eyes only. “Are you finally going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”

“Stop asking questions,” Bryce laughed as the conversation around them grew quieter. “Elijah?” The music cut out and the lull in conversations spread through the apartment. “Ok, now push the input button on the tv remote.”

Brow furrowed, Kayla reached for the remote on the coffee table. Whatever he had planned, it seemed like most of the people in attendance were aware of it. If it turned out to be a slideshow of embarrassing photos from throughout the year or a video of her drunk ass singing karaoke, Bryce was a dead man. All eyes on her, Kayla pressed the button and the tv lit up. She screamed, both of her hands flying up to cover her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. Before her, her family sat crowded together, enough of them they filled all seventy inches of the screen.

Her dad Sean leaned forward, squinting at the camera in front of him. “Is that it? Can she see us now?”

“Oh my god, Dad.” Squished against him, Kayla’s nineteen-year-old sister Brianna rolled her eyes. “Why do you think she’s screaming?”

“Shut up, you’re all ruining it!” Gran scolded from where she was wedged between Kayla’s dad and her brother Owen. “On the count of three… one… two… three…”

“Nollaig Shona, Kayla!” Everyone shouted as they smiled and waved, not exactly in sync but close enough.

“Nollaig Shona, everyone!” Kayla returned the sentiment, smiling and waving back. She looked around the room at her smiling friends and colleagues. “That’s Irish for ‘Merry Christmas’,” she explained. Her lip began to quiver and she looked at Bryce, waving him over as her eyes flooded with tears. “Get over here.” She felt her face crumple and pressed her palm over her lips as her boyfriend finally came over, looking uncharacteristically subdued. Sitting beside her, he slung his arm around her shoulders and she turned toward him, hugging him around his waist as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, trying to choke back her quiet sobs.

“Hey, everybody.” Bryce’s voice was tight as he gently rubbed her back. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, she could hear the smile in his tone. “Merry Christmas. Thanks for helping me out with all of this.”

The comforting movement of his hand didn’t cease as he continued to chat with her family and when she was sure the tears had stopped flowing, Kayla peeled herself off him. “Well, my make-up is officially ruined,” she laughed, swiping at her cheeks. Sienna appeared out of nowhere and with tears in her eyes, thrust a wad of Kleenex into Kayla’s hands. “Thanks, Sienna.” Kayla did her best to clean the mascara from beneath her eyes then smiled, shaking her head in awe. “I just can’t believe you’re all in front of me right now.” Her eyes watered again.

“That man of yours is more than just a pretty face, Kayla,” her sister-in-law Meghan said.

“And what a face it is,” Gran added, giving the most exaggerated wink possible.

“Oh, don’t I know it, Gran,” Kayla agreed. “Great hair, too.”

“And a body to boot!” Gran slapped her hand on her skinny little knee. “Bet he’s a right stallion in the sack. You young ones get all the action these days.”

“Okay! Enough of that!” her big brother Sean shouted, clamping his hands over his four-year-old daughter’s ears while Kayla’s dad dropped his head in his hand mumbling something Kayla couldn’t make out. If she had to guess, it was ‘Lord in heaven’.

“Sorry, Sean,” Kayla laughed. Her eyes roamed the faces in front of her; her dad, grandma, her sister and two of her brothers, a few aunts, and uncles and some cousins. “Hey, where’s mom and Connor?” Of all her siblings she was closest to Connor, they were best friends on top of being brother and sister and her mom was her biggest cheerleader. No way would they not be a part of Bryce’s surprise.

“Oh, I imagine they’ll be coming in the door any minute now,” her dad said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ll let you get back to your party, Punkin. Don’t forget to call us now.”

“I won’t, Dad,” Kayla promised. “It was great seeing you guys and I love you all so much!”

“We love you too, Kayla!” they all shouted back, waving again as they said goodbye.

“Now how the hell do I turn this damn thing off…” her dad grumbled, looking down at his remote before the connection ended.

As the music started and the party resumed, Kayla turned to Bryce, who was looking mighty proud of himself. She grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him to her, planting a kiss on his lips. The doorbell rang and she pulled away. “Duty calls but later, you’re mine.”

“I mean, we can just kick everybody out now,” he teased, leaning in for another kiss. She laughed, giving him a swat on the shoulder but he snuck one anyway. “Get the door, babe. I’ll even come with you.”

“Ah, now that your ruse is over you’ll join the festivities?”

“Something like that.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet. When they reached the door, he stopped her a few feet away with an arm around her waist then stepped forward to open it himself.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kayla shouted when she saw who was on the other side.

“Kayla Donovan!” her mom Erin scolded. “Such language!”

“And on Christmas too!” her brother Connor added in a mock scandalized voice with his eyes wide and a palm pressed to his forehead.

Her mom laughed, holding her arms out wide. “Surprise!”

The initial shock had worn off and Kayla launched herself into her mother’s arms. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She held tight for a moment, then turned to Connor.

“Brat,” he greeted.

“Jerk.”

Laughing, he grabbed Kayla around the waist and lifted her off her feet, bouncing a few times before setting her back down. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Kay. Bryce,” Connor nodded as Bryce turned away from the warm hug her mom had given him and held out his hand, doing that weird handshake-shoulder clapping thing guys did. “Good to see you again, too. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Let’s get you guys a drink. There’s a ton of people you have to meet.”

Heart full and cheeks sore from smiling, Kayla paraded her mom and brother around the room, introducing them to all of the people who had become so important to her. When Sienna eventually dragged them to the kitchen to eat, Kayla turned to Bryce, smiling up at him as she looped her arms around his neck. “You.”

“Me.” His warm hands slid around her hips, pulling her tighter until they were pressed against his.

“You’re the best boyfriend in the entire world.”

“I know.” An easy smile spread across his cheeks. “Handsome, too.”

“And the smartest, most thoughtful,” Her words were punctuated by quick kisses. “most supportive, sweetest, the best lover, the…”

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush,” he laughed, then raised his eyebrow as his lips settled into a cocky smirk. “You’re not wrong, though. I am pretty amazing.”

“And so humble,” she laughed with him. Gazing into his eyes, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Bryce was home, no matter where it was. “Seriously, Bryce, this was… I can’t believe you did all this.”

“I almost didn’t think I would pull it off,” he admitted. “The Portal thing was supposed to be here weeks ago but it got lost somewhere in Ohio and just came today. Then your dad couldn’t get his to work and threatened to throw the thing in the lake, and now today your mom and Connor’s flight was delayed by like four hours. I’m surprised I survived.”

As he spoke, Kayla’s smile grew wider and when he finally stopped talking, she pulled him down to press a slow kiss to his lips. She pulled back, just enough to lock her eyes with his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas.”

#open heart fanfic #Bryce x mc #choices open heart #12 days of fictmas #im super proud of myself I got this done on time #not even gonna lie

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 5 years

Text

Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 12)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

Chaos.

Chaos ensued immediately as Ron loudly said, “Well, is this a party or what? Quit staring.”

Guests began to whisper; one person’s eyes were moving rapidly between everyone and Harry worried they would pass out. There were a few guests that were clearly uncomfortable by the way they were shifting from one foot to the other. Someone gasped loudly and far too dramatically to not be on purpose. It wasn’t until he looked closer that he realized it Parkinson, who winked at him when he caught her eyes.

As he looked around the room looking for Astoria who was weirdly absent, he could see Neville’s plants—the sheer amount of them stuck out and he wondered again, what was the point? There was only one table and it drew his attention; it had a handful of chairs available and that was it. That was calculated, only a select few would be able to sit while everyone else was to remain standing. Classic Nott, assert superiority and watch on with pity.

“What’s going on?” Nott demanded as he stood up, knocking over an ostentatious goblet, voice booming in the now silence of the room.

“None of you were invited.”

“I don’t need an invite,” Malfoy drawled, tone bored and eyes cold, far colder than Harry had seen. “Neither does Longbottom or Weasley. I know it’s hard to keep up but do try, won’t you?”

Nott’s fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and Harry knew it was a tactic to remain calm, the habit was the only stress reliever that worked for him.

“If you must stay where you are unwanted then you are held responsible,” Nott said through gritted teeth. “The rest, however, do not belong here.”

“I do,” Harry said and watched Nott’s eyes flash with something. “You see, Draco is not only my date, but my boyfriend.”

Malfoy’s hand squeezed around his and he wasn’t sure if it was because he used his first name or the situation itself.

“What?” Nott whispered as he slumped into the chair, and for the first time, Harry could see that he was rattled. “How? Why?”

“It’s amazing how much we have in common, isn’t it?” Malfoy mocked, a harsh laugh reverberating around the room. “Like our shared experiences on how much of a colossal bag of shit you were to us.”

The whispers broke out again and Parkinson pulled out a Quick-Quotes Quill and started taking notes. Part of him wanted to hex it out of her hands, but this was the quickest way for the news to hit the papers and he really wanted to see the headlines.

“Why? Why did you come here?”

Malfoy extended his free hand and gestured around the room. “To celebrate.”

“Your friends aren’t welcome,” Nott sneered, eyes on Dean, and Harry unsheathed his wand.

“Okay,” Dean shrugged, “But the painting behind you is coming with me then.”

“Excuse you?” Nott angled his head towards the painting—it was massive, taking up most of the back wall—frown in place and eyes narrowed. “This is on loan from a reputable museum—not that you would know anything about that—you can’t take it.”

“I’m the artist,” Dean snarled. “It’s only because of me that the museum let it go for the night. I am to accompany it wherever it goes. Seems you are the one that wouldn’t know anything about being reputable.”

“And I’m the entertainment!” Seamus yelled when Nott’s face darkened. “Booked by you, yourself.”

Nott’s eyes closed briefly before he held up a hand. “Pardon? I did not book you. I booked the Weird Sisters.”

Seamus mounted his broom as he placed a finger on his chin. “I assure you; I was booked. Feel free to check for yourself.”

Before Nott could say anything, Seamus took off, Quidditch equipment following behind him.

“Who wants to be the seeker to my chaser?” Seamus asked, head down and not watching where he was going at all. Several people screamed when he weaved in-between them before he held tight to the broom and zooming underneath the table. Panic caused those closest to move too suddenly and many chairs tipped over, one lady grabbing hold of the tablecloth—pulling everything on top with her before the sound of shattering glass was nearly drowned out by Seamus’ whoop of laughter.

“Any takers?” He asked, a wide grin on his face and eyes lit up with excitement. “Can’t promise much, but we’d have fun, that’s for sure.” His brows waggled before he pulled out his flask and downed it in one go.

“What kind of fun?” Parkinson asked, eyes on Seamus and quill resting at her sides. She looked curious and Harry wanted to say something but when her lips quirked, he knew it was a lost cause.

“You want to find out?” Seamus lowered till he was flying right above her, snitch and bludger still chasing each other around his head.

That sounded like a bad idea but when it came to Seamus, bad ideas were the only ones he liked.

“Zabini!” Nott yelled, voice far too loud. “What have you done?”

The crowd dispersed, split down the middle and it reminded Harry of a story the Dursley’s told during the two-week time period where they tried—and failed—to be religious.

Zabini’s hand stilled, champagne glass near his face as his now widened eyes looked around the room.

“Pardon?” He straightened up and pulled at his already pristine robes. “Why am I to blame? I’ve done nothing.”

“I can see that,” Nott snarled. “It’s your bloody party company.”

“Ah,” Zabini nodded. “Right, forgot about that.”

When people began to grumble suspiciously, Zabini continued, one hand raised complacently. “Mother’s last husband—may he rest in peace—left behind Vintage by Design. She gave it to me. Can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”

“You better,” Nott threatened, voice a hoarse whisper. “It’s the only reason you are standing here.”

Harry was so used to purebloods sticking together that he was confused. When Zabini’s free hand clenched tightly he realized it was because he wasn’t part of the Sacred 28. Elitism stacked on elitism.

“I have the itinerary, do shut up.”

“Excuse you—”

Zabini pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment that had seen better days. “It would appear that the choice in entertainment was changed recently. It does say Finnigan was booked.”

“By whom?” There was a red flush to Nott’s face and Harry knew it was due to anger.

Zabini lifted up the parchment higher, eyes squinting as he tried to read it. “Just says…” he trailed off before his shoulders tensed and his eyes closed briefly. When they opened, he locked eyes with Malfoy.

“Nothing,” he whispered, voice carrying. “It says nothing. Must have been overlooked.”

Harry moved to whisper in Malfoy’s ear as Nott started threatening to sue. “Did you know he’d cover for you?”

Malfoy shook his head. “It was a fifty-fifty toss-up.”

“And if it hadn’t worked?”

Malfoy turned his head till his lips brushed against Harry’s ear. “I always have a backup plan, Potter.”

He shivered when a warm puff of air tickled his earlobe. He tilted his head and let Malfoy’s lips move down his neck.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said louder than intended. There was something weirdly attractive about how resourceful Malfoy was.

The familiar feeling of a smile pressed into his skin would’ve had him smiling too if it wasn’t for Nott slamming his hand on the table, startling several people, including them.

“I want you two out,” Nott pointed at Harry and Malfoy. “And take your low life friends with you.”

“Hey,” Seamus threw the bludger at Nott who barely ducked in time. “I might be a lowlife, but Dean isn’t.”

Dean snorted as Ron and Neville let out outraged noises and began to argue.

“What’s going on?”

The crowd turned as one to see Astoria walk in, hands on her hips and lips curled downward. “This place is a mess.”

Malfoy didn’t look at her, he chose to watch Nott instead, so Harry did too. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but Nott’s eyes grew softer, the anger lessening the further she entered the room. It was a weird effect, as if she was calming him with just her presence. Clearly, Nott was far fonder of her than he’d been with either of them.

When he looked back at Malfoy, there was a smirk that bordered on malicious and it made him want to step back.

“Astoria,” Nott extended a hand, gesturing her forward. “Your absence worried me.”

She looked around the room warily before settling on the wrecked table and destroyed dishes. “Something came up, I had to attend to it.”

What could have been more important than her own engagement party? When she bypassed Nott’s hand, Harry felt like he was missing something.

Movement drew his attention and he watched Dean slide Bandit out from his robes and place him on the ground. The Niffler immediately blended into the floor and he lost sight of him.

“However,” she continued, tone hesitant and distaste marring her features. “I didn’t think this was what our party would look like.” Her nose wrinkled the more she looked around the room.

When her eyes rested on Malfoy, she smiled softly, and her eyes closed as the smile grew and her cheeks lifted.

“Draco.”

“Astoria.”

Nott looked between them, eyes cold and narrowed.

“It’s so nice to see you.” Astoria left the table to approach Malfoy. “I had hoped you wouldn’t attend though.”

“I know,” Malfoy said with a huff of laughter. “It was unavoidable.”

Astoria noticed their clasped hands before she realized just who they belonged to. “Oh,” she mumbled, eyes briefly flickering towards Harry’s scar.

“Is this why…” she trailed off; voice barely audible as she looked to Malfoy who shook his head.

“You know why.”

She looked to the ground, her smile turning sombre. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Astoria?” Nott asked, and for the first time since they arrived, the anger in his voice was replaced with an uncertainty that was uncommon.

Astoria cleared her throat and a flash of a smile lit her face as she turned enough to see Nott. The smile was beautiful; it stretched her lips and her teeth flashed and it seemed to calm Nott, but it was fake. Utterly and irrevocably fake.

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” His smile was forced, the attempt at remaining cordial was laughable.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Malfoy drawled, fingers tapping the back of Harry’s hand rapidly. He felt a swoosh of energy signifying familiar magic.

The closest plant near Nott vanished and he knew it was Malfoy’s doing. He wasn’t good when it came to Herbology, but he could tell it had been one of the peppermint plants.

Nott’s face showed anger and his mouth parted to speak, but his brows furrowed, and a hand moved to rub his temple as whatever he had been going to say didn’t happen. He always did have recurring headaches, so to Harry, it wasn’t uncommon.

Headache. Harry groaned, he couldn’t help it. That’s what the look Malfoy gave him had meant when the plan was explained. Neville said the Witch’s Ganglion would give people a headache without the peppermint plants. His brows furrowed the longer he thought about it. What would the plant do to someone who already had headaches? Why have the peppermint plants around if they negated the effects?

Nott raised his wand to his temple and Harry knew it was a relaxant to ease the headache. A spell he’d seen him perform countless times.

When his wand lowered, Malfoy’s hand tightened around Harry’s and the look on his face screamed triumph. Only, he wasn’t sure what they had won.

Another set of fingers tapping against the back of his hand and the peppermint plant was returned. Nott’s shoulders slumped in relief and Harry could only assume the headache had dispersed.

“Oh?” Nott asked as he straightened up and sneered at Malfoy. “Like what? Pray tell what I don’t know.”

“Draco, don’t,” Astoria whispered but it was too quiet, and her voice carried. Malfoy didn’t spare her a glance, his eyes were solely on Nott.

“Like the fact that Astoria wanted to marry me but settled for you.”

“Oh shit,” Parkinson gasped, the sound of her quill scratching on the parchment before all hell broke loose.

-----

Today’s update is a little short but I wanted to get out there as is. I am sooo curious on any theories you guys might have. If anyone is confused, I would recommend rereading some of the parts, especially where Draco mentions Astoria. It might give you some clues.

Seamus is one of my favs of this story shksk. I have fun writing him every time. All mistakes are mine, I did not have a beta this time around. My baby is sleeping, maybe next time! I hope you all liked it!

Tag list:

@biconpotter @ive-been-found @h2octopuppy @watermystic78 @its-soupin-time @a-couchpotato @meghansm @portiamarie02 @irishbeings @lilyinthebreeze @rumpixel @idgiedw @tommydarlin @dolewhipdreamer @trans-nik-sion @mistydeath @yourspookysoul @bubbleblower @renas @silver-mercurials @puffbts @jasmine-tw @victorieinthesmallthings @gens-venturia @unicornhair-core @orkedad @juju092118 @pilesofriles @drarryybabyy @sweetlialia @bughug1999 @thesimplethingsaresweet @cookiepufflove @dagger222 @dianiedisaster @sorgenprinzessin @kingsipning @february-skye @spidey-pal @myrvaenboys @cportera @mydarlingdielle @just-some-bibliophile @abstractundefined @latetotheapocolypse

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Fake Dating #Enemies Fake Dating #don't kill me over the cliffhanger #okay #I needed to end it there #for reasons #idk why but I'm nervous about this one #I've hovered over the post button for 5 minutes now

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justaghostingon · 4 years

Text

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 7: Trouble for Dinner

Kodya’s mother returns, and Kodya and Nephthys find a few unexpected guests join them for dinner.

Warning! Heavy topics below, including implied non consent. A selkie shows up and she has a kid. You do the math.

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/64961422

or below the cut

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Kodya. He was completely average as far as little boys go. He loved all animals, but dinosaurs were his favorite. He loved to go to the beach with his parents, even though he couldn’t swim. His father loved to oblige him, taking him out on the fishing boat and reassuring him that not knowing how to swim was actually good luck for a sailor. His mother however, rarely came to the sea, often claiming her long work hours as the reason for her absence. But that was fine. Kodya knew she worked hard to provide for them. His parents loved him and each other. They told him so. And like every little boy, he believed his world was perfect.

---------

Kodya did what he always did when he panicked. He called Nephthys. “We’ve got a problem!” He snapped into the receiver, not even bothering to say hello. “Mother is coming home! Saturday!”

“She’s what?” Nephthys cried, and Kodya heard the distant clang of something falling to the ground. “She didn’t say!” Nephthys sounded a little hurt. Ouch. Kodya would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a rush of jealousy as he was reminded that Nephthys talked to his mother more than he did.

“Well she told me,” he said through gritted teeth. “And it's worse than that.”

“Worse? How?” Nephthys cried, and Kodya drew in a sharp breath.

“She told me to invite friends,” he hissed, placing all his emphasis on the last word. “Friends Nephthys, don’t you see? She knows!”

“No!” Nephthys cried, her voice going higher. “She can’t! There’s no way! I didn’t tell her anything!” The fear in her voice made Kodya’s own fear grow stronger. He dimly wondered why he always called Nephthys in these situations.

“Well she figured it out somehow.” Kodya began to pace around the house. “She knows about the Kid and Fluffy and Red…” Nephthys gave a slight gasp, and Kodya stopped pacing. “You gasped.” He snapped, as he suddenly remembered why it was he always called Nephthys in these situations. “Nephthys what did you do?”

“I might have mentioned your dolphins,” Nephthys began, guilt lacing her voice. “And how I suspected you’d met someone you were too embarrassed to introduce me to, since you started bringing sea glass with the flimsy lie of a dolphin getting it for you.”

“You told her what?!” Kodya cried, as a rush of heat turned his cheeks red, even in the privacy of his own home. “Nephthys!”

“Now, now!” Nephthys chastened. “This is a good thing! She only knows you had a possible boyfriend, nothing about mermaids at all! We can work with this!”

“How?” Kodya ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “She knows the Kid exists! What do you want him to do? Pretend to be my boyfriend to throw her off the scent?” And if Kodya had been any less terrified, he’d probably be blushing at the mere thought.

“Absolutely not!” Nephthys said sharply. “We can’t have her anywhere near them, or she’d figure it out in a heartbeat. No,” and Kodya could hear the rustle of her hair as she shook her head. “We need to do the opposite. Play it off like it didn’t work out, he moved away, or wasn’t interested, and you don’t want to talk about it.”

“So you want me to play the loser to get pity, is that it?” Kodya grit his teeth once more.

“Exactly!” Nephthys said. “That way she won’t press.” And Kodya really would have liked to protest this plan, but he had to admit it would work. His mother would be unlikely to press him on such a messy subject. She’d never liked talking about love.

“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll tell the mermaids to postpone, and we’ll play up the dumped boyfriend card.”

“That’s the spirit!” Nephthys cheered. “I’ll start getting the house ready right away!”

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

It was on a fishing trip that Kodya first realized his world wasn’t as perfect as he’d thought. It had been a lovely day, clear skies up ahead and a soft breeze ruffling through Kodya’s short hair. There had been a seal on a buoy, the biggest one Kodya had ever seen, staring back at them across the water. He, and Kodya knew it was a he for some unknown reason, had looked so intelligent that when it had opened its mouth Kodya had leaned over the edge of the boat, almost in a trance, to hear what the seal would say.

Cold water splashed against his face, starling Kodya as he pulled back into the boat. His mind trying to catch up with what had just happened. A sharp “chip!” noise came from the spot he had just taken, and Kodya saw the cheeky grin of a dolphin smiling back at him.

Bang! A sharp noise knocked Kodya’s head forward as he gripped his ears in pain. The dolphin gave a slight cry and slipped down into the water, a small smoking hole in its pretty grey skin. “Kodya!” His father rushed to his side, gun held aloft.

“You killed him!” Kodya cried, nausea rising in his stomach.

His father frowned, like he couldn’t understand why Kodya was making such a big deal of it. “The dolphin could have hurt you. It was wild.”

“But you aren’t supposed to kill dolphins!” Kodya pressed, feeling his eyes begin to tear up as he looked at the creature’s still floating corpse. “They’re protected!”

His father snorted. “No one really cares about those laws, Kodya, you’d be surprised how many of those so called activists will pay to eat a dolphin just like the one I shot today.” His brow furrowed as Kodya tried to blink away tears. “Don’t go crying Kodya. We’re fishermen, you’re going to have to get used to this if you want to make any kind of living. You hear me?” He gave Kodya’s shoulder a small shake.

“I hear you,” Kodya gave a slight sniffle, rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand.

“Good,” his father said. “Now help me get that thing in the net. We might as well make some money off of it.” Kodya gave a dismal nod and began to do as his father ordered. As he lifted his head he saw the seal was still watching him from across the water. The seal watched him, a deep, angry coldness in his black eyes. And Kodya had looked away, ashamed.

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

Kodya checked the kitchen once again. Mess, cleaned up. Food, he paused to stick his pinky in the mash potatoes. The flavor burst in his mouth. Hmmm, he moved it around his tongue. Did it need more herbs?

“Nephthys?” He called. She came barreling into the kitchen, still fixing her hair into a slightly fancier ponytail than normal.

“Is something wrong Kody?” She asked as she pulled her hair through the final loop. Kodya took a spoon and held up the mashed potatoes.

“How’s it taste?” He asked. Nephthys grabbed the spoon and stuffed it in her mouth, one hand straightening her white blouse.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “This is really good Kody!”

“Good,” Kodya began scooping the mashed potatoes into a dish with a spoon. “How’s the table looking?”

“Already set up,” Nephthys replied as she glanced back out of the kitchen to check just in case. Kodya nodded and carried the mashed potatoes to the dining room, placing it on their best lace tablecloth. He absently straightened the edges, careful not to upset the fine china on top. Technically, he didn’t have to do anything that didn’t have to do with the kitchen, since he didn’t live here anymore. As Nephthys put it, ‘I made the mess, I should clean it up.’ But that age old instinct was still present to make sure everything was perfect for his mother’s return.

“She’s late,” Nephthys bustled into the dining room, casting an anxious look at the clock. “She’s never late.”

“Maybe she got held up,” Kodya replied as he tugged at the collar of his best button up. Nephthys shook her head.

“She’s never held up,” she said. “Something must have happened,” Kodya was about to protest that his mother could handle herself when the doorbell gave a sharp clang.

Both Nephthys and Kodya jumped. Nephthys hurried around the table towards the door, but Kodya was closer. He pulled the door open, to see his mother standing on the other side, arms folded.

It would never stop being weird to Kodya that he was taller than his mother now. At 5’9 and stout from a life of lifting weights and bearing Kodya, she was no petite by any means. But that didn’t make it any less weird that his eye level was with her hair.

“Hello Kodya,” she said, hair shifting slightly as she moved her head to peak over his shoulder, “Hello Nephthys.” Kodya lowered his own eyes to meet hers, wide and black and so very different from his own. Everything was different between them really, except the coarse brown hair they both shared. Kodya had always taken more after his father. Sometimes he wondered if his mother resented him for it.

“Hey,” he said, instinctively hunching his shoulders. His mother frowned, lifting a hand to touch his cheek.

“Your hair has gotten longer,” she murmured as she ran her fingers through it. Kodya leaned into the touch, enjoying the sensation.

“I like it long,” he said softly, eyes half closed as his mother continued to pet his head. For one moment, everything was right in the world. Then, because nothing ever seemed to go his way, a flash of green caught his eye.

Kodya jerked his head upwards, and his mother stepped back in alarm. “Kid?” Kodya cried, as Gyrus appeared behind his mother, hauling a familiar suitcase up the path.

“Kodya?” Gyrus gasped, taking a step back as Tori and Sylvia came up behind him, each with another piece of luggage.

His mother looked between Kodya and Gyrus. “Do you two know each other?” she asked. Behind him Kodya could feel Nephthys stiffen.

“What are you doing here Kid?” Kodya demanded, confusion and anger overriding his own panic. Gyrus gave a sheepish smile.

“Well, you said you were busy today, so I switched days off with Maria so we’d have another free.” Kodya raised an eyebrow and Gyrus continued hastily, “then we met this lady outside and her car had broken down, and she needed our help to move her suitcases while the truck took her car away.” Beside him Fluffy hauled one of the suitcases in the air and flexed her muscles.

“You said you would be busy with your mother,” Red added, crossing her arms as a note of accusation entered her voice. Gyrus jumped, panicked hands moving to try and signal Tori to stop talking. Tori ignored him.

Kodya facepalmed, wondered what horrible thing he had done to anger the universe to cause such an implausible coincidence to happen. “This <i>is</i> my mother. Who I’m having dinner with. Right now.” He gestured to his mother, who crossed her arms.

Tori turned as red as her hair and Sylvia’s mouth fell open. Gyrus pushed between them, no doubt attempting to run damage control before anyone else got insulted. “Hello!” he said as he stuck out his hand, and Kodya was suddenly very grateful working in the service industry had taught Gyrus basic manners. “I’m Gyrus!”

“Senator Karevic,” she replied as she gave Gyrus’s hand a firm shake. “Pleased to finally meet a friend of my son’s.” Kodya winced at that, it was looking like it was going to be harder and harder to get out of this. He shot Nephthys a look, do something! He silently pleaded.

“It’s so kind of you to help!” She said with false cheer. “And of Alistair to let you help for a few minutes!” Please take the hint and go back to work. Her eyes said.

“Oh my shift was already over,” Gyrus gave a half laugh, completely missing how Nephthys’ face fell. “Apparently Maria doesn’t work as late as I usually do.” Behind him Sylvia frowned, seeming to notice something was wrong.

“Why don’t you come in and join us for dinner?” Kodya’s mother smiled her winning smile, the one she used for campaigns and parent-teacher conferences. “We’d love the company.”

“We wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Tori hesitated, and Kodya felt hope rise in his chest.

“Nonsense,” Kodya’s mother shook her head and Kodya felt his hope shatter into a million pieces. “We would love to have you. Right Kodya?” She raised an eyebrow in a way that made it very clear that Kodya was going to agree, or offer up a very good reason as to why not. Kodya bit his lip.

“We’d love to have you,” he said through gritted teeth, then added, “Nephthys, why don’t you help Mother move upstairs, since you know the new layout best.”

“Yes!” Nephthys sang, snatching the suitcase right out of Gyrus’ hands. “Let’s go on up!” She pulled it forward with an unexpected strength, forcing Kodya’s mother to hurry after her. “We’ll just be a minute!” She hollered while she shot Kodya a look that said, get them to behave while I’m gone.

Fluffy placed a hand on Kodya’s arm, furrowing her brow in a silent question. Kodya took a deep breath.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he started, shaking off Sylvia’s hand. All three mermaids froze.

“Is something the matter?” Gyrus asked, finally beginning to read the writing on the walls.

“Yes,” Kodya growled. “My mother is here. My mother who is in the government. Who. Can. Not. Know. About. Mermaids, or she’d have to report it! This is the absolute worst place for you to be! What were you thinking?”

“That’s hardly fair.” Red scowled. “How were we supposed to know? She looks far too old to be thy mother.” Gyrus’ eyes widened with realization, and Kodya would bet money that he hadn’t explained the differences of human and mermaid aging to Tori. He looked down.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Kodya pinched the brow of his nose. “What matters is you’re here. And as long as you’re in the same room, you can only talk about human things, understand? Nothing that could give you away!”

“So numbers and ice cream and stuff like that?” Gyrus asked as he tapped his chin. “Like making small talk with Maria and Knox.”

“Yes! Exactly.” Kodya pointed a finger at him. “From now on, you’ll do most of the talking. The rest of you,” he cast a sharp look at Fluffy and Red, “stick to subjects you know. If you’re not sure, don’t talk at all. Got it?”

Red nodded, but Fluffy frowned. She opened her mouth and hummed a few bars before cocking her head to the side to say, why don’t we just sing her into forgetting us?

“Absolutely-” Kodya began, but was interrupted by Nephthys crying out.

“We’re back!” As she came down the stairs.

“-Time for dinner,” he Kodya straightened, trying to look as nonchalant as he possibly could. As if that was all they’d been talking about. “Please,” he added through gritted teeth. “Take a seat.”

Gyrus, Tori, and Sylvia all awkwardly climbed into the chairs around the table. They didn’t have much grace, but at least they only looked like mannerless idiots and not fish without a clue how anything worked. Kodya sat carefully in his own seat, holding his arms close so he didn’t bump the elbow of Gyrus to his left. It was strange to have the table so full. The only time it had been this crowded had been when they’d had neighbors over when Kodya had been small. But those had come to a stop thanks to his father. Kodya’s brow furrowed at the memory.

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

Kodya was ten when his father got sick. It was a long, slow sickness that took over a year to kill him. It started with coughing, then throwing up. Some days would be good, and he’d be almost better. But other days he could barely rise from the bed. Mother started to be around a bit more, to care for Kodya, she said, making sure his meals were cooked and he went to school on time.

Kodya was glad to see his mother more often, but he almost wished she wouldn’t. Because when she was home, it was only a matter of time before she and father got into a fight. The house would rattle as angry words would fly back and forth. Kodya would huddle in front of the TV, volume turned high as it would go, and let the Transformers drown out all other sound.

Sometimes Mother would come down to breakfast with makeup that was thicker than normal. But even then, Kodya hadn’t thought anything of it. His mother was a former navy seal. There was no way a sickly man like his father could hurt her.

-----------

“Kodya?” Nephthys’ voice echoed across the table, and Kodya looked up to meet her worried gaze. Kodya shook his head, clearing away the bad memories to see that his mother was offering him the mashed potatoes.

“Thank you,” he gave her a fixed smile as he took the dish from her hands. “I love mashed potatoes.” He piled his plate high with deliberate slowness, knowing that the mermaids were watching and taking notes. His mother raised her characteristic eyebrow.

“I should hope so,” she said wryly. “Seeing as you made them.” Nephthys gave a nervous giggle of agreement.

“You did?” Gyrus asked as he eagerly took the dish and spooned out the same amount of mashed potatoes as Kodya had taken, casting little glances over to make sure he was doing it correctly. Kodya fought the pride creeping up his stomach.

“Yeah, I made everything here,” he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. The three mermaids turned their attention to the spread of food across the table. Fluffy’s mouth started watering. He grabbed the salmon and offered it to Gyrus. “Would you like to try the rare salmon?” Then remembering he was talking to someone who ate fish raw he added, “be careful though, rare means it’s not cooked all the way through.” Which was about as close as he could get to warning him that it was cooked at all without drawing his mother’s suspicions. Maybe he should have claimed they were all vegetarian.

“Thank you,” Gyrus passed the mashed potatoes to Tori and took the fish, balancing it awkwardly between his knife and fork. As soon as he finished Tori snatched it away, placing a fish on her plate with her bare hands and giving it to Sylvia, who placed two on hers. Kodya winced as Nephthys blinked down at the single solitary fish left behind. He shot a quick glance at his mother, but she seemed not to have noticed.

“Kodya has always had a gift for cooking fish,” she smiled at Gyrus, who looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m quite sure you’ll find it enjoyable.” Kodya frowned. Why was she taking such an interest in Gyrus? Then Nephthys’ original claim about a secret boyfriend, forgotten in his panic at the mermaids’ arrival, came rushing back. Oh no.

From across the table Nephthys mimed for Gyrus to take a bite. Gyrus blinked. Nephthys bit her lip, then deliberately cut her fish and held a piece up to her mouth. She glared at Gyrus over Kodya’s mother’s head, who was still waiting patiently.

Gyrus’ eyes widened, and he stabbed his knife through the fish. It cut a jagged piece that was too large for polite company, but Gyrus didn’t notice, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth. He paused for a fraction of a second afterwards, face carefully blank, and if Kodya had not been directly next to him he doubted he would have noticed. Then the moment passed and Gyrus shot Kodya’s mother a happy grin.

“It’s really good!” He said before turning to Kodya, “you’ve really got a way with food.” He then took another bite, fixed smile firmly in place.

“He really does!” Nephthys agreed, no doubt eager to keep the conversation on safe subjects like admiring the food. Fluffy took this as a sign to eat, biting her fish in half.

“So how did you two meet?” His mother directed a calculating smile towards Kodya and Gyrus. Yep. She definitely thought they were dating. Kodya’s hands twitched as he resisted the urge to facepalm.

As if matters couldn’t get any worse, on the other side of the table he saw Sylvia spit out the salmon, making a face at him from across it. “Fish…” Kodya started and his mother wrinkled her brow. “Fishing!” Kodya cried, determined to keep her attention on him and not on Fluffy, who was now trying to clean her tongue with her hands.

“I was in the water,” Gyrus added as Tori pushed water towards Sylvia to try and help her get rid of the taste.

“Because he fell off another boat!” Kodya jumped in. Fluffy downed the water in one gulp.

“I hurt my leg,” Gyrus explained. “And had hyposomething.” Red and Fluffy looked around desperately to find a place to hide the fish.

“Hypothermia,” Kodya supplied as Nephthys directed Red and Fluffy to stick the fish in the soil of the potted plant behind her with a practiced ease that left Kodya feeling slightly insulted.

His mother blinked, looking between them with narrowed eyes, with an expression that said, I know you’re lying, but I can’t prove it. But that was fine. She’d used that expression multiple times on him and Neph, and they hadn’t gotten into trouble for it yet. Finally his mother relented, with a polite smile. “That’s quite the story. You’re very lucky Kodya was there to rescue you.”

“Yeah,” Gyrus’ face softened. “I really was very lucky to meet him.” His eyes met Kodya’s, and Kodya felt like his heart had turned to butter.

“And what about you two?” Kodya’s mother turned her attention to Tori and Sylvia. Both girls froze, trying to look like they hadn’t been hiding fish. Nephthys shifted her head slightly to cover the potted plant.

“Oh you know,” Tori gave a slight shrug as she turned her attention too Kodya’s mother. “We tried to rescue Gyrus.”

“Not that I needed it!” Gyrus cut in. “But you know, when someone falls off a boat…” he rubbed the back of his neck as he shot Tori a look that said, play along.

“I promised his mother I’d look after him,” Tori said stiffly.

“His mother?” Kodya’s mother asked. “She’s not yours?” Sylvia, Gyrus, and Nephthys all winced.

“She most certainly is not!” Tori snapped. Kodya’s mother’s mouth twisted into a slight frown. The frown she used when Kodya made a fuss over something he shouldn’t. Tori crossed her arms, clearly refusing to be intimidated.

“Don’t ask,” Kodya muttered into his mother’s ear. On the other side Nephthys nodded rapidly. His mother bit her lip.

“I apologize,” she said, and Kodya was a little surprised at how genuinely sorry she sounded. “I should not have pressed.” Tori took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms, Kodya’s mother’s genuine remorse cooling her initial anger.

“It is forgiven,” she muttered. The table fell into an awkward silence. Kodya glanced at his mother, who looked morosely down at her food. He wondered if something in the conversation had triggered her. He hadn’t thought questioning parentage would be upsetting. Then again he wouldn’t put it past his father to have said something awful. He’d gotten so paranoid he’d been willing to say just about anything, especially towards the end.

-----------

The night before he died, his father called Kodya up to his room. “Bring me some scissors and a knife,” he commanded Kodya. Kodya didn’t move.

His father sighed. “I’m not going to do anything stupid,” he reassured Kodya, a ghost of his old smile on his lips. “I just need it to take care of some old furs.” Kodya had still hesitated, he’d heard the doctors and neighbors whisper about how the mind deteriorated with illness. He didn’t want to give his father anything that could cause him to hurt himself. “Go on,” Kodya’s father said, with a bit more heat, and Kodya jumped, hurrying down the stairs two at a time.

He returned with both items, and his father snatched them out of his hands, attacking a strange brown rug over his lap in a frenzy. “Stop!” Kodya had cried, jumping to his side and trying to restrain him, but his father seemed to have gained an inhuman strength. He didn’t stop until the strange fur rug was cleaved in too.

Then he leaned back into Kodya’s arms, all his strength disappearing into the air. “You know everything I do, I do for you right son?” He smiled up at Kodya.

“Yes father,” Kodya had agreed, discreetly trying to get the scissors and knife away from him. His father snorted.

“You can take them back,” he dropped them dismissively. “I don’t need them anymore.” Kodya grabbed them and pulled them far out of his reach, feeling far from convinced. His father laughed, a warm, freeing sound, and for one second Kodya was little again on the beach.

Then his father looked at him, a sobering smile. “Don’t worry about what will happen after I die,” he said, and Kodya felt tears prick his eyes. “Hey now,” His father met his eyes. “You’re going to be fine. Your Mother is going to take care of you. I’ve ensured it. So don’t go crying, got that?”

Kodya had nodded. But he hadn’t been able to keep that promise. He’d cried the next day, sobbing throughout the funeral. His mother had pulled him close, she’d never cared that he cried. Her eyes had been wet, and at the time, he’d thought she was crying because she missed him too.

He’d been wrong.

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

“So Gyrus,” Kodya blinked as his mashed potatoes swam into focus at the sound of his mother’s voice. He looked up to see she had returned her attention to Gyrus, bad mood shaken off in favor of her larger goal. “What are your hobbies?” Cold dread washed over Kodya as he realized her misstep had not been enough to get her off her self-imposed mission to interrogate his supposed boyfriend.

“Hobbies?” Gyrus blinked. And Kodya silently panicked, frantically trying to remember if he’d taught Gyrus about normal human hobbies. “I enjoy spending time in the ocean, collecting sea glass, and learning from Kodya!” He added with a sideways smile at Kodya that said, I’ve got this.

“Learning?” his mother pursed her lips, glancing over at Kodya. Kodya furrowed his brow. The lie of Gyrus being a foreigner was all well and good for Anan and Alistair. They’d never been out of state. But his mother, who lived and breathed politics, wasn’t going to buy it at all.

“Dinosaurs!” He blurted out, and everyone turned to stare at him. Kodya didn’t blame them, it was a pretty stupid choice, but he couldn’t exactly back down now. “I was teaching him about dinosaurs,” he explained. “I mean, since he asked.” Right, because that was totally believable. Why oh why couldn’t he have just said fish?

“Dinosaurs are an interesting topic!” Nephthys chimed in. Kodya’s mother’s attention swung to her, one eyebrow raised. Nephthys ducked her head, cheeks burning red. Thanks Nephthys, Kodya fought the urge to roll his eyes. Would it kill you to grow a backbone? That wasn’t really fair, Kodya wasn’t much of a match against his mother’s eyebrow of judgement either, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable.

“Certainly the most interesting thing Kodya has ever taught,” Red added with a nod. Kodya wasn’t certain if she was insulting him or trying to help.

“Did you know plesiosaurs were around for 135 million years?” Gyrus leaned forward, expression serious. “Their continued survival is fascinating.”

Fluffy shuttered. She held her hands apart and snapped them together like a large jaw. Not fascinating, she shook her head. Dangerous.

“Sylvia was it?” Kodya’s mother narrowed her eyes. “That’s an interesting sign language, what country is it from?” Her voice was polite, but Kodya winced. It was the tone she took when someone decided to say something rude in the grocery store, or she was about to destroy an opponent in a televised debate.

Sylvia cocked her head as Kodya and Nephthys exchanged looks. Nephthys cleared her throat and his mother’s eyes snapped to her. “Sylvia didn’t learn any.”

“It’s a bit of a sad story,” Kodya added, “Really best not to press.” Fluffy, Red and the Kid all gave fake expressions of sadness.

“I see,” Kodya’s mother frowned, looking unconvinced. Kodya gulped. Apparently the sad story line only worked once.

“Tell me,” Kodya’s mother leaned forward, smile sharp. “Where are you from? Your accents suggest you aren’t from the states.”

“Korea!” Kodya cried, naming a country he knew his mother had no connections too. At the same time Nephthys said:

“England!” No doubt trying to explain Tori’s accent. They looked at each other as Kodya’s mother raised an eyebrow.

“What they mean is we’re all from different countries,” Gyrus offered. “I’m from Korea, and Tori’s from England, originally.”

“I see,” Kodya’s mother said, in a tone that said she knew everyone was lying, but wasn’t going to say anything yet. “And you Sylvia, where are you from?”

Me? Sylvia pointed to herself.

“Lomonosov,” Tori spoke up, and everyone turned to stare at her. “I guarantee you’ve never heard of it.”

“Actually I have,” Kodya’s mother straightened. “Lomonosov Ridge, an underwater ridge located in the arctic off of Russia.” Kodya’s blood ran cold as his mother turned to give mermaids the look she usually gave opponents on the debate floor before she eviscerated them. “Now why would you claim to be from somewhere submerged?” her smile was sharp as a knife. Kodya bowed his head, knowing it was over.

“You didn’t hear that!” Gyrus panicked, voice deepening with an odd inflection. Kodya looked up to see his mother’s features smooth into something completely blank.

“I’m sorry Sylvia,” she said in a dull, monotonous voice. “What was it you just said?”

Horror washed over Kodya as he realized where he’d heard that odd inflection before. Cynthia had moved like a puppet, and Kodya shuttered as he imagined his mother moving in that stiff, parroted walk.

“I’m sorry,” Gyrus said, pale and shaking. “I-I didn’t…”

Kodya’s mother stood up, towering over the table. “It’s time for you to leave.” She smiled at the mermaids, but there was a fury in her eyes that made Kodya shutter. He hadn’t seen that look since the seal.

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

The funeral had been on the beach. Fitting, since his mother had him buried in the sea. There hadn’t been that many people there, some concerned neighbors, the other fishermen, and a few shady looking people too. After it ended, people kept trying to talk to Kodya, to offer condolences or tell him to man up, but he shook them off.

The only one he wanted to talk to was his mother, but she was held up by one of the shady looking people, a woman in black business attire and shades like someone out of a spy movie. So instead he wandered off, down along the beach.

In the distance he spotted a seal, a great big one that seemed oddly familiar. Kodya wandered towards it, pulled forward by the strange, almost hypnotic pull of the seal’s dark eyes. The seal hated him, Kodya could see it in his eyes, but somehow he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop. Not until he was nearly on top of it, and the great seal bared its tusks and roared.

Kodya felt the sand hard against his back as he collapsed. Wet spit sprinkled on his face as the great seal reared on its back flippers and screamed. Kodya saw his eleven years flash before his eyes, and as the seal began to lung downward, he briefly wished there was more of it.

“KODYA!” A familiar voice screamed, and suddenly his mother was there, standing between him and the full fury of the seal. He wanted to cry out, wanted to stop her, but his voice was stuck in his throat. “LEAVE.” His mother swung her hand back, and slapped the seal across its fat head. “MY.” It reeled back, the force of the slap knocking it off balance. “SON.” His mother wasted no time, headbutting him in the side and knocking him back into the sand. “ALONE!”

She stood over the seal, victorious, as the funeral attendees began to run to the scene. His mother bent her head, and Kodya could see tears in her eyes. “Leave Отец,” she whispered, and Kodya wondered if he was delusional from the shock. Surely she hadn’t called the seal father. “Leave,” she said again, straightening her shoulders to better block Kodya’s view. “And never come back.”

The seal rolled on its belly, and began to flop away, back to the waves. It stopped just once, just as the strange spy lady reached Kodya’s side, to look back at his mother. It gave a single, mournful cry, almost like a farewell, and disappeared beneath the water.

His mother fell to the sand beside Kodya, pulling him forward into a tight hug. Kodya buried his head in her shoulder, as she began to cry, great ugly sobs, like her whole world was over. And despite his best intentions, Kodya found he soon followed her.

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

“Mother?” Kodya rose to his feet, trying to figure out how to defuse this situation. “What’s wrong?”

“Your friends are leaving.” His mother crossed her arms. “Right now.”

“Excuse me?” Tori jumped to her feet, Sylvia hot on her heels. Gyrus grabbed at Red’s side, no doubt trying to stop her from doing anything rash. Tori didn’t make any aggressive movements, but she did not sit back down, instead glaring at Kodya’s mother.

Kodya’s mother glared back, a single, frigid eyebrow raised, daring Tori to start anything. Kodya gulped. He hadn’t seen her so angry since her debate with a politician who’d had the nerve to call her a communist plant.

“Is this really necessary?” Nephthys started, glancing between the two with a worried expression. Kodya’s mother’s sharp frown turned to her.

“You and I will talk later, Nephthys,” she said. “You knew the rules.” Nephthys flinched like she’d been struck, looking small and lost, like she hadn’t since the day he’d pulled her out of the water. Kodya felt a surge of protective anger boil.

“Don’t go taking this out on her,” He snapped, finding himself suddenly on his feet. “They're my friends, who you invited inside.” Then he paused as his brain caught up with the strange wording. “And what do you mean by rules?” Last time he’d checked, there weren't any rules about inviting weirdos into the house, or else they’d never have kept Nephthys.

“Kodya now is not the time,” His mother grit her teeth. Beside her, Nephthys looked up, wide eyes warning Kodya to be careful.

“We should go,” Gyrus tugged Red and Fluffy from their positions. “Now.” He pulled the two of them towards the door, stopping only to whisper “Sorry,” over his shoulder, before Sylvia pulled him through.

No sooner had the door shut behind him then Kodya’s mother turned to him. “You shouldn’t see them again.” She warned, back straight as a rod. “Whatever they told you was a lie.”

“Excuse me?” Kodya scowled, crossing his arms. “I’m a grown adult! I can see whoever I want to!”

“I’m trying to protect you.” His mother shot back, “those people are dangerous. They spent the whole evening lying and -”

“I know they were lying! I asked them to lie!” Kodya shouted. His mother looked like he’d slapped her. In a quieter voice Kodya said, “Did it ever occur to you that I’ve got the common sense to know who’s trouble and who isn’t?”

His mother shook her head. “Kodya I really don’t think you don’t-”

“Ehem,” Nephthys coughed, and both turned to look at her. “I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” She turned to Kodya’s mother. “Kodya learned about sirens months ago; he knows what they can do.” Kodya flinched at the wording, casting a worried look at his mother, but she merely furrowed her brow. “And Kodya,” Nephthys gave him a rueful look, “you’ve got to admit a siren using his thrall, even just on accident, doesn’t give the best first impression.”

Kodya took a step back, shaking his head to try and clear it. Nephthys’ calming words taking a background as his mother’s lack of reaction took center stage and the pieces slowly began to fall into place. “You knew?” He exclaimed, staring at his mother in horror. “You knew there were mermaids?”

“Kodya,” his mother started, but Kodya wasn’t finished.

“Did you know about her too?” He pointed at Nephthys. His mother didn’t reply, but Kodya had grown very good at reading her silences, and he knew from the way she pursed her lips that she had. “Why,” he croaked out, looking back at Nephthys, who looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t belong in that world,” his mother said. “I was trying to protect you.”

“That’s bullshit!” Kodya snapped. “I lived with Nephthys for years! I’ve known the mermaids for months and they clearly haven't done anything to me! So tell me again what you’re supposed to be protecting me from?”

“From being killed!” His mother shook her fist in the air. “Do you have any idea what some of the elders would do to a half-blooded child like you?”

“Half-blooded?” Kodya blinked at the oddly archaic phrase. “What are you talking about? You’re not from the sea…”

“Oh Kodya,” his mother whispered, her eyes a mixing of pain, fear, and guilt. Kodya had seen that look only once before.

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

His mother starts her campaign when Kodya is a junior in high school. It was strange, having people suddenly know who he was when they hadn’t before. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on his mother’s policies, or just wanted to know what it was like to have a parent who would be famous. It looked like she was going to win by a landslide, and not just in their little town.

So he really shouldn’t have been surprised when the smear campaign started. Suddenly sleezy people were digging around, asking questions and running their mouths about anything they could. At first, it was easy to ignore, they didn’t have any real dirt anyways. That was until he turned on the news, and saw one of his father’s old fishing buddies on the big screen.

“So tell us a bit about the Kaverics,” the news reporter was saying.

“The Kaverics? Let me tell you,” the man leaned forward with a gleam in his eye, “Mr. Kaveric was about the biggest piece of scum I’d ever known. Illegal hunting, selling endangered animals on the black market, the whole shebang.”

“Really?” The reporter raised an eyebrow. “And did Mrs. Kaveric know about these dealings?”

“Know?” the fisherman cackled, “She was one! A genuine mail order Russian bride, or so I’ve been told. He was her only connection to America, and he took full advantage of that, yes he did. Used to come in late, bragging about how he didn’t have to work because he’d just make his wife do it. Sometimes she’d even show up with too much makeup, and we all knew the reason.”

Kodya snorted as he switched off the TV. “I swear this slander gets stupider and stupider.” Idiot couldn't even get his facts straight. Mail Order Russian Bride? His mother had been a distinguished navy seal when she met his father. He glanced over towards his mother wanting to make a joke, “Do you think…” He stopped.

His mother sat stiff as a board, eyes wide and unseeing as she stared at the screen. “Mother?” Kodya asked, reaching a hesitant hand out towards her. His mother flinched, whole body contorting away from him. It was just an instant, before she righted herself again, eyes going wide, and full of guilt as she tried to reach back at him. But it was too late.

Kodya’s world shattered.

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

Kodya did what he had done then, he ran. Ran and ran until he couldn’t run anymore, as if by running he could somehow escape this reality and go into a different one. But no one can run forever, even if they want to, and when Kodya eventually ran out of steam, he found himself at the empty beach. He collapsed on the sand, panting, as the pain of his lungs temporarily distracted him from his thoughts.

But it didn’t last, and as his breathing evened the events of the disastrous dinner came running back, and all the dread and confusion that came with them. Kodya shook his head, trying to get a grip on himself. So mother had kept another huge, life changing secret from him, so what? It’s not like this was the first time she’d done so. She’d lied about his father until that fisherman had aired that family secret on live TV.

His father, Kodya pulled his knees to his chest. Had he been responsible for this too? Prevented his mother from returning to the sea somehow? Not that Kodya was sure how a bedridden man could do anything to prevent a mermaid or sea witch or whatever else his mother apparently was from going to the sea. Then again, he hadn’t thought a bedridden man could hurt a navy seal, and he’d been wrong.

There was another way he could keep her on land, a dark part of his mind whispered. If she had Kodya, she’d be forced to stay. She could hardly take a half-blood who couldn’t even swim back with her when some faceless elders would supposedly kill him.

And why was it such a big deal anyways? He scowled at the waves. He wished Gyrus were here, so he could ask him. But then again, he pulled his knees closer. If it really was such a bad thing, Gyrus might not want to be around him anymore. Would he go find a new human teacher? He hardly needed Kodya now he had a job working for Alistair. Kodya bit his lip, trying to keep the sudden surge of sadness inside him from spilling into tears.

“Hola mi amigo!” A voice cried, breaking Kodya out of his dark thoughts. He startled, reaching back a hand to catch himself from falling. When he looked up, he saw Don waving at the side of the road, wheelchair brought right up to the pavement. “Are you here to enjoy the beautiful sunset too?”

Kodya blinked, rubbing a quick hand over his eyes, just in case. Don noticed anyways. “Ahh,” he said with a shake of his head. “I know that look. Who broke your heart mi amigo?”

“Nobody,” Kodya scowled, wishing the busybody environmentalist wannabe would just go away. Don however, seemed to have no intention of moving, pulling out a Harmonia from thin air and bringing it to his lips.

The saddest tune Kodya had ever heard washed over him, low and mournful. Kodya wondered distantly how anything so sad could come from a harmonica. As the music continued to play its wordless melody, Kodya got the overwhelming urge to spill all his problems to Don, just to talk to someone about his mother’s secrets and his real feelings for Gyrus. Wait what? Kodya shook his head, embarrassment breaking him out of whatever spell Don’s music had cast.

“Is something wrong?” Don lowered his harmonica, voice concerned. Kodya felt his cheeks heat up, an irrational fear that Don could see inside his mind rising to the surface.

“I’m fine!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, pretending to have a headache, but in reality he was only trying to disguise the red. “I’m just sick of all the lies,” he said to buy himself time, and found to his surprise that it was true.

“Ready to win him back?” Don leaned forward, a gentle smile on his lips. Kodya fought down another blush. Don really, really was harping on this being a lovers dispute.

“I didn’t say I was going to win anyone-” Kodya protested, because he wasn’t, but Don raised his hand to stop him.

“There is no need to be so embarrassed my boy,” Don pulled something from his pocket, “but it just so happens I have something that will solve your problem.”

Kodya eyed the two pieces of paper suspiciously. “I’m not buying a ticket to whatever you're selling.”

Don let out an easy laugh and shook his head. “No mi amigo, this is a gift. To pay back Gyrus for that enlightening conversation we had at Alistair’s shop.”

“Who said this had anything to do with Gyrus,” Kodya grumbled, but took the tickets anyway. At the very least he could pass them on to Gyrus when he apologized for everything that had happened. Join the Movement! was written in bold letters on the ticket. Come to the Rally! He raised an eyebrow at Don. “Self promotion much?”

“I am a politician after all,” Don said, looking completely unabashed. “You take Gyrus on an interesting date that tailors to his interests, I get two more people in my rally. Everyone wins.”

Kodya furrowed his brow, but he couldn’t think of a downside to that deal. Still. While this was all well and good of Gyrus, it would hardly fix his problems with his mother. “I’ll think about it,” he said, tucking the two tickets in his back pocket.

Don smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

“Doooonnn!” Anan’s voice echoed down the street. “Where are you?” Don and Kodya both looked up.

“I’ve got to go,” Don gave Kodya an apologetic smile, before wheeling himself down the path at a brisk pace that seemed rather reckless for a man of his age.

Kodya watched him go hand slipping to his back pocket to finger the tickets tucked safely inside. He still wasn’t sure how Gyrus would respond to the revelation he’d just learned about his mother and himself, but maybe if he invited him out to do something non-threatening, he could bring the word “half-blood” up casually and gage Gyrus’ response. Like a spy gathering information. Maybe he’d be able to learn a bit more about what it meant and why his mother was so upset, so he could understand why she had lied for so long. Maybe he’d even find out that it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared and she’d finally feel comfortable enough to tell him everything. If nothing else, he’d at least be able to take Gyrus out on a fun date.

Yeah. Kodya lifted his head. That didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. Maybe Don really had handed him a solution to his problems. The corner of Kodya’s mouth twitched up. He really wasn’t so bad a guy after all.

#room of swords #mermaid au #merfolk are overrated #gyrus #kodya #ros Nephthys #tori #sylvia #don #kodya's mother #selkies

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pennylanefics · 5 years

Text

proposing

a/n: enjoy :) pic below are the rings :) also, this week is gonna be busy for me, so idk when i’ll be able to post another fic just yet. i’m finally meeting taron this weekend though!!!! i also have a shit ton of homework to do before saturday so i’m gonna take a week break to focus on that. but feel free to send in asks about anything if you wanna, just because!! :)

•••

ben

- “what is all of this?” you wonder as you step inside your shared home with ben. the living room was decorated in fairy lights and there was a fort set up around the tv; a huge fire hazard, but that didn’t matter right now. ben was stood next to it in a nice-looking outfit, turning around when he hears your voice.

“hey, love. you like this?” your head nods at his words, too speechless to say something. he walks over to you and brings you in for a sweet kiss.

“what’s all this for?” you ask once again. ben smiles and pulls you towards the set up.

“thought we could have a nice night together. joe and gwil helped me set up a nice dinner as well.” he brings you into the kitchen where the table is decorated with roses, a candle, a fancy tablecloth, a bottle of wine, and two plates filled with pasta.

“ben…” you are in disbelief. everything looks so beautiful and thought out, you were still wondering what was going on, since this was very out of the ordinary.

“i want you to relax tonight, you deserve it for being the best girlfriend in the world,” he tells you. you give him one more kiss before taking a seat at the table and beginning to eat.

after dinner, ben had yet another surprise for you in the backyard. as you step out onto the patio, you are shocked yet again. just like the living room, it was covered in fairy lights, but one thing that was different was the pictures hanging between the wooden poles. you slowly stroll along the patio, seeing pictures of you and ben from the beginning of your relationship six years ago to just the other day. tears sprung in your eyes as you read the captions he has on some of the polaroids you two take all the time.

just as you reach the wall of the patio, you see a huge section missing with just a single picture in the middle. you step closer to read it: “reserved for our future.” you are a bit confused and turn to ask ben about it, and when you do, you see him down on one knee, with a small black box in his hands. your jaw drops as your hands fly up to your mouth, your tears finally falling as you put everything together.

“i love you so much, (y/n). and these past six years have been so amazing, and i honestly cannot imagine spending my life with anyone else. so, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he opens the box to reveal a beautiful oval ring, twinkling under the lights.

“y-yes,” you choke out. ben smiles widely and stands back up, bringing you into his arms and holding you close. you could feel that he was shaking slightly, so you pull back and cup his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

“you’re shaking, bub.” he nods nervously and stares down at the box still in his quivering hands. you rest your own on his, rubbing your thumb over the backs of his hands. he releases your grip moments later and plucks the ring from the box. taking ahold of your left hand, he slowly slides the glimmering ring onto your finger, where he sets it in place.

“perfect fit for my princess,” he murmurs against your forehead as you stare down at it, a huge grin is permanently plastered on your lips.

“i love you,” ben whispers, making you look up into his eyes.

“i love you too, ben. always.” you lean forward to kiss him.

“always.”

peter

- moving to New Zealand with Peter has been quite the experience. it was obviously very different from London, but still amazing and beautiful. you were slowly getting used to the way things are here, and you were ready to spend every single day with peter, with no interruptions from his dad or your mom.

“hey, do you wanna go to the beach?” peter asks you one afternoon. you two had been sitting in your new home all day, continuing to organize things and put everything away.

“yeah, i could really use a break,” you respond, grabbing a pair of flip flops from the closet. peter did the same and walked with you out to the car. the ride to the beach was a little longer than you expected, but once you arrived, you felt every anxious and fearful feeling disappear; this is where you live now, and you could never be happier.

you and peter began to walk along the shoreline, holding your shoes in your hands as your toes sink into the sand. peter had your hand enclosed in his, swinging it back and forth slightly like a little kid. conversation was light, as you enjoyed the cool breeze and the setting sun. suddenly, peter pauses, confusing you as you came to a halt as well.

“peter?” what’s the matter?” you ask. he smiles and admires you for a moment.

“you look like an angel,” he breathes out quietly, eyes roaming over your face, your hair blowing in the wind. you grinned back at him and stroke his cheek softly. he surprises you again when he kneels down and pulls out a box from his pocket.

“peter?”

“i’ve loved you since the day i met you. i knew from that moment at the vic, that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. and i don’t know if you feel the same, but i’m hoping you do,” he laughs lightly, trying to suppress the tears in his eyes.

“will you marry me, (y/n)?” he opens the box to reveal a very unique and gorgeous ring. tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you muster a nod in response. peter’s smile widens as you cup his cheeks and lean down to kiss him. when he pulls back, he takes the ring from the box and slides it onto your finger.

“it’s absolutely beautiful, peter,” you say as you examine it. peter stands back up and brings you in for a hug.

“you’re beautiful as well, love. can’t wait to wake up to you every single day for the rest of our lives. and make a baby with you, because let’s face it, we’d have the cutest fucking babies.”

warren

- it was around twelve-thirty in the morning when you awoke to a knock on your door. you wondered who it could be at this time in the night, which made you a little reluctant to open it. but, you were happy to see your boyfriend warren standing on the other side. he had a suspicious look on his face, along with a small smile.

“what is it, war? it’s nearly one in the morning,” you groan unhappily. you like to sleep, so when it’s interrupted, you are never happy.

“i have a little surprise for you,” he tells you, swaying back and forth on his heels. you eyed him suspiciously and go to grab a jacket, when he stops you.

“i brought you my hoodie. i know you love wearing them.” your heart soars at the simple yet sweet gesture. you grab the item he was holding out for you and slip it on, shutting your door after putting your shoes on.

“so, where are we off to?” you wonder, holding warren’s hand as he guides you out of the dorms. he shakes his head in response, not giving anything away just yet. but when you realize he’s taking you to the lake on campus, you were confused. it was cold, but not too cold, and the breeze running over the lake didn’t help any. when you arrive at the spot he had set up, you were in awe. he had made a little picnic for you two, including a basket filled with snacks, a blanket for you to lay on, and a second blanket to shield you from the wind.

“what’s all this, warren?” he smiles and motions for you to sit next to him.

“i wanted to do something for you after the week you had. i know you’ve been stressing over training and homework, so i thought a picnic at night, with no one else around, staring up at the stars would be a good idea,” he explains, pulling all of your favorite snacks from the basket. he laid them out and you two began to dig in, opening bags of chips and unwrapping pieces of mini chocolate bars. after almost all of the goodies were gone, Warren shoved the remaining amount back into the basket and pulled you into his arms. you threw the blanket over your bodies and cuddled into his chest, staring up at the night sky.

“it’s absolutely beautiful out here. no city lights disturbing the universe, the moon reflecting on the water, and my amazing boyfriend sat right next to me.” warren’s chest rumbles with laugher, but he suddenly grows serious.

“i don’t like being your boyfriend anymore,” he tells you quietly. immediately, you are up from his chest and gazing down at him in confusion.

“what?” he smiles and sits up with you, reaching into his sweatpants pocket and retrieving a lone ring.

“i wanna be your husband. will you marry me?” he simply asks, holding the ring out towards you. your eyes dart from the ring to warren’s eyes, trying to figure out what is happening right now.

“yes, i will,” you stutter out, tears beginning to fall from your eyes. warren’s smile widens as he hears your answer and he pulls you into a hug, the force of it causing the both of you to fall back. your laughter filled the air, your faces close together as you lean down to kiss him.

“i love you, warren. i can’t wait to marry you,” you whisper against his lips. he grins before kissing you once more.

“i can’t wait either, love.”

walter

- walter had been at limmerage for almost a year now. unfortunately, you couldn’t stay with him, so you were stuck back at home. but, one day, walter came back and told you that the fairlies and marian are gone for the week, and he would love to show you around. so that’s where you found yourself.

you and walter sat in the carriage, soon arriving at the large and beautiful castle that he works at.

“how has the painting been going?” you wonder, turning towards him as the carriage begins to slow down.

“it has been great. mr. fairlie’s collection is slowly being restored, and marian and laura are picking up painting very quickly. they are already amazing artists,” he tells you as the carriage comes to a stop. a man in uniform greets you and walter, guiding you into the castle and up to walter’s room. he tells you that your bags will be here shortly. but in the meantime, walter has a different idea.

“i want to show you around.” he pulls you out of the room and to the garden in the back, where there was a beautiful fountain, rose bushes all over, and flowers blooming everywhere.

“it’s so beautiful out here, walter,” you say, turning around as you take everything in. walter is just standing to the side, watching you in adoration. he reaches his hand out, which you gladly take, walking you both over to the gazebo, hidden behind the hedges. you step in and see a variety of paintings of you; some you recognize, some you don’t. walter lets you look at all of them before stepping in the confined area with you.

“i cannot believe i am lucky enough to be with you. and i want to be with you for the rest of my life,” he begins, taking a ring out from his suit pocket and grabbing onto your left hand.

“will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” you stare at him in shock that this is happening.

“of course i will, walter. i love you so much.” he grins widely and brings you in for a huge hug and kiss.

“and i love you, my darling.”

•••

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