#that iarnvidia ref i found on like one website that i don't think is reputable but still

[afoolandathief]

Last line tag

Tagged by @hottubraccoon. I'm, uh, still stuck on Chapter 6 of Something Wicked, but sort of the good news is I'll possibly share the entirety of it on here to try to work some things in it out once it's done.

Anyway, last thing I wrote was further continuation to that THHT spinoff. TWs for language, marijuana, food, and also the shock for anyone used to seeing adorable 11-year-old Jory now an 18-year-old stoner.

Tagging, if you'd like, @jezifster, @the-orangeauthor, @redylan and @albatris.

The sun was already well into the sky as they made their way across dewy grass to the edge of the backyard. His family had kept the trailer his mom had first hidden out in, dragging it along with them on each of their moves. It had slowly turned into a place for Fenrir to hide out when he needed to.

Tyr stared at the faded, rusted pop-up, his eyes falling to the droplet-coated spiderwebs over the ripped screens and hunks of crabgrass and chicory overtaking the wheels.

“This is the only place we can talk?” he asked.

“Yup,” Fenrir said, before dragging him inside and slamming the door behind them.

The dark interior of the trailer sunk heavily over them. Even Fenrir was having trouble adjusting his eyes to it.

“It’s so hot in here,” Tyr said. “And what’s that smell?”

Disoriented by the dark and the oppressing heat that had built up in the trailer, Fenrir moved his hands in front of him, unintentionally grabbing Tyr’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat you,” Fenrir growled. “I just need to -”

“Bro!” a voice called out.

Fenrir managed to trace the voice to a red spark burning in the dark, before a flashlight beam suddenly hit him and Tyr.

“And you brought Tyr, too,” Jormungandr said. “Cool beans.”

His younger brother had somehow curled his massive, lanky frame onto the ledge seat at the rear of the trailer, balancing his Switch on his knees. Emptied soda bottles, chip bags and cans of sardines and tuna surrounded him on the floor, skeletal remains of the sea monster’s victims.

Jormungandr stretched an arm out to tap the joint out onto a plate before taking another hit of it, blowing the smoke above his head in a hazy cloud.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Fenrir asked.

“Uh, what’s it look like I’m doing?” his brother asked through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry, were you guys sneaking in here to do it or something? Because I don’t think I’m going to want to move for a while.”

“Jormungandr, you’re way too young to smoke weed,” Fenrir said. “Is this how you’ve been spending all your time? Getting high, stuffing your face and watching dumb shit on your Switch?”

“You sound like mom,” Jormungandr said. “Worse. You sound like Sigyn.”

Fenrir gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to let out the same tea-kettle shriek Sigyn had emitted this morning.

“By the way Tyr — I mean, Thorin — and I weren’t coming here to -”

“Dude, I know it’s Tyr,” Jormungandr said. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I thought you were seeing that one girl in Ironwood, though. Likes to take the form of a wolf? Iarnvidia or something?”

Fenrir bit the tip of his knuckle. His brother had surprised him over the years with some of the abilities he had, and that included being able to seamlessly travel through the seas between worlds. He had been the only one he had seen during his time in Jotunheimr, the only one he could talk to.

“That,” he began. “That sort of fizzled out.”