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my-brothers-corrupted · 3 years

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Chapter Four - Part 4

The boys try to relax after meeting Dark, but Dapper is ticked off at Anti and there is still tension between Trickshot and Dok.

Tws for alcohol, images of dead bodies, and mentions of torture.

Part 4 - Dark's Memory

“Oh, but Dok, I’m tiredddddd.”

He draws it out like a kid who doesn’t want to do his chores, slipping down into the water until it reaches up to his chin, pouting against the waves of the pool. Dok grins at him and reaches out to snag his hand, leading him around in circles against the wall.

“Come on, my friend. Can’t be sitting around all day even if you’re tired.”

“Help me float?” asks Blue, getting up again and turning his back to Dok.

“Okay, if you want.”

He puts his hand against Blue’s back. Blue lies down against the water and lets Dok steady him, til he’s just resting on the surface of the water, drifting.

“No sleeping though,” says Dok, and Blue laughs. They both wear their shirts in the water. Dok itches at his chest. Through the kitchen window, you can see Trick cooking, and Red sits a few feet away from them, watching the forest and tap-tap-tapping his foot. Dok told him he should do something other than stand guard all day, but he hasn’t thought of anything yet.

pine-storm-season asked: Hello! How are you all doing?

Red looks up and smiles at you. “Aw, been better, but you know. It’s okay.”

He glances over at Dok and Blue. “Getting really worried about Blue after how he was acting last night, but sun comes up and he wakes up and seems okay again. A little nausea this morning. I asked him if he was pregnant. He said that would be more fun than this.”

Red grins and kicks his feet. “He’s grumpy about it, but I just hope he keeps trying to stay up. I don’t blame him for being unhappy. I think, um. He really needs more help than he’s getting. But I don’t know how to get him it. Which is frustrating. I’m not really in charge right now, but I’m still big brother. I’m supposed to be looking after them. And I can’t.”

He shrugs. “But I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep the monster away if I can.”

He still has that kitchen knife, sitting on the grass beside him. He itches at the bandaid on his broken nose.

“How are you?”

Anonymous asked: Whatcha cooking, trick? Breakfast?

“Lunch, technically!”

He stirs enthusiastically at a pan full of ground beef, tomatoes, carrots, onions, and peas. “Making kima. Trying to use the perishables first. So we don’t have to get hungry just cause all the food goes bad. The fridge is really full! Hey, do you know what prosciutto is? There’s a ton in there, but I don’t wanna give Dok ham.”

Anonymous asked: (Chill scenes are totally cool! And I love reading anything you write so it's awesome) But hey! Pool time sounds like it could be fun and/or relaxing. And it could be good for Blue's (or any of yalls) health. -Pink

“Just don’t tell Dap we’re outside,” sighs Blue, standing up and running his hands through his hair. After a few weeks since he shaved it down to white, it’s beginning to grow out again, just a little, and he savors the growing strands. “He won’t stop talking about that thing in our yard. He says he won’t come into the house’s territory, but he wanted us to spend all day hiding. But we figured it already knows we’re here.”

He shrugs and looks back at Dok just in time to get splashed in the face by a sweep of Dok’s arm through the water. He gasps and slaps the water in front of him, sending it spraying up into Dok’s face. He laughs and retreats, cutting water with his hands as he backs away.

“Ass,” gripes Blue, smiling as he follows after him.

Anonymous asked: where is dap, if you don't mind me asking? is he upstairs?

“No, he’s hiding from Anti,” says Dok. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Anti’s so pissed at him he only looked for him once,” adds Blue. “He found him in the top cupboard of the pantry behind the juice-boxes and tried to drag him back upstairs, but Dapper wouldn’t stop throwing a fit, and Anti got so irritated he left before - to quote Anti - he pulled him apart tooth by tooth. You might be able to find him on the cameras if you try since Anti’s stopped coming for him. I hope that he’ll come when Trick has lunch. He eats like a shrew. A dieting shrew.”

“I need to have him out here exercising too,” sighs Dok. “He never get out of his little room most of the time.”

Anonymous asked: It's basically fancy italian ham, so says Google. Maybe Noodle and the rest of you would like it but yeah not the best choice for dok

“Noodle! Come here, baby!”

Trick kisses for his cat til he comes and gets him a slice of prosciutto. Noodle is delighted.

“You’re getting so big,” says Trick, petting his back. He’s a very long cat and getting longer, leggy and thin, still golden as the day he was born.

Anonymous asked: Red maybe you should take up drawing or coloring, just something to do with your hands. I know you have a lot worrying you but maybe it will help you de-stress and focus? I find it helps me anyway. A hobby might be good for you right now

Red nods, considering it. Yeah. He stands up. Sits down again. Stands up. Sits down.

He puts his chin in his hand and sighs, kicking at the grass.

“I haven’t… I don’t really have hobbies, ha. Usually I’m the one with the money for the month, you know, so I have to be thinking about food and entertainment and shit in one handful of cash. And when I do get entertainment stuff, it’s for Dap cause he’s alone in his room, or sometimes for the twins if Dok’s having to cut people up or Trick’s depressed and they need something to take their minds off it. Cause that’s what it is, yeah? Entertainment, it’s a need. In those cases at least. And if it’s not a need I don’t get it. That’s the rule. That’s how you stop your brothers from starving.”

He stands up again, staring out at the forest. “But now I guess I can go draw if I want, and it won’t be wrong. Cause it would have been wrong, yeah? To buy paper and pencils for myself. Dapper would need them more or we would need shit to eat more. And now we’re in this nice place after Dap and I about starved in Colombia and I’m just supposed to act like this is our normal and to do whatever I want. I don’t know how to do whatever I want. And I don’t want… I don’t want Anti to pretend this is our normal. Cause it isn’t. I been hungry too many times to let him try to tell me that.”

He pauses, shrugging. “Sorry, I went off. I do want to go find something to do. I wish I had something to color, that sounds fun. I could go look for books or something with black and white pictures. And art shit. I don’t know if there’s any here.”

Anonymous asked: hey, dap? how are you doing?

For a second, there is no sign of him - or not of him moving, anyway. He seems to have shucked off everything he didn’t want to wear as he ran, his tight black dress shoes discarded in the hallway, his clean white dress shirt dangling off the coat hook. There are cuff-links waiting to be stepped on. He may or may not be wearing pants.

But in the office with the grand brown desk and the high, glass-covered shelf full of alcohol in progressively fancy bottles, a slight motion alerts you to an irritated, red-rimmed eye peering slowly out from the side of the desk to check on the beeping noise from the camera - and then, just as quickly, ducking out of sight again.

Anonymous asked: hello, dap! is something wrong?

Liquid sloshes. Dapper glances back at you again, his mouth miserably down-turned and his eyes angry. He hides away again for a few minutes. He’s sick of Anti looking at him all the time.

“I hate Dark,” he spits finally, adjusting a little so you can see him. He’s got a blanket on and all his stuffed animals arranged beneath it around his legs. His pencils are scattered beneath the desk, his sketchpad covered in meaningless circles of colors he can’t tell the difference between. He throws back a bottle of Jameson and drinks deep and hateful. “I hate Anti for bringing us here. I want him to go away!” He coughs as the whiskey burns.

Anonymous asked: Ah... why are your clothes on the floor Dap?

“I don’t want to wear all this stupid shit he puts me in,” he signs. “I don’t want to be cute and perfect, I’m not his perfect little pet thing, not his dog to dress up in a tutu, not cute all the time, sometimes I want to be a man, or I at least want him to know I’m a man, not treat me like a little boy. I only want to dress up when I want to dress up and I don’t want any more stupid little kid hoodies or dumb socks unless I pick the dumb socks. I, I, me!”

He shakes his head, distress creasing through his anger, and he drinks like he’s got something to prove, his face red with crying and alcohol.

“Stupid baby stuck in my fucking crib all day.”

He sobs and then strikes the side of the desk, gritting his teeth. “Stupid little boy never runs from his dad.”

Anonymous asked: anti's not here right now, though. do you want to go be with your brothers for the time being? anti isn't here to be able to do anything to any of you.

“He shouted at me all morning, he’s angry,” grouses Dapper, flicking his golden Christmas knife up and down in his hand. “He said he’ll tie me up upside down until the blood rushes back into my head and makes me stop acting stupid; I said if he tries to make me stay in that room again I’ll bite his ear off in his sleep; he slapped me til I cried.”

His ear is bruised purple on the right and there are nail marks around his wrists. He shivers and curls in on himself, bitter and tired, scratching at a hippo stuffie with textured fur.

“I don’t want to go where everybody’s staring at me, I don’t want to go where Dark can see me, I don’t want to…”

Anonymous asked: Huh boy. Would you mind some drinking buddies? We don't have booze but I can act like a conversational bartender that takes all your problems and sound then into advice. Can't guarantee it'll fix things but we're listening

“That was most of my rant unless you get me started again,” says Dapper wearily, slumping back against the desk so his head disappears and you just see his skinny chest and legs poking out. The thought of it is funny and you hear him giggle, flipping over on his side to hide his face in his blankets.

“I’m sad. Comfort me, Panchito.”

He draws his stuffed Peruvian bear to his mouth for a kiss. It’s hard to tell if that’s his dry sarcasm again or not. He might just be drunk.

“My heart hurts.”

Anonymous asked: How much did you drink so far? Not too much to be dangerous for you I hope

He huffs out a tired sigh and shows you the bottle. There’s more than half of it left.

“You’re going to babysit me too? Not eighteen yet? Just because I don’t age. I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t ask to watch everybody else get older around me while I still look so much younger. I didn’t ask for everybody to make me the baby. What’s wrong with being quiet and nice and cute sometimes? I still want my brother to respect me. I’m not little… I’m mute and I’m psychotic and I like being nice and wearing jumpers and sleeping with a bear. That doesn’t mean I’m not a grown-up. I am a grown-up and I’m clever and tough and I want things. I want to make choices. I’m not five. Not. And if I had got to make a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen to come back to be toyed with by somebody who hurt me.”

His face scrunches up like he might cry, but he doesn’t. He rubs at his ruddy cheeks.

“But I still never go away… so maybe I’m just all talk. Just his baby brother.”

He stares down at the gold of the alcohol.

Anonymous asked: okay, that's fair, dap. do you want us to ask one of them to come be with you here instead? it might make you feel better to have someone like blue with you instead of being alone.

“I don’t want to get scolded,” his hands confess. “I know I’m being stupid. No one else has to share my stupid with me. I know I’m being grouchy and negative and unhappy. I know. They don’t have to put up with me while I’m like this.”

He is very small beneath the largeness of the empty office.

“Even Anti doesn’t put up with me when I’m being a brat, and I’m supposed to be his. Everybody likes me better when I’m smiling and put together. He always just leaves and comes back when I’m too tired or when I’m done sulking. That’s what he thinks he can do this time, just wait for me to decide it’s not worth it. And I always do. I always let it go. Because I know he doesn’t care, so why fight about it? Things are worse when he’s mad at me. But he really hurt me yesterday. That’s worse than when he used to smack me around all the time, before I snapped and he realized how scared he used to make me.”

nikkilbook asked: Red, what if you go find Dap and ask him to draw with you? Let you keep each other company while you do something for you.

“Where he at, though?” asks Red, ducking into the house. “Dap?”

No answer from the wide halls. He trails through the house looking for him.

Anonymous asked: If you want to be mad, J, be mad! Be drunk! These are your decisions and your emotions so express them. We want you to be safe but if you trust your judgement to drink responsibly by yourself, go for it, my guy.

“Be mad, be drunk,” he repeats a little more enthusiastically. After a moment he lowers his bottle and sighs.

“I am not being responsible, though. You are right. I don’t want my brothers to think I’m trying to hurt myself again.”

He sets the bottle gently aside, at least for a few minutes.

Anonymous asked: i don't think they'll mind much, dap. anti cares more about control than love, but the others don't. everyone has unhappy days, especially people in bad situations. we don't have to ask, and they don't have to agree, but we'll ask if you think it would make you feel better, okay? we can ask them not to scold you or anything too.

“He is my heart,” says Dapper cryptically, holding his knees to his chest. “That’s the rope he makes me wear.”

He turns at the sound of someone calling for him. He puts his head against his knees, mouth pursed, but after a moment, he tells you, “They can come see me if they want. But they can go, too, if they want. I have never been there for any of them, truth be told. Not for a long time, anyway. And even then, wasn’t I always just the needy little victim…”

He’s spiraling, his eyes getting dark. He covers his face with his hands.

Anonymous asked: i think they'll be happy to see you, dap. red's looking for you, he wants to know how you're doing. do you want us tell him where you are?

“I think it would be okay. I don’t want him to be disappointed in me.”

He stares down at the floorboards.

“There was a while when Dok and Trick first broke when none of my brothers knew anything about me, just my name and that Anti loved me better than them. I couldn’t talk to them and I couldn’t see them, but I would hear them through the walls and pretend they loved me too. It was lonelier having them in the house than when it was just me and Anti. But even when I felt totally… just… unloved, even when he didn’t even know me, Red would sometimes buy presents for me and leave them outside my door. And it was like there was a little remnant of what we had that was still alive. Or like even if he didn’t even know me, he still would be my brother and look after me however he could.”

He blinks. “I’m rambling again. I am drunk. I don’t want him to have loved me better before he knew me than now, when he’s beginning to see who I am, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, you are one of the bravest, strongest, most downright terrifyingly intelligent men i have ever seen. And heck, im a grown up. I still sleep with my stuffed animals! And I color just to color and i eat candy for breakfast from time to time. I watch cartoons and i cry and I do all sorts of things. But im still an adult, and yes, you are too. You are strong, and you'll get through this. -Pink

“Yes, I’m terrifying,” agrees Dapper, nodding his head, determined to believe it. “I’ve killed, like, a lot of people.”

He pauses, touches his mouth, scrunches up his face in thought.

“I guess that is the opposite side of the spectrum. In terms of being taken seriously, I want to be somewhere between Strawberry Shortcake and unattended luggage in an American airport, thank you.”

nikkilbook asked: Room with a desk and alcohol, Red.

Red turns towards the right side of the house, shooting you a confused look at half of Dapper’s clothes scattered around the hallway. He pushes on and into the office, stopping short in the doorway.

Dapper stares back at him with wide eyes and a trembling frown, wiping at his face and clutching his bear to his stomach. The Jameson shudders on the floor nearby, drained by a couple glasses. Red blinks.

He sighs through his nose and then moves to sit down beside Dapper, squishing himself into the space beneath the desk at his side. Dapper sniffles and looks anywhere but Red’s eyes, downcast and humiliated.

“Okay,” says Red, making himself comfy. “Give me that.”

Dapper startles and turns to him. He glances between Red and the bottle, blinking.

“Yeah, come on!”

Dapper lets a sigh drift out of him, disappointed. He is just the little kid of the family. He turns the bottle over to his brother.

“Yeah, that’s right,” says Red. “No fucking drinking alone.”

He tilts the bottle back and drinks. Dapper laughs, turning towards him, clasping his hands together over his heart.

“Red,” he signs, giggling.

“Fuck, that burns!” spits Red, shaking his head and his hands. “That’s nasty!”

“Can’t handle it?” teases Dapper, scooting closer to him, delighted.

“Hey, I haven’t had a drink in a long time, okay?”

“Chug, chug, chug, chug - ”

“Don’t even start!”

Red and Dap laugh, huddled over the alcohol and the stuffies, squished together beneath the desk. Dapper clasps his hand through the blanket, leaning forward to set his head down against his shoulder.

Anonymous asked: How's the liquor Red? Bad? Well probably not since this was a rich dude's stash but the difference between expensive and cheap probably doesn't matter for someone's whose goal is to get drunk

“That is correct, for one,” coughs Red. “And also I know jack-shit about alcohol, unfortunately.”

“It’s good!” says Dapper. “It’s really good.”

“Babe, it’s nasty.”

Dapper laughs. “You can’t tell.”

“I can’t tell. All alcohol is disgusting. I mean I just - I don’t get the appeal. If it’s not like the fruity ones that actually taste nice? It’s nasty. I have never find an alcohol I want more than just, like, a nice orange soda.”

“Do you guys want lunch?” hollers Trick from the other side of the house.

Anonymous asked: Get one of ur brothers to bring the food up like a delivery boy lol

“Heyyyy,” hollers Red down the hallway. “Bring me food!”

“No,” shouts back Dok.

“What does he want?”

“Someone to bring him food.”

“No!”

“Blue, you’re supposed to be my twin!”

“I’m sick! You should be bringing food to me, if anything! Aw, look, Trick’s got me a plate already. That’s why he’s my favorite.”

“Hey!”

“All of you shut the fuck up!” shouts Anti.

Just to piss him off, Dapper stands up and sticks his fingers in his mouth, whistling as loud as he can until Red leaps up and makes his stop, laughing and horrified at the same time. “You are one dumb, bold, black and white firecracker, little brother.”

“Guess that’s why we get along,” answers Dap.

Anonymous asked: damn, orange soda!! that is the best soda, you are an individual of refined taste, red. in terms of lunch, trick's making kima - Indian dish with veggies and beef, basically - it looks p good. are y'all gonna want any?

“I want kima. Come on, bud.”

“There’s the monster in the forest.”

“They’re not going to snatch you while I’m here, bud.”

“You don’t know that,” answers Dapper wearily, but he lets Red lead him towards the hall.

aether-mae asked: Y’all need to eat, and also drink some water or you’ll get hangovers. *paps both ur heads* stay safe kids

“Yes, we do,” agrees Red fondly, pulling him down the hall. “Come on, so. Hey! Whoa, man. How drunk are you?”

Dapper has crashed into his chest, blinking fast. “Dizzy,” he signs.

“You shouldn’t have had that much.”

“I didn’t!”

“Let’s just get you some food and water, okay? You’ll feel better.”

He leads him into the kitchen and then decides against sitting him down at the island, turning to leave him beside Blue on the couch. Dapper sways dizzily, rubbing at his head.

“Hey, my darling, what’s wrong?” asks Blue, reaching out for him. “Dok, come here.”

“He’s okay,” Red insists. “He just, uh. Got into the liquor!”

“Hey!” cries Dok, anger and alarm slicing through his face. “Hey, why! Why would you do that?”

“Dok, come on,” Red protests.

“No, don’t ‘come on’ me! Alcoholism runs in our family and he had a suicide attempt this month. Not to mention Haldol interacts with alcohol! You’ll be dizzy all day.”

Dapper shakes his head, staring up at Dok with big blue eyes. He didn’t know that.

“Don’t give the doctor puppy eyes! It’s stupid, Dap! You want to get to drinking everyday, huh? You want a fun hangover so someone has to look after you? You want to be drunk all the time and then I can’t get you to wake up and it’s four in the morning and I told you to stop, I told you not to have so much, I keep telling you - !”

“Dok!” Trick cuts him off.

Dok stops, closing his eyes.

Trick’s face is guilty and drawn in the kitchen. He turns heavily back to his cooking, dishing meat and veggies onto flatbread.

immabethehero asked: Ooh what are you having???

“We are having kima,” says Trick wearily. “It’s meat and vegatables with paprika and curry powder. You put it on flatbread.”

Everyone’s gone mostly quiet, Red shuffling his feet against the carpet. Blue lets his head fall against Dapper’s shoulder. “I’m taking a nap, good night.”

Dapper presses his head against Blue’s. Trick brushes his hand against Dok’s back as he passes his brother, still standing in the middle of the room, scowling down at the floor.

Anonymous asked: Liquor on an empty stomach leads to a nasty hangover. Go get yall some lunch! And drink some water too. Please and thank you!

“Yes, eat,” insists Dok with a sigh, taking a plate from Trick and giving it to Dapper. “So you’re not sick. Can’t be drinking without food. And water. I’ll get you a bottle if I can find one.”

He goes digging around for a water bottle in the kitchen while Trick passes out food. He slices up a huge white peach and gives everybody a sweet, thick slice as footsteps come down the stairs and Anti appears on the banister, staring moodily down at them. Red and black burns disappear into his shirt from his shoulders and neck, but he doesn’t flinch or whimper, just scowls.

Dapper is tense. Dok tries to ignore their brother as he brings him a water bottle clinking with ice, sitting cautiously down beside Blue and Dapper. Red hovers in front of them, folding his kima into a taco and taking a bite in a pretty good semblance of normality.

“It’s good, Trick.”

“Don’t have to sound surprised.”

“Thanks for cooking.”

“Course.”

immabethehero asked: You know what you should try? Red Lobster cheddar biscuits. They’re from America and they’re delicious!

Everyone glances at the camera. “Uh, yeah,” says Trick. “Those sound good. I’d have to have a way to look the recipe up. But I can make good biscuits. Better than KFC, seriously.”

“I think maybe Blue did actually fall asleep on me,” says Dapper uncertainly, trying not to move too much.

Red sits down beside his brother and props up the plate of kima on his twin’s thighs, just in case he spills, taking enthusiastic bites of his lunch. “You’ll let him stay with us again tonight, yeah, Anti? He’s so tired. You don’t want to wear a body like this right now anyway, right?”

Anti shrugs, his eyes flickering. He turns away, playing with his knife, glancing back up the stairs.

Anonymous asked: Laying it on a little thick there, Dok. I understand you're upset but you don't need to reprimand him in front of everyone, least of all Trick. Taking care of others mistakes that they knowingly make can be hard, but harsh words won't improve things.

Dok raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Trick sighs, shaking out his head.

“Let Dok have his reaction and Dok will let Dapper have his,” he says. “He already backed off. I don’t need to be coddled like I can’t handle the consequences of the choices I’ve made. But thank you.”

cest-mellow asked: you guys should have a pool party ! take your mind of all the stress, dark shouldnt come to your house territory anyway right..?

“Yes, right,” says Red, watching out of the corner of his eye as Anti decides to head back upstairs, stomping with every step. He’s gotten used to watching for Anti’s warning signs with his other siblings, but he has no idea how his brother will react to Dapper resisting like this. He’s never seen the two of them fight in front of the others, and he’s never seen Dapper quite this mad at him. Any of his other siblings could have lost fingers for the things Dapper’s done in the past twenty-four hours. Red shivers and shakes the thought off. “Yeah, Anti says Dark won’t come into the boundaries of the house, whatever that means. And if they show up in the yard again, I’ll fucking take a knife to them, swear by it!”

“Don’t talk like that,” mumbles Blue, rubbing at his eyes. “They’re not something you should mess with, I don’t think.”

“Well, I think we should go outside and sit around the pool, anyway,” says Red, reaching out to start tugging on pants legs - oh, Dapper is wearing slacks after all. Red grins up at his siblings. “Come on, come on! Need some sun!”

“We were just in Peru!”

“And still so pasty white!”

They end up sitting around the pool, Trick and Dok side-by-side at the far end, kicking their legs in the water and making sure the other eats enough while Dapper sinks down into the water like a tiger on the hunt, warm in the water. Red sits Blue down in the pool chairs at the side and they take a moment to look at each other, mimicking each other’s expressions as a game until Red makes a face so stupid Blue snorts with laughter and breaks character, sitting back in his chair, smiling in the sun.

aether-mae asked: Y’all keep an eye on Dap while he’s in the pool in case he’s still dizzy

“Good idea,” agrees Dok.

Dapper puts a hand to his forehead and faints dramatically, slumping back into the water. Red actually does leap up to his feet before Dapper surfaces again, grinning.

“Not funny, Dapper!”

“Dapper, that’s not funny!”

“Carver! Don’t!”

He giggles under the weight of their disapproval and they seem to roll their eyes at him as a collective, smiles flickering on their mouths.

Anonymous asked: Ah the facade of normality, so sweet yet so frail

Red and Blue glance over at you, eyebrows shooting up. Blue doesn’t seem to appreciate the message; Red looks a little unnerved.

“Don’t be weird,” grumbles Blue, turning back to his family.

“That’s my job,” says Red, kneading his hands together. “To make things feel normal when they’re not. Or safe when they’re not. Or okay when they’re not. I - ”

Blue puts a hand on his knee. “It was a weird message,” he says, squeezing his knee. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

Red nods, turning his attention back to him.

“Hey, will you go get me more water?” asks Blue.

Red is happy to do so. He gets up, taking their cups with him.

It is then that your screen changes in a way it has never glitched, fizzled, or blacked out before.

Someone has taken an Illumination effect to your screens and turned the color all the way down, down, leaving everything monochrome and night-struck, casting them all into shadow. Blue sips at his water as Red returns and you see something smoky and liquid fill up the glass as he puts it against his mouth. In his chair, Red tilts slowly back, until his body is stiff and unmoving against the back of the chair. Dapper is not rising from the pool. Dok and Trick have fallen asleep against each other, and their faces, as you watch, grow more and more hollow. The skin tears on their grey cheeks and white bones glimmer in the dead light of the sun as the color of the pool darkens and darkens and darkens. Blood drips from Blue’s mouth as his eyes flicker and close.

“But you know the truth, don’t you?” comes a cold, drawling voice, deep enough to drown in. “It is just a face - sweet as honey. Frail as mortal bone.”

There is an echo to the voice, not layered like Anti’s, but repeating after it, sometimes changing the way they said it.

“Frail as mortal bone…” it whispers.

“I suppose he put you up to this. You always do whatever he tells you. Play any game he gives you. His loyal, naive little followers. But it doesn’t much matter,” shrugs Dark, flickering into view, blue and red, at the edge of the forest, standing on a cane. They do not appear to you the way they appeared to Anti. Gone is the rot, the decay, the death of them. They are upright and beautiful, with black eyes that glitter like the stomach of the night sky. Black hair curls neatly around their ears and eyes. They are dressed neater even than Dapper, a suit perfectly tailored along the fine curves of their strong body.

They look harmless, respectable, attractive. They are smiling at you.

“I like playing games, you see, with anyone other than him. He’s not here right now,” their voice drawls, low and whispered, as though to make you lean closer to your screen. “So I have a proposition for you, old friend.”

“I have a proposition for you, old friend,” spits the echo.

“It looks like you’ve been watching these poor pets a long time. Attached, are you? I can see glimpses, here and there… illness, torture, sickness in their minds… does it just kill you to watch them being hurt again and again, never getting away?”

“Never getting away? Trapped? Does it just kill you…”

“Bring one of them to me,” says Dark, smiling broadly at you. Their teeth are white like a snake’s. “Bring all of them to me, if you want. And I’ll be kind. I promise. They can rest a while. I have people who can give them anything they want.”

“Anything they want.”

“And no one will hurt them while they’re with me.”

“While they’re with us.”

“But if you don’t… I have more creative ways to bring them with me.”

They smile at you, dark eyes flashing. At the poolside, Red is on the ground, unmoving. Dok and Trick’s chests bleed as twins. Dapper seems to be glitching, thrashing with drowning one moment, still the next, thrashing, still, thrashing, still.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Dark whispers.

They wink. They disappear.

“Thank you, Gigi,” you hear faintly, and then it is all over.

Your screens are normal again. It is a sunny, beautiful day. The boys are unharmed, Dapper chasing a tiny frog around the side of the pool while Red and Blue split another peach and Dok and Trick splash water at each other, laughing. A bird calls, overhead. Everyone is fine.

pine-storm-season asked: Cameras went weird for a moment, was that just for us? It's probably not anything important, I'm just curious if you guys noticed anything about it too.

“Cameras went weird?”

Red turns to pick up a handheld, turning it in circles as he examines it.

“Looks fine,” says Blue.

“Yeah, I don’t know. We weren’t paying close attention, though.”

Anonymous asked: The boys might not have noticed that... "thing", but did Anti also see it?

Anti shoots you a look from his bed, where he’s sitting with about six computers surrounding him or perched on his lap. “I don’t know what the hell you assholes are talking about, but nothing happened in my systems. If something happened, it went through your end of the system, so sucks to be you if you have a virus other than me, but I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine. He looks pissed off and exhausted and unhappy. But that’s probably unrelated.

Anonymous asked: Uh Anti should you really just be going sucks to be us considering that the one who sort of appeared to us seems to be threatening your boys...

Anti stares at you for a moment. Then he bursts into laughter, incredulous. “Yeah, I reckon they fucking did! I was the one who invited them to play this game, you know that right? Fuck. Obviously they threatened them, I told them to try and goddamn kidnap them! Oh, goodness… sometimes I wonder about the lot of you.”

Anonymous asked: So what's your plan here then, Anti? Wouldn't you want to keep them safe from other stuff??

“I thought I explained. I never understand why humans don’t understand when I explain things. I don’t understand what they don’t understand.” He pounds on his keyboard as he types, frowning. “I told you this is someone I… trust. I mean, it’s Dark. They’re my… they wouldn’t hurt my pets. We’re just playing games, that’s all. Dark knows me. I know Dark.”

cest-mellow asked: why would you want dark to kidnap the boys, anti? what happens if they succeed?

“If they snag one of them, they can have Dap for a little while,” says Anti, grinning. “That was the deal we made in the forest. But if not, they’ll help me like I want them to. And that’s the thing, really - even if they do win, I bet they’ll still help me do what I want. Just might have to make up for it in… other ways.”

His smile only grows. He glances out the window like he’s waiting to see Dark again, swaying slightly on the bed.

Anonymous asked: Doesn't it worry you that they know about the cameras and can show us things that you can't see? You don't see that going sideways?

“Fucking Gigi! I’ll kill him! He got into my cameras?”

He leaps to his feet and stands at the window, peering out at the forest, beaming. “Fuck, I knew that little cheat would ask the others for help. Well, doesn’t matter. Gigi may be a force to be reckoned with, but I bet Red can out-hack him. I’ll get him a computer.”

Anti turns back to you, a fang poking out of his mouth. “Besides, I don’t care what they show you. There’s nothing you can do about any of this.”

bupine asked: what other ways, anti? hopefully not something like sacrificing another brother. trick wouldn't like that, would he?

Anti snorts. “Oh, fuck… no. You misunderstand. I meant… other things. But I assume some of you are minors, so I won’t go into detail.“

Anonymous asked: I volunteer Trick

Trick blinks, huddling down at Dok’s side. “Hey! What am I being volunteered for? Guys? Ha, Dok, they’re Hunger Games-ing me. You gotta be my Katniss.”

Dok doesn’t look back at him. His eyes are fixed on the doorway to Trick and Red’s room.

“Dok,” Trick insists, pushing at his shoulders. “Hey, the cameras are talking, you like that. Did you float away on me again?”

Dok shakes his head, turning back to his twin for a moment. “What? Oh, no. I’m here.”

“You’re jumpy all day,” whispers Trick, nuzzling his head down against his shoulder.

“It’s past eight,” says Dok. “Anti should have come to get Blue and Dapper and I. But he hasn’t.”

“He’s just having a hard couple days. Let him rest. It’s okay.”

Dok just stares at the door.

The night has come quietly. He is not the only one who’s tense. Red and Dapper are huddled on the windowsill signing and whispering, Blue laid sleepily across Red’s lap, though his keen blue eyes, at the sound of Trick and Dok speaking, turn and fix on you.

Anonymous asked: Blue, you doing okay?

Red and Dapper pause to look at their sibling and Blue sits up, waving their concern away. “Getting into bed,” he mumbles.

“Okay,” Red answers him, reaching out to pull his head in for a kiss.

Blue crawls into bed, carrying a handheld with him. His eyes shift around the room in warning.

“I thought Anti would come back and make us go upstairs with us, but he’s left us alone. That means he’s planning something. It’ll be worse than just dragging us up the stairs or knocking our heads against sinks until we stop fighting.”

He sighs, deep and hurting.

“I don’t know how to protect them from it. Any of them. Even if he doesn’t touch Trick, he gets his trauma secondhand from watching the rest of us get beat and then it’s all buried under this veneer of amnesia and fake love. Even if he doesn’t touch Dapper, he’ll shove him back into a headspace he hates and make him a slave again. Even if he doesn’t touch me, I have to feel him beneath the skin.”

He pulls a pillow to his chest for a hug, closing his eyes. He needs to calm down.

“I think I could almost convince Red to get them and go,” he whispers. “But there’s that thing in the forest…”

He shakes his head and sighs. His eyes flash open. He looks at you. “I promise Dok and I are working on things,” he whispers, so quiet you can barely hear him over the sound of Pot Noodle hopping up onto the bed and padding towards him to purr like a motorboat in his ears. “I promise…”

Anonymous asked: You're doing great, Blue. This is a really hard situation. You're doing incredibly well, okay? We're here to help, and you have your brothers with you too.

“Thank you,” he says. “That’s nice, really. I want to - I want you to have a better story to read. I think about that sometimes. I want you to see us happier. I want that.”

Dapper giggles in the windowsill and Blue looks up, some of the stress fading into warmth on his face. He and Red are huddled together over one of Dapper’s old sketchbooks, coloring together, the colored pencils you got him for Christmas scattered across the ledge. Blue hums a little, his foggy eyes seeming to clear, if only for a moment.

“Yeah, they’re here. They’re with me.”

Anonymous asked: dok, you good?

Dok is humming to himself, something you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him do. It is a discordant melody. His leg bounces in time with the beat. Trick doesn’t let himself look worried. He wraps his arms around Dok’s shoulders and pulls his body close. He expects Dok to go stiff and silent like he sometimes does. The best thing to do has always just been trying to bring him back down to earth.

“Yes, fine,” says Dok.

His face tightens with pain. Trick is hurting him from holding on too tight. But his twin doesn’t know he’s been beat, cut, and strung up by chain all within the last few nights, and he won’t let him know. He can’t. He can’t go upstairs again. He can’t stay upstairs again. There are spiders in the closet. There are spiders on his skin. He’s crying.

“I am right here,” says Trick, again and again, buried low against his shoulder, pushing you slightly away with his foot. “I am right here.”

“He’s going to come hurt me,” whimpers Dok, hiding against him. “Every night, I… I…”

“I think it’s ‘they,’ buddy,” Trick corrects him gently. “They won’t get you long as you’re in the house.”

Anonymous asked: Trick I know you mean well but I don't think anything you could say to Dok would make him feel better. Everything's a bit off but just... stay with him.

“That’s my job, to make him feel better,” whispers Trick, and something in his voice is wounded and aware. Something in his voice knows this is not wrong. “That’s my job…”

He leans back a little to look at him, but Dok just follows his body, chasing the side of his face with his own and pressing them back together like puzzle pieces stuck together in the box. Trick touches the back of his head.

“You are still a half a world away from me,” mourns Henrik, touching Trick’s wrist. “Wo ist mein zwilling?”

“Here,” protests Trick. “Hey, don’t say that, don’t, I… ich bin da. Always.”

Henrik thumbs at the pulse in his wrist.

Anonymous asked: trick, be gentle with him, okay? i don't think he wants to be squished right now. dok, you're gonna be okay. i know, it's scary and confusing and awful. but you're not in danger right now, bud. try to remember that, okay? you're not in danger right now.

Trick eases his grip around him, confused enough that he glances over to you for guidance. He strokes gently at his back. “It’s true. Not in danger.”

“Never feels that way anymore,” mumbles Dok. “Never.”

Trick bites down hard on his lip. He’s known Dok could probably use counseling for a long time, but it scares him every time he feels like he can hear Dok reading out of a DSM when he’s talking about himself. He scratches his fingers across his brother’s scalp.

“Tell me one thing I could do to make today better,” Trick urges him, trying to smile. “Yeah? If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong or what’s going on, you don’t have to. I’ll just be here. Tell me instead something that’ll make tonight better, okay? Cause we got just about everything we want in this big ol’ house. Right?”

A smile pulls at Dok’s tired lips.

“Yeah, there. Come on. What’s something that could make right now better?”

“I don’t know,” says Dok. “I don’t know, I… I’m sorry, I don’t have ideas.”

Anonymous asked: blue, and i suppose everyone, do you wanna know something funny? dark is anti's Complicated lover haha

Did I say that Blue was exhausted? Have you seen the dark bags beneath his eyes, the aching way he holds himself, the leaning of his body against the thin strength of the cane? Have you seen Blue’s fatigue in every line of his skin?

Suddenly, he is wide awake.

“No. Fucking. Way!” You hear him cry, and immediately he’s laughing so hard he shakes Noodle on his chest. “Holy shit, holy shit!”

“That’s horrible,” cries Red. “Hey, don’t even joke about that! That thing looked like a goddamn skeleton!”

“No way, no way!” howls Blue. “Nooooo, that’s too funny, holy shit! Are you kidding me? No, how does Anti even pretend to be anything’s ‘lover?’ Holy cow… oh, I don’t want to imagine the things I’m imagining, hahaha!”

Dapper rolls his eyes so hard they might get stuck back there and gags.

Anonymous asked: maybe a blanket, or a bit of food, dok? or should we see if there's something else you'd like?

“I could build you a fort,” says Trick, grinning. “With pillows and blankets.”

Dok smiles at him, entertained by his enthusiasm. He shakes his head.

“No? I could… wrap you up like a burrito. With Noodle on top.” He pulls his cat off the bed and presents him to Dok. “Do you want to be all wrapped up with your Uncle, Noodle Pot?”

Noodle meows, sniffing at Dok’s face. Dok closes his eyes, feeling his whiskers across his cheeks.

“I could feed you, yeah, all you want,” says Trick, touching his brother’s ribs, proud to feel a little weight on his body again. He hates the magicians for a lot of things, but at least they fed him well. “There’s brownie mix in the cupboard, you know. I been saving it.”

Dok tilts his head, biting on his lip. “That… might be good.”

“Yeah?”

Dok nods, smiling.

“Come with me,” says Trick, leading him to his feet. “You can curl up in the loveseat and I’ll make you brownies, okay?”

Dok loves him.

“Yes,” he says. “Okay.”

Anonymous asked: just gonna throw this out there but trick uh, anti hurts him. you could help him by keeping him away from anti, and not mentioning him. if you don't believe us, look at his bruises

“Red and Dap are getting along,” says Trick. “Look at them, oh-so-secret, bent over their little book together.”

He almost wants to make fun of them - usually, that makes Dok laugh - but he can’t. Not at that. It’s… nice. It’s good.

“Good for Dapper not to be alone,” murmurs Dok, sitting in the loveseat as promised, petting Noodle luxuriously. His brother’s cat squirms his way up his body and rests against his neck, purring warmly. “And he isn’t the only one getting on better with Red.”

Trick glances back at his twin almost guiltily, stirring brownie mix and eggs and milk together. “I… don’t want to be at odds with him, I decided. We fight, but we’re brothers too.”

He pauses, pouring the mix into a pan. “That’s… okay, right?”

“Why would it not be okay?” asks Dok, confused.

“I don’t know. I just want it to be okay that I - that I sometimes - that you’re not the only person I love.”

Dok stares at him from the chair.

“Like - I want you to know you’re still important, even if I have other people. It doesn’t mean I love you any less if I love somebody else.”

Trick’s cheek stings suddenly. He startles, reaching up to touch his face. He can almost feel the indent of fingers against his skin. He doesn’t know why. It disturbs him.

“Hey, dummkopf,” says Dok, and he turns to see his brother staring warmly back at him.

“Love’s not brownie mix,” Dok tells him, grinning. “It doesn’t thin out as you spread it.”

Trick grins back at him, huffing out a laugh and popping open the fridge. “So what you’re saying is it’s more of a viscous Jello of some kind?”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You started it.”

“I don’t know what it is, I just know it’s not caramel cluster brownie mix.”

Trick laughs.

Dok’s voice has gone soft and earnest by the time he speaks again.

“You do not belong to anyone, my brother,” he says. “Your heart doesn’t. It was meant to be free.”

“You could write poetry for Blue,” answers Trick, only barely teasing. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Dok repeats, with feeling.

“What bruises?”

“What?”

Trick’s voice has changed in an instant, flinty and trembling. Dok looks up from Noodle, confused. Trick is staring at the camera. Then his eyes flicker over to Dok, hard. “What bruises, Dok?”

Dok pulls their cat closer to his stomach, shaking his head. He turns his eyes away from his twin.

“Why do you keep getting bruises? Show me.”

“No,” says Dok. “Leave it alone, Trickshot.”

Anonymous asked: hey, trick? please leave it be for now. come back to that later, maybe, but i think it would be good for you two to just hang out with each other and be happy for a bit.

Trick’s eyes flash between you and Dok, advancing on his brother. For a moment, he considers it - you see it in the uncertainty that crosses through his face.

But Trick, though he often forgets his aggressor, is, in many ways, fighting just as hard as Blue and Dok are. And he knows something is wrong.

“This is scary,” he says, his voice cracking. “Don’t you get that?”

Dok laughs loud and broken. “Do I get that? Do I?”

“This is the first time in my life you’ve kept something from me,” Trick keeps on. “Someone’s hurting you - or you’re hurting yourself. And you won’t tell me about it.”

“I need you to trust me - ”

“No, I need you to trust me!”

“Well, I don’t!” screams Dok, loud enough to startle Noodle off his lap. Their cat streaks away, racing back towards their room. “I don’t! You think I’m fucking hypnotized when you’re the one whose head is messed up! You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you! I can’t count on you! I can’t trust you! Fuck, it’s like you’re not even my brother half the time!”

Trick’s mouth hangs open. His eyes aren’t even hurt - just horrified.

Dok hears himself breathing heavy. Hears the echo of the words like an afterimage on his tongue.

“I - I - ”

Trick can’t speak around his stammer. His hand flutters and comes to rest over his heart.

And then he regains himself again.

And he straightens up.

And he looks at Dok again, kneeling gently down beside him.

Dok feels his own eyes burn. He doesn’t even know why.

Trick touches the open palm of his hand and they breathe together, side-by-side.

Long minutes pass. Trick lets his anger and his hurt go.

Just like that. It doesn’t matter. He’s what matters. His zwilling.

When he pulls back the long sleeve of Dok’s torn coat and finds dark fingerprints in his wrist, Dok does not stop him. Trick rests his forehead against the bruises and grieves them.

“Just… tell me?”

Dok is threading his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t reply.

Anonymous asked: trick, please. i'm not gonna tell you what to do or not to do, but just,,, be aware? pushing dok on this will hurt both of you. like, emotionally. you're picking the scab on an infected wound here. do what you will, but think about what it is you want to do here

Trick sighs very long and very deep. He gives a shaken laugh. Doesn’t know why.

“Does someone know?” he whispers. “Someone who loves you?”

Dok nods.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Is it going to stop soon?”

Dok blinks and tears run down his cheeks. “I really hope so, my brother.”

Trick kisses his bruised wrist, resting his head against Dok’s lap.

“I want to take you to Singapore,” he says suddenly, curling his fingers around Dok’s. “I really think you would have liked it there. I thought about you every time I was happy. I could show you all the places I liked.”

“That would be fun,” says Dok. “I want to push you in the Lion fountain.”

“Ohhh, Dok,” says Trick, because what the fuck else is he meant to say? “Ohhh, Dok.”

He would like to give him worlds and worlds, but all he has are brownies.

Anonymous asked: dok, are you going to say? you don't have to though, love, it's an honest question.

“I just - I just want to see you trying to think for yourself again,” whispers Dok. “Please? It scares me when you don’t act like yourself. I think maybe, secretly, he’s suicidal or wanting to hurt himself again.”

“No, Dok, I feel good,” protests Trick, clutching at him. “I promise, I promise! I would tell you, I promise.”

“But there are these moments where you’re not okay. I keep seeing them! Like suddenly you’re freaking out and you need to break in half.”

“It’s just - I don’t know why that happens, but it never lasts long, bro, it never does.”

“I’m scared you’d get angry at me if I told you the truth,” admits Dok in a croak. “I’m scared I would see just how much you’re really not yourself. That maybe I would think you aren’t going to be yourself again.”

“Hey, stop,” answers Trick. “Look, that… don’t, that fucking stings. Don’t say shit like that. Like I’m losing you. Hey, it’s not fair. I’m trying to be a good brother.”

“I’m sorry.”

Trick rubs at his reddened face, sniffling as he gets up to check the brownies.

Dok turns away. “I think you already know who did this anyway,” he adds, so soft you’re not sure Trick hears it. “But it’s too terrible for you to admit.”

Whether or not he did, Trick doesn’t turn around. He is getting the brownies out of the oven. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t.

Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe.

“I think you already know,” repeats Dok, even quieter. “I think you do.”

Anonymous asked: hey, dok? you and trick and your other brothers will be okay. i know it might be hard to believe that, but don't lose hope, okay? you're gonna be okay. things will get better. i promise.

“Every time I look at him I think, over and over again, ‘I have to get him out of here, I have to get him out of here, I have to get him out of here,’“ says Dok in a hush. “It’s the worst part of the torture. I have to get him out of here. He doesn’t even know.”

He digs his fingernails into his palms and closes his eyes, trying to find his strength again, his hope, like you said.

“I don’t want to be tortured anymore,” he says, his voice creasing. “Things have to get better. I’m scared all the time. But we’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here. You promised, yeah? You promise…”

Anonymous asked: Hows the coloring coming guys?-Pink

“Good,” says Red cheerfully, bonking his head against Dapper’s as a sign of affection. Unfortunately, Dapper is not familiar with this form of affection, and he reels back like a startled cat, nearly falling off the windowsill. Red doesn’t notice. “Dap said I could color his old drawings since he never uses color. And I was like, bro, I don’t want to ruin your drawings! They’re yours! But he says he can hardly tell the difference and he doesn’t mind.”

“I have dozens of sketch books,” says Dapper. “These old ones aren’t even that good.”

“Hey, don’t be a dumb-ass,” protests Red, genuinely affronted on his behalf. “They’re really good!”

He holds up a black and white hummingbird. Color is seeping into its feathers, starting at the breast. Red is not particularly neat in his coloring, but his colors have an organization of their own to them, like he’s giving motion to the body of the bird.

“They’re all good!”

Red begins flipping through pages. A bear with its teeth showing. A city in Japan through a small window. Anti. A raccoon, a pinata, a half-dozen clocks, a dark figure with swept-back hair.

Red blinks.

Red stops.

Red stares.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, that’s the Darkness.”

He stares up at Dapper. Dapper stares down at the floor, mouth twisted.

Eyes scared.

“Dapper? What’s going on?”

Anonymous asked: dap, do you feel like saying? it's okay if you don't, this is an extremely stressful situation and i think red will understand.

“Red, Anti won’t listen,” signs Dapper rapidly. “He doesn’t understand. For once, it’s not his fault, but he doesn’t.”

“If he won’t listen to you, that is his fault,” answers Red humorlessly, and you hear a little of his twin’s bitterness in his mouth.

“Be that as it may. You and me and - well, Max - ”

“Max,” repeats Red, for no reason at all.

“We’re the only ones who know about what I did!”

Red sighs, trying to think. “Slow down, slow down. You’re talking about… when you snapped?”

Dapper’s eyes are wide, soaking in moonlight. He nods once. “Do you remember?”

pine-storm-season asked: Could you elaborate, please, Dap? I don't think we really know what happened. You don't have to, though.

“We talked about it. How our old master forgot.”

Red’s eyebrows raise. “Right… Max said he went to see that guy, J - ”

Dapper shoves his hands over Red’s mouth, eyes wide. He pauses for a second before drawing away, making sure Red gets the message.

“Right,” says Red, flushed. “Guess that isn’t a safe name to say.”

“Our old master forgot us,” says Dapper. “Our creator. Even though he made us. When Anti got his hands on him, I was psychotic and I was scared for him. I snapped - and created a whole separate timeline from the correct one.”

“Right,” says Red. “Like a timeline where we shouldn’t even exist. Where none of us happened, so Anti can never hurt him. That’s why the cameras said there should be videos of us on that Youtube channel, but there aren’t. Because this is a different timeline.”

“Yes.”

“Dap, we better pray Anti is asleep.”

“He’ll just think we’re losing it if he hears us talking like this. But that’s the timeline we’re in now, Red - one where it’s like we never even existed.”

Red pauses, picking at his lip. “So no one would know we exist.”

“Right.”

“Even people we used to know, people we know we had connections with… to them, it’s like we never existed.”

“Right!” cries Dapper. “That’s what you have to remember me saying, or the rest doesn’t make sense. I snapped the timeline. That’s why our old creator doesn’t remember us. That’s why no one remembers us. Like we talked about at the motel in Colombia. Okay? So listen: I broke the timeline trying to protect our creator and I spliced different pieces together. Now, it’s like no one created us at all, like we just came to be. So no one remembers us at all, even if we think they should. Understand?”

Red laughs. “But, Dap, that’s not true!”

Dapper blinks, drawing back from him. “How do you mean?”

“People do remember us,” Red insists. And then, softer: “Max remembers me.”

Dapper looks away, thinking. He rubs at his mustache. Red can almost see his little brother’s brain whirring away like the inside of a computer.

“But… the old master doesn’t remember us.”

“Well, that’s not really true either,” says Red, making Dapper’s head snap up. “Remember? The way he reacted to Max coming to his door wasn’t normal. He didn’t act like Max was crazy. Max said he kept saying our names. Over and over and over.”

“Like he was trying to remember,” says Dapper uncertainly.

“Yeah.”

“Like, even though the timelines snapped…”

“There’s still some people who remember us. Even though it’s like we didn’t exist.”

“Why would they do that?”

Red shrugs, looking down at his hands, fidgeting. “Dap, I - when I found Max, it wasn’t like he was… new. I mean, I forgot everything about him, yeah. But it was still like… like he was a piece of me.”

Dapper looks down at his hands.

“Maybe,” he says after a moment. “Maybe it’s possible, that even though I broke the timeline and made it like we just popped into existence instead of being created… maybe there were some people who were so much a part of us, and us so much a part of them, that I couldn’t just take us away from them.”

“And they remember,” agrees Red softly. “Like we’re trying to remember. Like… girls who smell like cigarettes. Like Trick said. She’s a part of him no matter what happens and what Anti takes or what timelines you shift. Some things - some things don’t get erased. Not even by powerful magic. Some people are too important to forget even if you did snap the timeline.”

Dapper pulls at his beard, silenced by the realization. Red turns his head, peering out the window, where the great darkness of the forest waits, looking back at him.

“So the question is… was Anti important enough to Dark for them to remember him?”

Dapper curls his hands together over his heart, closing his eyes.

“And what will they do to us if they don’t?”

#chapter four #writers of jack

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thisnerdblog · 7 years

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@thassalia asked for the Fanfic Meme:

1. Things that Inspire you?

Music, almost 100% music, art and other authors. Actually honestly nearly anything and everything is inspiring, the littlest thing can can produce an idea at the drop of a hat.

3. Name three favorite writers.

. @thassalia and @handypolymath , when you two get together you make magic, also super fantastic on your own. @ireallyhopethismakesuseven is fantastic and I love all her stuff ❤️

24. Favorite scene you’ve ever written?

From one of my first fics, the Avengers are hanging post battle waiting for the suits to give them the green light to leave. It’s snowing and cold and Hulk wraps one giant meaty hand around Nat’s shoulder keeping her warm. It’s terrible and silly and OOC but it was the first real thing I wrote since middle school and i have a soft spot for it. I suppose it wants me to post the scene here, but it’s more the entire damn fic, and I don’t need to bring that much attention to it 😬

46. Share a scene from a story you haven’t published yet?

I’ve been playing around with a Monster Hunter/ Steam Punk AU for the longest time, it’s something I would love to get off the ground.

Natasha Romanoff, leaned back in her chair, bringing the glass to her lips. The frothy head of the dark sweet beer tickled her lips as she took a long draw. The brew was thick and malty with a hint of honey, more of a meal than an actual drink. Setting the pint glass down she pulled the earthenware bowl of stew closer. The dark gravy was thick with barley and mutton. Peas, carrots, pearl onions, mushrooms, and cubes of potatoes hung suspended in the dark broth waiting her spoon. To the side was a loaf of soft soda bread studded with little raisins, soaked in butter.

To her left her partner sat hunched over his bowl, like a dog guarding a bone, shoveling spoonful after spoonful of stew into his mouth. Clint Barton was a stout man, broad shouldered and thick armed. He wore his blonde hair close cropped, and his heavy brows permanently drawn together. But despite the man’s permanent outward scowl, he was was lighthearted and forever a child.

They sat at a well worn and pock marked table, pushed snugly into the corner farthest from the bar. Despite being in the lonely gray village of Starks Hollow little less than a month, they had quickly claimed the little table as their own. Not only was it located in a prime spot by the ever roaring fire (the cold seemed a permanent thing in Starks Hollow), but it also provided an unobstructed view of the entire establishment. Being in their line of work required establishing certain habits if you wanted to live. It was the particular reason She and her partner where holed up in this little god forsaken Hollow.

There was something in the hills that spooked farmers and fouled their crops and animals. It was Natasha and Clint’s job to find out what. Natasha was fairly certain it was a lone wolf and a whole heaping pile of superstition, but Commander Fury had been adamant they go out and perform a full investigation. So far the duo had come across nothing but old wives tales and school house ghost stories.

Clint was enjoying himself, he considered it his first official on the job vacation, and intended to use Fury’s purse to fund it. Most days found her partner sleeping in until noon, interviewing the prettiest girls the village had to offer, putting on impromptu trick shot shows, and drinking the tavern dry. He was having the time of his life.

Natasha on the other hand felt her talents were being wasted in such a tiny village as Starks Hollow. She much preferred the work that made a difference. Natasha had a very specific skill set, she could blend in anywhere and everywhere using her short stature and fine features to fool just about anyone. She could lull men and women both into her web of false security, letting her prey believe they had the advantage before she would strike. Or on some occasions, place the target just so for her partner to take out with an arrow or two to the back.

A frigid sweep of cool late afternoon air ushered a patron through the door, briefly illuminating the dark bar with the low orange light of the setting sun. The newcomer closed the door quickly and headed straight for the bar. Even with his head low, nose buried into a ragged scarf, she could tell she hadn’t met this fellow before. She had managed to interview just about every citizen of the Hollow, even those secluded farmers, but she didn’t recall this man.

He wasn’t particularly tall, though he did have a full head of dark curling hair that just touched the collar of his coat. He had a scraggly mess of a beard, flecked with hints of silver. Under the beard his cheeks were hallow, the bags under his eyes were dark smudges on pale skin. His coat looked to large and hung off thin shoulders. His clothes were frayed, patched, and travel worn.

She watched as he sat on a stool and flagged down the tavern keepers wife. Frigga was a grand and stately woman, beautiful silver and blond curls elegantly piled atop her head while thin bits of silver dripped from her ears. Her Husband, Odin owned the Raven’s Jig, but Frigga was the woman in charge keeping her husband, two sons and a whole slew of patrons in line. There was none that Frigga didn’t know.

She approached the newcomer and stared him down, from where Natasha sat she couldn’t read the new comers lips, but he must of said something to Frigga. The woman gasped, hand flying to her mouth, a pleased smile slowly crawled across her face. She reached out and gripped the mans thin wrist.

She said something threw her fingers Natasha couldn’t read, reaching out to tweak the whiskers at his chin. He ducked his head hiding his chin back into his scarf.

“Sit tight, Dear. Let me fetch you something warm to eat.” She patted the mans wrist and turned toward the kitchens.

The man slumped back into the stool, hunching his shoulders and wringing one of Friggas cloth napkins.

A fresh pint was sat down in front of she and Clint, frothy head spilling down the side of the glass. Odin and Frigga eldest son smiled down at Natasha as he gathered up the spent pint glasses. With long golden hair and matching beard, Thor was easily the best looking man for miles around. Wide shoulders and even wider grin, the man was as strong as an ox and kind to boot. If he wasn’t already so besotted with Miss Jane Foster the baker, Natasha was inclined to take a page out of Clint’s book.

She reached out and grabbed at his sleeve. Motioning toward the newcomer she asked who he was.

Thor scratched his beard, left hand easily holding all their discarded dishes.

“I’m unsure, though mother seems to know him.” Frigga had returned from the kitchen, heaping bowl of stew in one hand and an over flowing glass of golden cider in the other. She sat down the meal before him and started chatting. Thor threw Natasha a cheeky grin “want me to find out for you?”

“If you don’t mind.” Natasha ducked her own head, tugging at her red braid. Let him think she was interested in the guy, things usually went smoother that way.

Thor’s laugh was like a clap of thunder, his big hand patted her slim shoulder. “Consider it done!”

Clint nudged her elbow, coming up for air. He quirked a heavy brow reaching for his new glass. Natasha jerked her chin in the direction of the man at the bar.

“New guy.”

He nodded, humming. They both watched as Thor sauntered up to the bar, golden braids swinging. He passed off his load of dishes to his dark haired younger brother, who scowled sourly. He swung his tree trunk like arm around his Mother kissing her temple. Frigga laughed, and swatted at her Son. She gestured to the Other man, than back to her Son. Thor stared at the other man, smile slipping and brows pulling together in thought. He studied the man for a moment more, before another exited and slightly disbelieving laugh and grabbing the the man and pulling him into as much an embrace as he could with the bar in the way.

The other man laughed a bit nervously, patting Thor awkwardly on his massive shoulder. Pulling backed Thor set about pelting the dark haired man with a rapid string of questions, which he answered, fingers fiddling with his spoon. The questions would have gone on all night if Frigga hadn’t shooed her Son off.

Thor went about some of his duties, though a giddy energy kept his usual swagger tight. Thor was not a subtle man. He returned to the table, pulling out a chair and settling down with his own pint. He looked like a school girl ready to share a bit of juicy gossip.

He jerked his whiskered chin over his shoulder. “That is Bruce Banner.” He said the name as if of course they should know who that was and be just as excited as he. Clint and Natasha flicked a quick sideways glance at each other.

“ I grew up with him, well we weren’t really close. He and Stark were inseparable, though. I wouldn’t doubt to see Stark storming through those doors in the next few minutes. Close as brothers he and Banner.” His younger brother, Loki passed their table with a disgusted snort. “Well most brothers.” His grin only widened.

“ His Father was Brian Banner and his Mother was Rebecca. I remember her, sweetest lady you would have ever met. Used to keeps sweets in her apron pockets.” He laughed brightly again “ Loki got the lot of us believing she was a Swan Maiden and Mr. Banner was hiding her skin. Stark, Banner, Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, Sif, Jane, and Pepper, all of us searched those hills high and low for hours. Ohh our clothes got so muddy, we all would have gotten a turn with the paddle if Mrs. Banner hadn’t found us first. “ he took a swig “ cleaned us up and stuffed us with bread and molasses. We told her the whole story, cried that we didn’t want her to stay captured, but that we didn’t want her to leave. She laughed and sang to us, her voice was like silver bells. She told us the even if she was a Swan Maiden she would never leave.” Suddenly Thor’s smile dimmed “She died a few short years later.” He played with the edge of his glass.

“What happens to her?” Clint asked around a mouthful of buttery soda bread.

“Mauled, by some wild beast. No one knows why she was out on the moors so late. But they found her the next morning along the side of the road with her throat ripped and her entire chest pulled apart. Gutted like a fish, not an organ in sight. Most believe she was the first human victim of the Hound.” Here Thor dropped his voice a bit.

Natasha nodded her head, she knew The Hound, it was the reason why she and Clint where stuck here. Supposedly there was a great black Hound, with eyes as red as hell, claws as long as pitchforks, and a howl that froze you to the spot. It was said he slept under the hills until the moon was full, then he would gallop across the moors dragging death in his wake.

Pure poppy-cock in Natasha’s opinion. There is no such creature in any guide book or grimoire she was aware off. At best it was a sick wolf, at worst some faery hound, but nothing she and Clint couldn’t handle.

“Any way, she died, Bruce didn’t take it well. Started quarreling with Brian Banner. It got so bad that one day Bruce had just up and left. We don’t know if Old Brian gave him the boot or Bruce left on his own. But he has been gone now a good fifteen years.”

“Brian Banner, that’s the name of the fellow who went missing?” Natasha leaned forward.

“Aye, he did. Hound came back for him, some think.”

“You don’t sound to sorry about Mr. Banner?”

Thor blushed lightly and look a mite ashamed. “ Ah, well he was” he scratched at his beard, thinking hard. Natasha knew these types, superstition ran deep in their blood. Best not say anything ill toward the dead, else they will rise from their graves and haunt you.

“He was particular.” Thor nodded sagely, proud of his diplomatic descriptor.

So Brian Banner was an unpopular ass hole.

“Was he always particular?” Asked Clint.

Thor nodded and drained the rest of his pint. “Ever since I could remember. Old Brian didn’t much care for children, he would run us off the moment he stepped in from his fields. Makes you wonder just why he would have a child in the first place.”

Clint nodded as well, draining his own glass. Then for the second time the inn door pitched open wide bringing in with it the chill of the night. Thor chuckled and rose from his seat.

“I told you.” He gathered up the rest of their glasses and bowls and headed for the kitchen, back to work.

Tony Stark entered the inn with an extravagant flourish of his long cherry red coat. He made a show of placing his fists on his hips and scanning the crowded tables and bar before landing on Bruce Banner.

“Odin, old man, since when do you serve mangy old dogs!” Odin rolled his one good eye and chewed on his pipe stem. Banner turned in his seat, a small grin painted his lips, dimming the shadows of his face and bringing back a little bit of boyish charm.

Stark gave a whoop and charged Banner, knocking his silk hat from his head as he crashed into the other man, pulling him tight into a brotherly bear hug.

Yo, if anyone want to talk Avengers Monster Hunter/Steam Punk AU, I need all the workshopping I can get!

#Jen rambles #brucenat #hulkwidow #jen's fic #questions #ask meme

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