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thatacotargirl · 3 months

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Shadows and Surprises (7)

Part 7 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Sorry for the delay!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: none.

Tag list - @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @minnieoo @st4r-girl-official

@courtofjurdan @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @impossibelle

@mybestfriendmademe @hauntedstudentobservationus @julesofvolterra @acourtofbatboydreams @rogersbarnesxx

@skylarkalchemist @sidthedollface2 @aehllitas-blog @fullmoon-94 @acourtofbatboydreams

@aehllitas-blog @fullmoon-94 @5onedirection5 @mindofthescattered @rcarbo1

@dumblani

Y/N's POV

"And hook the right arm a little, no, I mean like thi-, no wait that's not, y/n, hold your, yes ok now we're getting somewhere".

Absolutely nothing that Cassian just said to you made sense. But, he said you're getting somewhere, and he's the expert after all.

You throw your arm around in a right hook, attempting to catch Cassian in the jaw, but he blocks you and brings his clenched fist up to your throat. He, naturally, stops short and doesn't actually touch you, only showing you where your weak spots are when you throw the first punch in a fight, but it was enough to feel Azriel's wrath seeping across the training ring.

"That's enough, Cassian", he calls out, standing to approach you both in the centre of the ring.

"What?! I'm fine Az, I'm not even tired" you protest, attempting to throw another hook at Cassian whilst he is distracted, which he again blocks - only without even looking at you. How does he do that?

"Az, brother, you need to relax. If y/n needs to stop, she will tell me - she did the other day and we stopped straight away. I promise", Cassian reassures Azriel, but you see his eyes darken.

"Why did you need to stop the other day? You didn't tell me that? Were you hurt?".

You let out a frustrated gruff and start to walk away towards the stairs that lead back down to the house. You are almost 7 months into your pregnancy now, and Azriel is only getting more protective and overbearing by the day. Just this morning he wouldn't even let you put your own socks on so you didn't bend down and 'squash the baby'. As you descend the stairs, you see a tuft of golden hair fly past and run into a nearby room, slamming a door. Peering in the direction the tuft of hair came from, you see Rhysand staring ahead blankly.

"Should I ask?".

Rhys just shakes his head to you and wanders off in the other direction. Looking at the door that had just slammed, you walk over and knock quietly.

"Fey?", you call out, resting your ear against the door. No answer.

"Feyre?", you try again. No answer.

"I'm coming in, Fey", you say as you push open the door to one of the many spare bedrooms. When you poke your head in, you see Feyre curled in a ball on the bed, sobs racking her body. You walk over and perch on the edge, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened?", you ask quietly, rubbing soothing circles along her shoulder and back. She stayed quiet, sobbing into the pillow, so you stay silent too, keeping up the gentle circles until you feel her body still underneath you. Thinking she's asleep, you go to stand, but you hear a soft sniff and Feyre looks up at you.

"I kissed him".

"Kissed who? Rhys?"

Feyre just nods, hiding her face back in the pillow, but at least this time it isn't accompanied by tears.

"What's the problem with that, Fey?"

"I'm in love with Tamlin!"

Who the fuck is Tamlin?

"He's the High Lord of Spring", Feyre whispers.

Ah shit, I said that out loud.

"Yes, you did".

SHIT. It must be the pregnancy brain.

Silence follows.

Right ok, I didn't say that out loud then.

"No, you didn't".

Cauldron boil me now.

"I am with Tamlin, I am to marry Tamlin, look", Feyre holds up her hand showing a huge emerald rock on her finger. There is no mistaking that she is a soon-to-be bride.

"Was it a mistake?"

"Yes", she says quickly. Then pauses. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Well I wanted to kiss him in that moment. But maybe it's some kind of survivor's guilt thing, Rhys saved me under the mountain and so I owed him a thank you?"

"Maybe Fey, but you don't need to beat yourself up over it. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake. Rhysand will not hold that against you, he's a good male".

"I know", she whispers. After a short pause, she adds "but if it was a mistake, why do I want to do it again?".

You have no answer, so you simply go back to rubbing her back, hoping it is offering her at least some comfort. Your situation was a difficult one, but at least you and Azriel were on the same page. Although, thinking about that, were you? You hadn't discussed the future nor the circumstances of your relationship. Would Azriel see other people? Would you move out when the baby was born and co-parent? You hadn't admitted your feelings to Azriel, certain that he didn't return them, but you hadn't stopped to think about how difficult it would be to watch him start a life with another female one day. A knot forms in your chest as you realise how uncertain your own circumstances are, and you have absolutely no advice to offer Feyre because, if you did, perhaps you'd take that for your own.

You look down and see that Feyre had, in fact, cried herself to sleep. Standing gentle, making sure not to rock the bed too much, you retreat from the room and pull the door closed, wandering off to the library in search of Azriel.

You find the trio in the library, sat spread out across the various sofas and chairs in the room. Cassian gives you a wave, sloshing his glass of whiskey and causing half of it to land on the carpet. Rhys only shakes his head and waves a hand, the mess disappearing instantly. Azriel sits himself up from lounging and pats the space next to him on the sofa, a glass of sparkling water appearing on the small table next to the seat. You smile and join him on the sofa, appreciating the water more than you probably should, but you hadn't had a chance to hydrate after your training session since you had found yourself in Feyre's room. Rhys looked at you, a question in his eyes, but you could only shrug a response. You had no update for him.

"How are you feeling", Azriel asks, sipping on his whiskey.

"I'm ok, starting to get a bit sore and achy now, but nothing I can't manage".

"Should we speak with Madja?", Rhys asks, but you shake your head.

"No need, it's all normal pregnancy stuff, nothing to be concerned about". It didn't make Azriel's face look any less concerned.

"I'll stay in tonight", he says, setting down his glass.

"Tonight?".

"Yeah, I'll stay in". You see Cassian glare at him from across the room and raise your eyebrows in question.

"I only went out of my way and wingmanned him a hot date, and he's going to bail only a few hours before. Way to make me look bad Az", he guilts, pulling a pout. But you stopped listening after you hear 'hot date'. Your ears start ringing and your eyes prick with tears which you quickly blink away. Not quickly enough to avoid Azriel's attention, though.

"Are you ok? Does something hurt?".

"I'm fine", you snap a bit harsher than you meant to. Standing from the sofa, you throw a look his way and add a soft "don't worry". You start to walk away, but he calls you back.

"I'm actually quite tired, Az. I'm going to head to bed and get an early night. Have fun on your date and I'll see you tomorrow, ok?'. You leave the room before giving him a chance to respond.

Azriel's POV

"You look great, Az!", Cassian says, straightening my bow tie. He doesn't seem to realise that Azriel will be tearing it off the moment before he takes the sky.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks Cass", he offers, looking at the wall.

"What?! I'd definitely do you", Cassian replies, still fiddling with the bow tie. Azriel only look at him with a glare, to which Cassian chuckles.

"Right, you're all ready, off you go", he says, patting Azriel's shoulder and steering him towards the balcony. "Go get her", he winks, before walking back into the House of Wind.

Azriel sighs, rips off the bow tie, and jumps from the ledge, heading into the centre of Velaris.

He arrives at the restaurant and finds his date standing outside waiting, even though Azriel himself is 10 minutes early. She is pretty, there is no denying that, but Azriel can't clear his mind of the beautiful female back at the House currently carrying his child.

"Hi!", his date calls, walking over to him.

"Hi Tori", he smiles, offering her a quick hug. The pair of them walk into the restaurant and are seated at a private table on the roof, as arranged by Cassian and Rhysand. The pair of them seem to think that a date will help Azriel's 'brooding', as they call it. But Azriel's mind is in one place and on one thing, and it isn't the female sat opposite him at this table.

The date is nice. The food is good, the drinks are flowing, and the live entertainment is a dream. But Azriel can't stop thinking about y/n.

"You seem distracted?", Tori asks, slurring her words slightly after they finished their 3rd bottle of wine and gestured the waiter for a 4th.

It's like she opened a floodgate. With the question lingering and the sheer volume of alcohol he had consumed to try and distract himself, Azriel suddenly word vomits everything that is in his brain, telling his date every single detail about you and his unborn child.

"A word of advice, Azriel, if I may?".

He nods.

"You clearly care for this female and your baby more than anything on the planet. So why, on the sun and the moon and the stars and the damned cauldron itself, are you on a date with me instead of telling this female that you very clearly love her?".

He sits in silence, stewing over Tori's words, before it feels like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over his entire body. He does. He loves you. He loves you more than he has loved anything or anyone in this world. And tonight, he let you sit at home, uncomfortable and sore, carrying his child, whilst he went on a date. He had fucked up.

Standing abruptly, Azriel reaches into his wallet and throws a heaping handful of notes on the table, covering the bill and then some.

"I'm so sorry", he says to Tori, who merely shakes her head and smiles.

"Go get your girl, Az".

Crash landing on the balcony and stumbling through the House, Azriel finds your door and knocks hard.

"Y/n?", he whisper shouts, knocking again.

You must be asleep. But this can't wait.

Azriel pushes the door open, but your bed is empty. He checks the bathroom. Empty.

Perhaps you had a midnight craving? He stumbles down to the kitchen. Empty.

Confused, disorientated, and slightly nauseous, Azriel makes his way to his own bedroom. He walks in and see a small piece of paper folded on his pillow. His eyes struggle to focus but he manages to successfully unfold the paper, only for his heart to fall to his stomach at its contents.

Azriel,

I am so sorry.

Y/n.

It was too late. You'd gone.

#a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x y/n #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #a court of frost and starlight #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #acotar fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 days

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Don't Speak 52 - Finale

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: 🕊️

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Alright, one o’clock,” Amber says as she walks into the room. She sets down her phone and you pull the pillow over the tablet to hide it. “Is that enough time?”

“Sure,” you answer. You don’t have much choice. It has to be done and the sooner, the better. You want it to be done with. All of it.

As much as you want everything to go back to how it was, you know that even this can’t make it so. Things will always be different. You will always be different.

“I’m just going to give Curtis a call and check in.” She explains.

“Right,” you shrug and smile at her.

You wait for her to leave before you move the cushion. You’re nervous about the appointment. It’s going to hurt probably. You don’t think anything can hurt as much as everything that’s happened in the last few months.

You tap the screen to wake it up. The library of videos opens and you scroll through. You spent have the night wavering between the delete button and just smashing the tablet. For whatever reason, you can’t do either.

You close the cover again, still caught in indecision. Once you’ve dealt with the baby, you’ll be able to think. You get up and take the tablet with you to your room. You dress in your old clothes; a pair of faded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt.

It’s strange being in that place again. You look around at all those things you almost forgot. Amber didn’t change a single piece of it. Your chest sinks as your eyes cling to the window. What did she think when she found you gone? You feel horrid for hurting her like that.

You sit and pull on socks then rub together your frigid hands. The world around you is both hazy and vivid. You feel every second roll by and yet the colours and the sounds are all so distant. Today is the day.

You hide the tablet under your pillow and go back out. Amber is on the couch. Her shoulders are almost to her ears. She’s as anxious as you are.

“Curtis can’t drive us. He’s caught up helping out his buddy.” She explains.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you shrug.

“We’ll take my car. He fixed the heating issue so it should hold out,” she says, flicking her thumb against her phone nervously.

You go to her and sit, “it’ll be okay.”

She sniffs and sits forward. You feel her look at you, “are you?”

“I think?” You clutch your knees. “I don’t know. I just feel... sure. Certain.”

“That’s good. But you know, it’s entirely your choice.”

“I know and that’s why I’m sure,” you force a tense smile.

Her phone buzzes. She squints at the screen as she reads. “He said he’ll bring us some dinner. He should be done with Jake by then.”

You nod and your eyes explore the room. She’s silent, still watching.

“So much is different,” you murmur. “You know Jake too?”

“Sure. He helped us. When you sent that message. He found you.” She says.

You look at her, “found me?”

“I know. Sneaky.”

“No, it’s... good.” You lower your head.

You linger in the lull. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s calm. Patient. There’s a rattle at the window. A strange tapping. You look over and Amber follows the noise too.

There’s a dove outside looking in. The frost in the window has warmed to condensation in the last days. You stare at its grey feathers as it coos and quorks its head.

“Spring is close,” Amber says. “The birds are coming back.”

You stare, hypnotised by the creature. A second dove lands beside it. You read that they often stay in pairs.

“Well, about an hour and we’ll head out,” Amber gets up. “You need anything, bub?”

“No, I’m fine,” you assure her and lean back, “I’m just going to close my eyes.”

She hums and goes into the kitchen. You listen to her as you relax into the couch. You drag your hands up to your stomach. Almost there.

🕊️

As Amber drives, your eyes catch in the side mirror. You give a start and sit up against the seat belt. You shake off the fright as the grey car behind you slows with the flow of traffic. No, you’re imagining things.

You lean your arm on the door and hold your head. Amber idles in the clog of the street and taps her fingers on the steering wheel. She looks ahead and clucks. You’re ahead of schedule. You couldn’t stay still and it’s a good thing you left early.

She continues on in the slog and flips her blinker. She takes a side street away from the dense main way. Before she can circle around the block, a pair of headlights flash in the mirror. You don’t get more than a glimpse of their glare. She pulls through the back entry beside the dumpsters and curls around the front of the clinic.

“Oof, finally here,” she shifts into park. “You think with the weather getting nicer, more people would walk.”

“Yeah,” you agree dully.

Your ears are buzzing. You look over your shoulder at the clinic then back to the fence ahead of you. You exhale.

“Bub,” Amber says as she shuts off the engine.

“It’s okay. I’m ready,” you say. “Just... something...”

Your voice trails off as another car pulls up from the back of the lot. You turn and your chest knots at the familiar grill and emblem. It can’t be. It’s just a coincidence.

The SUV pulls in next to you and you look up at their tinted window. His silhouette alone is enough to assure you. You reach over and grab Amber’s wrist as she unlocks the door.

“No, lock them!” You cry out as Andy open’s his car door.

“Bubba--” She swallows her protest and the locks thunk. “Shit!”

Andy’s treads his the ground and he slams the door. He looks around, staring at the clinic, then scowls. He bends to look through the passenger window at you.

“Open up.” He demands.

“Fuck off!” Amber shoves her hand across you and flips him the finger. “Don’t make me call the police again.”

“You fucking liar!” He snarls as he hits the window, his voice muffled by the barrier, “I knew you were hiding her.”

“I said go the fuck away,” she leans over.

You watch Andy in horror. You shrink down as you tremble. You’re not ready for this. Not for him.

“Dove, Dove,” his gaze falls and meets yours, “hey, sweetie, let’s talk. I calmed down. Please--”

You close your eyes and shake your head.

“She doesn’t want to talk,” Amber snips.

“Dove, you can’t--” he pauses. “Whatever you’re doing here, don’t do it. Please. We can figure this out. I know what this place is--”

You shake your head and drone, “no, no, no, no, no, no...”

“Go away!” Amber barks again and slaps the window. She pulls back and grabs her phone. “I’m calling Officer Jones. How many reports is that, Andrew?”

“Wait...” you gulp as you open your eyes and grab her arm. “Wait...”t

“Bub, please--”

You squeeze and let her go, “he’s my problem. Let me deal with him.”

“You can’t. He's dangerous. He’ll hurt you--”

“I don’t care. He can’t hurt me. Not anymore.” You undo your seat belt and take a breath.

She says your name as you reach for the lock and slide it up. The door opens from the other side. Amber latches on as you try to get out. You tug and pull away.

You get out and close the door. Andy crowds you between the cars, his hands on your shoulders at once, sliding up to cradle your face.

“Sweetie, sweetie, I was so afraid--”

You grasp his wrists and lean away as he tries to kiss you.

“Don’t touch me,” you yanks his arms down and shove him. He’s big and strong. You almost forgot that. Still, he does as you tell him. His eyes are bloodshot and his face pale.

“Honey,” he begs.

“No.”

“What-- what are you doing here?” He rasps and looks over again. “You’re-- you’re-- you have to be. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You shake your head.

“It’s mine. It has to be! I’m the only one. The only one!” He grabs your arms again, “Please, honey, I can take care of you. Both of you. You and the baby.”

“No!” You exclaim and hit his chest.

Another car door snaps shut and Amber’s shadow comes around the trunk. You look at her and give her a look. She stops, worry woven above her brow. You face Andy again and push until he stops touching you.

“It’s not yours and even if it was, I wouldn’t want it. Just like I never wanted you,” you sneer.

“Dove, you don’t mean--”

“I mean it,” you hiss. “I hate you. I always hated you but I was afraid.” You hit his stomach and he staggers back. “You’re a bully. That’s all you are.”

“No, I love you--”

“No, you don’t!” You holler and stomp your foot. You point at him, “you don’t love anyone. You can’t. I’m not the broken one. You are!”

“Dove--” he stands straight and reaches for you. You slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch me. I’m done with you. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“You don’t have a choice,” he snarls, his eyes darkening as his expression hardens. “That’s my baby, I have rights--”

He lunges for you and you cry out. He doesn’t get to you as Amber launches herself between you and tackles him against his car. She’s smaller than him but that doesn’t stop her. She bites his hand as he tries to grab her neck and she jabs two fingers into his ribs. He wheezes and recoils.

She pushes away and stands between you and him. She keeps you behind her as she stands tall.

“Try it again.”

“You can’t do this. You can’t keep me away from her. You can’t kill my child--”

“It’s not yours!” You shout and peek around Amber. You squeeze her arm and step up next to her. “It’s Dr. Kemp’s. Your friend. The one who helped you hurt me.”

“No, I didn’t--” he begins.

“You did. I have proof. I have the videos.”

“What videos?” He spits.

“I changed the password,” you say. “You can’t get rid of them now.”

“No, you’re lying. There’s no--”

“I have them all. Every single one.” Your eyes overflow. “It’s your name on the account, not mine. The police can figure it out, can’t they?”

He looks as if he’s been hit again. The lines in his forehead deepens and his mouths slits to a thin line. He glares at you. The way that used to make you do whatever he wanted. Not this time.

“It’s over. I’m done with you. I never even wanted you, Andy,” you breathe. “No one could ever want you, not even me.”

He winces and his lips part but nothing comes out.

“And if you ever come near me or my sister again,” you twine your fingers through Amber’s and cling to her. “I will send those videos to the police.”

He stares, eyes searching, pleading. You won’t fall for it. He can make himself look pathetic but you don’t believe him. Not anymore.

He waits. You say nothing. He sniffs and pulls his shoulders back. His jaw grits and his eyes flash.

“You’re just the same as you always were. Fucked in the head,” he grits and goes to turn. Before he can, you swing your foot up. It’s a low blow, cheap, but you don’t care.

Your toes meet the front of his pants and he grunts. He staggers and falls to his knees, clutching his crotch as he shudders. You get closer as Amber keeps a hold on your hand. You bend and lower your voice as you get close to Andy’s ear.

“I never came for you,” you whisper.

He gurgles and you back up. There’s nothing else to say. You turn and tug on Amber. You walk away without looking back.

As you get to the door of the clinic, the sun comes out from behind the clouds and beams against the white brick. A cheep tweaks in your ear and you turn to see the sparrows bustling in the barren branches of the bushes. They send up a chatter that fills the air. You can hear it all. You can see it all. Feel it all.

You keep your grip tight on Amber and reach for the door with your other hand, ready to open it and all the other doors that come after it. You don’t want to hide anymore. You want to fly.

🕊️🕊️🕊️

I just want to thank everyone who has followed along on Dove's journey. It was bumpy and took a while, and it definitely took a lot out of me (in a good way). I hope you enjoyed this.

Until next time 💗

#andy barber #steve kemp #dark andy barber #dark steve kemp #dark!andy barber #dark!steve kemp #andy barber x reader #steve kemp x reader #series #don't speak #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #librarian au #defending jacob #fresh

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ghostlychief · 8 months

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first off love your writing !!!!!! I was wondering if I could get a story about ghost where the reader is pregnant and they’re doing the baby shower and it turns out to be a boy and ghost is extremely happy???💞

thank you so much!!! apologies for such a late reply, I know you sent this in awhile ago. hope you enjoy <3

---

beautiful boy

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

wc: ~620

warnings: none; fluff

---

You’re currently upstairs, laying on your bed, with a ribbon held in between your hands. A soft smile graces your lips as you look down at the baby blue material, thinking about the little bean growing inside of you.

Your baby shower was today, and in fact, is still going on downstairs. You hear the muffled chatter amongst your guests throughout your house from upstairs, and a feeling of gratefulness washes over you. You’re currently five months pregnant, and as much as you love a good party, your feet were aching after standing for hours, hence the reason why you are currently in your bedroom and not downstairs with everyone else. You came up to rest only for a short bit, before you head back down and join everyone again.

You opted to wear a light yellow babydoll dress, wanting to be neutral for the gender reveal. You honestly did not have a preference, and were just ecstatic that you were expecting, and celebrating with all of your close friends and family. The light yellow, and the cut of the dress complimented you well, making your complexion glow, and highlighting your ever-growing baby bump.

Simon was speechless for a minute or two when you finally popped out of your bathroom, showing him your finished look before all of the guest arrived for the party. After his momentary pause stuck in awe, Simon breathed out, “You look absolutely beautiful,” and wrapped you in a warm hug. It was a quiet and intimate moment you guys shared before your house started filling up with guests.

Simon also decided to dress neutral but as your eyes moved up and down assessing his outfit, you noticed the subtle blue socks covering his feet. You always knew he wanted a baby boy, but you knew he would be happy and grateful for a girl or boy, just as long as you and baby were healthy. It’s just one more thing that makes you love him as much as you do.

You decided not to comment on the socks, and simple beamed at him saying he looked just as handsome as when you first met.

The gender-reveal itself went smoothly, and of course Simon was over the moon that you were having a baby boy, and since then, the quiet grin that bloomed on his face has not left.

The memory of the reveal plays over in your mind, and you’re lost in thought as you stare at the ribbon. You’re unaware that Simon has entered the room until you feel the bed dip behind you. Simon lays behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and his hand gently rubs on your bump. He rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at the blue fabric you’re holding. He leaves a kiss on your shoulder, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his embrace envelops you, and you feel tears start to form in your waterline.

You bring your hand up to rest over his that’s still on your tummy, and you manage to choke out, “I haven’t even met him yet, but I know that he’s going to be the most beautiful boy.” You lightly sniff, and the tears finally fall down your cheeks. Simon reaches over you to catch your tears with his thumb, and he gently caresses your face, giving you a kiss on your temple.

“I know, sweetheart.” He leaves another kiss on your temple, “You are his mom, after all. Of course he’s going to be beautiful.” You let out a laugh, and squeeze his hand.

Simon and you continue to stare at the blue ribbon, committing this day to memory, and dreaming of what’s to come.

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fantasyandshit · 9 months

Text

You drive me crazy

Type:Oneshot

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Yn decides to wear pheromone perfume to work to see how her boy genius boyfriend will react.

(A/n, I've never worn pheromone perfume, I'm just going off my imagination and those ads that are most likely exaggerated beyond belief.)

"Finally." I pull the small cardboard box into my arms and scurry to my counter after closing and locking my apartment door, quickly slicing through the tape with a pair of scissors. I had ordered a pheromone perfume from an ad the other day, I knew it probably wouldn't do anything more than smell good but I decided there was no harm in seeing what it could do to my boyfriend, Spencer Reid.

I pull the small vial from its case and inspect the clear liquid, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to my nose. “Hm, smells good.” I shrug as I put the cap back on and put the vial in the case, excited to try it out tomorrow.

—Time skip—

As I walk through the glass doors of my work, heading to the elevator with a cardboard tray of coffee in each hand, male secretary’s and security guards that I’ve never spoken to before greet me with warm smiles and friendly waves. ‘Hm, maybe it does work?’ I think to myself as I step out of the elevator and to the room of desks on the seventh floor.

“Hey mama.” I look over at the voice, Derek Morgan making his way towards me, eyes set on the coffee in my hand. As he nears he seems to pause for a moment, “man you smell good today. New perfume?”

“Uh yeah.” I laugh as I pass him his coffee, “black with three sugars and a splash of cream. Just how you like it.”

“You are the best, thank you so much.” He leaves with a kiss in my cheek, something he knows I hate, and I know he knows because he dashes off like there’s a suspect we’re chasing.

“Hey cupcake!” A very cheery Penelope greets me next as I set my bag at my desk.

“Hey Pen. Here is your coffee.” I grab the cup closest to me, and pass it to her, “light brew with sweet cream, two pumps of vanilla, with whipped cream, and sprinkles on top.”

“Thank you sunshine, you always know what I like! Also did you get a new perfume? You smell great today!”

“Thank you.” She nods and practically skips off, talking to Derek halfway to her cave, whatever the conversation is ends with a playful slap to the man’s cheek.

After everyone but Spencer has been given their coffee, and I’ve been complimented more than I care to count, I make my way to my desk, looking to my phone to see a text from my boy genius.

❤️ Boy genius ❤️

Hey love, I’m on my way. Can’t wait to see you today. ❤️

Hey baby, I’ll see you soon. Love you. 🥰

I smile at my phone before putting it away, excitement burning in my veins as I practically bounce in anticipation to see how Spencer will react to my new perfume.

—

The elevator dings as Spencer steps out, clad in his usual sweater vest, kaki pants, converse and mid-matched socks, messenger back hanging off his left shoulder. I of course don’t notice as my back is turned, waiting for some papers of mine to print. I startle as I feel hands wrap around my waist, a chest pressed to my back and a face buried in my neck. “Hello love.”

“Hi baby.” I smile as Spencer’s voice fills my ears and his breath hands my neck as he sniffs right at my pulse point.

“You smell good today.”

I giggle as he nips at my ear, swatting his shoulder, “thanks, I got a new perfume.” I think that’s the end of it however I realize I’m wrong when Spencer’s face doesn’t move from my neck and I feel him kissing all along the side of it. After a particularly hard suck to my sweet spot, I bite my lip to stop my moan and swat at him again, “Spence, stop. We’re at work, there are people around.”

The man in question grumbles but ultimately moves, and I turn around to face him, “What did you change? It feels like more than your perfume?”

“Oh nothing. Really, I just used a special perfume today.”

His hands snake around my waist again, this time coming to rest on my thighs, our chests touching as I look up at him through my lashes. “What kind of special perfume?”

“Oh you know,” I pause, eyes following my fingers as I walk them up his chest, booping his nose before falling down to wrap around his forearms, “just the pheromone kind.”

His eyebrows raise, “Oh? So you’re teasing me at work?” He brings his mouth to my ear, “I think that calls for punishment, don’t you brat?”

I let out yet another small yelp as his hand lands a small smack in my ass. “No sir.” He raises his eyebrow, “I mean, I just wanted to smell good.”

“I don’t think so baby,” his hand slides to my face, rubbing my cheek bone softly, “I think you wanted to be a tease, and you will be punished when we get home tonight. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” he leaves one last kiss on my lips before walking to his desk to begin working. After a few more seconds of standing stunned I turn to the printer, grab my papers and do the same.

I already know I’m in for it when we go home tonight, the thought making me gulp.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #penelope garcia #derek morgan #pheromones #pheromone perfume #oneshot #x reader

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fartcushion · 4 months

Text

Lockdown Bubble - Part 3

For the rest of the weekend we hung out on the sofa, watching TV with the occasional hook up when the mood came over Antony. I was even made to come one of those times, but the rest were Antony focused even though he seemed to have forgotten the conversation he had the morning before and just focused on blow jobs. He only farted absent mindedly and didn't comment on them. Although it would often be as he sat next to me, which meant I still had to endure their foul odour.

That night when we went to bed though, Antony was after more. "You've been so good this weekend, I really can't complain about having a whore on call. That mouth of yours". He leant forward and kissed me hard. His hands reached round and grabbed my ass, "but now I want this".

My heart started to beat faster. We hadn't had full sex yet and I was nervous about it. Antony was much more experienced, where as I'd only done it a couple of times and that was years ago. "Oh, yeh, great...but please, go slow..."

"Go slow, I've waited two days!" Antony jokingly mocked but before I could speak he kissed me again. "Of course I will".

He started to take my clothes off. I reached to take off his t-shirt but he pushed my hands away, "Not yet. I want to see you strip first". I felt my cheeks blush as I kicked off my socks and wriggled out of the jeans. It left me stood there in a tight pair of Aussiebum briefs, he leant back and took me in and made the spin gesture with his finger. I span around, feeling a bit silly, but was complimented by the noises of approval Antony made. I bent over and took off the briefs and was about to toss them aside when he reached out and took them. He held them to his nose and had a big sniff.

"Aw, they smell clean. After time around my junk and ass mine won't smell like this", and with that he started to strip. As he took off his shirt revealing the beefy body, he pushed my head to his belly. "Mmm, worship me, boy"

I kissed his stomach and licked around the nipples to his moans of delight. He then pushed down so I was sitting on the bed while he carried on stripping. As he pulled his trousers off I saw he was still wearing the same boxers he'd been wearing since I'd arrived two days ago. I hadn't noticed since I'd seen them at breakfast yesterday, as either we'd stripped so quickly or Antony had just pulled his cock out through his jeans fly.

"They're not the same boxers you've had on all weekend?"

Antony looked annoyed. At being called out, or for being interrupted, I wasn't sure. "What? I've not been anywhere. Besides, I just said mine wouldn't smell good. Days of me lounging around, they'll have absorbed all that sweat, every drop of piss that I didn't fully shake off, and any left over cum that dribbled out." He must have seen my look of revulsion because he smiled and grabbed my head, pulling my face in to his bulge.

"That's it. Sniff that crotch. Can you smell it". He pushed my head down and lifted his foot up to the bed to give me access. "Smell my balls, faggot".

I tried to pull away. The smell was rancid. A couple of days without showering was one thing, but this was beyond that! Antony worked from home so who knew when they'd actually been last changed!

"Come on, take a big sniff and I'll let you go. I want to hear you enjoy my stink"

As I couldn't break free of his grip, and my neck was being awkwardly pulled down to get up in Antony's ball and taint area, I felt desperation beginning to take over.

*sniff* *sniff*

"Oh that's not nearly enough! Come on, pig, a big long sniff"

"Come on, I did it! Let me go". I pleaded. But it fell on deaf ears. Annoyed at not getting what he wanted right away, Antony decided to punish me. He pulled my head out but held on tight. Dropping his leg and spinning round in one smooth action, I wasn't prepared when my face was slammed into his ass. Straight between the cheeks. Only having an instant to see the patch of sweat that ran up the crack line.

"Now you can appreciate the back of them instead. I was going easy on you. But now it's the days worth of farts, and sweat from my swamp ass". Antony had a nice big ass, but from here it looked and felt massive. My face was wedged in and I could barely see past the the big fat cheeks to Antony's face looking back at me.

The smell was so much worse. It smelt like an uncleaned toilet. I tried to get a bit of space to get fresh air, but I was held still.

"Three big sniffs! One for implying I'm a slob. A second for making me take time away from fucking that ass to punish you. Finally a long third one, so I know how much you love my smell."

I had to get out. Each breath was an assault, and my nose hurt from being slammed against his ass.

*SSSNNNIIIFFF*

I had to pause, it was making me feel sick.

"Only two? This how you say you don't like my smell?!" I can't have a slave that doesn't worship every thing about me. Now a big long sniff of my ass, one last time, and when you're done say thank you!"

I bracesd myself. Until now I'd been taking shallow breaths to stay conscious but now my lungs needed oxygen. One more was all it'd take to be freed.

*SSSSSNNNNNIII-

*PPPPRRRRRRBBBBBRRRR*

-IIFFFFF*

Antony had prepared a huge fart for the third sniff. As soon as he heard his victim taking that breath he pushed with all his might. He burst out laughing as I flailed desperately trying to pull back, yanking at his wrist that held my head.

I had been halfway through the sniff when I felt it. A rush of wind followed by the stink of an open sewer. I could feel it's warmth on my face. I could feel sick starting to come up my throat and had to swallow frantically. I felt the hold loosen enough for fresh air to get in and let me speak.

"Oh god that's horrible. Let me up!"

"I want to hear the thank you first"

"Thank you!"

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for letting me smell your stink!"

Antony let go and turned back round. His cock was erect and poking out above the waistline. As he took off the boxers I filled my lungs with the cleaner - for the fart still lingered in the room - air. "Your farts are disgusting. That was disgusting!"

His face darkened. His cock was harder than I had ever seen it. Standing fully erect, throbbing and veiny. He pushed me down whilst spinning me round so I was lying face down. Bent over the bed with my ass exposed and ready.

"How dare you speak to me like that! I know what you faggots are for, and it's to worship me. Pig out on what I give you. And be a fucking cum slut"

He pulled my hair to lift my face off the bed and, as I cried out in pain, stuffed his boxers in my mouth. I could taste the sweat, and prayed I was tasting the front and not the fart covered back. Before I could spit them out my face was slammed back down.

Antony teased my hole with his finger and started to probe inside. He spit on the hole and worked the saliva in. I grimaced and tried to relax for what came next, I could feel his hard fat cock pressing against me. I moaned in pleasure as he continued to finger me, adding another finger as he went. He spat in his other hand and rubbed it over his cock, then pulled his fingers out and spat on my hole again. This time he used the pale head to push it in. He fell forward and used his weight to force his way inside of me. There was excruciating pain and I bit down hard on the boxers and let out a muffled cry.

Antony paused to let me adapt to the sensation and I prayed that it was all in and I could just lie there and take a quick fuck. But as Antony reached and pinned my arms to the bed I realised it wasn't. He thrust hard and I felt it hit deep inside, sending more pain through my body. I tried to breath through the pain but just got more of the smell of Antony's boxers and a taste of the salty sweat and tangy piss that soaked them.

He ploughed away without any concern, holding me down and grunting.

"That's it bitch. This is what you wanted. Begging to my bubble, so I'd fuck this bubble butt. Any bottom would beg to take this cock and not give me any lip" he fucked more aggressively as he reminded me of all my insubordination.

"Like my boxers now? You're going to learn to love my smells. Be a good pig for me, or I'll find a faggot who will and you can go back to your lonely flat!"

I moaned and moaned. Anthony was hitting the spot, but it was all too hard. I tried to listen to what was being said but the pain was so intense, I had to focus on relaxing best I could. I managed to hear, "Well, do you like how my boxers smell now?!"; and, not wanting to cause any more aggression, nodded. I made big show of lifting my head and burying my face in the part still outside my mouth.

"Oh fuck! There's my pig boy. Sniff them up. I'll make more for you don't worry". This seemed to satisfy Antony who went quiet and focused on fucking. Shortly after my arms were released as Anthony grabbed my hips and pulled himself as far in as he could get as he made his final thrusts. He exploded inside me then just lay down, letting his bulk fall on me, his cock softening in my ass, panting in my ears as he caught his breath.

"Oh that was what I needed. Did you enjoy that?". I nodded. He pulled out and lay on his back. "You can take these out now." And he pulled the boxers out of my mouth, then threw them to the floor.

"That was... intense." I managed to get out. "I...er....better just deal with this" and gestured to my open hole that was oozing cum, rushing off to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet lost in thought. That had been scary, but Antony had said he liked powerplay maybe that was what it was. I could just discuss it with him and we'd find what we both liked. I was sure of it. No need to end it now on a misunderstanding. I finished up and went back to the bedroom, and found Antony had fallen asleep. 'Oh well' I thought, 'I'll mention it in the morning'. Besides, how much worse could it get than that fart to the face?

#eproctophilia #gay eproctophilia #male farts #face fart #fart kink #fart story

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stillxnunpxidintern · 6 months

Text

Marco x Fem Reader - Pretty Bird

Mature content/18+, off screen consent, roleplay.

Modern Au, DF are still a thing but only appear once.

Opening the door to the two story house, You could tell something didn’t feel quite the same as when you left this morning. Instead of worrying about it at the moment you kicked off the heels and instantly felt better as your feet were flat on the plush carpet, what felt great on your poor aching feet.

Dropping your bag on table by the door you closed the door and locked it properly before double checking it, as Halloween was only a few days and some people tended to act trying to scare people just cause they thought it was funny, especially in the neighbourhood that you lived. You had locks and alarms on most of the widows and doors better safe than sorry, especially now that a very large family had been settled with in the town for a few months now, the Newgates.

Most of the family members that you had met so far were nice but there were some members that you've met, you swore that they were trying to give you gives headaches.

Moving to the couch you sunk down on to the monster of couch you own. It was so soft that it 'ate' anyone who sat on it but you loved it and it acted as a second bed sometimes, mostly when you're to exhausted after a busy day at the hospital.

You took off you outer top, skirt and tights discarding them somewhere behind the couch, you would deal with picking up them at later.

Grabbed a pair of warm thigh high sock from the end of the couch, you pulled them on to keep your legs somewhat warm and to wear under the oversized jumper you grabbed and pulled on.

After relaxing on the couch on for a few minutes, your stomach made a gurgle so you standing up you headed into the kitchen to heat up some leftovers for dinner and pour yourself a glass of wine.

Back on the couch with your dinner and wine, you began searching through the channels for something to watch and ended up watching a documentary about pirates and forget about the few arseholes that you had dealing with at work. You really wanted to punch them but that meant more paperwork and there was enough paperwork that was building up on your desk.

The only good thing that came out of it was Law had come out of his office shouting and threatening them all, which saved you from a massive headache.

After dinner was eaten and thinking your glass of wine you felt so much better and more relax, so grabbing a blanket thrown you threw it over your legs, as you watched tv and scrolled on your phone.

A couple of hours later you were in the kitchen looking to see what else you had that to snack on when you heard the creaking of the floor boards that caught your attention.

Thinking it was probably just your cat jumping from the bed to the floor and vis versa, as he was a bigger breed he tended to make noise when jumping off & on your bed. So with that you paid little attention it and went back to watching the TV with a bowl of crisps in hand.

About half an hour later you could hear more creaking but this time louder so it couldn't be your furry little man this time, so placing the bowl of crisps down you moved from the couch and went to grab the bat that was by the stairs. Grabbing the bat you held it firmly in hand and began to walk up the stairs to find the cause of the creaking.

When you were on landing it only took a few seconds before you grabbed by the wrist and had the bat was pulled from your hand thrown to the round with a thud, before finding yourself being shoved against the wall while both wrists were held behind your back in one large hand.

The other hand gripped your hair tightly as your captor put their nose in your hair and took a sniff before pulling your head backward just a little.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you watching me, Pretty bird-yoi” a very familiar voice spoke into your ear before pulling your head back even more so blue eyes met yours, “Well isn’t this just a pretty site” he mocked.

"Marco" You growled at him

"Hello Pretty bird" he answered, "Did you honestly think you could get away from me-yoi" he purred.

He released your hair from his grip and his free hand worked it ways under your jumper began to wonder up and down your body, groping and stoking you, making you stomp your foot on top his in an attempted to get away from him but that only succeeded in you being pushed harder against wall.

“That wasn’t very nice now was it Pretty Bird” he said as his hand went lower and slipping into your under making you stiffen, “Let’s see how loud I can make you beg” he chuckled, as you began to struggle even more to try and escape his hold.

“Get off me or…I’ll scream” you cried, as his fingers stroked and dripped inside making you shudder and breathe harder.

“Oh don’t you worry Pretty Bird, you'll be screaming my name soon enough-yoi” Marco murmured into your ear before pulling his hand out and dragged you toward the bedroom.

Panicking you quickly slam your leg in his shin in attempted to get away and was relieved when his grip on loosen enough that you could break free of the hold and kicked him again, this time in the stomach making him double over.

That gave you a few precious seconds to get away from Doctor and get somewhere safe, away from Marco maybe Shanks house.

You managed to get passed him and made it to the 2nd step down before being pulled backward by your jumper and you land with a thud on the wooden floor.

"Thinking of going somewhere Pretty Bird" Marco growled, eyes flashing blue in anger "I was going to be nice but now I think someone deserves be punished-yoi" he told you.

He was able to change your positions easily and pinned you to the floor with your arms being held behind your back once again and tried to wiggle free but Marco used his strength to keep you in place.

Reaching into his pocket Marco pulled a length of rope out and tied it around your wrists tightly, making give a little whimper as the rope bite in you skin. After tying the rope he then pulled your underwear off, leaving your ass bare to him.

"Oh you won't be getting away this time, as these knots will make sure you can't get free somehow, so you're mine for the taking Pretty Bird" he laughed at you, watching as you tried to to free yourself from the rope.

"Get the hell off me you bastard" You cursed at him, "You're going to pay for this"

"Maybe" he chuckled, before bring his hand down on your ass cheek causing you shriek, "But I'm going to enjoy making you scream all night-yoi" he said smacking the opposite cheek.

"You're a dead man again when I get free" You promised, which resulted in Marco chuckling more.

While you was still cursing at him and still trying to free your wrists, the doctor slipped two fingers making you moaned before coming back to your senses.

"You...utter....bastard" you cried out, as the blonde doctor pressed against your clit, making your hips rocking against his hand.

"I might of believed you, if you weren't moaning like a little whore-yoi" he commented, feeling you tighten around his fingers before pulling them out and you unintentionally let whine at that.

Hearing that whine had Marco chuckling and while you were recovering from that, he grabbed your wrists and dragged you to the bedroom, locking the door stopping you from escaping.

---------

"What the hell did you do last night, Marco could barely keep his eyes at the family lunch" Ace asked, appearing next to you with Thatch by his side and you just drunk tea while looking at them both.

"Do you really want to know" you answered, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I can deal without details, thank you" Thatch said sitting next to you as Ace sat opposite, "I know far more of siblings bedroom life than I would like"

"Well he decided to added something to our game I didn't know about on a whim and I made sure he won't do it again do it again" you explained him with a small smirk gracing lips, setting down the cup.

"That as much as I like know, I don't need or want to know anymore of yours and Marco activities" Ace said, with a slight look of disgust of knowing about one of his brother sexual activities.

"You both might actually get an idea or two if did listen to us" you teased them

That got you an unimpressed look from Thatch as Aces cheeks turned red at that, so he grabbed your muffin and left, which made you laugh at his action.

"I'm sure your brother is more than willing to help you, he's very knowledgeable in that department" you shouted to him, still laughing which Thatch also joined in on now and got flipped of by him before he sent a little ball at you both, as he stuffed your muffin in his mouth in one go.

You watched until he was out of view before turning to Thatch and had a nice little conversion as you finished your tea of with a smile on your lip.

As you got to have amazing sex regularly now with hot and amazing Doctor, you also got to tease Marco siblings whenever you liked these as cause they liked to cause you headache so it only seem fair.

#One piece #Marco the Phoenix #Reader #Marco x Reader #Marco the Phoenix x Reader #portgas d ace #Thatch #One piece thatch #one piece ace #Ace #marco the pineapple #Whitebeard piates #Marco the fineapple

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fountainpenguin · 1 month

Text

"Build high the walls, build strong the beams... A new life is waiting, but danger's no stranger here..." (x)

Platypus Bird: Free to Good Home

Half Hidden AU Guide

❤️ Read on AO3

🧡 T - 5k words

💙 Blog tag - #Half Hidden AU

💚 More MCYT AUs

On the other hand… Sniff had finally settled down a little, and Grian didn’t have a clue where to find a dummy for his mouth. He almost drowned, you know. And from his point of view, he basically got abducted by aliens. A little thumb-sucking would probably be okay. Joe poked in his head then and, with Grian’s permission by proxy, snipped off a lock of the baby’s hair. It looked pretty pale, the color of pancake batter, though the hair around his ears suggested it might darken with age. Sniff started. Joe gave his head a soft stroke and addressed the baby, not Grian, with his next words: “I’ll ask around the human towns. I might be able to dig up information on your parents. Your dad sounds like a nasty guy, but if I find your other parent, I’ll let you know. Okay?” Sniff sucked his thumb, mute as a snail.

In which Grian and Joel, having saved a newborn sniffer hybrid from drowning, go through the basic motions of "What comes next?" - Like childproofing the floating foster home.

Character and lore study for an urban fantasy "Hermits avoiding humans" mob hybrid AU

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

🏠 🌗 🌲

SnifferMyFeet was not an accident, though Joel and Grian swore they’d never tell him that. “We think your parents lost you in a storm; we never found them,” sang sweeter than “Your mother’s out of the picture and we watched your father throw you in a river when you were three weeks old.”

Or maybe Sniff had two fathers. We shouldn’t assume; the hate crime could be diverse. They hadn’t asked for details while struggling to rescue the burlap sack from snot-thick water, but the anti-hybrid slurs the human on shore spluttered out painted a nasty picture as it was. Joel tried to bite him. That probably didn’t help The Hybrid Agenda, but Grian would’ve bit him too if he hadn’t been coughing up sluggish brown water and bits of sand and kelp.

So, you know… SnifferMyFeet joined the party. Xisuma sighed when Grian brought the baby in. Less about the paperwork and more about the general cruelty of the world (One would hope). He pulled his gloves higher on each hand, so you knew red tape was about to hit the table. And it did. Xisuma better aligned his helmet, then dragged a wobbly chair to his too-tall desk.

“Right. So… Were you followed?”

“No,” Grian murmured. “We cut through Joel’s dad’s territory.” Across the creek, around the brambles, and straight through the ambiguous flats that everyone claimed housed a skunk mating ground, but Grian swore stunk like sulfur. Then past Doc’s perimeter and you take a wander through Scarland, which is hands-down a must-see on any escape from a human encounter. Don’t put children down for a sec to look at stuffed Jellie cats. You will either lose them or bury them alive.

“And where is Joel now?”

“Warm shower. Slowly, I hope. He was in that ice water for a while.” And it always clung so heavy in his fur. Once, on a wild stunt Grian would rather forget about, he and Joel spent two weeks together living with the wolf pack where Joel had been born. No father to speak of (I mean, obviously), though Joel always claimed the alpha male treated him like a son.

Anyway, winter blew fiercer winds than either of them expected. Joel slipped on the ice. It cracked beneath his butt and dumped him in the lake. Grian spent a whole weekend bringing back his health while Joel lit TNT in place of campfires and felt real sorry for himself. Well, he was Joel, so it was probably a #No Regrets sort of thing, but… still. You should’ve seen his gray-brown fur soaking wet all down his arms and legs. His tail could’ve been a sewn-on sock and he wouldn’t’ve been the wiser.

“Ah.”

“Ick-‘suma, it’s a hybrid. The dad—The parents—I mean… We didn’t see the mum.”

“You’re bleeding…”

“Oh. Yeah. He shot me. Joel too. Joel a lot.” Red dots stained the red and yellow leaves.

Sniff’s huffs turned to whines. Grian stood, holding the baby to his chest so the legs dangled down, and bounced on his toes. He used to do this with Junior. It sometimes helped. He spun a circle and murmured poems and lyrics and little things. And Joe Hills, sitting backwards on a chair, commented lightly that the humans were getting bolder; Sniff’s debut wasn’t the first time they’d been spotted at the river. The Hermits might have to move again.

“Good,” Grian muttered back, cradling the straining infant to his chest. He’d have to ask around in case anyone had a baby sling. Zedaph sometimes used them to carry mobs around, especially while delivering them by air. Grian shifted his arms to adjust the weight distribution, but the baby didn’t really get that Grian couldn’t suckle, so that was a whole thing. Hm. NPC never pestered him for milk. Ariana and Victor did, though.

Anyway, “I don’t want to live near humans if they can’t sort their issues out. Right… I’m taking a break. This little guy needs me more than anyone. Come get me when the season turns.”

“Are you sure?” Xisuma asked him softly. “I’m just worried about you getting burned out. You’re already raising 6.”

“Right. Who better to take him in than me?”

Through the tint of Xisuma’s helmet visor, Grian caught a flicker of eyelashes slipping shut. One finger tapped his table. Twice. Just twice. He asked Joe to step out for a minute. The eternally ambiguous hybrid bowed with a flourish and vanished through the door like a ghost. Grian felt his feathers puff. Water dribbled through the vanes. But he stayed very still, clutching the baby sniffer hybrid, as Xisuma turned back to him.

“Grian, I’m asking as your pack leader, really for the paperwork, but you don’t have to tell me unless you’re comfortable. Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Empty faces with dark eyes and gaping mouths floated through his vision. Grian’s fingers twitched. “Anyone in the commune, you mean.”

“I didn’t say that.” Gentle. Paper-thin. Grian’s eyes blurred, but he grit his teeth and shifted his weight forward in his chair. His talons snagged against the carpet. Right, and the baby started in his lap. Grian, because he was good at what he did, shushed him with a few soothing pats to the head. Sniff yawned and stretched before curling in his arms.

“I have a mate.” This was unprovable fact to most the Hermits (in the ways that they thought mattered). Just… just… Look. He kept that information private, and that was the the end of this conversation. Xisuma nodded like a panther’s pawsteps, resting two fingers against his nose.

“7 kids is a lot, even for two or three adults.”

Grian’s feathers fluffed up again. “‘ey, listen; I know what you’re getting at. Mumbo and I aren’t dating, but he’s just as committed to Ariana, Grum, and Junior as I am. We’re ‘ride or die.’”

And for the baby’s sake as it fussed against the folds in his soggy jumper, he lowered his voice:

“I’m too much ‘a monster’ to live with humans. I’ll never get to study in their schools or go to conferences or publish my research, right? I do one thing in this world, Ex-ee-zuma: I’m the dad who steps up. I can do this. Parrots form flocks. I’m good at this.”

❤️ Read on AO3

#Grian #SnifferMyFeet #Xisumavoid #fic announcement #Half Hidden AU #ridwriting #I've been listening to this song for 20 years and I was today years old when I found out the lyric isn't “build higher walls”#apparently art #mcyt

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huffle-dork · 9 months

Text

Swap into the CrystalVerse Chapter 14: Fantasy Masks

Co-written with @crystalninjaphoenix

Read Swapboys | Read Fantasy Masks | AO3 Link

Taglist: @brokentimewatch @di-diwata

Dyaki and Henrik take Bro around the edge of the dragon skeleton until they reach the leg bones. Here there is a large campfire, surrounded by pots and pans and utensils and all sorts of foodstuffs. There's a group of people washing up the dishware in buckets of water, and there are a few others sitting around and eating by themselves.

"Maerfin!" Dyaki shouts, running up to one of the solitary people sitting on one of the dragon's leg bones.

The man turns around, notices Bro, and immediately pulls on a cat-shaped mask. Dyaki starts talking to him, going way too fast for Bro to keep up with, while Henrik waits with him off to the side.

Bro lets his eyes wander around the sight. His stomach grumbles, ugh how long ago did he last eat? But, he doesn't want to be rude. Especially since he wouldn't be able to tell if he was rude cuz he can't tell at all what's going on. ...the cat mask looks familiar to him though. But... not sure why.

Henrik chuckles, hearing Bro's stomach grumble. "Bia?" he asks, pointing to the food around the fire.

Then he holds up his hand, one finger extended. "Nóimé ansháin." That probably meant 'wait a second' or something.

Bro flushes in embarrassment and nods sheepishly. He can wait... though it does smell really good...

As Dyaki talks, the man in the cat mask stares at Bro, not even looking at Dyaki as he keeps going. Then a cat jumps onto one of the leg bones. It's mostly white, though its ears and tail are gray, and it has stripes on its face, tail, and legs. It also stares at Bro in a very similar manner, then hops off the bone and walks up to him.

"Didhui, Dracó," Henrik says cheerfully. He looks at Bro. "Dracó, an fiakat."

Bro blinks as the cat comes forward and then he smiles and kneels down offering his fingers to sniff. "Oh, you're Draco then? What a cutie!"

Draco sniffs Bro's fingers and, after a moment, shoves his head at his hand, basically forcing Bro to pet him. Henrik laughs.

Bro laughs too and pets Draco softly.

Dyaki finishes talking with the strange man. He nods, then walks up to Bro. "Didhui," he says.

Bro’s still petting Draco before Dyaki and the new man, Maerfin he thinks? Heads over. Then, he stands back up and blinks at them.

The strange man reaches up and grabs an amulet around his neck. It starts to glow a white light, which he... pulls away from the amulet. That's the best way to describe it, he grabs the light and now has a handful of glowing white light in his hand.

Dyaki hurries over. "Tasé shun cabrú leat... om..." He opens and closes his hands like he's making sock puppets talk.

"Fédfaih liom?" The cat-masked man points at the light in his hand, then at Bro's face.

Bro’s eyes widen slightly as he grabs the light and stares at it. He looks between Dyaki and Maerfin and then makes a face. "Are you asking to blast me in the face? That... doesn't sound pleasant-"

Maefin looks confused at Bro's reaction.

"Ah... ní, ní," Henrik says. "Ní dortódh sé. Am..." He hesitates, then moves his hands in front of his face like something's coming out of his mouth. Then points to his ears. Something about... talking? And hearing?

"Oh! You can help me understand and talk??" Bro's eyes light up and he eagerly nods to Maerfin. "Yeah yeah do it!"

Maerfin looks relieved at Bro's new enthusiasm. He steps up to him and dips two fingers into the light in his hands. He then gently presses his glowing fingertips to Bro's throat, and repeats the process four more times: left ear, right ear, above left eye, above right eye. And he steps back. "Tásil that will noibreidha."

"Chase?" Henrik says. "Can you duigean me?"

"It might take a ansháin," Marvin says. "It's a language from another world."

Chase lets Maerfin do the spell and tries to stay very still. He perks up when he hears Henrik say his name. Then, he jumps up excitedly and points at Marvin, "Oh! OH! I understood that!!"

"Oh thank the Elders," Jackie breathes. "If we had to gesture everything I would've been... really frustrated."

"You would not have the patience," Henrik says jokingly.

"I would not, I would not." Jackie pushes his hood back. "Anyway. You're called Chase, I'm called Jackie, and they are called Henrik and Marvin. And that's Draco. You look just like someone we know, but you're clearly not him. And you can fly. What are you?"

Bro looks so relieved to understand he could cry. He laughs a bit and messes with his hair. "Uh yeah! Im assuming you have a friend named Chase... I'm... kinda him? But, from a different world. But in that world i'm... god you wouldn't know what a superhero was would you?" He muses. "I am... a super human? I have powers that let me be a hero to people in need!"

"Another world?" Henrik repeats, eyes wide. "Fascinating."

"A superhuman must by a type of magic-weilder in that world," Marvin concludes.

"Well if you help people in need you're welcome here." Jackie grins. "That's what we try to do."

"Really??" Bro says with big wide excited eyes, "Oh!! That's so awesome! Do you guys like- save people from dragons?? Or big scary creatures?? Or like- evil enemy armies from enemy kingdoms??"

Jackie laughs. "I wish we had the chance to fight dragons. I'm sure I'd be great at it."

"Jackie," Marvin says, exasperated. "Do you see the size of these bones?"

"I've seen the size of the eye sockets, they're quite big! I could aim for them." Jackie makes a motion like he was jabbing a sword forward, and Marvin rolls his eyes. "But no, there are no dragons here anymore, just bones. And magical creatures tend to be more... hmm... tricksy than aggressive."

"That is not the same in other kingdoms," Henrik mutters.

"Yes, great transition, Henrik, thank you. As for other kingdoms, Glasúil is an island, which makes invasions difficult... from the outside." Jackie's expression becomes serious. "The problem is our ruler, our King."

Bro straightens up and senses the seriousness in the air. "Oh- well... that really sucks. I'm guessing he's a bad guy?"

Marvin barks out a laugh. "That's a mild way of putting it."

"He's done a lot of... things," Jackie says slowly. "Tyrannical things. He's caused the deaths of many people from noble families to mountain villages."

"But we are sure he is an enchanter who has been manipulating people's minds to make him think he is a better ruler and man than he truly is," Henrik adds.

"Which is why we have to camp out here, far away from everyone else," Jackie says.

"Well, the bones are interesting, too," Marvin says. "Magical even in death."

Bro's eyes widen, "Damn... that is a lot..." He glances around the camp. "Jeez... I hope Alt doesn't run into any trouble with that..."

"Alt?" Jackie repeats. "A friend of yours from your home world?"

"Ah kinda-" Bro replies with a laugh, "He's... he's my brother actually. He and... another guy fell into the world with me. Alt is chill but the other guy, Mag- Magnificent... he's bad news."

"Magnificent?" Henrik repeats. "Is that his actual name or is he just being arrogant?"

Bro bursts out laughing and shakes his head, "I mean- that's what he's called but he is very arrogant!"

"Marvin, wasn't that one of the code names you wanted us to use before we came up with the animal idea?" Jackie asks.

"N...no," Marvin says, sounding too defensive for something that's wrong. "That's... idiotic."

"In any case, I suppose you want to find your brother and this other man?" Henrik asks. "How bad is he?"

Bro giggles and raises an eyebrow knowingly at Marvin before continuing. "Ah yeah- if i could i would just find Alt but that's not very responsible for me as a hero..." He messes with his hair again and sighs. "... i mean- he's... pretty bad. He can... control your mind. Turn you into his pet or... make you his puppet. Or- if you're magic.. he'll try to steal it from you to make himself more powerful."

"Steal magic?" Marvin repeats, eyes widening. "I've never heard of--well, in stories, but not in actual spellbooks."

"He sounds like an enchanter," Jackie says. "Like the King. But the magic in your world probably does not comply with the rules here."

"Oh, almost certainly not," Marvin agrees. "They say that the Fair Folk have their own magic, and that's why you must always be respectful, lest you get in the way of an unbreakable curse."

"... Fair Folk? What's-" Bro starts to ask.

Suddenly, someone comes running up to the small group. A redheaded woman, wearing a mask shaped like a floppy eared dog.

"Anna? What is it?" Henrik asks.

She pauses for a moment, breathing heavily. "Chase and Jameson... have returned." She glances at Bro as she says this. "They brought... a visitor. And they want you... and this other visitor... to meet them at the tail."

Bro's eyes widen and then he grins, "Oh! Cool, fantasty other me! Maybe they found Alt!"

"We'll be right there," Jackie says. He looks at the rest of the group. "Well? Let's go?"

"Is it a good idea to let two of the same from different worlds meet?" Henrik asks, a bit worried.

Bro laughs, "Don't worry, I've met like... 5 others Chases' now? It'll be fine. If not a bit weird."

"I think Jair would've foreseen it if there was too much trouble," Marvin says. "Jackie's right, let's go."

As the group starts walking, Marvin looks at Bro and asks, "You don't know about the Fair Folk?"

Bro looks at Marvin and hums in thought, "I mean- sounds like something my aunts would have talked about. Old Irish tales about Fairies and Changelings and stuff- but... those are just stories where I'm from."

"Ha!" Marvin grins. "Faereis? You should never call the Fair Folk that here, they don't like their true name being used. Maybe what's stories in your world are true here. Changelings have not been seen in a while, but they are real. My parents wondered if I was one as a child. But they, along with a lot of the Fair Folk, have retreated to the Wyldwood and their own Faereilynd."

Bro blinks with wide eyes. "Oh well... shit. That's pretty cool-" He laughs, "I wonder how my Aunts would react to knowing those guys were real."

"With caution, hopefully!" Jackie says from farther ahead.

Henrik rolls his eyes. "I am so glad we do not have the Fair Folk in Alterde."

"Don't you have bird people that steal children there?" Marvin recalls. "Only in certain areas!"

"Ooh! Like a harpie!" Bro grins. "huh yeah- maybe it is just... stories back home are real here... that's fucking metal! alright! This is so cool!"

Jackie grins. "Happy you're enjoying our land so far."

It takes a few more minutes to walk along the dragon skeleton to the tip of the tail, the bones getting smaller and smaller. Until-- "Hwaet!" There are two men--one wearing a deer mask and one wearing a rabbit mask--standing at the very end, where the bones only come up to one's knees. With them... is Alt.

Bro brightens as he sees his brother and floats up into the air and then rushes over to see him. "Alt!"

Alt jumps but then laughs and rolls his eyes. "Hi Chase- get out of the sky, you dork! You're gonna give everyone a heart attack!" Then he freezes and panics a bit, "Wait- can you even understand anyone oh god-"

Bro shakes his head with a laugh as he touches down, "Don't worry baby bro! Marvin got me all caught up! It was pretty freaky for a bit though!"

Alt smiles and then looks over at the group coming over. He wants to glitch over but he also doesn't want to scare them. So he walks over.

Bro cocks his head at this though. Alt suppressing his glitches is... strange. He usually doesn't unless there's trouble.

Alt extends his hand to whoever's in front, probably Jackie and tries their greeting," Uh- H-Hwaet! I'm Alt."

Jackie laughs and takes his hand. "Nice to meet you! I see you've picked some stuff up."

"Very good." Henrik nods. "Did you use a translation spell? I wished I had known of those when I first came here. Ah, a free tip, hwaet is very casual so it may not work in all situations."

Alt smiles and nods, though he does look a bit nervous. "Ah- right. Yeah I had something in my pocket- I dunno how well it works compared to what you all use though."

"Wait, Alt? Oh, so Brody is your surname?" Chase says. He laughs. "I thought you were called Altbrodi, that must've been so strange. I promise it's not normal for people to use one's full name here."

Alt blinks back at Chase and then laughs too, "Oh I wondered why you were using my full name! I thought that's just what you do here!"

"Your brother already attacked everyone's hearts, by the way," Marvin says. "I could hear it from the camping fire."

At Marvin's comment, Alt hits Bro on the arm and Bro exclaims and rubs his arm.

"Ow! What the hell, Alt?!"

Alt just glares at him with a pursed lip.

It's nice to meet you, Jameson signs. To Bro, it looks like there are floating white words beneath his gestures, his own personal subtitles. But Alt doesn't see anything of the sort.

Bro blinks at seeing Jameson sign and then he points excitedly, "Oh! What!! I can see like- subtitles for your signs!! Is that your magic?? That's so cool!"

Alt blinks in confusion and stares at Jameson's hands but doesn't see what he's seeing. "...what are you talking about...?"

"Oh. Oh! Oh you used a different translation spell!" Marvin gasps, looking excited. "Fascinating! I only know of the one! Whatever you used must not account for nonspoken languages. If you want, I can help you see what your brother is seeing."

Jameson laughs, making no sound. If you could, Marvin, I would love to be involved in the conversation.

Alt blinks and then smiles sheepishly at Marvin, "Uh... yeah if you could? I've been feeling really bad that I don't know what Jameson's saying..."

"Yeah, we're going to be having a conversation, alright," Chase mutters. "You said you just wanted to learn how to hunt."

I did. The vision gave me an opportunity.

Bro looks excited, looking between Chase and Jamie, "Oh hunting! That sounds exciting! ...why don't you want him to hunt, other me?"

Marvin smiles. "Alright." He does the same thing as before, grabbing light from the amulet. "I have to touch your face for a moment, sorry." He gently presses his glowing fingertips to the spots above Alt's eyes. "You should be able to read and interpret handspeak now."

Alt nods and tries not to glitch or move as Marvin touches him. He looks relieved when he can understand Jameson and then nods back to Marvin, "Thank you."

"No, I do want him to learn how to hunt, I'm just--there were false pretenses," Chase says grumpily.

"What do you...oh." Jackie's eyes widen. "You mean--oh."

Jameson looks at Bro and Alt cautiously. I'm okay with telling them. They're not from here.

"Even though Alt sort of looks like... him?" Marvin asks.

"Wait, he does?" Jackie asks.

Alt blinks at all of them, "...I look like- who?"

Marvin purses his lips. "You... bear a resemblance to the King."

"Does he?" Henrik asks. "Jameson?"

He does, but it's not important, he isn't him, Jameson says. I saw that clearly.

Alt feels the dread from Marvin and swallows nervously, "... ah... I'm guessing that's... not the best. The king is a jerk, then? ...fucking figures..." He mutters, crossing his arms and blowing his bangs out of his face.

"As Jackie said earlier, that's a mild way of putting it," Marvin says. "The King is a tyrant trying to hold Glasúil in an iron grip. And some of us have more... personal grievances."

But you are not him, Jameson says. Anyone would understand.

"Yea, a surface resemblance isn't much to go off," Marvin agrees.

"And most people wouldn't even realize," Jackie adds. "I didn't. I've never seen the King in person."

Alt nods, though his gut still kinda churns at the thought. Chalk that up for another 'evil' him in the books... god. Bro goes to squeeze Alt's shoulder and gives him a warm smile, helping the glitch calm down some. "Alright then, what did you wanna tell us then, Jameson?"

I saw you two arriving, Jameson says. You have your own magics, mine is to see the future.

"He's an oracle," Chase sums up.

I knew Alt would show up in the woods by himself, and if he stayed by himself, he would wander off far from civilization, Jameson continues. So I told Chase we should go hunting around the time he would appear.

Alt makes a face thinking, "huh... i guess i probably... would have done that..."

Bro laughs, "Smart thinking then! What a cool power Jameson!"

"I would have appreciated being told that from the start," Chase says.

I'm... sorry. I'm still having trouble feeling... able to share.

Chase sighs. "It's fine, Jameson, don't worry about it," he says softly.

Jameson smiles weakly at Bro. Thank you. It's very rare, and I can't exactly control it, but it can be useful.

"Anyway, changing the conversation," Jackie says. "Are you two cold? Maybe your clothes are warmer than they look, but nights get cool up here in the mountains and you might need more."

"Not to mention if you do not want to be stared at," Henrik adds, gesturing at Bro's bright orange jacket in particular.

Alt and Bro exchange glances. Bro then laughs and picks at his torn shirt. "God to be honest ive been wanting to find another shirt to wear from like 3 worlds now! So yeah- something warmer would be great!"

"Oh! We can even let you have some masks, if you want to blend in!" Jackie says excitedly.

Alt seems to perk up at the masks. He's been missing his a lot. But, he does grip onto his jacket protectively. "... i mean... blending in is probably our best approach... who knows how long it'll take us to find Mag now... and.. I guess it is kinda cold..."

"It's cuz rips are cool in the modern world- but here it just kinda- makes you colder." Bro chuckles.

"What? It's appealing? Why would you want to damage your clothes?" Chase asks, confused. The others react similarly. "That would just make them wear out faster!"

Bro laughs and shrugs, "In our world- clothes have been stable for a while, we don't even handmake them anymore. So- having them distressed is cooler- more punk. I like it cuz if i forget my supersuit then i'm not restricted if i wear jeans!" He lifts up to his legs to show his ripped jeans as if its proving his point.

"We're not one to question the rules of other worlds," Marvin decides. "Just to help them learn ours." He pauses. "Though I am curious as to how your ear mufflers are glowing..." He says this while staring at Alt's headphones.

Meanwhile, Draco approaches Alt, rubbing against his legs.

Alt blinks and then holds his headphones, "oh... they have... lights in them. from lightning... i guess? and i can use them to listen to music- but probably not... now." He then yelps slightly in surprise as Draco rubs up against him and he glitches back some. But, then his eyes widen and he smiles genuinely really big, eyes shining. "Oh hello there!" He bends down to try to pet the cat.

The group starts walking back towards the storage.

"Oh, how fascinating," Henrik says. "You put lightning in them and that makes light and plays music directly to your ears. And not making your own clothes--how do you make them, then? With magic?"

"Maybe with more lightning," Marvin says, sounding in awe.

"It's like magic in a way," Alt laughs. "We use machines. So many things are made at once and we just buy them from big... stores. Run by lots of people. Technically with lightning I guess? Electricity is used so... yeah i guess that's a way to put it."

"Elekdrisite," Henrik repeats, trying out the word. "Like... like harnessed lightning. How interesting. How truly interesting."

“Oh yeah! I guess that’s not a word yet- huh…” Alt laughs.

Draco purrs as Alt pets him.

Then Marvin grins. "Draco likes you and your brother. He doesn't usually pay this much attention to other people. Or maybe you smell like another cat."

Alt beams as Marvin says Draco likes him, he looks ecstatic. "Oh you're such a sweet boy, Draco! It's so nice to meet you!" Alt coos, petting Draco and scratching his chin. He laughs, "Maybe he smells my cat Glitches... I'm sure some of her hair is still on my clothes."

"Oh! Those triangles on your ear mufflers, they would make you look like a cat when they're on!" Marvin says.

Alt blinks up at Marvin and grins, putting on his headphones. "yeah! i... i like cats- a lot." He grins bashfully.

"I'm not one to talk," Marvin laughs, playing with the ears of his own mask. "Ghlishes sounds like a good name for a cat." He pauses. "You know, if you want masks, we have cat ones. Or you can try to make your own, I'm sure we still have plaster leftover from making Jair's mask. Ah, Jameson's mask."

Alt’s eyes light up more as he nods eagerly, “oh yes! That’d be so cool!”

"Ooo, what would this new Chase be?" Jackie asks. "Well I feel like he needs a different one to be sure he's not me, so the deer is off-limits for you," Chase says.

"I know we have the rules that doctors are birds, but we should make an exception because of his flying," Henrik suggests.

Bro blinks and then thinks, “huh… I’m not sure what kind of animal I’d be… something- strong. Maybe… a lion?” He shrugs. “Or something fast. That’s what I’m known for. Speed~~!” He grins proudly.

"Laiyon?" Jackie repeats.

"Oh! That is one of the big cats from the south, Nemet told me about them!" Henrik says excitedly. "They have hair around their eyes--wait, no, I mean heads--hair around their heads called a mane." The others burst into laughter at Henrik's mistake.

Rabbits are very fast but unfortunately I have that claimed, Jameson says jokingly. I hear greyhounds are very fast, if you want a speed suggestion.

“Maybe you should be a dog in general, Chase,” Alt teases. “Everyone back home says you have the same energy as Sahne.”

Bro laughs, “That I do! …I dunno if they’d have a golden retriever tho- as fitting as that is. Maybe- a coyote or a.. jackal? …god this is hard!”

"We can be wolf brows if you want!" Jackie suggests, laughing.

"Oh, here's the storage!" Chase says, pointing at the upcoming ribcage. "Come on, maybe it'll help you if we see what masks are already in the supplies."

"Dressing-up time!" Marvin grins. "This'll be fun."

Bro laughs and throws an arm over Alt's shoulder and whoops, "Hell yeah! Dress up time!" Alt can't help but laugh too, following after the others.

-----------

The sun is starting to set over the mountains. The King pauses to measure how close it is to the horizon. "It might be best to stop for the night," he suggests. "The temperature drops quickly after sunset this time of year."

Magnificent grumbles, his feet aching from all the walking. He's regretting every bit of this but, he's gotta keep going. "Alright."

The King raises an eyebrow. "Nothing more to say? I suppose you're not used to all this walking. I did see something in your mind, these metal wheeled things, cars, I believe? Not to mention your ability to appear wherever you wish." He pulls a stick off a nearby tree branch and starts using it to push the autumn leaves into a pile. Kindling for a fire.

Magnificent stretches and then shakes himself out. "Ugh yes... i don't usually... do this much walking if I can help it." He slumps down to sit against the trunk of a tree with a heavy sigh.

The King laughs drily. "Unfortunately you won't be able to help it in this world. Unless we find horses, but if I'm being honest, those can leave you just as tired." He unsheathes his seax knife and points it at the pile of leaves. Lightning arcs from its tip to the pile, instantly setting it on fire. "Can you sustain that while I search for more wood, then?"

Magnificent grumbles at this but nods, keeping an eye on the fire as he crosses his arms.

Luckily, since they're in a forest, it doesn't take too long for them to have a roaring fire. The King sits down near it, feeling the warmth. "If your magic can change your clothes, can it conjure a bedroll or pillows?"

Magnificent hums in thought, "It's usually based on something I have. My clothes are easy enough to change into something new. If I had a mass equal to what we need then... I could. But, I dunno what I could find around here."

"Hmm." The King glances around. "It's true. There's not much of an appropriate size. I suppose we're stuck on the ground, then." He pulls a handful of berries out of a pocket on the inside of his cape; they'd found a bush earlier and he'd taken the opportunity to forage.

Mag grumbles at this and kicks at the dirt. He watches the fire with cat-like eyes, the light reflecting off his slitted pupils. This was too familiar to him... but at least this time he's not starving... and the magic in the air is keeping him going.

The King finishes the meager snack and glances back at Magnificent. He doesn't need to read his mind to read the expression on his face. "What? Does this bring back memories? I can't tell of what, and it's strange that you're reacting like this is familiar. Are there places like this in your world?"

Magnificent visibly flinches and then glares weakly at the king. "...not particularly... I just had- a bad experience. Most humans in modern times don't find themselves lost in the wilderness. Except those who try to do it for 'fun'."

"Modern is relative," the King mutters. "These are modern times in this realm." He chuckles. "In any case, I understand your predicament. You'll be surprised to hear this but it's rare that people here spend time out in the wild. There are wayhouses and inns along the roads for travelers, the only people who avoid them are those who have good reason. Those who are searching for something... or running from something."

Magnificent just barely twitches at the mention of running, curling nails into his jacket. "Huh- I suppose that makes sense. You think of people living in these times as... more barbaric, in a way. I suppose it's just us being so far removed from living in such a time."

"That's not a word I'm familiar with," the King says thoughtfully. "'Barbaric.' I can guess at the meaning, though. Primitive or savage. In my experience, people as a whole don't change as much as you think through the ages."

The mad magician gives a weak chuckle and nods, "I can believe that. Humankind in general is... messy."

“Very.” The King looks at him from the corner of his eye. “And so that’s why you abandon your part in it. Am I correct?”

More fingers curl into the jacket's fabric. He glances his barely at the King before looking away. "Yes. I'm no longer tethered to needless human things... emotions- needs. All I need is magic. It's all I ever needed."

The King nods. "No wonder you enjoyed this world so much. As... inconvenient as much of it is."

Magnificent chuckles, "Yes... I suppose. It's nice to not have to... work to function. In a sense."

The King finds something about that very amusing. He stares at the fire, closing his eyes for a moment. Could he miss a night's sleep? Probably. He didn't yet trust Magnificent while he was sleeping. "Does part of that 'work' include sleep? Or do you still require that?"

"... unfortunately it does." Magnificent sighs. "Haven't quite found a way to go without that... and well- we've been going through world after world... I'm not even sure how many days have passed." He purses his lips at this. The magic in the air is helping to make him feel fulfilled- but he can feel the exhaustion dragging in his bones. "So I guess sleeping is still in order."

"I suppose that makes sense. Sleep is for the mind, not just the body." The King nods. "We will sleep, then. At the same time. If there's a threat, I can detect it."

Magnificent nods. "Reasonable." He flops down to lay on ground, looking up at the canopy. Maybe he'd be more comfortable sleeping in his cat form. ... but is that dignified? He would sometimes at home but- only his panthers knew that.

The King stares at the fire for a while, making sure that it won't go out. Then he also lies down and closes his eyes. As tempting as it is to sleep and see what's waiting, he won't yet.

Once the king lies down Magnificent peeks open and eye and then shifts into his cat form, curling his tail around himself as he settles in to sleep.

The King notices this, of course, but he doesn't move to indicate he does. The night turns quiet.

-----------

"That took longer than expected," Chase mutters, looking out at the setting sun. The group was just leaving the storage room, having found everything they needed. "The sun's getting close to the peaks."

"I did promise your other self food, so we need to head right back to the fire," Henrik chuckles.

Jackie is talking with the other self in question. "Chain mail can be pretty heavy, so don't feel pressured to keep it on all the time. I've had training with it, that's why I do. But I'm not familiar with your world or your magic. Maybe you're stronger than you look."

Bro laughs and flexes, "Nah man it feels pretty good! But, I'll def keep that in mind." He giggles slightly, "This feels really cool. S'like I'm a kid again- pretending to be a knight!"

Bro is wearing a long dull orange and blue tunic, belted at the waist. The orange and blue almost make up a tiled pattern, the colors alternating like patchwork. He has chainmail underneath the tunic and also convinced the boys to let him try on some armor. He has some strapped on his right shoulder and then some leg guards. A white floppy eared dog mask bounces around his neck as he walks, the same symbol on its forehead that Jackie has.

Alt is tying his jacket around his waist, not wanting to part from it. He’s got a long green tunic on with longer sleeves and a big hood, his jacket serving as a belt. Underneath he has his old turtleneck on, the logo covered by the tunic and layers underneath, including a long sleeved shirt. He’s got long thigh high black boots on over baggy dark gray pants.

They also got bags to keep most of their clothes in and Alt had to admit this was way warmer. It's also nice to feel like he's not sticking out like a sore thumb. But... It was also weird. He messes with his own new mask in his hands- a white cat mask like Marvin’s. But, he drew some markings on it- resembling a tiger. Which was fun to explain to the others, they hadn’t heard of one before. And also like Marvin’s, Alt’s mask has the four card suits on its forehead, the mark of a magician.

At the mention of food, Alt's stomach responds in kind and he holds his stomach. "Oh man.. i could eat a whole cow right now.." Alt mumbles.

Bro laughs and nods, "Oh yeah! I'm starving~! We haven't eaten anything since all those snacks at the kids' house." He muses.

Jackie laughs. "We don't have any cows here, unfortunately."

It's pretty rare to find them in the kingdom at all, Jameson says. They need so much space.

"But we do have mutton and venison and rabbit--oops, sorry Jameson." Chase nudges Jameson playfully, who laughs silently. "And some other game. I'm not sure what you're used to eating in your world, but it's very good."

"I think there might even be some stew left from lunch," Marvin says.

"Guys, we're just making them hungrier." Jackie grins. "Let's hurry up and go!"

“Jackie said it! You guys better hurry before I fly over and take it all!” Bro says as he breaks into a jog to try to get farther up on the pack.

Alt laughs, shaking his head. “Honestly anything is good… me and C-Bro, we burn up so many calories using our powers. I’m just worried we might take too much!”

"If you need more than your portion, we have dried fruits and jerky," Henrik says. "Don't worry about us. Two more people will not break our stock."

Alt smiles at Henrik, “well- it’s appreciated. We’ve eaten our friends out of house and home on a bad day.” He laughs.

"Elders, he really is fast, isn't he?" Marvin says, watching Bro run ahead.

"Not faster than me!" Jackie shouts, speeding up.

"I think he is actually faster than you, actually."

Bro does manage to run pretty fast- but he’s not trying to push himself so he lets Jackie catch up, grinning at him.

The cooking fire is surrounded by people--all part of this organization that the others explained was called the Masked Phantoms. A few of them stare at Alt and Bro, but now that Bro is not wearing glowing headphones and Bro doesn't have an unnaturally bright orange jacket, it's a lot less.

At the stares, Alt does feel a bit more self conscious and pulls the hood on his tunic up and slips his mask on. Alt tries to stick with the others, instead of rushing ahead like his brother.

It looks like the food available are dinner rolls, crunchy on the outside and dense on the inside, various game meat from hunted animals, and vegetable stew served in wooden bowls. It smells delicious.

Bro’s quick to grab some food as soon as they arrive, though it takes him a second to figure out how it all works.

The guys all get in line and grab their food. As they do, Chase notices Alt's attitude and leans a bit close. "Don't feel too bad about it, they stared at me for so long when I showed up, and I wasn't all that unusual." He chuckles. "Secrecy is a big thing for these guys so they're all a bit... aware."

Alt seems a bit more at ease after Chase explains. He laughs, “I get it… usually I have a mask to hide my face at home… it’s been weird not having it.” He pats his new one smiling. “…s’nice having one again. Even if it’s different.”

The group finds a place to sit on the end of the leg bones.

As soon as they find a place to sit Bro is digging in. “Oh my goddd this is so good!” He’s definitely talking with his mouth open. Alt elbows him slightly.

"We are glad you enjoy the food," Henrik says, smiling quietly.

Marvin feeds Draco some jerky and asks, "Are there more spare tents?"

"Of course there are, we have so many," Jackie says. He looks at Bro and Alt. "You can even each have your own if you want, but I'm not sure if you will."

At the mention of tents, the brothers share a look. Then Bro laughs and loops an arm around Alt. “Let’s share baby bro! It’ll be like a sleepover!! Just like old times!!”

Alt flushes a bit but he does laugh lightly as he digs into the food. “Okay… but maybe just for tonight.”

“Boooo! You’re no fun!!”

Jackie laughs as he sees Bro and Alt interact. "Okay, I'm glad I didn't make mistakes assuming that. I wasn't sure if siblings would share rooms in your world. When I was growing up, almost all of my siblings slept in the same room."

Really? I had my own room, Jameson says. Then again, I was the only boy.

"Kids in my family were allll different genders, we all stayed together no matter what."

"Must be a difference in childhood," Marvin says. "I had my own room too."

"Oh, you noble people," Jackie mutters, rolling his eyes. "Schneep, Chase, back me up."

"Do not look at me, I didn't grow up in this kingdom," Henrik says. "And I have no siblings, beside."

"If it makes you feel any better, my kids would sleep in the same room," Chase says.

"That does, thank you very much."

Bro laughs, “We shared when we were wee lads. Though our aunts threw a fit about it at first.”

Alt hits Bro on the shoulder, his face bright red.

Bro blinks. “What?? They did! Said our parents were crazy for keeping us together because Alt was a-“

Alt hits again harder, now hiding his face, mask pushed up into his hair.

Bro looks confused then seems to pale. “Oh Jesus Alt I- i wasn’t thinking.”

Alt curls up on the bone he’s sitting on, hiding his face in his hood.

“…we… we got separate rooms eventually though.. but we were together for a while… until I think Alt was 10.” Bro finishes, a lot quieter now.

Jackie blinks. "Oh... were you born in a different name, Alt?”

Alt slowly uncurls and looks up at Jackie with wide eyes. “Born in a different name…?” He whispers.

“Ah, I'm sorry, I've been using [he] this whole time, do you prefer something different? Like 'he' or he?" There's something going slightly off with the translation spell there... it's all translating the same to the brothers' ears but there's supposed to be a difference in the original language. "I'm 'he' myself but I was also born in a different name so I grew up with [she.]"

As Jackie explains, Alt seems to brighten up and he slowly smiles and nods. “Ah yeah… I was. What you’re using is fine… but I also.., yeah… grew up like that.” He blushes and picks at his food. “…I didn’t expect you all to be so accepting here… even back home… some people aren’t… nice. To those who are uh- born in different names.” But then he smiles warmly at Jackie. “But our Jackie, back home? He was also born in a different name. He’d… he’d love to meet you, I think.”

Jackie smiles. "Hah, I'd love to meet him too! It'd be unbelievable to meet another me."

"Tell me about it," Chase mutters, glancing at Bro.

Bro blinks innocently at Chase, his mouth full of food again. He waves.

But it's... hard to believe there are people in your world who are unkind to those who are different, JJ says slowly. Who has the time for something so fundamental?

Alt laughs at Jj’s statement and shakes his head, “I wonder the same…”

Marvin's face darkens. "Then again, there are... damn pricks everywhere."

"Glasúil is a very good place for this, Alt," Henrik says gently. He laughs a little. "It is not a perfect place, but it was very bizarre for me to come here and find that my preference was accepted readily. My parents never approved."

"I hope you've never told them about Vsevna, then," Jackie says teasingly.

"Sh-shut your face." Henrik's own face grows steadily red. "The two of us are not even--"

"Ah, but the point is that those feelings are there in the first place," Marvin says, a grin pulling at his mouth.

Alt giggles at Henrik and Marvin’s banter and finds his cheeks heating up too, thinking about someone back home. “It’s gotten… better. Way better. But, it’s still really hard.“ He shakes his head and tries to laugh it off, “But that’s… too much to get into. This is… a nice breath of fresh air.”

“Literally! The air is so nice here!” Bro adds, waving his hand in the air.

But we're sitting right by the fire? Jameson says, confused. The smoke?

Alt laughs, “It’s an expression.”

“But even by the fire it’s nicer than city air!” Bro adds, “which… is hard to explain. And I don’t want to I’ll just get sad. Alt after this we gotta go camping more- we should bring the guys!!”

Alt laughs and shoves Bro some, “Finish eating, dork. We can plan that kinda stuff later.”

"We need to stop questioning these differences," Marvin mutters, feeding Draco more jerky. "You're going to get fat, Draco. You're already such a big fluffy boy. Why do you even need food if you're a magical being?"

"In any case, I'm glad that you two are... liking it here," Chase says, giving a small smile.

"We'll help you look for your, uh, Magnificent in the morning," Jackie says. "But for now, eat up. Don't worry, this place is safe."

Alt watches Marvin and Draco interact with a smile. But it does fade some as he feels a pang in his heart. It’s… been a while since he had a night without Glitches with him. But he nods to Jackie and soon enough Alt and Bro have ate their fill, enjoying the time by the fire.

The sun sets very quickly after dinner is over, so the guys guide the brothers to the edge of camp where they--remarkably quickly--set up a tent for the two of them before they all head off to their own tents.

As the boys settle in their tent, Alt looks up at the top of the tent and sighs. “…do you think the others have realized we’re gone yet?” He whispers.

Bro shifts and looks at Alt, frowning, “…m’not sure… maybe? Fuck I… I meant to text them when we actually had service but we were always so caught up in shit…”

Alt sighs, “…I just hope Glitches is okay…”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Alt. She’s a tough cat. And you know she’s a master at getting into our food.”

Alt laughs, “god- what if we come home and she’s fat?!?” They both laugh.

Then Bro pats Alt’s shoulder. “I’m sure the guys will check in on her if we’re gone for too long… it’ll be okay. I mean- we brought our biggest threat with us!”

Alt tries to smile. “Hopefully the other criminals decide to take a vacation then…”

Bro shrugs and flops onto his bed roll, “eh I’m sure the police can handle a couple days… plus no use worrying about it if I’m not there. Just try to focus on resting, okay? We’ve been going a while. Let’s just rest and try to… save out energy okay?”

Alt nods and curls up in his blankets. “M’kay…”

“And hey, Anti? I love you~” Bro giggles.

Alt laughs quietly, “I love you too, Chase.”

Bro grins and turns over to sleep, almost instantly. Alt can hear his quiet snoring and snorts to himself. But he’s up for a while… reflecting on everything that’s happened so far.

Later than night, Draco slinks through the tent flap, less secure than the zipper-lined tent entrances of the brothers' home world, and curls up next to Alt.

By the time Alt’s drifting off there's suddenly a warm body next to his. It feels so familiar Alt’s sleepy mind immediately starts to relax and he drifts off finally, circling around Draco’s body.

#SITCV FM #fantasy masks au #swap into the crystalverse #there's so many chapters in this one guys its kinda crazy ahgvjhab #but the boys kinda have to slow down in a world like this #and have fun!#the moment where jackie and alt talk about being trans is my fav #im drawing it rn actually aghvjab #alt anti #swap magnificent #bro fantastic

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gaytotaldrama · 1 year

Note

For the requests: maybe Brott? (Brick x Scott)

full disclosure: i haven't gotten to TDROTI in my rewatch yet (mid-TDWT rn) so if anyone seems OOC i apologize it's been a while since ive seen it!! but i think brott is a super cute pairing and brick has always been one of my faves from the newer casts so i hope you enjoy :)

also on my ao3!

Part of a soldier's duty is to keep alert, and notice the little things not everyone else does. Brick may not be top of the class, but he had to have gotten picked for the new season of Total Drama for a reason. And if he really wants a shot at the money, it's probably best to start strategizing before the game even begins.

Which is why Brick starts people-watching as soon as he boards the boat to the island, so he can get a head start on sizing up the - somewhat intimidating - competition.

The most obvious threats, he checks out first. The girl in the grey tracksuit is clearly super athletic, as is the guy in the jersey he's pretty sure is named Lightning. Loud, both of them, but probably also headstrong. Easy to anger. Brick's known plenty like that over the course of his years of training. They'll be ones to watch out for, for sure.

The big guy is quiet - really quiet - and Brick's positive he's got to be secretly housing some mad brains up there. The small kid with the glasses won't get anywhere in the physical challenges, but in Brick's experience, those types of people can serve up a truly merciless smackdown of intelligence. Brick wouldn't call himself dumb, but he's never exactly been an Einstein - watch out for them, too.

Zoey is sweet - she'd introduced herself to Brick near the top of the boat ride, obviously eager to get to know her fellow competitors - and therefore not much cause for concern. Ditto Mike, who seems both nervous and excited, and ultimately, non-threatening. Dakota (and he knows her name is Dakota, because she'd loudly announced herself as she'd sashayed on board) is caught up in her own glossy glamorous self, the curly-haired guy too wrapped up in his video games to give Brick cause for much worry. The Italian girl is a little scary (not that Brick's afraid or anything, haha) and the small kid in the green sweater has done nothing but meditate this whole time. Yeah, they shouldn't be a problem.

Neither is the loud girl in the pink jacket. Brick never caught her name - he's sure she introduced herself, but she's been talking the ear off of everyone non-stop and in all that prattle, none of it seems to actually hold any merit. And Brick would know a thing or two about merit, yes sir!

Chatty Cathy's current victim appears to be the only other remaining contestant - looks like your classic Nova Scotian farm boy, chopped red hair, threadbare wifebeater, unimpressed look on his face. Brick doesn't know his name, or his deal - strength from years of outdoor chores? Some hidden smarts no one would assume of him? Brick has no idea. Come to think of it, Brick's not even sure he's heard the guy say a word. Not that it's in any way easy to get a sentence in edgewise with pink jacket girl around, of course - had she said her name was Tracey? Sarah?

"What are you staring at, buzzcut?"

Brick instantly straightens his spine, standing at attention, embarrassed to have been caught looking at the farm boy. "Nothing. I wasn't staring at anything."

"Uh, yeah, you totally were," says pink jacket. "It was so obvious! By the way, did you know that my great-great-great-great-great uncle Gordon first coined the term obvious wayyyyyy back in - "

"Put a sock in it," farm guy mutters, and strangely, she seems to listen to him. He diverts his attention back to Brick, advancing on him like some sort of terrifying jungle cat. "Trying to size up the competition?" He sniffs, thin lips curled into a sneer. "All you need to know about me is that I'm gonna kick your sorry ass off this island."

Brick stands his ground. "With all due respect, you don't know that for certain. Mr....?"

"Scott." He grabs a hold of the front of Brick's shirt, pulling him in close and oh no, he's hot, and whoa, he's got freckles like everywhere. "I'll make sure you won't forget it, private."

And with one last withering glare, he lets go of Brick and stomps away.

"Wow." In all that had just happened, Brick had forgotten Staci (!!) entirely, but she's throwing an arm around his shoulder now in what she likely thinks is a comforting manner. "That guy is gonna eat you alive! Speaking of cannibals, my cousin's sister's dog's landlord totally eats people! Chris would probably love to have him on the show, yah, he's a total maniac but I bet he'd be great for ratings, ya know? Ya know, my great-great-great-great - "

But Brick isn't listening to a word. He's staring down at his shirt, positive he can see the imprint of Scott's fingers seared into the fabric there, because why else would Brick have burned the way he did when Scott touched him?

#love scott he's like a little gay rat #td #brott #brick mcarthur #td scott #td fanfic #my writing

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year

Text

"Regardless of His Actions Last Night"

(Fictober, Day 2)

Queequeg may have been an undisciplined little puffball allergic to six different brands of dog food, an indoor voice, and the realization of the near fatal consequences of his choice to chase after an alligator, but a disagreeable traveling companion (Scully asserted) he was not.

Her mother managed him more during the last two years than she did-- not that Scully was thrilled with her own negligence, but the demands of the job kept her hopping from car to plane and coast to coast-- and had happily lugged Queequeg around with her wherever she went (empty-nester and solitary widow that she was.) As such, he was quite the seasoned traveler; and Maggie boasted about him so often that her daughter decided to bring him along on a much-needed vacation.

So, one fine morning-- wind whipping through his fur as he tried to stretch his head further above the convertible door-- Queequeg found himself cruising shotgun along the highway, alive and dangerous and as eager for trouble as Scully was to escape it.

*****

Scully could barely hear Mulder’s impish finger-wagging over the phone while Queequeg growled and barked and lunged ineffectually in his seat at a random cat lounging, unbothered, by the gas station entrance.

“Queequeg, no-- no, he hasn’t, Mulder; and he won’t. He’s a good dog. Queequeg! Stop that.”

Mulder made sure to caveat his very important statistic on vehicular decapitation with a cheeky footnote: "But I don't know if the data applies to two-foot cannibals, Scully. And if my guess is correct, it’s because those statisticians were clever enough to leave their yappers at home.”

“I think you got the height of the yappers mixed up, Mulder.” And she hit the end button, hypothesizing that Queequeg was likely just hungry. “Lunch,” she muttered, glad that there was no one else around to be bothered until she’d paid and left.

*****

Queequeg almost broke from Scully's grasp, yanking the full length of the leash in his attempts to run across the parking lot. His earlier disgruntled yaps shifted to lapdog spit-snarls; and he completely ignored her commands until one of the inconspicuous cars pulled out and away, a girl and her doll staring back blankly from their window. He calmed then, victorious; and followed Scully placidly to the door.

Where they found chaos.

While Scully attempted to sort the mayhem of injured, moaning customers and the arriving, superstitiously-inclined cops, Queequeg licked the blood dripping off the hand of the most unfortunate victim a little too eagerly.

*****

At the police station, Scully split her attention in half: disproving Mulder’s assumptions of her assumptions (and deflecting his overblown proposal) while simultaneously keeping her eye on Queequeg. Content after chowing down his premium soggy lunch and bored from satisfying all his curiosities around the office, he clicked his little nails over to a pile of coats someone left for him and plunked eagerly down for an afternoon nap. She watched longingly as the little dog relaxed, not a care in the world as he stretched and shifted.

A bath. That would hit the spot. A long one.

Hopefully Queequeg wouldn’t find something dirty and inconvenient to stick his nose into before the weekend was over.

*****

The next morning, Scully had to leave him moaning and wailing outside the crime scene with a buoyantly even-keeled police officer. By the time her and Jack Bonsaint’s theories were interrupted by Mulder’s opportune phone call, Queequeg's howls had shifted from woefully complaining to bitterly angry.

“I’m not going to feel sorry for him, Scully. He ate my Christmas hat.”

“Might I remind you,” she replied, shoving one hand up to cover her other ear, “that you left it on the floor with your running clothes after I’d warned you he likes to sniff out and chew dirty socks?”

The argument, they both knew, was unproductive: Mulder only clung to this particular grievance because the Lone Gunman still made snide remarks about him ‘tossing aside the gift of friendship’ every time they met up (especially Frohike, who had taken one look at the pin-striped monstrosity he'd called “a runner’s cap” and knew Mulder would like it. He had.)

“Yeah? What about that new silk pajama set he tore into?”

“I don’t know--” there was a short pause as Scully walked back outside and hunched down, “--ask him.”

Queequeg bellowed full force into the phone.

Mulder got the message.

*****

The rest of the investigation was a repeat of their normal cohabitation-- Scully was roped into work and Queequeg was forced to stay behind with a third party. Mulder, of course, did not lose sight of that fact on their last call, teasing her about being a woman of routine.

He stopped the ribbing, however, when she didn't respond to his banter. “Scully? You there?”

She shook her head, trying to catch the thread of their conversation. “Yeah, yeah I heard you.”

“Is there something wrong?”

After a moment of deliberation, Scully stepped out of the squad car and closed the door behind her. “It’s just… is it fair to him, Mulder?”

“...Fair to who?”

“To Queequeg. I mean, I’ve owned him for nearly two years now, but I don’t really own him, do I? Mom cares for him while I'm out of town, and I only really see him between cases--”

“He tagged along with us that one time. And he seems to be eating up your trip.”

“--But is it fair? After Christmas….”

More silence settled-- weighty and somber-- while they both carefully readjusted to the turn of the conversation.

“After Christmas, I was going to make changes in my life. I had made them. But even after--” Scully pivoted away from that consuming memory, “-- after Emily... I never considered keeping those changes for Queequeg's sake. Was that fair of me?”

Jack Bonsaint knocked considerately on the windshield. “Agent Scully? Any leads?”

*****

Oblivious to the horror show unfolding across town, Queequeg tore away the plastic from a complimentary bar of soap and sank his teeth into the old lady smell of dime store lavender. He then decorated his triumph all over the floor.

*****

“Well-behaved” had turned into “good as new” had turned into “we’ll handle it”; and Scully’s weekend closed amicably, both professionally and financially. At least Jack and the force were pitching in to cop the damages.

She’d buy him a poster, she decided, securing her rascally co-pilot into place before striding to the driver’s side door.

And she’d at least gotten her bath.

But she’d never tell Mulder about what happened to her new tourist shirt.

*****

Dedicated to @welsharcher's curiosity about Mulder's strange... hat (here) in "Christmas Carol" and @agent-troi's generously donated prompt ("Queequeg tags along on cases and gets into mischief") that @perpetually-weirdening seconded.

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

**Note**: If the Tales of Queequeg becomes a series, I will call them The Remains of the Remains of the Day. That is all.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

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dnangelic · 7 months

Note

The call comes a little past 10 PM. "Daisuke?" A little laugh, more of a hiccup than anything else. She sniffs. "Haha, I know I usually don't try talking this late. Guess I just wanted to shake it up a bit!" And it's true. She's formed a habit of sending good night texts, complete with a string of emojis, by 8 PM on the dot. But neither that or any warning text leading up to the sudden call had come through that night. There's a sharp intake of breath. "My aunt and uncle are out tonight, and I don't think my brother's coming home 'cause- actually, never mind. It's just- it's just-" Another sniffle, and her voice drops down as if she's not sure she wants to be heard. "It's awful quiet. And I don't..." she trails off. After a few moments of silence, she gasps, "Oh no, did I wake you up!? I'll never forgive myself if I interrupted your beauty sleep!"

@deiscension

the call comes a little past 10 PM --- past curfew , post-heist . the electric rush of adrenaline has already worn off ; the blood , sweat , and tears of it rinsed away by a warm bath ... leaving the niwa worn out in his bed . eyes that had slowly drawn themselves shut now open in a disturbed-sleep squint --- at first he thinks it must be risa or takeshi ringing ; didn't his friends often call him , loud , wide awake and full of eager enthusiasm even at midnight to ask if he had seen dark on tv again ? the evening hours and all of its attentions would always belong to the great phantom thief ; daisuke likewise left to produce all sorts of pitiful excuse and apology to anyone trying to reach him , but it's different this time .

it's the first time shi qingxuan had ever called him like this . daisuke has likewise been barely granted the span of enough seconds to mumble out a messy 'hello...?' as she follows the cue of the line's otherwise answered , lingering silence . there's something strange too in the other's voice that immediately pricks at the boy a little ; snaps him awake just as quickly as it did in the face of soaring goodmorning knives and electric needles . although she carries herself well , choice and sound of her words playful and lilting as ever at least in the start , it's still not the same . parts of it lacked ; other parts , the static of her every sniff , her punctured laugh --- he can't be sure , and another part of him doesn't want to think it's true , but ...

' shi qingxuan ... are you okay ? '

in an instant , he begins to worry . his hand presses against the receiving mic of his phone ; covers up his small grunt and sore , stinging hiss as he snaps himself into a seat upwards , alongside any possible dissuasion from shi qingxuan herself : if she was going to fret and tell him that she was just fine , then he wasn't going to hear it . surprises were always like this ; demanding as much immediate action as they did spontaneous improvisation , and he doesn't hesitate to start putting a fresh pair of socks on . was it too presumptuous ? was he being impulsive ? despite the dizzy buzz and renewed rush , he can still fill in every blank .

lacrimosa : ( i don't want to be all alone . )

' can --- can i visit you ?! ' he hops in place as he holds his phone up to his ear by a shoulder . what cotton pajamas he had just started to warm and get comfortable in are traded out for better outer-wear in as little as the blink of an eye . ' i mean , no , what i meant to say is , i'm already on my way --- ' would she try to stop him ? if she was the only one there , then she was the only one that could . but he hopes that she wouldn't . ' you didn't wake me up , i promise ! i was just --- o-on a walk outside ! i'm halfway to you already , ' not quite , only just now opening the window of his room and leaping right out of it before breaking into a sprint down the road , but if he hurried he could make it there in record time .

all for a friend . ( i don't only want to hear you cry . )

' i'll be right there , okay ? ' it doesn't strike him that she could possibly hear his panting ; his frantic , aching hurry . after all , despite it , his voice is still bright and kind --- the smile on his face , even unseen , still tries to reassure . ' it's alright . i promise ! even if you had woken me up , i'd be happy to talk with you . ' he laughs too , because there's nothing else to do , even as he's running himself out of breath again . ' but --- shi qingxuan , you'll ... you'll let me in , right ? ' don't fret over presentation . please , just wait for me . please , be willing to open the door . he wouldn't have intruded otherwise , even if he could have ; picked every lock , flung open every gate . even after making it all this way , if she earnestly refused him ---

' if ... it's lonely , then i want to be beside you . i want to talk to you face to face . '

... that was all .

#*･ﾟ⊰ ANSWERED. ⊱#deiscension #CANON.#🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ HAULING ASS #SQX STOP UR LONELY TEARS U R EVERYTHIGN U R BEAUTIFUL N WONDERFUL N u r dai's friend #therefore its bare minimum he goes flying out th window smackin pavement to fling himself #at ur porch window like a looney toon bit almost #sqx: sniffles #dai (catapulting himself facefirst pressin his face against th glass of the nearest window) SQX!!!!! SQX!!!!! ARE U OK!!!!????

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wrencatte · 1 year

Note

Oooh I’m liking their whumpy titles so can I ask about “water torture” and “stress position” !! And then bc I need to feel nicer, what about “community”?

Thank you for sharing your WIPs with us!!! ❤️

<3 <3 thank you for asking!

water torture! I actually posted about this one a while ago. It's a very specific water torture I've been eyeing for a few years now to put a character through (Mythbusters did an episode about it!)

Maybe it’s the blood loss. Does he have blood loss? He might have blood loss.

Another droplet hits his forehead. He flinches. It’s almost cold with how superheated he feels – like a fever but worse because there’s no relief. Hopefully it’s not actually a fever. That would monumentally fucking suck.

He tries to tilt his head, but concrete blocks one way and then the other just leads to the edge of a one-inch lip digging into the back of his head. It makes it even more uncomfortable than just accepting the annoyance of water dripping. For good measure he reaches for his helmet, finding it just slightly out of reach. Thanks, past Jason, real helpful. He strains for it a little bit longer before his chest starts screaming at him and he pulls back.

Cool.

Drip.

Jason sniffs. Water runs down his forehead to pool in his ears. He scratches it out of one of them, but the other is – he tilts his head over. It only helps a little. He closes his eyes, listens hard for sirens or deliberate rubble shifting beyond the, quite frankly terrifying, sounds of the building settling.

Until another drop smacks him right out of it. Fuck. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and starts counting instead. One. Two. Three. Four. Drip. One. Two. Three. Four. …Five…Six. Drip. One. Two. Drip – oh come on!

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me!” Jason all but howls at the pipe.

Drip.

stress position....that one's been tricky. I keep trying to come back to it. it's a 2022 whumptober prompt. but the vibe of this one is A+ (to me)

Jason spits at their heels as the men leave the room, the door snapping shut. He misses them by a mile, bloody saliva falling short which is such a shame because their boots were so shiny. The room is dark and freezing. His shivers feel like he’s seizing instead, muscles contracting painfully, bruises and open wounds pulling. There’s a click-click, and even colder air blows in from somewhere, making him groan. Fucking hell.

He’s stung up like a piece of meat. Wrists bound painfully together and hooked on, well, a meat hook, then bound to that for good measure or else he would’ve used his impressive core control and unhooked himself a long time ago. He can touch the ground, barely, with the tips of his bare toes – because, oh yeah, they took his helmet and his shirt and his boots and his goddamn socks. The weight is hell on his shoulders. He can only stand on his toes for so long. The angle does this weird thing to his lungs, making it hard to breathe if he’s not paying attention.

"because I need to feel nicer" I am so sorry....

It only takes them a week – it hasn’t made the news yet, buried by the scrolling headlines of BRUCE WAYNE’S SON KILLED IN TERRORIST ATTACK and the unspoken agreement to ignore it. But Gothamites always know. The air had changed when Robin left the first time. Sad and melancholy and a low, simmering anger that didn’t know where it wanted to go.

Robin leaves a second time and there’s nothing useful about the word sad when it’s grief, heavy and burdening. Rage, explosive and violent. Devastation. A pleaded bargain in every broken bone and hospitalization, in every reckless plan.

The Batman – well, he disappears fully into the shadows that he never quite blended into when he had a brightly colored Robin at his side. The kid had been like a sunbeam peeking between clouds, cutting through the darkness, and letting everyone see the bright day ahead.

When Batman stopped letting himself be seen. When he stopped lingering after scenes to comfort and console.

As days and days passed, Robin never showed his face again.

That’s when they knew, and they finally had to acknowledge it.

Robin wasn’t coming back.

#asked and answered #my writing #jason todd

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wanderingpages · 2 years

Text

.・。.・゜Dark AU ゜・。.

V E R S I O N 2

“It’s you that I’ve been thinking about and I shouldn’t be. You’re cattle waiting for slaughter, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Cardan tries not to lust after the girl he's supposed to kill.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Drugs, Sex, Murder/Talks of murder, Sexual/Physical Assault.

Jude's POV

My heart is beating out of my chest and not at all for the reason it probably should be. It’s too quiet, so I’m well aware of how audible my shallow breaths are. I open my mouth to say more but it’s so dry I end up coughing instead.

“Ew,” someone mutters, and I finally glance from Cardan to behind him where another person stands, watching aptly. He’s tall and pale, his hair is nearly silver and his light blue eyes are red rimmed as if they were swollen. He’s wearing all white and my heart rate rises at the thought of being initiated into some kind of cult. He’s pretty, but also unnervingly scary. When he talks, his voice is low and a bit raspy. “Here, take this.” He passes Cardan a plastic bottle of water and I take it warily after he opens it, trying not to let the shaking of my hands be so noticeable.

“Drink up,” Cardan tells me. The night we met, he had been dressed in black from head to toe, even when he had given me his sweatshirt, he still had on a long sleeve black shirt underneath. His hair had been much longer too, a skew of curls I wanted to run my hands through. Now its shorter at the sides, a little longer on the top and not at all obscuring tattoos down his neck I had barely been able to see that night. He’s also wearing white and I grimace, lifting the bottle to my lips. Water trickles down my knuckles and its hard to look away from the amused quirk of his brows.

I sniff the bottle and he rolls his eyes, “It’s not poisoned. Trust me, we’ve had more than enough time to slit your throat if we wanted to.”

My hands shake a little harder but I sip from the bottle.

“I hope you don’t go for the throat,” the man behind him says in plea. “It’s not very pretty to sew back.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, my eyes starting to prick.

“Valerian,” Cardan sighs, “I told you to lay off on the creepy shit.” His eyes are lidded, like he’s tired. My eyes move down his face, and I realize he’s got a bump in the bridge of his nose – maybe he’s broken it once or twice. His lips move slowly, or maybe I’m just not quite catching up to speed. His jaw is cut, his neck is covered in ink, that dip down his sternum, over his shoulder, beneath his shirt that’s thin enough to let me know they travel even further. He’s sitting in front of me, legs spread, and I’m relieved that his jeans aren’t white as well. Combat boots are dirty, and they tap unevenly against tiled floors. My feet are dangling off the seat, pink and blue fuzzy socks are splattered a dark red color. I can’t stop staring, not until a finger hooks under my chin, forcing my gaze to Cardan.

“Quite finished?” I glance behind him, guessing Cardan must have dismissed Valarian, because he’s nowhere to be seen. It’s then I notice the door behind him, and the photos above the frame all systematically placed along the walls. They look like tattoos, a lot in traditional style but all in shades of gray and black. One makes me do a double take, glancing from the small dagger illustrated in a frame, to the much smaller one just beneath Cardan’s ear.

I must be imagining the blood dripping from the tip and trickling down his skin, because when I blink, it’s gone. “Did I kill someone?”

“No,” he says, bluntly, eyes narrowing. “You shot him in the throat. He was still alive, so I killed him.”

“You…” I shiver, feeling my flesh raise in cold bumps, it’s more scary not remembering it. I feel like I’m relapsing. I thought being away from Dad would help, but maybe I should have cut ties and opted to dorm instead living in his house. I feel the downward tilt of my lips. How long have I been out? I remember seeing Cardan and someone else, before, confused that I was shot at and even more confused that I was no longer alone in my living room. “Where were you?” My brows furrow. “You disappear for weeks and the first time I see you, you point a gun at me?”

“You missed me,” he says, and when I find his eyes again, he looks pleased, but not surprised. Countless nights using his sweatshirt as pillow has my cheeks on fire.

“Where am I?” I twist my body, taking in more of the room. There’s another door behind me, a long countertop with various inks and needles, stencil sheets, a printer, a safe. A tattoo parlor, maybe, but it’s so small. I set the water bottle between my legs and rub my hands up and down my thighs. I’m wearing pajama shorts and probably a matching top, starting to feel much colder now that I’m aware. I rub at my skin a little harsher, but there’s a stiffness to my arm. “What time is it?”

“Jude,” Cardan says, voice sending a prick down my spine. He seems annoyed, which is ridiculous seeing as I’m the one who’s hostage here. Although, my hands and feet aren’t restrained, and I think his friend might have cleaned my wound, but would he stop me if I got up and walked away? Would I even know where I even was to find my way home? Is home even safe anymore? He snaps his finger in front of my eyes and my gaze locks on him.

“I never did tell you my name,” I point out. That night has replayed in my head countless times. I remember everything about it, so I keep going back to it, just to make sure the memory remains intact. “How did you know?”

He gets up and I lean back, startled to have him in my space so suddenly. He smells like he did that night, like citrus and cedar. It makes my head swim. He thumbs at my eyelid and I blink, or try to, at least. Up close, I realize his eyes are a deep brown and not exactly the color of midnight as I had thought. My reflection is unbecoming in them. When was the last time I ran a brush through my hair? “What are you doing?” it comes out as a whisper.

“Checking if you’ve got a concussion,” he murmurs. His breath smells like…juice.

I scrunch my nose. “I don’t like orange juice,” I let him know. I feel lightheaded looking into his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Cardan asks me, suddenly, releasing my eyelid, but his warm hands come to cup at my face, fingers splaying behind my ears and grazing at my nape. He moves my head, this way and that. I fumble and grasp on to his hip.

I eye him warily, “Jude, don’t you already know?”

“Checking if you did,” he mutters. My grip on him tightens then my fingers flex, feeling the warm skin under his shirt, letting me know he’s definitely real. “Who were they? Ren and Stimpy,” he clarifies and that confuses me. “What did they want from you?” I try to think back, but going past seeing Cardan’s face has my blood pumping faster. I hear it rushing in my ears, as I try to place those two men. “Hey,” Cardan says, a little quieter. A little softer. “Breathe,” he tells me, “slowly.”

My hands tremble but I force myself to hold them steady. I pull away from him, my stomach drops and I feel ready to vomit, but my fingers work on their own accord, and suddenly there’s click. Cardan pauses, eyes blinking in first confusion, then disbelief. His lip twitches. He lets go of my face and I aim his gun to his stomach.

“That was really fucked up,” I tell him with a frown. He backs away slightly, hands up in surrender. “You held this to my head,” I accuse. I’m giving myself a headache, fighting for control of my body. I’m usually in autopilot when I pull off stuff like this. I hope the shock of pulling it off is not evident in my tone, because the truth is, I’m so beyond my element and completely aware of my mobility, that it’s jarring to say the least.

He lets out a short laugh. “It definitely feels different having that pointed at me.”

He eyes the gun cautiously when I use it to gesture around us. “Are you a tattoo artist?”

Cardan shrugs, “Why, thinking of a getting a rose somewhere?” he uses his pointer finger to gesture to the middle of his chest, then folds it and raises his thumb, “Good spot.”

“I don’t think I’d trust a serial killer to ink me up.”

He grins now, so sweet it makes my stomach flip. “Nothing serial about my kills,” he confesses, saying a lot without saying much at all. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I wish my dad were here. I have no real idea on how to handle any of this. Can Cardan tell there’s a tremor in my hand? Is it just me, or are my siblings in danger, too? Last I spoke to my eldest sister, Vivienne seemed fine exploring the Amazon with her girlfriend. I haven’t spoken to Taryn in ages, but I doubt she’s back from her trip. But Oak… Oak is just a few miles away. “Well,” Cardan muses, pulling me from my thoughts, “I might have an affinity towards arson.”

“Arson?”

He looks very much at ease for someone who’s about to get his kneecaps blown. “Yeah, baby,” he tells me, “You know. Boom.”

“I know what arson means,” I glare, my fingers going clammy against the gun. I know if it comes down to it, I will absolutely pull this trigger, but I hope it doesn’t come down to it. “What do you want from me?”

“Well, I’m not going to blow you up if that’s where you're headed. I told Valerian I’d keep your body intact and all that.” I suppress a shiver, focusing on his face, his nose, where I can’t quite tell if that bump on the bridge is endearing.

“You said you weren’t going to kill me – that night, in your truck.”

“Maybe I’m a liar.”

My body tenses so hard its unbearable. “Don’t…” I have to clear my throat, “Don’t give him my body.” Thoughts of Valerian dressing my corpse evade my mind and to my horror, its more funny than I want it to be.

I’m pulled from my thoughts. “Jude,” he’s closer to me when he says my name again, exasperated now. I’ve gone off topic, maybe. I do that a lot. I wish he could read my mind, it would be far easier than having to select one sentence at a time. “Ren and Stimpy,” Cardan brings them up again. “What could they have possibly wanted from you?”

I shrug. The night I met Cardan, I asked if I was going out of the fire and into the frying pan. I think I passed Go and am directly in line to catapult myself into the sun. “Money?” maybe something to do with whatever was on the laptop I destroyed. Maybe something to do with my Dad but I don’t tell him that. For all I know, my basement was probably full of dead bodies and I wouldn’t know how to explain that. I guess there’s a lot of things I'm unsure how to explain, in retrospect. “Were you watching me?”

“Yeah,” he says bluntly. “You should probably start closing your curtains.” Before I can even process that to be embarrassed, he asks, “How often did you think about me? I’m good at reading lips,” he informs me. “And you’ve said my name nearly every time your fingers got between your thighs.” My mouth parts in shame, more so not because of what he’s saying, but because when he places a hand to my thigh, I feel the high of anticipation. He eyes my lips when he tells me, “It’s okay, I’ve been thinking about you since the party, too. Thought of skull fucking you so hard, your brain would ooze out of your ears.” I swallow thickly, and he places his palm on either side of my thighs, not fearful of the loaded gun in my hands, I guess. “You know,” Cardan tilts his head. “You’ve got demon eyes.”

I gasp, head moving back in surprise, said eyes widening in shock and probably offense. He’s definitely the first person to ever tell me something like that. He grins and I don’t think it’s as saccharine as I did before. it’s all wicked, like he knows his comment stings. “Your eyes get so vacant, baby. Soulless.” I can’t look away from his own piercing gaze. I feel like he sees into my very dark soul. “It’s creepy,” he admits. He leans even closer, and I can’t lean back any further. The tip of his nose touches mine. I can taste his sweet breath when he says, “It kinda gets me hard.” I squeeze my thighs together, the crackle of the water bottle between my legs making my stomach coil, and my breath stills.

“They clearly wanted something I didn’t have – Ren and Stimpy,” I tell him quietly, adapting his nicknames for them, trying to ignore his proximity.

He hums, and I can practically feel the vibrations reach my skin and maybe under it too. “Maybe so.”

“I guess I know why they want me,” or at least, maybe who sent them, I don’t say. “But… why do you want me?”

He lifts an eyebrow and it feels like it should be obvious in the way that he looks at me, I guess I can convince myself that it kind of is and maybe he can play along to torture me, but we both know that isn’t what I mean. “King…?” I test out the name he said that night at the party. It tastes bitter, along my lips, makes my heart ache against my ribcage. “You came to save me” I guess at this, “and I can’t help but wonder if this is better or worse.”

His pelvis presses into my knees, and I part my legs on instinct. The bottle falls to the ground and I idly wonder if I had closed it properly or if it’s spilling on to the floor. I suck in my breath when he slips easily between my thighs. I think of how well we fit and how bad of an idea this is. Hadn’t I imagined this scenario countless times, trying to fall asleep at night? It’s all types of wrong when the chance suddenly arises. I didn’t think there’d be a gun between us. Maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised about that though.

He leans even closer, yet he doesn’t actually touch me, which seems like an incredible feat. I thin sheet of paper could fit between us. “I’m not sure yet,” he says quietly. He grabs my knees suddenly and I jump. He slides his warm hand up my thighs and I feel my body throb in anticipation. He holds my gaze, eyes steely and impossibly darker than I’ve ever seen them. His fingers find the hem of my shirt and he slides the pads of his digits across taught skin. My stomach contracts and he lets out an amused huff.

Suddenly something cold is pressed above my navel and I know he revels in the fear my face shows. I hold his gaze, but I can’t feign indifference. When had my grip loosen? He flicks the safety off and even though two men had broken into my house and there’s no doubt in my mind they would have killed me or worse, I’m more scared now, looking into Cardan’s eyes, knowing that he won’t kill me. “Don’t you ever,” he enunciates, “fucking try to point my own gun at me again.” ‘You dumb fucking, bitch’ his eyes surely say, and I wouldn’t be surprised because I’m definitely thinking along the same lines. He slips the gun from under me and points it to my head. I yelp at the bang when he shoots and it fires just centimeters from my face, hitting its mark in the wall behind me.

A sob escapes me, involuntarily, and it takes me a moment to realize I was holding on to the leather of the seat beneath me so hard, I’ve teared into the fabric. “Next time, it’s going in your skull,” he promises.

He takes the hand from my thigh and wraps it into my hair, tugging my head back. He swipes his tongue along my cheek, licking away the tears that had fallen. I am disgusted with my body’s response to the rough pad of Cardan’s tongue caressing the heat in my cheeks. He lets loose my hair then secures his gun, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out plastic strips. “Wh – What are you doing?” he grabs my hand, forcing my palms together and secures my wrists with a zip cable tie. Its pink. I think he’s teasing me. It matches my current sleep attire.

Cardan takes another tie and loops it through the arm of the chair and attaches it to mine. “Stay put,” he steps back as if to admire his work. He snatches the bottle from the floor and looks at the mostly empty bottle it in deliberation. I wince, realizing it had actually spilled. I scrunch my nose, and sink deep into the chair, praying he doesn’t attempt some form of water torture on me. In a tattoo shop of all places. He finally places the bottle on a counter and heaves out a heavy sigh while running a hand through his hair. As if guessing my thoughts, “I don’t like to torture people,” he says quietly, maybe to himself more than me. I guess his unspoken words are that, I’m the exception, isn’t it? He reaches and pats my cheek, then walks away without even a second glance at me. My heart hammers into my ribs and I call after him.

“Wait!” I yell, but the door is slammed shut and I’m left by myself. I'm embarrassed at all the liquid coming from my eyes, and leaking from my nose. I can hardly reach to shoulder them away, but even as I attempt to, the tightness I had felt before is gradually starting to run hot with pain. “Cardan!” I call again. I plead and I beg, to nothing and no one, not wanting to be alone like this. Had he timed everything that perfectly? To torture me when the medicine wears off? I tell myself that I’ve gone through worse, that this is just a scratch – but I trusted my Dad; I definitely don’t trust Cardan. “Cardan!” I yell again, throat going hoarse. I yank at the restraints, knowing how easy it is to break them, but my arm stings like a bitch and the tears come more out of frustration than anything else. “Fuck,” I cry, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” I yell. “And I don’t have demon eyes, you prick,” I seethe, glaring at the door. “Come back,” I plead, deflated now. I slump back against the chair, leaning my head back until the light stings my eyes. I try to call out for the other man, the one Cardan called Valerian, but it’s just as useless.

“Hey,” someone snaps a finger in front of me. My eyes flash open in an instant, on high alert. I jump, forgetting my wrists have been restrained, then wince when I look down to see a raw strip of skin where the plastic has rubbed against. I look up again, recognizing the blonde man from the whole home invasion fiasco. Whereas Valerian was all pale and the embodiment of death, this man is all golden and far too bubbly for my current situation. His hazel colored eyes are blown out and that makes me uneasy. His eyebrow piercing glints when he moves to sit on the spinning chair in front of me. It’s a bit annoying how handsome the three of them are for a trio of absolute maniacs. “Morning, Whistler.”

My brows knit. “Whistler?” I try not to let out any indication that my throat stings and that it bothers me that my voice is so broken.

“Yeah,” he spins a few times on the chair, a blur of black and gold with his dark attire. I close my eyes, feeling nauseous just looking at him. “From Blade. She’s good with arrows. And hot as all fuck.”

“Okay…” I take a deep breath, “Right, and that makes you…?” I fish for his name.

The squeaking sound the chair had been making stops and I open my eyes just a bit to see he’s grinning at me. He gives me a wink when he sees I'm looking. “I’m your Ghost, of course, here to haunt you until I'm told to stop. But don’t actually count on that happening.” He talks so fast, I feel a headache coming on. Hadn’t he been the one to shoot me?

“Are you here to untie me?”

“Probably not, but I got you food.” He reaches behind him to the counter and shakes a red box at me. “King said to get you a Happy Meal and an M&M McFlurry. How old are? Like five?” he laughs, “Just kidding, I already know. Ugh,” he looks down to my hands. They might be bleeding. “That’s hella gross. Dain’s gonna be pissed if that gets on his floors. I’ll have to dump peroxide over it later.” He opens the box and rummages for a bit before pulling out a single fry. He scoots over and waves the piece over my lips. I open my mouth, but he quickly pulls away.

“That was kind of mean,” I mumble, knowing he hears when my stomach growls in protest.

He ignores me. “So you and Sophie, huh?”

“Who?”

He blinks, eyes narrowing, “Yeah, King said you were good at not chatting. I guess you won’t say who killed her either, huh?”

“I don’t…” I trail off when he eats the fry. He grimaces and picks another fry, this time, shoving it in my mouth. Its super salty, but I chew it dutifully.

“Don’t look at me, its fucking weird.” That would be the second time in one day where someone has pointed out how ugly my eyes are. “It makes me feel like that scene in Shrek with Puss in Boots.” He does not further elaborate. He reaches back for a small cup with a straw sticking out, then holds it out for me. I bend my head and take a sip, swallowing before wrenching my head back and making a gagging noise. I should have told Cardan that I hated something like water or fruit punch.

He frowns then takes a sip himself. “What the fuck is your deal? It’s just OJ.” He feeds me another fry, “So where’d you learn to shoot like that? Camp?” my face must give away the answer because he nods, and says, “Yeah, knew it.” This one-sided conversation is titillating. I think back on my days at summer camp with a grimace. I may have cut ties with Dad, but would he notice me missing on the security feeds? Would he care? Was this one of his schemes, maybe? Ren and Stimpy did look a little familiar if I try to think back on them, but doing so gives me a migraine. “Reworked your cameras, by the way,” Ghost says, taking a nugget from the bag and biting into it. It’s as if he’s read my mind, “They’re just re-looping some hand-picked days, in case you’re wondering. My five favorite episodes of the Jude Show.”

He gives me the other half of the nugget, “You know what’s crazy?” I have a plethora of responses, but I focus on chewing my food. “Whatever was on that laptop is completely wiped.”

“I broke it,” I point out.

He rolls his eyes, “The cloud is forever. Anyways, your weird manic episode has nothing to do with the wiping of the hard drive. I was just pointing out that it is weird. Everything about you is weird. Its kind of arousing,” he jests, sounding less serious than when Cardan had told me something similar.

“How long have I been here?”

“Few hours, seven maybe. Seven is a lucky number.” I don’t know what he means, but I don’t take much of what he’s saying to heart, especially when he reaches into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a skinny blunt. I watch him light it, then let loose a puff of smoke between his lips. Should he be mixing uppers and downers while keeping watch over me?

“What’s going to happen to me?” Ghost reaches and sets the blunt between my lips, then grabs more fries to feed himself. I don’t really know what to do, nor am I sure he’s aware of what he’s done, but I inhale a bit of it, anyways. Something about when in Rome and all that.

“Shit, if I know. Weird that he tied you up so quickly though, that seems like a forth date type of thing.” He wiggles his eyebrows, making the piercing dance. “Fifty Shades,” he points out.

“Is he going to kill me?” I try again, eyeing the toy he pulls out of the Happy Meal box to examine. Its pink. “Cheer Bear,” I say, not as annoyed with this one as I was with Funshine.

“Maybe,” he shrugs and pockets the toy. “Kind of hoping he won’t, but, I mean. Don’t hold your breath on it, babygirl.”

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Masterlist

#Dark AU #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude x cardan #jurdan #jurdan smut #jurdan au #jurdan fanfic #the folk of the air #tfota au #tfota fanfic #tfota #tcp #twk #tqon #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #yes i still stan a throuple but thats called subtext

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