#yes i’m doing this to figure out if i need to switch the tense of my writing lmao

[pretzelwrites]

* for fics

[misswynters]

Wine

aemond targaryen x wife!reader

[WARNING: switch!aemond, implied mommy kink?, riding, lactation kink but with wine?, let me know if there are any mistakes

[requested: by @demigoddessqueens (everyone say thanks)

[a/n: both you and aemond are switches and this is the first time i’m writing this type of thing :3

Aemond knelt before you in the privacy of your chambers, his tall, imposing figure somehow made small by the sheer humility in his posture. The low, flickering light of the hearth cast long shadows across the room, turning the walls into a canvas of shifting shapes. But the only thing that mattered was the man before you—Aemond Targaryen, Prince of the Realm, brought to his knees by his own desires, and by you, his wife.

The tension in the air was thick, palpable, as if the very walls of the room held their breath, waiting for the inevitable. Aemond’s single eye, the vibrant violet of old Valyria, locked onto yours with an intensity that could have melted stone. But tonight, there was no fire in his gaze, no dragon-like fury—only a deep, aching need.

You stood above him, holding a goblet filled with the finest Arbor red wine. The deep crimson liquid sloshed gently as you tilted the cup ever so slightly, just enough to let the wine catch the light. Aemond’s breath hitched, his lips parting as his eye followed the movement of your hand, as if entranced.

“You want this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice a low, sultry purr that filled the room with an almost tangible heat.

“Yes,” Aemond whispered, his voice strained, laced with desperation. “Please…”

There was something so intoxicating about the way he begged—this powerful man, a dragonrider, a warrior, reduced to nothing but a trembling, needy husband before you. You reveled in the control you had over him, the way he willingly gave himself to you, trusting you with his vulnerability.

With deliberate slowness, you lowered the goblet toward his lips, but stopped just short of letting him drink. His eye flicked up to meet yours, a flash of panic crossing his features as you teased him, holding the cup just out of reach. He didn’t dare move, though you could see the strain in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched into fists behind his back.

“Do you think you deserve it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aemond swallowed hard, his throat working as he struggled to form words. “I—I want to deserve it,” he stammered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing. “I want to please you, my lady. I’ll do anything…”

Your lips curved into a slow, wicked smile as you tilted the goblet just enough to let a single drop of wine fall onto his waiting tongue. He groaned softly at the taste, his eye fluttering closed as he savored the brief, tantalizing sensation. But you pulled the cup away again, making him whimper in protest.

“Anything?” you repeated, your voice laced with amusement as you crouched down to his level. You were so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, see the slight tremor in his hands as he struggled to maintain control. He nodded fervently, his eye wide with need.

“Good,” you murmured, tracing the rim of the goblet with your finger before bringing it to his lips once more. This time, you allowed the wine to flow freely, pouring it into his mouth as he eagerly drank, his lips wrapping around the edge of the cup like a man starved.

Some of the wine spilled over, trailing down his chin and neck, staining his skin a deep, sinful red. You watched, enthralled, as the liquid dripped onto his collar, seeping into the fabric of his tunic. Aemond’s breathing grew heavier, more labored, as he drank, and when you finally pulled the goblet away, his lips were stained with the rich hue of the wine.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin as you licked a stray droplet of wine from the corner of his mouth. Aemond shuddered under your touch, his whole body tensing as he fought to keep still. The taste of the wine, mixed with the saltiness of his skin, was intoxicating, and you found yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the pull.

Pressing your lips to his, you kissed him deeply, your tongue slipping into his mouth to claim the remnants of the wine. He moaned into the kiss, his eye closing as he surrendered completely to you, his hands trembling where they rested on the floor. You could feel the intensity of his desire in the way he kissed you back, the way his whole body seemed to ache for your touch.

When you finally pulled away, Aemond was panting, his lips parted and his eye half-lidded with lust. His hair, usually so meticulously kept, was now disheveled, strands falling into his face. You brushed them aside gently, your fingers lingering in his hair, savoring the feel of the silky strands.

“You’ve been so good,” you whispered, your voice softening just a fraction. “So sweet.”

His eye fluttered open, and the look of adoration in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to steady his breathing. “I’ll always be good for you,” he said, his voice hoarse, raw with emotion. “Whatever you want… i’m yours.”

The sheer sincerity in his words, the absolute devotion, made your pulse quicken. You set the goblet aside, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath your touch. He leaned into your hand, a small, contented sigh escaping him as he closed his eye once more.

You guided him gently onto his back, his body melting into the soft furs beneath him. He looked up at you, his violet eye wide, vulnerable, and utterly captivating. You straddled his waist, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear.

“Tonight, you will relax,” you whispered, your breath hot against his skin. “and do absolutely nothing.”

“Yes, my lady,” he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation.

You began to unlace his tunic, your fingers deftly working at the knots until the fabric fell away, revealing the pale, sculpted planes of his chest. Aemond’s breath hitched as your hands roamed over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

He was beautiful—almost too beautiful, with his alabaster skin and the faint scars that marked him as a warrior. But tonight, he was not a warrior, not not a prince or a dragonrider. Tonight, he was yours, and yours alone. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone, then another, slowly working your way down his chest.

Aemond moaned softly, his hands clenching the furs beneath him as he struggled to remain still. You could feel the tension coiled in his body, the way he was barely holding himself together. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, you paused, looking up at him through your lashes. His eye was dark with desire, his lips parted as he panted softly, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

"Do you want me to continue?" you asked, your voice a low, teasing murmur.

"Yes," he gasped, his voice breaking with desperation. "Please..."

A wicked smile curved your lips as you slowly, agonizingly slowly, began to unlace his trousers. Aemond's breath quickened, his whole body trembling with anticipation as you finally freed him from the confines of his clothing.

You took him in your hand, feeling the heat of his arousal, and he groaned, his eye squeezing shut as he arched into your touch. You stroked him slowly, watching the way his face contorted with pleasure, the way his lips parted in a silent plea for more. "Look at me," you commanded softly.

Aemond's eye fluttered open, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made your heart ache. He was completely at your mercy, and the power you held over him was intoxicating.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "My handsome husband," you whispered against his mouth.

"Yes," he echoed, his voice trembling with devotion.

And then you took his lips into your mouth, swallowing his moans as you worked him with slow, deliberate movements, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him trembling beneath you. Aemond's hands flew to your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he fought to control himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

You kept your movements slow, teasing, drawing out his pleasure until he was a quivering mess beneath you, his whole body trembling with need. When you finally pulled back, his eye was glazed with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Please," he gasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Please, my lady.I can't..."

"Shh," you soothed, pressing a finger to his lips. "You don't need to do anything, my love. Just let me take care of you."

Aemond nodded, his eye fluttering closed as he surrendered completely to your touch. You straddled him once more, guiding him into you with a slow, deliberate movement that made you both gasp. The feeling of him filling you, the heat of his body against yours, was almost overwhelming, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. His hands found your hips, his grip almost bruising as he held you in place, his whole body trembling with the effort to remain still. You began to move, slowly at first, savoring the way he filled you, the way his hands tightened on your hips as he fought to keep control.

His eye fluttered open, and the look of sheer adoration in his gaze made your heart ache with a fierce, burning love. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep, searing kiss as you rode him. Your The way your hips bounced on his was growing faster and more desperate, as the knots in your stomach began to tighten. Aemond's hands roamed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive, as if he couldn't decide whether to hold you close or let you go. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body tensing beneath you as he neared the edge.

"Come for me," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back your own release.

Aemond's whole body shuddered as he finally let go, his release crashing over him with a force that left him breathless, trembling beneath you. You followed him over the edge, your own release tearing through you, leaving you both gasping for air.

Your hips rolled slowly, teasingly, savoring the way he filled you so completely, the way his thick length stretched and filled your inner walls.

You could feel every vein, every ridge of him, your walls tightening around his cock with each agonizingly slow thrust.

Aemond's hands flexed at his sides, his jaw clenched as he held back the torrent of need threatening to consume him.

You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your skin. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one trembling with the effort to remain still, to let you take him as you pleased. His eye locked onto yours, the sheer vulnerability in his gaze making your core throb with desire.

"Aemond," you whispered, your voice a husky command that sent a shiver down his spine. "Touch me."

His eye widened, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features as he hesitated, unsure if he could trust himself to obey without losing control. You didn't give him a choice. Reaching down, you took his hand in yours, guiding it between your bodies, down to where you were joined.

His fingers trembled as you placed them against your bundle of nerves, the sensitive nub already swollen with arousal. The slightest brush of his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your thighs quivering as you gasped softly.

Aemond's breath hitched, his eye widening as he felt the slick heat of your arousal against his fingertips, the way your body clenched around him in response.

"Right there," you murmured, guiding his hand in slow, deliberate circles over your clit. Aemond groaned, his whole body tensing as he watched you ride him, his touch growing bolder, more insistent as he lost himself in the sensation of pleasing you.

You began to move faster, your hips rolling in a rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your heart. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, your core tightening with each movement, driving you closer to the edge. Amond's fingers worked your clit with a desperate intensity, his touch sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, making you tremble with the effort to hold on.

Aemond was a mess beneath you, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep up with you, to match your rhythm, to please you in every way he could. His eye was half-lidded, glazed with lust as he watched you, his lips parted in a silent plea, a prayer to the gods of pleasure.

You could feel the tension coiling in your lower belly, the tight knot of desire that threatened to unravel at any moment. Your hands found purchase on his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster, chasing your release with a singleminded determination.

"Aemond," you gasped, your voice trembling with the sheer force of the pleasure building within you. "Don't stop."

Aemond's fingers moved faster, his touch desperate, as if he couldn't bear the thought of not bringing you to the peak of pleasure once more. His other hand gripped your hip, guiding you as you rode him, his thrusts growing erratic as he teetered on the edge himself.

Your orgasm hit you with the force of a hurricane, your body tensing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your inner walls clenched around Aemond, milking him for everything he had, drawing a choked cry from his lips as he came undone beneath you, his release spilling into you once more.

You collapsed onto his chest, your bodies slick with sweat, your breath mingling as you both struggled to come down from the high. Aemond's arms wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. His heart still pounded beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that matched the thrum of satisfaction coursing through your veins.

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[axelsagewrites]

Jace Velaryon*Frat Baby

Pairing: Jace x pregnant!f!reader

Word count: 1688

Warnings: rivalry, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Masterlist Here

Part One Here

Jace had went from being your sworn childhood enemy to fuck buddy to now the most awkward conversation of your life. You had been avoiding completely for the past month as you debated what to do so when Jace got the ‘we need to talk’ text he made sure he was free the next day for lunch. You were sat in a café across from campus, anxiously sipping on the caffeine-free tea Sansa had insisted you switch to instead of your regular coffee.

You wondered if the hole in your stomach was morning sickness or nerves but you just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you waited. Jace walked in, dressed like a burst bag of clothes, and anxiously scanned the room before rushing to your table. “You’re late,”

“Class ran over. have you ordered?” he said making you roll your eyes at his lack of apology as he ordered from the very perky waitress you were for some unknown reason suddenly jealous of. after he ordered, even ordering you your favourite sandwich which you were shocked he knew, he turned his attention back to you, “So what’s ‘Defcon one’?” he asked, quoting your text.

You took a deep breath as you debated how to say it before suddenly the words tumbled out, “I’m late,”

“I thought you didn’t have class today?” Jace asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy making you face palm. A few beats of silence passed before Jace said a quiet oh, followed by a louder oh, followed by a “oh fuck,” followed by one more quiet oh.

“You good?”

“I mean sure. Are you?” he asked, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table and dropping his voice, “Does it like hurt?”

You stared at this frat boy for a solid three seconds before rolling your eyes, “I’m pregnant not dying!”

“I thought it hurt, okay?”

“It hurts later on,”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Highschool biology!”

“I ditched that week!”

“Yeah, to fuck Sara Snow!” the waitress who brought your food offer gave an awkward smile making you both sigh and drop your voice. “Look I get this isn’t what we planned for but,” you paused for a second before finally saying the words out loud, “I wanna keep it, him, her, them I don’t know. but either way I totally do not expect you do be involved and I wont even tell your mom but I- “

“Eh!” Jace cut you off, his eyes widening as his shoulders tensed, “No! you don’t get to just toss me aside during this,”

“I’m not tossing you aside- “

“Yes, you are! It’s my kid!”

“It’s a clump of cells,”

“My god damn cells. Half of them belong to me,”

“What you want me to stick em on a petri dish?” you spat out, “Look I’m just trying to give you an out,”

“Who said I wanted an out?”

“You wanna raise this baby?”

“Yes, I wanna raise *my* baby,”

“It’s my baby,”

“Our baby!” Jace said before sighing, “Look I’m not going anywhere and don’t for a second think I’m gonna leave my kid behind thinking I’m a dead beat. No this is what’s gonna happen- “

“You are in no position to tell me what to do- “

“Shut up!” Jace snapped, “Honest to god shut up and listen to me okay cause I am freaked the fuck out right now but I am not gonna abandon you,” he said and you weren’t sure if it was the foetus getting to your brain but it was the sweetest way he’d ever told you to shut up which would normally be met with a rude slap, “We are gonna do this together. I’m gonna get a part time job at my family’s firm. We’re gonna save like hell and then by the time our last year rolls around the baby will be like what? 3 months?”

“Two,” you said as you let Jace recover from his spiral.

“Right two. We’re gonna get a flat off campus and we’ll just have to pick our classes at the same time to make sure we can do it, okay?” he said but the way his eyes were strained made you wonder if he was genuinely asking for reassurance.

“We got this,” you said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure it out,”

Jace let out a heavy sigh of relief as he sunk into his chair and picked up his sandwich, “Okay good. Now eat up. And we’re getting dessert too. You’re eating for two,”

-

Shockingly Jace had been sweet this whole time. each day he dropped off snacks or random baby things he’d found at your dorm. This ranged from dummies to blankets to a fucking crib catalogue. When summer break came you were pregnant, terrified, and explaining to both your parents and Jace’s about the whole situation.

They were unpredictably happy. That was till you told them you weren’t a couple and your mums both deflated a little but eventually they got back with the programme. You expected Jace to lap up his final child free summer out partying but instead he took day trips with you to the beach, went out baby shopping with you, and would just sit in with you watching movies and eating ice cream. You wondered if he was trying to make you gain 100 sizes by the end of this pregnancy with the amount of junk food, he got you. he’d even drive over at 2am with whatever weird pregnancy craving you had.

The giving birth part was the terrifying bit. But Jace held your hand through every push. “Just one more,” the midwife told you as you began to break Jace’s hand with your grip but finally you heard the cries and let your head fall back into the pillow as you panted, “It’s a girl!”

“We have a daughter,” Jace grinned, a wide dopey smile on his face. His head turned to face you and soon you broke out in your own smile as they cleaned your baby up. You saw his head begin to dip but this kiss was far different from any other.

It was sweet and tender and life altering even if it lasted a second before the woman brought your daughter over and placed her on your chest, “Hi baby,” you cooed at her.

Jace leant over to get a better view, “She’s so pretty,” he whispered, “just like you,” he added as he kissed the top of your head, not even poking fun at the sweaty state of it.

-

Jace moved into the guest room at your house for the first week of your daughter's life but soon he ended up in your room. He said it was for convenience but that didn’t explain why he held you in his arms. As you began to unpack your things in your new flat as your baby slept you turned to Jace, “What are we?” you asked as he unpacked the plates.

He rolled his eyes at you as he put them in the cupboard, “My girlfriend you idiot,”

“You never asked,” you shot back, hand on hip.

He turned to you with his cockiest face possible, “Sorry I thought between the sex, cuddling, and baby we just had you would’ve caught on,”

“Uhuh,” you rolled your eyes as he turned away from you to continue unpacking but you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his back, “Ask me,”

You could hear him chuckle before he turned around, taking your face in his hands, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You grinned before putting on your best thinking face, “I suppose I could be,”

“You suppose,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he lent in to kiss you only to be rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “I’m gonna kill him,” Jace groaned as he ran to the door to stop the noise, so the baby didn’t wake.

“What up bro?” Cregan whisper shouted as he hurled into your flat, “Where’s the baby?”

“She’s in the nursery sleeping,” Jace said, slapping him in the stomach as he mentioned the sleep.

Cregan rolled his eyes as he passed Jace and walked up to you with an overflowing gift bag, “Consider this a baby-welcome home-nice to meet you properly gift,” he said as he handed you the bag.

You laughed as you began to empty the contents onto the bunker to find university baby sized hoodies, t shirts, hats, and even a scarf. Of course, digging further in you found a soccer jersey, baby sized of course, rattles, and then your hand settled on a box. “Condoms?” you asked, holding the box in the air.

“Hey!” Cregan defended, hands in the air, “She’s cute and all but I’m not ready to be a double uncle. They’ll overtake me when I babysit,”

You and Jace turned to each other before looking back at him, eyes narrowing with concern, “Who said you were babysitting?” Jace asked.

Cregan just rolled his eyes as he began to wander and look for the nursery, “Bitch please she needs me. I’m the fun uncle,”

“You’re not her uncle?” you said as he reached the pink painted nursery door.

Cregan span round, hand on heart and hurt in his eyes, “Not cool man. She’s not just your guy’s baby. She’s basically the frat baby,”

You debated arguing more but watching Cregan, a built like a truck manly man, fawn over a baby no bigger than a doll was too cute to interfere with. You weren’t sure how you survived university with a baby and a Jace btu somehow with a lot of help from Cregan and Sansa who had become expert babysitters by now you managed. Some day you would have to explain to your daughter her parents were sworn enemies but not today. No today your daughter was three years old and teaching Jace to do Taylor Swift choreography with her so they could surprise you.

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[thecomfywriter]

How to Write Narration/Dialogue in a Child’s Perspective:

Blog Intro ToV Official Synopsis Buy my book Join the ToV Community! Read ToV Free

Heyyo! Welcome to a new #thecomfywritertoolbox post! This question came up in discord (this is for you, @the-letterbox-archives) so I thought I’d write a post about it, since I haven’t done one of those in a while.

Before we get into it—as you can tell, I have a new blog post setup!!! I’m really happy with how it turned out, since i wanted to organize my posts better without having all the links bombarding the bottom. So yes, check out the links above ☝️

Now, without further ado… On writing children’s voices.

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Age and Developmental Stages:

Children have a very unique perspective in this world, especially since age and time in terms of childhood works completely different to how it works with adults. A two year age gap between a twelve-year-old and a fourteen-year-old can feel monumental due to the development, life stage, and experience each child has. Twelve-year-olds are still newbies in middle school, probably forking around with their friends, going to recess twice a day and needing to ask permission to get something out of their desk (this is based on the Canadian experience lol. Obviously, it differs between countries). Whereas fourteen-year-olds are freshman in high school. TOTALLY DIFFERENT.

so when writing from a child’s perspective, really consider their age as a determining factor.

a kid trying to fit into their new high school and impress their older classmates will talk far more differently than a preschooler, or a middle schooler.

Listen to audios with children of said demographic speaking:

You’ll notice children tend to have a different cadence and pattern of speech. They hesitate on some words, stutter on others, drift off into though mid-sentence, or jump ship and talk about something completely different. The younger they are, the smaller their attention span, and the more filterless they become, because younger children don’t yet have a grasp on social norms, so they’ll tend to speak their mind and ask more questions.

Another thing to consider here, however, is how they were raised. were they raised to be priss and proper, and speak without stuttering? Do they have a speech coach for that?

Questions to consider when addressing the cadence, tone, and patterns of speech of children:

Do they have a lisp that needs addressing?

Do they speak really quickly and forget to take pauses, meaning they have a lot of run on sentences?

Are they emotionally reactive and yell a lot, or switch between moods fairly quickly?

Vocab and grammar!!!

Again, this is highly dependent on the age demographic of your kid, but younger kids are shit at grammar!!! Especially the funky rules of irregular English verbs. It’s harder for a child, who is taught to recognize the conjugation patterns of ‘-ed’ to signal past tense, all of a sudden be told that saying “telled” is wrong. They might make mistakes like that until they are corrected otherwise.

But again, that’s for the younger kids.

Elementary school kids will chipper chapper with their friends and family a lot. They seek to impress most of the time. They’ll get excited over things they know really well and most kids giggle a lot/get excited when it comes to talk about them (some kids have social anxiety and won’t, but instead go quiet). When I worked summer camp, the kids would always try to grab me and smile really bright whenever attention was on them and whatever they wanted to talk about. They made a lot of silly jokes, but acted mighty proud whenever people laughed at them. So they’d repeat the joke louder. Again. And again. And again.

It’s an age of asking approval from adults and peers. But also an age when the idea of authority inspires submission, because they regard those authority figures in a higher esteem. So the way an elementary kid will be boisterous and laugh amongst friends is probably not how they’ll talk to adults. Until that adult earns their trust, they might just shrink into themselves and be as small as possible.

Then you have the defiant age group. The preteens to teenagers. They have their own slang, oftentimes. A way to differentiate those from the “in-group” and those on the “out-group”. if the out-group uses their slang, “Eww… that’s so weird. Why are you talking like that? Look at her, she’s trying to be cool, oh my god. That’s so embarrassing.”

Yeah, this is the age where passive aggressive bullying is strong lmao.

Younger kids trying to be mean will be blunt with it: “Your mom smells like old socks!”

Older kids? Older kids will give you stank eyes, lock gazes with their friends, try to fight off a laugh, and then look back at you all sobered up. There’s more exclusivity at this age, but also a wider range of vocab. That vocab is used creatively, as a means to express oneself in a unique way, or as representative to the group they identify with. So bear that in mind.

And then you have young adults but womp womp this is about kids LMAO.

Perspective:

LASTLY… Consider perspective. How does a child see the world? Bright and colourful? Hopeful? Do they notice the butterflies that flutter across the sky, the ones that adults have gotten used to, so their eyes glaze over? Do they smile at every stranger because their parents taught them to always be kind? Do they spot an ice cream truck down the street and LOCK IN before proceeding to plead their parents for money to go buy some?

What are the things the child values? What are the things that they haven’t wrapped their head around yet? if you’re trying to write in the perspective of a child, these are the things to consider.

Oh yeah. Bonus point. Children gets embarrassed TEN TIMES easier than adults do. Specifically preteens and teenagers. Younger children are a bit more shameless, because again… No concept of social norms. But preteens have started to develop this shame and insecurity and MY GOD it burns.

So TLDR:

Consider age demographic (SPECIFIC AGE)

Consider grammar mistakes and vocabulary limitations

Differences in peer-peer interactions vs adult-child interactions

Consider perspective

Cadence, tone, and speech patterns

Watch videos and observe the way children speak in different contexts

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That’s all folks! Have a mighty bopping Saturday!

Happy Writing!

[sashasgunwound]

slow dance

clairo x reader fic

summary: met with a sudden change, you have a difficult time with commitment with claire.

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, made this half asleep, grammar is prob bad, same with the pov i switched from “i” to “you” .. , NO use of y/n.. i love this fic its so cutesy

you stood there with a group of friends in the dance hall, somewhere you never dared to go. but it was your best friends birthday and honestly, there was so much change in your life that a little dance wouldn’t hurt.

so, there you were— dancing, drinking, laughing with your friends. but you catch a glance from a familiar face. you thought it was impossible but, you were proved wrong. it was claire, your ex-situationship, claire. you turned away, your mood changed. a clear frown was painted on your face that your friend couldn’t miss. “honey, everything okay?” faye asked, her soft smile and genuine tone brought you comfort. “ah, yes.. i just saw claire.” i spoke, looking down at the floor. “oh my.. well, dear why don’t you dance with her? you haven’t gave her a chance to explain herself after you cut her off.” she spoke, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes filled with concern and hope. “but… i was moving. i—“ i was cut off. “you had all the time in the world to tell her. please, go, for me.” she smiled eagerly, pushing you into claire’s direction. you pressed your lips together and exhaled heavily. “okay.” you said to yourself, quietly. you gathered the courage to approach claire, a soft wave and a smile. she squinted and half smiled. “hey!” she was half yelling over the music. “hi!” i smiled, my stomach had millions and billions of butterflies, all of a sudden i had the need to puke. “are you okay?” she laughed out loud, her eyebrows raised. ���yeah! yeah, i’m fine! what about you?” you laughed, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “i’m doing alright!” claire smiled her eyes shimmering with joy. a familiar sight that warmed your heart. “you haven’t changed a bit, huh?” she nodded her head, grinning, her hand held out, asking for a dance. “no,” you returning a grin back, “and neither have you.” gently placing your hand into hers.

as you danced your night away, slowly—and unknowingly the has come to an end. the faint candle lights scattered around the elegant and beautiful halls. decorated and designed with much dedication and attention, you observed the room and you slow danced with claire. her warm body swallowing you whole, it felt as if you were floating, a high you wished to never end. as your bodies moved together in unison. the faint sound of the record fading out in the background, people gathering to leave, now it’s a few gathered around, just taking in the moment, and so are you and claire. she held you close and with care and love. “i’m sorry.” you muttered out. for a moment, it felt like the room went silent before she answered.“for?” she hummed softly against your head. “i.. i wasn’t the best to you, i left you in the dark, i never told you i was moving so far away.. especially a different city. that’s completely unfair to you.” you confessed, you shook your head softly. she chuckled “oh.” she paused, forming a response, “well, i figured you had moved away, after i went to your apartment and accidently interrupted an old couple who had moved in.” “but.. in all honestly. i care about you, and i knew if you wanted to tell me about it.. you would.” she paused again “i didn’t wanna push, especially with all the things going on.” she spoke, her words falling out of her mouth like she had already planned on what to say. you stayed in her arms, absorbing her words in.

“i love you.” your words gushing out. a sudden pause in her pace of dance. you tensed up, regretting your confession. moments pass of silence, your heart pounding and thoughts racing. then claire broke the silence. “i.. i feel the same—i’ve always have.” she pulled away from you, her wavy golden brownish hair sticking up, her eyes tearing up and becoming red. “i .. i wish i weren’t so bad with my commitment..” you muttered, looking up at her, lips parted and doe eyed. a sudden wave of awareness hit, you took in her beauty, astonished and hypnotized. “don’t worry.” she laughed. you slightly inch closer and closer to her lips, your eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips. finally you closed your eyes and embraced her soft and gentle lips. slowly wrapping your arms around her neck and melting into her touch..

…

as you both reconnected, it felt like it all made sense, she made you feel stable and grounded—and it made you realize. maybe she was the one after all, after all the trials and errors, overthinking and fear. in order to love, is to let go. let go of that fear and worry.

tags: @downins @beabadooppie @wheeniemyloove

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 2 of These Are Not Our Masks!

@daboyau

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list! And please let me know if I forgot someone!

Donnie and Mikey land on top of the skate ramp of their lair with a thump. Donnie wants to think about the logic of Leo sending them to this area of all places but the reality of the situation sinks in.

Half of them are missing.

The Foot probably have Raph and Leo.

He drops the pieces of his tech bō and hits his fist on the ground.

“All I needed was time! I might have been able to get us all out!”

Mikey grips his shoulder.

“Donnie! We have to get dad and April! Now! We have to go help them!”

Donnie takes a quick breath then nods and slides down the ramp with him. They both run as fast as possible to where their father is sleeping on his recliner.

Mikey tearfully shakes him.

“Dad! They took them!”

Splinter snorts awake, only opening one eye before closing it again.

“Learn to share boys, don’t take each other’s things….”

Donnie stands in front of him, tense hands at his sides in fists.

“Raph and Leo are gone!”

Splinter jumps out of his seat.

“What!? Where!? How!?”

Mikey starts rambling so fast that neither of them can understand them.

Donnie places his hand over his mouth.

“Raph was possessed by a mask and The Foot showed up! Leo got us to safety but they probably took the both of them!”

Mikey moves the hand, holding it close.

“We need to get them back!”

Splinter’s mind races a mile a minute.

“Let April know, we’re going to need her help.”

Donnie quickly texts an SOS message for her to meet them at the lair. He’s not sure how calling her would go.

She might start trying to find them by herself and he can’t let her get taken too.

“Done. I’m grabbing some things from my lab in the meantime.”

Mikey squeezes his hand again.

“Can I come with you too?”

Donnie glances at Splinter who he swears is greying more than ever at the moment despite it not being scientifically possible to happen so fast.

“Stay here with father. I won’t take long.

Mikey slowly let’s go of his hand hugs Splinter tightly instead.

Splinter hugs back just as tight.

Donnie leaves the two to head towards his lab.

Once he gets there, he stares at the hologram framed photos he keeps on the wall.

He remembers why they’re there.

Before he had gotten better at keeping his lab on lockdown, Raph went inside to look for a weight Donnie had borrowed to use for an invention.

That’s how Donnie walked in on Raph absolutely bawling his eyes out over a photo of him kept in a desk drawer.

That’s also how he came across both Mikey and Leo during the next couple of days after that pretending they weren’t looking for photos of themselves as well.

The obvious decision was having photos of all of them that could switch out daily so that no one would feel he was picking favorites.

Purely logical, it’s not like his mysterious bad boy self cared about the emotions behind it.

He also definitely never checked the footage from the security camera in the lab to see his brothers come look at the photos.

His finger gingerly touches the photo of Raph and Leo play wrestling.

It was a far cry from the fight that happened earlier.

“It figures that it was the two of you that were taken…..I’m going to get you back as quickly as possible and never let you forget I did. How dare you force me to take over responsibility this way?”

“Dude, you’re totally like just talking to yourself right now.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. comments as he flies over.

“You’re acting like that’s a rare occurrence. I need you to gather up as much as my tech as you can and power up the tracker monitor.”

“Oh no, are our bros missing?”

Donnie sighs.

“Yes. Raph and Leo. Most likely kidnapped.”

“I’ll get right on it. Leo was supposed to sneak me out to play basketball, he needs to come back.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. goes to do as he’s been asked.

Donnie knows he should be mad that Leo was going to go behind his shell but honestly he finds it nice that his brothers treat S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. like a nephew in a similar way that he treats him like a son.

He sighs.

It’s annoying to be so easily swayed by how much he loves his brothers sometimes.

Of course it was never too often because he will shove someone into a wall for a pizza slice if need be but it still happens.

Eventually, his robotic son comes back with the battle shell containing all his weaponry and a bag filled with smaller items he’s been tinkering with.

He’s never, ever going to admit that they’re new gifts he made because he felt guilty about the original ones.

Donnie also gets handed the tracker tablet and quickly sets it up.

“Both of them are in Foot headquarters. Problematic, but at least it’s a location we’re already aware of. Help me take everything to father and Mikey.”

The two of them begin making their way back.

Donnie pauses when he sees the symbols representing Raph and Leo blink away. He panics, knowing that the trackers are under their skin so the only way they could be removed would be painful.

Panic fades into confusion when they appear again in a different location.

The lair.

Did they manage to get away?

He hears screaming coming from where he left Mikey and Splinter.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and Donnie heavily pick up the pace to their destination.

They get there just in time to see Raph and Leo attacking their brother and father.

Donnie fills with fear as he sees that Leo is sporting a mask now too, bringing along two katanas instead of his usual, singular odachi.

These katanas have an unnatural green glow radiating off them and seem freshly sharpened.

Leo himself has all his muscles tensed up as if he’s been extremely deliberate with every movement he’s choosing. It’s a far cry from the typical, more loose and relaxed stance he had before that always gave the false impression of him being unprepared.

“Mikey! Mikey! Want to hear a joke? Come on, you want to! I know you do!” He says in almost a frenzy.

Mikey dodges several jabs from the katanas.

“Leo, you can tell one after you tell me what happened!”

“It’s the best joke you’ll ever hear! Let me tell it! Mikey!”

“Leo! Stop!”

Donnie feels an odd sense of familiarity wash over him as he realize he knows exactly what his brother is doing.

One of Leo’s most obviously qualities is how much he talks. He likes hearing the sound of his own voice. In the past, his distracting Splinter is what allowed them to take snacks from the kitchen without alerting their father.

Now this skill is being used against family again in a much more directly harmful way.

“Watch out! He just the distraction!” Donnie warns too late.

His little brother gets pummeled into the ground by Raph who was just waiting for an opportunity. He lifts him up with just one hand and slams him against the floor hard enough to leave a crack on it.

“Mikey!” Donnie and Splinter shout in unison.

He quickly retracts into his shell to avoid more damage being done.

Donnie reaches into the bag and tosses small, colorful balls at Raph explodes powder all across his face.

It hurts him to do this.

Not because he’s hitting his brother, they do that all the time during pranks and teasing like most brothers do.

It’s because he made these for battle purposes. It’s because he made these with Mikey in mind. It’s because they were all supposed to be able to use them together, not against each other in this way.

Raph growls and hisses as he tries to get the powder out of his eyes. He has difficulty because of the mask around them.

Splinter pulls Mikey shell to safety. It’s pressed close against his chest. He can’t believe this is happening.

Maybe if he had just trained them properly earlier in their lives this wouldn’t have happened. If he just prepared them, remembered what his grandpa tried so hard to teach him, they would know the dangers he placed in the back of his mind.

“Orange! Are you okay!?”

Mikey pokes his head out.

“I am! We need to worry about them!”

Splinter sighs in relief and hands him to Donnie.

“Take care of your brother. I will handle Blue and Red.”

Donnie holds onto Mikey tightly.

“Father, be careful.”

Splinter gently pats his arm and takes a step towards his other sons.

Leo cocks his head, carefully watching him approach. His limbs are twitchy. He taps his katana tips on the ground.

It’s unsure if it’s because he’s ready to strike or he’s still trying to be a distraction.

Raph finally recovers from the powder and opens his eyes. They’re red and teary, but the pupils are slit like an animal ready to strike.

Splinter holds steady.

He’s raised them since the moment they gained consciousness. Despite the moments where getting up was too much to bare, he knew his boys well. He had to in order to help them with their more animalistic tendencies.

Splinter starts reaching his hand out.

Raph opens up his jaw wide, baring his teeth. His snaggle tooth is the most prominent one.

“Red. My sweet boy. I know you are stressed, and you may be scared. Your father is here. I know you don’t wish to hurt me. You just don’t want to be hurt yourself. Please, let me protect you.” Splinter keeps reaching out.

Raph hisses and raises his arm up in warning. Leo bounces from foot to foot in anticipation at the fight to come.

Splinter place his hand over Raph’s and presses their foreheads together.

“I love you.”

Raph’s jaw slowly closes.

He starts whining loudly in a sad way.

“I….I….hurt Mikey. I was gonna hurt you.”

“Shh shh, Orange is fine and you didn’t hurt me. You listened to me. I’m so proud of you.”

Raph smiles softly.

Splinter smiles back.

Leo kicks Splinter in the side, sending him to the floor.

“Dumb and boring! You made me stand too long! Atlas, you know you’re only good for being a beast, Baron Draxum’s attack dog. You can’t kill one measly rat!?”

Raph roars at him.

Leo slams the hilt of his katana into Raph’s skull.

Raph tackles him.

They begin wrestling around.

Leo had always been the one Raph chose to play wrestle with. Raph always gave not so believable excuses for it but Donnie and Mikey knew the real reason.

He was afraid of hurting them.

Leo was different. He took prank hits like a champ. He was the last one after Raph to ever have to go to their dad crying about a a real injury.

He of course would be dramatic about things that weren’t really anything, but not ever actual injuries. Those were hidden behind his smile and a wave of his hand.

This wrestling is vicious.

They trade blows back and forth without a trace of hesitation. Leo’s face remains unbruised because his mask covers basically all of it, but his body is being bruised up.

Raph’s mask is another story so Leo punches and scratches with no remorse. It’s actually the opposite, like he’s enjoying it.

Mikey pops the rest of his limbs out and pushes himself away from Donnie’s grasp. He rushes towards his brothers.

“Mikey! No!” Donnie reaches out, but he’s too fast.

Mikey somehow manages to pull them both apart and away from each other. He has to hold Raph back from going after Leo again.

Leo slides back and hunches forward to go after the two of them.

“Blue! Stop! Those are your brothers!” Splinter shouts.

“They can take a hit! Maybe that’s why I should go a little further.” Leo cackles as he raises one of the katanas.

Raph starts getting harder for Mikey to hold back. Splinter visibly wracks his brain for a way to get through to him before things get bad again.

The click and hiss of Donnie releasing his battle shell causes everyone to look his way. Leo’s body language shows that he’s surprised by this move.

“You want us vulnerable? I’m the most vulnerable you can get and you know it.” Donnie starts walking forward.

Leo doesn’t move at first, but takes a step back when Donnie gets close.

“What’s wrong? Come on, you’ve got all the chance in the world right now Leo. I’m right here.” Donnie gets even closer.

Leo grips his katanas tightly.

“I’ll stab you straight through.”

Donnie turns his shell to him, hoping he doesn’t notice how badly his arms shake as he holds them out.

“Take your shot then! Or….ugh….a….stab at it? I can’t believe I just said that….”

Leo freezes.

Donnie glances back at him, waiting with baited breath for something to happen. Everyone else is in a similar state.

Leo’s shoulders start jerking a bit. The others worry it’s not working and that Donnie is about to be turned into a turtlekabob.

Then, Leo finally starts doubling over in laughter.

“A stab at it! That is so good!”

Donnie finally sighs in relief. That was a huge gamble. He’s proud that he was right about what Leo could never resist.

“Welcome back, my son. Let’s work on getting those masks off you both.” Splinter smiles.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Draxum’s voice booms from behind them all.

Things are still clearly far from over.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Determined to Endure

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

A shorter chapter for today. I've been surprisingly busy this week... or maybe just tired lol. In any case, the IRIS arc continues! This time we're focusing on Jackie, Marvin, and Anti. Jackie is approached with a deal, but he tries to find a way around it. Meanwhile, Anti starts to hatch a plan, and Marvin gets taken somewhere for mysterious, but probably not good, reasons. A short summary for a short chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!

More of This AU | | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Read on AO3 under CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Jackie had been pretty much stuck in this room for days. He was going a little bit crazy from the lack of interaction. C&C guards showed up for each meal, dropping off food, but they might as well have been robots for how much they responded to him. The longer he was stuck in here, the more tempting it was to hit one of them with a chair and scream at them to answer him. He didn’t think that being stuck in here was worse than his time spent with Distorter, but it was still awful being trapped in here.

After what felt like ages, something different finally happened. Jackie was lying face-down on the bed when he heard the door open. He assumed that it was meal time, so he didn’t even bother to lift his head. Until... “Dr. Parker?”

“Huh?!” Jackie’s head shot up. He looked over to the side and saw someone sitting at the table. Daniel, the doctor who’d talked to him when he first woke up in IRIS. The door was already closed again. “What are you—You’re back now all of a sudden?!”

“Hello again, Dr. Parker,” Daniel said calmly. “I’m sorry about the long stretch of time without anyone checking in on you.”

Jackie rolled his eyes.

“Please, come over so we can talk,” Daniel continued. 

Sighing, Jackie stood up and walked over to the other chair, sitting down across from Daniel. “What?” he snapped.

“Don’t be so hostile, Jackie,” Daniel said.

“You’ve locked me in a room while you’re experimenting on my friends! I have the right to be a bit fucking hostile!”

Daniel paused. “We don’t want you to be hurt, you know.”

“But my friends are fair game, then?” Jackie muttered.

“No, we don’t want them to be hurt, either,” Daniel said.

“...I just—” Jackie shook his head. “I just frankly don’t believe you.”

Daniel clasped his hands together and smiled, trying to look friendly. “I understand why you wouldn’t. But trust me when I say that everything we’re doing here is necessary. We want this to be as easy for all of you as possible. So if there’s anything you can tell us to help make them comfortable, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Jackie tensed immediately. “You—y-you want information from me?” he whispered. 

“No, not in the way you’re thinking,” Daniel said. “Jackie, you have the ability to help your friends right now. For example, we know that Schneeplestein suffers from some sort of psychosis, and we can figure out his medication, but we don’t know if there’s anything that will upset him—”

“This whole thing is something that’ll ‘upset’ him!” Jackie growled.

“Alright, let’s start with that,” Daniel said. “What specifically would get to him?”

“Being fucking trapped? I—I-I can’t believe that you all don’t realize this! I can’t believe that I was part of this fucking company!”

Daniel was quiet for a while. “Dr. Parker,” he finally said seriously. “If you don't help us take care of your friends, they will not be helped at all.”

Jackie blinked. “Is that... a threat?”

“It is a fact. We do not know anything about them. Not really. We know facts that we found, but we don’t know about their personalities or emotional needs. You have been the friendliest of them so far—” As Daniel said that, Jackie barely managed to hold himself back from saying ‘I wonder why?!’ “—so you are the only one we can approach with questions. We would hate for your friends to suffer more than necessary. For example, Marvin Moore has some sort of chronic fatigue, yes? If we push him too far, that fatigue might become pain.”

Jackie went pale. That certainly sounded like a threat. “Wh-what are you guys going to do, that would—that would hurt him?”

“That’s the point, we don’t know,” Daniel emphasized. “But you could help us, and help him by proxy.” He leaned forward. “Who knows what might happen if you stay silent.”

“Y-you... you can’t...” Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat. He wanted to refuse to help IRIS. But... part of him couldn’t help but worry. What if Daniel was right? What if his friends ended up more hurt because he didn’t say anything?

Then he thought about what the others would say if they knew he’d told IRIS anything about them. Much less if IRIS used information he’d given them against his friends. Anti and Schneep would be pissed, Marvin probably would too... JJ would be kind about it, but he’d no doubt feel betrayed. He didn’t think that any of the guys would hold it against him for too long, but he would feel terrible knowing what he’d done, how he’d made them feel.

At the same time, he didn’t want to anger IRIS... just in case. Maybe he could pretend to cooperate? “Wh-what do you want to know?” he asked slowly.

“Tell us about your friend Marvin,” Daniel said. “Does he have any special requirements?”

“Um... h-he usually needs support to walk,” Jackie said slowly. “It helps keep him from getting tired.”

“I see. We believe he doesn’t have any anomalous abilities, is that correct?”

Jackie nodded. “Yeah. He’s just a guy.”

Daniel frowned doubtfully. He glanced at the camera in the corner—wait, shit, those are the WTCHR cameras! They’re able to detect lying! Did they know he wasn’t being entirely sincere in his responses? Well they probably knew he was panicking now, at least!

“And what about your anomalous friend?” Daniel asked. “Our medical scans have shown that his throat is damaged.”

“JJ?” Jackie paused, trying to slow down his thoughts to piece together a response that wouldn’t give away too much information. “He—yes, Distorter attacked him. He probably would’ve died if... a friend hadn’t intervened.”

“Is ALTR 53815-A related to his anomalous abilities?” Daniel asked.

“N-no, he just... has that, I think...” Don’t imply magicians exist, don’t imply magicians exist, don’t imply—

Daniel nodded slowly. “Were any of your friends in possession of any anomalous items?”

Jackie laughed, trying to sound lighthearted and not nervous. “I think I’d know about that,” he said, choosing his words carefully. It’s not an outright denial or agreement, but it should imply something. Don’t mention the cards, don’t mention the cards— “Besides, this—that question isn’t related to helping my friends, is it?”

“Well, if your friends have been exposed to any anomalous items they could still be suffering from the effect of—” Daniel paused. His hand went up to his ear for a second. Did he have some sort of earpiece? If he did, it must have been very small, because Jackie couldn’t see it. “...Perhaps we should be frank with you,” Daniel said. “We recovered strange playing cards from one of your friends. Marvin, I believe?”

“...oh?” Jackie instinctively wanted to tense up, but he forced himself to stay relaxed.

“We separated them from him,” Daniel said. “And yet, even after we did that, Marvin has been showing strange, anomalous properties.”

Jackie sat up straight. “Huh? What sort of properties?”

“He seemingly appeared out of nowhere,” Daniel said. “But on closer inspection, it seems as though he entered some sort of time lag.”

“Time what?”

“You’re familiar with lag in a video game, yes?” Daniel said. “When it stutters and glitches. Sometimes in a game with multiple people, someone who’s lagging can appear to phase through objects or appear out of nowhere. Your friend Marvin briefly entered a state similar to that in reality.”

“...huh.” Jackie leaned back. “I... don’t know anything about that. I’m... sorry.” He paused. “Maybe it’s... caused by the anomalous cards? Did you all do something to them when you took them from him?”

Daniel shook his head. “The cards did enter a strange state, but it happened on its own, not because of anything we did.”

Jackie wasn’t sure he believed that. But he didn’t think Daniel would lie about the ‘time lag.’ It was such a specific thing. What happened? Had Marvin cast some sort of spell with his cards before they all got knocked out by IRIS? “I don’t know anything about that,” Jackie repeated.

Daniel looked at him quietly for a moment. Scanned him with his eyes. Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat and stared back. After a moment, Daniel nodded. “Alright. Let’s continue. Now, your friend... ‘Anti,’ he’s called. We couldn’t find any legal records of his birth name, which is actually extraordinary in a way. Do you know anything about him that we should know?”

Jackie hesitated. “Um.. no... not really...” He wondered how Anti was getting along, actually. He hadn’t been reacting to the situation well in that brief moment he last saw him... 

———————

This camera was made of fucking rock.

Anti had thought he’d be able to move it slightly—it seemed to be built on a hinge or a swivel so it could scan his room. If he could just jam it or something—but noooo, this might as well have been a solid piece of plastic for all it could move.

Biting back a growl of frustration, he carefully climbed down from the chair. He’d dragged it over beneath the camera so they couldn’t see him—he was fairly sure this spot directly under it was a blind spot—but they could probably still hear him. He had to be extra cautious so they wouldn’t catch on and stop him. No weird sounds or sudden movements. He’d even taken his shoes off so his footsteps would be quieter. 

Back on solid ground again, he sat down heavily on the chair, leaning back, tilting his head up so he was looking at the underside of the camera. Maybe if he had some sort of tool... Maybe the next time they came to get him for one of those fucked-up experiments—because he was sure there would be another one of those—he could try to grab something.

But he had no idea how long that would be.

Patient. He had to be patient. He had to not lose his fucking mind like he did before. That’d be... difficult. But he could try. For his friends.

———————

Marvin was trying to nap when the door opened. He sat up straight immediately, and saw a pair of guards enter the room. “Wh-what is this?” he asked, voice showing more fear than he wanted. He still vividly remembered all the strangeness surrounding the last time they showed up to take him somewhere. Putting aside the accidental happenings with his failed escape attempt and his cards, there was... that experiment. He shuddered just recalling the daze he’d been in, the way Anti kept trying to reach out to him, but his voice had sounded so distant... 

Without saying a word, the guards walked towards him. “Whoa, h-hey, back up!” Marvin scrambled backwards, but he was cornered. The guards grabbed him roughly by the shirt, ignoring his yelp, and dragged him off the bed, where they adjusted their hold so they were gripping his arms. Then they marched out of the room. In the hallway outside there was another pair of guards. They said nothing to each other, just walked down the hall, pulling Marvin with them.

“H-hey, is t’is abou’ what happened last time?” Marvin asked nervously. “You—t’ere’s no hard feelin’s, righ’?”

The guards didn’t say anything. But their tight grip on his arms felt personal, somehow.

They dragged him in the same direction he’d escaped before—going through the set of double doors into that white-walled highway, and then down to the elevator at the end. One of the guards took out a keycard and scanned it before pressing a button to call the elevator. Marvin briefly considered trying to break free while they were waiting—but then one of the guards casually took something off his belt and pointed it at Marvin. He froze. That couldn’t be a real gun. Or at least, not one that shot bullets. But it probably shot something nasty nonetheless. The implication was clear. He was not to escape.

When the elevator arrived, the guards dragged him in and quickly pressed the button second from the top. The doors closed, and Marvin tried to push back the sense of finality that came with that.

The ride was short. Soon, the elevator stopped and the guards pulled Marvin out onto a new floor. One which, bizarrely enough, reminded Marvin of a hospital. He wasn’t sure why. There was just something in the plaster walls and tile floor that caused the feeling. Maybe part of the reason was because, unlike the other floor, the elevator here opened onto an open space instead of a hallway. A big square room, with a corridor on the walls left, right, and ahead. The central area of the room had a bunch of desks with computers. 

The walls of the room also had some windowed sections, and some glass doors. Marvin glanced into the nearest one. Ah—there were smaller rooms lining this larger one, and the glass walls and doors let the people in the main room look into them. For some reason, his first thought was ‘it’s like a zoo.’ A bunch of terrariums for people to gawk at.

Which meant his stomach dropped when the guards started dragging him towards one of these smaller rooms. Inside he could see a table and two chairs across from each other, just like the setup in his room. “Wh-what is t’is?” Marvin asked, voice cracking slightly. “What are you goin’ t’do to me?!”

The guards remained silent. The one with the keycard pulled it out again, scanning it on a spot next to the glass door. There was a beep, and another guard reached forward to slide it open while the other two dragged Marvin into the room. They forcefully sat him down on one of the chairs and grabbed his arms, shoving his hands down on the table. There was a pair of handcuffs attached to the surface. “H-hey, let’s—” he started to say, but while he was talking the guards already snapped the manacles onto his wrists. They were cold and tight. He tested the strength of them, but of course he wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the chain.

And then the guards left. But Marvin could see them still hovering around outside through the glass wall. No doubt doing their job and guarding him. But... there was no one else in sight. Nobody was here to observe whatever test was going to happen. There wasn’t even a camera in the room.

 Marvin could only sit there and wonder.

———————

Anti had wondered when his sitting under the camera would draw attention. Well, it turned out, it didn’t take long. Or maybe the guards walking into the room were coincidental. Either way, he sat up straight when they appeared. “Subject, why are you sitting in the corner?” One asked.

“Trying to avoid you all staring at me,” Anti grumbled.

The three guards in the room exchanged glances. Then two of them walked forward and unceremoniously grabbed Anti, yanking him upwards. He growled, but fought the urge to struggle. He was trying to play nice to get on IRIS’s good side, wasn’t he? But it was hard to just stay quiet and let the guards manhandle him down the hallway.

They took him to the same room as last time, but now the setup was different. Instead of the U-shape of desks and that weird stone tablet in the center, there were about four loose desks all set up around a central chair with straps. Now that—that he couldn’t just go quietly into, as panic immediately kicked his fight or flight instinct into gear. Anti tried to struggle, pulling against the grip of the guards. And—he actually managed to pull an arm free! He wasn’t about to question it! He punched the other guard in the face and bolted forward.

But then—

Something pierced his side and a jolt of pain spread outwards from that spot. Anti screamed, recognizing the feeling. A taser! No! He had to—get away! 

He threw himself forward, but only managed to crash into one of the desks, jittering on the floor aimlessly. Some junk from the desk fell to the ground around him. A few pens, a set of keys, some paperclips, and... one of those L-shaped bits of metal, what were they called? An allen wrench.

As the pain from the shock faded, and the guards bent down to grab Anti, an idea hit him. He scrambled forwards, pretending that he was trying to get away from the guards, but while he was moving he put his hand on top of the allen wrench and quickly curled his fingers around it. Maybe this was the tool he needed! It’d be better than trying to mess with the camera with his bare hands, at least. 

The guards grabbed him, hoisting him up and pulling him towards the chair with straps in the center of the room. And that’s when Anti realized he couldn’t just hold the wrench in his hand the whole time. They’d notice it! And he could let go of it and lose it easily!  His mind scrambled for a solution to this, and the answer it reached might’ve been less than ideal. Anti pulled his arm free again and ducked his head, pretending like he was gearing up for a big escape attempt—but actually shoved the wrench in his mouth.

Smack! One of the guards hit him in the side of the head. Anti cried out—but managed to keep the wrench hidden, partially beneath his tongue. Good. Good, that’s... all he needed. He could slump into the chair now. He didn’t even have the energy to bristle indignantly when the guards pulled the straps across his wrists and chest.

He leaned back, breathing slowly. Okay. He just needed to make it through whatever they had planned for him. He saw a door on the side of the room open and some people in white coats walk in and over to the desks. One of them grumbled something and bent over, scooping up the junk that Anti had knocked over in his struggle. He waited, tense, but the scientist didn’t seem to notice the missing wrench. And neither did the guards or any of the other scientists. They were all busy starting out their test, flipping switches and pressing buttons on strange instruments sitting on the desks.

Anti closed his eyes. He didn’t want to know what they were doing. Even as a strange humming sound started up, he didn’t want to know. He just had to endure whatever was going to happen now.

———————

Marvin felt like he’d been waiting in the room for hours. He’d fiddled with the chains on the handcuffs repeatedly, but found there was no wiggle room at all. The metal cuffs were basically skin tight, and he hated them.

As time passed, more people showed up in the other, bigger room. Most of them were wearing white coats: more scientists. Many of them gave him constant glances, and some stared at him outright. He resolved to not look at them in turn... but his nerves about this whole situation meant his eyes kept wandering in that direction, locking onto their every movement, despite what he actually wished.

But then, while watching—

“Jackie!” Marvin gasped.

The elevator doors opened and Jackie walked out, escorted by more guards. He saw Marvin shortly after Marvin saw him, and stumbled in surprise. The two of them stared at each other. They hadn’t seen each other once since they’d been taken to IRIS.

Then the guards, frustrated, grabbed Jackie and started pulling him towards the room where Marvin was sitting. He quickly started walking again, keeping pace with the guards. They took him to the room where Marvin was sitting, scanning the keycard and opening the door, walking in with him. “Marvin, are you alright?” Jackie asked hurriedly. “You’re not hurt or anything are you?!”

“No, Jackie, I’m fine,” Marvin reassured him. “I-I haven’t seen any of you, other t’an Anti. Are you alrigh’?”

“You saw Anti?” Jackie repeated. “I-I did too, for a moment, we both got moved to different rooms.”

“Yeah I heard t’at happenin’ nearby.”

“Dr. Parker, sit down,” said one of the guards.

Jackie glanced at them uneasily, but reluctantly sat down in the chair on the other side of the table. The guards picked up a second pair of handcuffs and chained him down as well. “I’m... fine by the way,” Jackie said quietly. “Just been stuck in a room for days. When did you see Anti?”

Marvin leaned forward. “T’ese bastards did somet’ing to us.” He explained the experiment as quickly as he could. While he did that, the guards retreated from the room, leaving just the two of them inside. Scientists in white coats wandered over, staring at the two of them through the window, holding clipboards and electronic tablets.

Jackie shivered. “That’s terrible.”

“I-I still don’ know why they did it,” Marvin said quietly.

“I’m guessing that weird tablet was somehow similar to Distorter,” Jackie said. “Or... the house on Aspen Street. They wanted to see how you’d react to something similar, since you a-and Anti were most... affected by Distorter.”

“Most affected?! You got trapped in there for nine focking months!”

Jackie smiled darkly. “Yeah... but that was a while ago, compared to you two.”

Marvin nodded. “I s’ppose... w-well, anyt’ing else you have to share?”

“I saw that this is the top floor of five, so our cells are probably on the ground to third floor,” Jackie said. “Or there might be a basement, but I doubt that we’re on that floor. That might be where Volt and JJ are, though.”

“Okay... so—”

A screeching sound filled the room. Jackie winced, and Marvin cried out and tried to cover his ears, but his arms couldn’t move that far while chained to the table. What was that? Some sort of... feedback?

“Hello Dr. Parker,” a voice said from an intercom.

Jackie started. “Daniel?”

“You know t’at voice?” Marvin asked, surprised.

“K-kinda, vaguely,” Jackie said. “From when I was uh... employed here. We talked a couple times.”

“Enough times t’be on a first-name basis?”

“Dr. Parker, IRIS is very disappointed in you,” Daniel continued. “We had offered you a way to help everyone, but you rejected it, lying to our faces.”

Jackie stiffened. “Shiiiit.”

“Huh? What?” Marvin looked around. The scientists on the other side of the glass walls gave no acknowledgement to them. But they had to hear what was happening, right? This glass didn’t seem soundproof.

“During our talk this morning, you denied all knowledge of the anomalous cards found on Mr. Moore’s person. But this was clearly a falsehood.”

“They asked you about my cards?!” Marvin gasped.

“IRIS is very disappointed,” Daniel repeated. “You could have helped us in so much.”

“V-vague promises of help aren’t enough to sway me,” Jackie said nervously.

Part of the ceiling lowered, a circular glass tube. Inside of it was—

“My cards!” Marvin gasped. He stood up and reached for them, but they remained above his head, well out of reach of his chained hand

“The room you’re in is currently being monitored for signs of any anomalies,” Daniel said. “If something strange happens, we will know. And if it’s something dangerous, we have the ability to stop it.” The bottom of the glass tube slid open and the cards fluttered down to the table—luckily none of them fell off the table and all landed on the surface. “You two are going to show some examples of how these cards work.”

Marvin blinked. “Um... well, we... we don’ exactly know...” It wasn’t a lie, was it? The cards had almost infinite possible ways they could be arranged, and he didn’t remember most of them.

“Then you will figure it out,” Daniel said calmly. 

Jackie pulled at the handcuffs attaching him to the table. He looked at Marvin. “Um... sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything about the cards at all, but I—I thought—I-I don’t know what I thought, I guess I just... maybe they would leave us alone? I-I don’t know. I didn’t want to say anything but I thought they wouldn’t leave me alone... but I should’ve known they would find out I was hiding something.”

“What? Are you sayin’ t’is wouldn’ be happenin’ if ye kept your mouth shut?” Marvin gestured at the room around them. “Pretty sure it would happen anyway.”

“...still.” Jackie shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like I fucked something up.”

Marvin laughed. “Honestly, it’s possible ye jus’ got yourself in trouble wit’ t’at.”

“...yeaaah.” Jackie pursed his lips. “Well, uh... are we going to do what they asked? Figure out what your cards do?”

Marvin glanced at the scientists. They were poised to take notes. “Well... what happens if we don’?”

At that moment, both sets of cuffs started glowing white. Pain jolted up Marvin’s wrists and he shouted out. Jackie also let out a short scream.

“The less you cooperate, the higher intensity the electric shocks will be,” Daniel said calmly.

“Wh-what the fuck?” Jackie gasped. “Just—j-just completely dropping the pretense, are we? I’m not g-going to help or join any company that shocks people into compliance!”

“If either of you try anything, the other will also be shocked in turn,” Daniel continued.

“F-fun,” Marvin commented. “T’at’s probably why you’re here, Jackie. Leverage.”

“Fun,” Jackie repeated, going pale. “So... now what?”

“We coul’ continue to resist, if we wanted,” Marvin said. “But... I-I don’ know how long we could hold out. Maybe we coul’ just... try... messing wit’ the cards? Maybe we’ll find somet’ing helpful.”

Jackie nodded slowly. He looked down at the cards and took a deep breath. “Alright.” He started flipping the cards over so they were all face-down, the runes on their backs visible. “But you know they’re watching us.” He jerked his head to the side, towards the glass door. “Anything we know, they’ll know.”

Marvin nodded slowly. “But... what else can we do righ’ now?”

“I-I don’t... know...” Jackie sighed. “I’m not... good in these sorts of situations... I-I’m not a fighter like Anti, or Schneep, or even you.”

“I’m flattered t’at you t’ink I’m a fighter,” Marvin said. He also began sorting out the cards, recognizing each rune and recalling what they do. Idly, he started looking for ways they could match up. 

“You are.” Jackie nodded. “You have this fire in you that I just don’t have.”

“You have a fire too, Jackie. I don’ t’ink anyone will blame you for not puttin’ it towards fightin’ t’ese guys. We’re jus’ normal people, you know. We’re jus’... doin’ our best to endure t’is. Like we have been for so long.”

Jackie didn’t reply right away. The two of them started making patterns with the cards. None of them seemed to do anything. There were a couple that gave off a few flashes of light, causing the two of them to tense and the scientists outside to lean closer with their clipboards, but there were no obvious effects. “...I’m tired, Marvin,” Jackie whispered. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, I want to do something, but at the same time, I’m so tired.”

Marvin nodded. “I’m tired, too. It can’ have been too long in here, but I’m tired. I t’ink we’re not meant to be in a constant state of ‘desperate to escape’.”

Jackie laughed. “No, no we’re not.”

“But we can’ give up, y’know,” Marvin continued. “We have people outside waitin’ for us. No matter how distant they feel righ’ now.” He pushed some more cards into place. “We have to keep goin’, for them, and for Jems, Anti, Schneep—for all of—”

Everything turned fuzzy.

Marvin blinked. Did something get in his eye...? He reached up to rub his eyes... and realized something. He wasn’t fuzzy. His body was totally clear. It was just the world around him that was strangely out of focus. This realization was followed by the subsequent realization that he had somehow slipped out of the handcuffs. “Jackie!” he gasped. “I’m out!” He shot to his feet.

Jackie didn’t move. Jackie didn’t look up. And the scientists outside the glass door didn’t react, either. Marvin blinked. He walked over towards the glass wall. One of the scientists was pulling a strange facial expression, like they were in the middle of a sneeze. Was that... exactly what was happening? Did time freeze around him?

Marvin looked back at the cards on the table. He hadn’t been going for any specific pattern. It looked like several of them had been pushed into a vague circle. He leaned closer, trying to remember what runes were on the back—

But then suddenly he was back in the chair, cuffs around his wrists again. He gasped as the world became clear again.

Jackie’s head snapped up. “Marvin?! Are you okay?!”

“I-I’m fine, I—” Marvin looked around. What was that? He looked down at the cards again...wait a minute. Those were new. Or, not new, but they weren’t there before. The joker cards.

Jackie followed his gaze. “Oh!” He started. “What’re those ones? With the spiral runes?”

“T’ose are the joker cards,” Marvin explained. “But... what’re they doin’ here? They were in some separate room before...”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I tried to escape and found them t’ere,” Marvin explained. “Doin’ t’is weird ‘swirling around each other’ t’ing. Why are they here now?”

Suddenly, the glass door slid open and guards rushed in, surrounding the two of them. Marvin yelped in surprise as they grabbed him and pulled him away from the cards, causing the cuffs to dig into his skin as they yanked his arms forward. “Hey, what?!” Jackie shouted as they did the same to him. Two guards stepped forward and unlocked the handcuffs, then a couple more pulled their arms back.

“J-Jackie!” Marvin shouted as the guards dragged him out of the room. “Jackie!”

“Marvin!” Jackie struggled against the guards holding him back. “D-don’t panic! You—you must’ve done something! Th-that could be good!” The glass door slid closed, separating them, but Marvin could still hear Jackie shouting. “Just hang on! We’ll get through this together!”

“Y-yeah!” Marvin nodded, trying to dig in his heels. He could hear some of the scientists muttering something. What were they talking about? Something about something synchronizing? The “feed” from some sort of camera? Were they monitoring something else at the same time as they were watching Marvin and Jackie. “I’ll see you again, Jackie! I promise!”

“I’ll see you!” Jackie shouted.

Then the guards dragged Marvin into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

[whatavery]

Crosstalk (Art Trade)

My part of an art trade I did with Melon over on twitter, featuring their OC Ethel Freeman and everyone's favorite weasel-faced Marigold, Wes! Had fun with this one, I'm glad you liked it, Melon!

Crosstalk: Noun: "When two communications channels play over each other, usually unintentionally."

...

“… and that marks the third raid on an illegal drinking establishment this month. While authorities have refused to comment on the matter, they have reassured me that all will be taken care of in an orderly fashion.” Ethel shuffled her notes for a moment as she took a short breather. The gray-furred cat took a moment, before she continued. “And on the topic of doing things in an orderly fashion, do be careful out there tomorrow, all you drivers. It’s getting real slippery out there. This has been Ethel Freeman with the Tin Twist Ticket. Have a good night.”

Ethel flicked a few switches and just like that, she was off the air. She checked her wristwatch for the time. It was getting rather late by now, almost ten. She was definitely one of the latest broadcasts, though she didn’t have much of a choice. These days, most stations were limited in when and how much they’d broadcast. Not many shows had female hosts and even fewer sole female hosts. But Ethel was doing what she enjoyed and she was doing it well – at least she thought she was doing rather well for herself.

Giving a yawn, the American Curl cat gave a self-satisfied smile. Life was good. Ethel ran a hand through her curly, black locks. With the holiday season, she had plenty on her mind; presents to buy, people to give them to… and people to keep at bay.

A knock on her studio door made her jump and whip around, her glasses almost falling off in the process. Framed in the door of her office stood a tall, looming figure clad in a black suit. Had it not been for the hunched figure’s white dress shirt and blood red tie, their clothes may very well have blended in with their black fur.

“Happy holidays,” the tall stranger sneered at Ethel, tone rather sarcastic. The scarred, elongated face was one Ethel recognized. If anything, it was one that was very hard to forget. His ominously bright, almost glowing eyes were trained on the heavyset American Curl.

“What are you here for, Mr. Clyde?” Ethel’s lips were pursed as she looked upon the weasel-faced stranger with mounting dislike. It wasn't the first time he'd appeared unannounced in her studio, though Ethel couldn’t exactly say that his other visits had been much better.

“That’s not a very festive greeting, now is it, missy?” he practically crooned at her as he moved into the room. While he himself had never done anything to harm Ethel, seeing him approaching still made her tense up. On the left side of his chest, Ethel spotted the familiar, orange flower pin, and she noticed he hadn't bothered wiping his boots of snow. “I was here to give you an invitation-”

“If it’s from your boss, tell him I’m still not interested,” the shorter female insisted. She scowled up at Mr. Clyde as he stopped in front of her. He had quite a inches on her in terms of height, he’d have even more if he wasn't as hunched. Despite being slicked back, the fur on his head looked slightly messy.

“Fighting words…” he said sarcastically as he looked down at her with a look that braver people than Ethel would have found intimidating. But she wasn't afraid of Wes Clyde, not in the least. “Are you sure? It’s a Christmas party and everything…”

Ethel gave a defiant nod and crossed her arms. “Quite sure. You don’t need to keep coming back to try and make me join you and your… your…”

“Yes…?” Ethel scowled when Mr. Clyde smirked at her, looking amused, as though he couldn’t wait to hear what she wanted to call him and his people.

“You and your band of low-lives.”

“Low-lives…? That’s just hurtful…” Ethel momentarily looked surprised when she heard those words, staring up into those yellow eyes. But when she saw the smirk on Mr. Clyde’s face, however, she knew he wasn't actually hurt – and there was no need to be sympathetic. “We’re proper folks. We run a business, just like you. Don’t you profit off our work?”

“If you mean all those supposed accidents…” Ethel said, squinting slightly up at Mr. Clyde, who grinned down at her. He took a step back and reached into his jacket pocket.

“That I do, li’l missy,” he told her casually, pulling out a cigarette and a light. Ethel didn’t even get a chance to tell him not to smoke in her studio before he lit the cigarette, slipping it between his lips. When he exhaled, he was at least kind enough to blow the smoke away from Ethel. “Don't try to change the subject, though – you’re profiting off our handiwork too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she snorted at him, arms crossed as she looked up at him. “I just report on what your people are doing.”

The black cat gave a snort of his own and blew smoke to a point right above Ethel's head. “And you make how much as a radio host…?”

At this Ethel fell silent, scowling at the taller male, who grinned at her in a triumphant way. He took another drag of his cigarette, before he gestured towards the door. “Come, let’s go for a walk, li’l missy.”

A walk alone with him of all people? The thought made Ethel grimace slightly. She wasn't going to walk the cold streets with a man like Wes Clyde. “And what makes you think I’d want to be seen with you? I don’t want to be associated with you Marigolds…!”

“And people say I’m nasty,” the weasel-faced cat said, though he didn’t look like her words actually hurt him. “Please, just a short li’l walk. It’s nothing major, I just want to talk business…”

“I’m not doing business with you people, I already-”

“Or we can just talk,” the taller cat said, shrugging. He flashed the gray cat a grin and blew smoke towards the floor of all places. Ethel watched as the cloud of cigarette smoke made impact with the floor, washing over her feet before it dissipated. “Can’t blame a man for yearning for some lovely company, now can you?”

Ethel faltered slightly, fixing Mr. Clyde with a rather suspicious look. His words were dripping with a smarminess she wasn't quite sure she liked. The American Curl raised an eyebrow at him, while he simply returned it with a look to match his tone of voice.

As it turned out, the night air was indeed rather cold, which was no surprise. Clad in a thick, warm winter coat, Ethel stepped out onto the street. She could feel the air nipping at her face whenever a breeze blew past and she could see her breath in the air before her. The sky above the city was mostly clear, though the streets were still covered in quite a bit of snow, especially the sidewalks.

“Why are you really here?” Ethel asked as she turned to Mr. Clyde, the tall, hunched cat smirking at her. He'd thrown a coat of his own on as well on the way out, though it didn’t look particularly warm to Ethel. “Surely you didn’t stop by just to give me an invitation…”

“Maybe I did,” the black cat responded with a shrug. When he started walking by Ethel’s side, he offered his arm to her, though she simply looked at it as though it were a venomous snake that could strike at any time. When she didn’t take it, Mr. Clyde simply chuckled. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“I just don’t imagine you coming to hassle a radio host is actually part of your job…” the shorter cat noted coolly. When the hunched man chuckled, she turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “… what?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised, li’l missy. You ain't the first radio host I've had to have a little talk with,” Mr. Clyde told her rather cryptically. They walked down the darkened street at a slow pace, snow crunching under their boots. Thankfully it wasn't too slippery, the soles of Ethel's winter boots thankfully keeping her mostly secure on her feet.

“A little talk? Who else did you talk to?” she asked, tone suspicious as she looked up at him. She knew quite a few other people who worked in radio, though not all of them did so as regularly as she did. She broadcast when she was able to, whether that be in the morning or the afternoon. Not many radio shows had set schedules, hers certainly didn’t, for the most part.

“Oh, really only that Morrison fella. But he wasn't as interesting as you, I've got to admit,” Mr. Clyde told her, smirking at her. “Nor would I want to invite that guy to a party…”

Once more Ethel looked at the black cat in surprise. He offered her his arm again, but she still didn’t take it. He didn’t appear to mind, however, and simply continued walking by the gray cat’s side. Ethel cleared her throat some. “You really want me to go, don’t you? I’m starting to think it’s personal and not business, Mr. Clyde…”

This time, it was the weasel-faced cat who fixed her with a curious glance. Mr. Clyde looked surprised, but quickly resumed smirking at her. “Well, in that case, you may call me Wes, li’l missy.”

Ethel's left ear gave an irritated flick. “Could you please stop calling me that?”

“What, you don’t like it? Fine, fine, Ms. Freeman.” Ethel stumbled lightly, a particularly slippery patch of ice under her foot. She had to grab the nearest thing and that just so happened to be the black cat’s arm. He was clearly taken by surprise as she nearly pulled him down with her, but he steadied himself to keep her from falling.

“Ah, now you’ll hold my arm – when you almost fall,” Wes teased her, smirking as they moved past the slippery area and turned a corner. Ethel let go almost immediately, however and simply walked beside him again.

“Trust me, I didn’t enjoy it,” she told him, though she felt her cheeks warming noticeably in the cold winter night. Ethel adjusted her spectacles as they continued on their way, though before long she realized how far away from her studio he was taking her. She’d hoped it would be a short walk around the block, but realized she had been foolish in her assumption. Ethel stopped.

“What’s the matter?” Wes asked, turning back towards her. He watched the American Curl with a look of intrigue. He smirked a bit when he seemed to realize. “Come now, it’s not far…”

“I’m not going into that… that…”

“That what?” Wes was almost sneering at her as he lit another cigarette.

“That den of lions!”

“Please, as if I’d let anything happen to you. You'd be our special guest for the night, there’s no need to make a fuzz, li’l missy.” He gave a snort, before taking the first drag of the cigarette. Wes extended his arm to Ethel once more, tilting his head slightly upwards, giving her a different view of his scarred face, looking almost pleasant – almost handsome… “What do you say?”

Ethel stood by the taller cat, frowning up at him. She looked back the way they'd come from, then up ahead. She knew that he was leading her further and further away from her studio. Her eyes met his for a moment, before she broke eye contact again. “… is it far?”

“Not at all, li’l missy, just another few blocks – faster to get there than to go back,” Wes insisted, grinning down at her. He offered her his arm yet again. Despite herself, Ethel took hold. Through his clothes, she could feel that he had quite a bit of lean muscle. The slender black cat looked particularly pleased with himself as he guided her along.

Ethel didn’t know much about Wes’ employers other than the fact that they dabbled in very unsavory business. She’d been exposed to Marigold thanks to her fascination with crime and the various stories that tended to pop up. She knew for a fact that he worked for people who weren't exactly on the proper side of the law. What would it even be like to be among people like that?

“See, this ain't so bad, is it?” Wes asked, flashing her another smirk as he guided her down the street. Ethel said nothing. She wasn't so sure. He was starting to act considerably nicer, but was it all an act to lure her in and spring a trap on her?

“It’s… something,” Ethel half-muttered, her brain going over the possible scenarios. Did she know too much? Was that why he was bringing her in? Or were they going to plant evidence on her or have her incriminated in some other way?

“You’re shaking.” Wes’ words caught Ethel off-guard. She turned to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you are.”

“It’s cold,” she simply noted, gripping his arm more firmly, as if to show her displeasure in a more physical manner.

“That it is, li’l missy, that it is…” he noted, blowing smoke up towards the sky, before it dissipated into the cool night air. “If you’re scared, you've got nothing to worry about. You can trust me.”

“But if I don’t…?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. Wes stopped with her and watched her for a moment. Then he let out a short laugh. “… what’s so funny?”

“Oh, I just find it funny – here you are holding my arm like we’re on a date and yet… you don’t trust me?” the black cat sneered down at her. Ethel cleared her throat, but said nothing, leaving the weasel-faced cat to chuckle to himself. “Don't be scared, li’l missy, I’ll take good care of you.”

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 2) Chapter Nine

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Nine: The Lab

Summary: (Y/N) and Mando help take down a base but find some strange traces of imperial experimentation

            “Empty base, huh?” questioned Mando as the group exited the elevator. He stood by the bodies of several stormtroopers. This was not a skeleton crew at all. It was a fully functioning base.

            Karga ignored his pointed remark. “The reactor should be set in the heat shaft. If we drain the cooling lines, this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes.”

            “Look,” said Mythrol, gazing at some machinery. “It’s a mint Trexler Marauder. We can get a lot for this on the black market.”

            “And it’s gonna get vaporized like the rest of this base. Now, let’s go,” said Mando.

            They continued on. They remained careful as they entered the first corridor. Mando kept in front of (Y/N) in case any shots came for them, and (Y/N) held their blaster carefully.

            Quickly, they made their way to the control center. A man was looking through the security feed, and Cara grabbed him before he could inform anyone of their presence. Mando checked the maps for the heat shaft while Karga grabbed a keycode from the officer.

            “I found the heat shaft,” said Mando.

            “Let’s go,” said (Y/N).

            The halls were empty as they walked through. Still, (Y/N) was convinced this base wasn’t as abandoned as it seemed. Gideon had been here, and that spelled trouble.

            “The access corridor should be right past this junction,” said Mando.

            “Stormtroopers,” warned (Y/N) quietly, pulling everyone back.

            Mando glanced down at them. They had seen the stormtroopers before anyone else could. From around a corner, too. Strange. He leaned out and motioned everyone to move forward when the way was clear.

            “There. Mythrol, slice that door,” ordered Mando.

            “Use the code cylinder,” said Karga, handing the key from the officer over.

            Mythrol opened the door, and the group held their blasters up in case someone was waiting. The way was clear, though, and they continued on. The heat billowed up from the shaft below, the lava flow glowed bright.

            “Whoa,” exclaimed Mythrol, backing up.

            “Yeah, ‘whoa’ is right,” said Karga. He gestured to a control center at the side. “There it is. Get on the reactor controls, drain the coolant lines. We’ll watch the doors.”

            “Me?” asked Mythrol, looking down.

            “Yes, you,” ordered Karga.

            “But I’m afraid o’ heights. And heat. And lava,” said Mythrol nervously.

            “I’ll do it,” said (Y/N), putting their blaster down and putting their dagger next to it. They grabbed the code cylinder from Mythrol and gauged the distance between them and the platform.

            “Wait, kid—” Mando reached out, but (Y/N) was already moving.

            Smaller than Mythrol and more used to climbing around the trees and barns on a farm, (Y/N) leapt across to the control center and crept along the rails at the edge. The heat radiating from the lava was immense, but they took a deep breath and pushed it out of their mind.

            Mando tensed, and Cara and Karga were frozen as they watched (Y/N). None of them wanted them hurt, and Mando in particular was ready to risk himself and his jetpack to save them if needed. The heat would damage it and possibly send him falling, but if he could save (Y/N), he would risk it.

            (Y/N) pushed the code cylinder in and pressed a few buttons. Luckily, the controls were similar to those of the Razorcrest Mando had been teaching them about, so they managed to find the right program. They pressed a button, and an alarm began flashing as the coolant lines switched off. Below, the lava began to bubble.

            “Verd’ika,” said Mando worriedly, holding out his hand.

            (Y/N) rocked back on their heels to gain some momentum and threw themself back. Mando caught them, turned, and pushed them towards the exit. (Y/N) scooped up their weapons and holstered their dagger.

            “It’s gonna blow,” warned (Y/N).

            “Go, go,” said Mando, pushing them forward.

            “How long do we have?” asked Cara as they ran.

            “Ten minutes at most,” said Karga.

            “Stormtroopers,” said Mando, stopping. He motioned to another hallway. “Go that way.”

            They circled back and continued on until they reached a hall where two men were burning disks of information at a desk. They gasped as they saw the group.

            “Destroy it!” shouted one to the other, grabbing his blaster.

            He shot at them while the other shot the controls. The group from Nevarro shot back and managed to fall the pair of officers. Mando and (Y/N) walked through the hall carefully, gazing around at the strange glowing tubes with humanoid forms floating within.

            “What the…” breathed Karga.

            “I thought you said this was a forward operating base,” said Cara.

            “I thought it was,” said Karga, equally confused.

            “No, this isn’t a military operation. This is a lab,” said Cara.

            “Gideon,” said (Y/N). The others looked at them. “When the Client first had me and the kid, there were plenty of scientists and equipment. They started testing for something when Mando saved us. It makes sense that he would have a secret lab for whatever experiments he’s been planning.”

            Mando nodded in agreement, though his anger at Gideon grew deeper. He wanted to take Mando’s kids and turn them into experiments. He wanted to hurt Mando’s kids.

            “We need to get into that system and figure out what’s going on,” said Cara.

            “What about the reactor—” began Mythrol.

            “Do it!” ordered Cara.

            Mythrol scampered away, afraid of Cara’s intensity.

            “I don’t like this,” said Mando.

(Y/N) nodded and shivered. Whatever Gideon had tried to do to them, they were glad it hadn’t happened.

            “Got it,” said Mythrol, turning on an old hologram recording.

            Mando and (Y/N) stepped forward as they recognized Dr. Pershing, the doctor who had worked for the Client.

            “Replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure,” said the recording. “There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we’ll find donors with higher M-count, though.”

            M-count? thought (Y/N). Is that what gives me powers? Or is this another experiment of Gideon’s?

            “I recommend that we suspend all experimentation,” continued Dr. Pershing’s hologram. “I fear that the donors will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion.”

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, and Mando’s hand curled into a fist.

            “Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood,” said Dr. Pershing. “The Child is small and the Ushti too ill-nourished and weak at the moment, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount from each without killing them.”

            Mando reached out and held (Y/N)’s shoulder, pulling them protectively closer to him.

            “If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donors,” said Dr. Pershing.

            Me and the Child, thought (Y/N), feeling sick with anger. “Donors?” Victims is the right word.

            “I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon,” said Dr. Pershing.

            (Y/N)’s lip curled into a sneer at the name. They despised him. They wished they had been the one to kill him, even more so now that they saw the careless way he experimented with people’s lives.

            “This must be an old transmission,” said Mando. “Moff Gideon is dead.”

            “No,” said Mythrol. “This recording’s three days old.”

            (Y/N) paled. That meant Gideon was still out there, and he was still looking for them. He still wanted to use them for his sick experiments.

            Mando narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet as his stomach twisted. Gideon was alive and searching for his kids. (Y/N) and the Child were still in danger, still hunted. “If Gideon’s alive then…”

            His thought was interrupted as stormtroopers ran into the lab and began firing. Mando and Cara shot them down, and as more troopers arrived, the group hid in the crevices between tubes to shoot out. One-by-one, the stormtroopers fell to Mando, (Y/N), Cara, and Karga’s blasters. Even Mythrol managed to have courage enough to shoot one down.

            “Mando, you need to make sure the kid’s okay,” said (Y/N) worriedly. “Jet back to Nevarro and make sure Gideon hasn’t done anything.” Mando to pick them up, but they shook their head. “You’ll be faster on your own.”

            “What if Gideon is here? What if you get hurt?” questioned Mando, concern seeping into his voice. He couldn’t leave (Y/N) and let them get injured.

            “Mando,” said Cara. “We’ll take care of them. I promise.”

            Mando hesitated, and (Y/N) gestured for him to move. “Go. I’ll be okay. We need to make sure the Child is.”

            Mando nodded shortly. “Please, Verd’ika, be careful.”

            “I will,” promised (Y/N).

            The group split up, Mando running in one direction while Mythrol, Karga, Cara, and (Y/N) headed in another to find the speeder. Several stormtroopers attempted to stop them, but they were no match for Cara, Karga, and (Y/N)’s aim.

            Finally, they made it back to the platform above the canyon. Unfortunately, stormtroopers were waiting for an ambush and emerged from the crates and began firing. The group ducked behind some boxes and fired form overtop at the troopers.

            “We’re trapped!” cried Mythrol.

            “No shit!” said (Y/N), firing at the troopers and ducking down again.

            “Cover me!” said Cara

            She ran to the exposed Trexler Marauder as Karga, Mythrol, and (Y/N) lay down cover. She turned on the tank and drove to her group. They used the armor shell to cover themselves as they ran on.

            Cara drove into the base, but the doors closed. She swung the tank around and stared at the attacking troopers and the cliffside.

            “You’re not considering going over—” began Mythrol fearfully.

            “Go for it!” said (Y/N), holding their seat tight.

            “Hang on!” shouted Cara as she sped towards the edge of the platform.

            They flew off the side and down towards the bottom of the canyon. Karga and Mythrol screamed, and (Y/N) braced themself as they landed on the speeder below. The tank survived, however, and they sped off through the canyon.

            “We’ve got company,” warned (Y/N), spying several stormtroopers on bikes flying up behind on the radar.

            “Man the guns,” said Cara to Karga.

            “Copy that,” said Karga.

            The three stormtrooper sped up alongside them. Karga shot one down, but the other got around. Cara slammed the tank into the side of the canyon and crushed a stormtrooper. Only one was left, and he jumped from his bike onto the tank. Karga swiveled the gun and shot the trooper down.

            That wasn’t the end of the fight, however. Above them, the telltale cry of Tie-fighters echoed through the canyon. Even as their base exploded behind them, they acted as ordered and chased down the tank.

            “Dank farrik,” cursed (Y/N) as they saw the radar. “Tie-fighters! Four!”

            “Take evasive! I’ve got this,” said Karga.

            “Hang on, kid. Mando will kill me if you get hurt because of my driving,” said Cara.

            (Y/N) gripped their chair tight as Mythrol screamed and was thrown side-to-side as the tank rocked back and forth. Several shots from the Tie-fighters hit the tank, and luckily, the walls held, but with the canyon walls on either side, they were stuck, so if the tank couldn’t take hits for long, they were toast.

            “What’s going on back there? Why aren’t we shooting back?” questioned Cara.

            “You wanna come back here and try this?! Be my guest!” shouted Karga. “Can’t you get this thing to go any faster?”

            “Come on,” muttered Cara.

            Karga finally shot one fighter down. Unfortunately, he had to abandon the gun as the scraps of the ship smashed into the back of the tank. They had no firepower any more. The canyon opened up in front of them. They were nearly back to Nevarro.

            “We’re almost there!” cried Mythrol.

            “Come on,” murmured (Y/N). I’m almost back to Mando. He has the kid safe. We’re almost back.

            The tank flew across the plains, free from the canyon, but not yet free of the three Tie-fighters tailing them. As they swooped overhead, a ship exploded. (Y/N) grinned in relief. The Razorcrest, flew down from the sky, defending them. (Y/N) watched excitedly as Mando chased after the fleeing Tie-fighters and shot them down.

            Cara hit the breaks just outside of Nevarro, and the group jumped out. (Y/N) stole Karga’s binocs and watched Mando flying after the final Tie-fighter. They nearly cheered as he shot down the final one. They watched the Razorcrest touch down and ran towards Mando as he exited with the Child waddling beside him.

            “Mando!” said (Y/N) in relief. “Are you two okay?”

            “Everything was fine,” said Mando. He took them by the shoulders and examined them. “Are you alright?”

            (Y/N) nodded. “Rough ride, but I’m fine.”

            “Great job, my friend,” said Karga, walking up. “What do I owe ya?”

            “With the repairs, we’ll call it even,” said Mando.

            “Safe travels. If you need any help of an adventure, call us up,” said Cara. “It was great to work with you again.”

            “And if you want any jobs, let me know. I still have some contacts,” said Karga.

            Mando nodded.

            “And kid, you’ve gotten good,” said Cara. She smirked. “Good luck with this guy and the Jedi people.”

            “If you ever need a place to stay, Nevarro is open to you,” said Karga.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling and turning to walk into the Razorcrest. They paused and looked around the repaired ship. Their smile fell from their face. “I guess we’re heading to Corvus, next.”

            “Yes,” said Mando. He too felt the press of the knowledge (Y/N) could would be leaving him soon. He paused. There were many things he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his chest. “We’ll leave now. With Gideon out there, we need to move quickly.”

            “Right,” said (Y/N), their eyes downcast.

l

            “Moff Gideon,” said an officer formally. “The tracking beacon has been installed on the Razorcrest.”

            “Does he still have the assets?” questioned Gideon.

            “Yes. Our source confirmed it,” said the officer.

            “And we will be ready,” said Gideon. The Child and the Ushti are the key to my victory. They will not escape this time.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[miikishii]

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 2

main masterlist

series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: Things get awkward working with Ango. Dazai is acting strange. Pretty Dazai focused...? I think.

warnings: Suggestive at the end hehe

“Sakaguchi from the Special Division is in the front waiting for you, come out when you’re ready.” Haruno prompts you.

“I’ll be a minute.”

You slept alone last night, no Dazai to snooze your alarms for you. He never made it easier to sleep, but he was pleasant company for the hours both of you spent awake. Reluctantly, you get up from your chair and walk to the front, when Ango sees you he gives you a meaningful nod and follows you back to your office.

“The paperwork, please.” He hands it to you carefully,

You had some work to do regarding Kyouka’s entrance to the agency, some documents detailing her ability, and its history that would be passed off to the Special Division. 

“...There’s a lot to get through,” He mumbles, pushing his glasses up.

“Yes, there is.” 

“Why don’t we make some tea?” he asks meekly.

You sigh as you get up to walk toward the kitchen. He notices the lack of sleep in your eyes. Boiling the water is awkward. Ango just stands out of your way as best he can. Anyone who entered the room made a point to get out quickly. When the water finally boils and the tea is finally steeped, you make your way back to your office and get to work. Things are tense, but they go by fast enough.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” Ango sighs,

“With what?” You question.

“All the work with the Special Division.” His response is quick and sounds forced.

“Anything else?” He shakes his head disappointedly and looks at his own papers.

“Are you sure?” your words are harsh and aggravated; he nods.

“You’re such a liar.” You scoff,

“I was going to apologize because obviously working with me upsets you.”

“There it is.” 

Although you’re acting so cold you do feel a little bad. You figure it must be difficult for him too. You break the awkward silence,

“Did Dazai acknowledge you at all when you came in?” You ask, a little softer than before. He laughs a little,

“No…” He takes a deep breath in, “He calls when he needs me, that’s all I ask.”

You nod meaningfully. The workday’s almost over and you both still have plenty to get through.

“We have a lot left to do and it’s getting late. Let’s continue tomorrow.”

“Of course.” He excuses himself and thanks you for your cooperation.

As soon as Ango’s gone you switch over to some other reports due by the end of the week. Soon, there are 3 minutes left until you can go home. Dazai pops in to check on you,

“Wrapping things up?”

“Yeah-” he cuts you off,

“Dinner tonight?” 

“Sure.”

“I’ll be waiting downstairs.” As soon as he arrived he disappeared.

You collect your things, turn off your computer, and put your teacup in the dishwasher. When you meet him downstairs he has a strange look on his face. When he looks at you it changes. The two of you walk side by side on the way to your usual spot, a local noodle shop. The owner recognizes you as “that strange couple” and sets you up at your regular table; it’s pushed away toward the corner of the restaurant. You’ve been going there since you went underground all those years ago. 

“How’d today go?”

“Fine, Why?”

“Just curious.” He shrugs.

Your conversations have been dry lately. You think even the waitress might notice it. Although, she still hasn’t realized that you and Dazai aren’t really a couple. You don’t blame her for thinking it, though. You’ve always been alone together; he felt like a part of you.

“Is that really all you have to say about it?” he pries,

“Well, you know how it is; it’s just difficult to see him, I wish it wasn’t.”

He thinks on this for a moment. He looks like he wants to ask something but he doesn’t. 

“Did you do any work today?” your question seems more like a dig at him,

“Of course!” he scoffs, “I’m always very productive, you know.”

You roll your eyes at him. When you’re handed the bill (as usual) Dazai takes it from you.

“I’ll handle it this time,” he smiles, charming as ever. You give him a suspicious look,

“What do you want from me?”

“Your time and hospitality, my dear, nothing you don’t give me on the regular.” He winks.

You don’t just let it go but push it aside for now. On your walk home, his steps are in sync with yours and he feels extra close.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? You’re being clingy.”

“It’s as I said, nothing you don’t give me on the regular.” You purse your lips.

“You’re so weird.” You suspect something but, again, you push it aside.

When you arrive at your apartment he makes himself at home. As you lay on the couch, watching a show to keep you busy, Dazai comes to lay beside you. For a while, he just sits there calmly, but eventually, he rolls over on top of you.

“Hi,” You smile and run your fingers through his hair.

“Hello,” his eyes scan your face.

“Do you need something?” You ask playfully.

He hums and brings himself to hover over your neck, dipping down to kiss it lightly. A hand falls to your waist. You tangle a hand back into his hair and pull him down for a kiss on the lips. When he pulls away he smiles. You smile back but give him a knowing look,

“You must really want something from me.” you joke. You hadn’t forgotten.

“This,” he breathes, “this.”

And somehow you’re disappointed. When you wake up, an annoying amount of marks strewn about your neck and collarbone, you curse his antics. Yet, you question if that’s truly all it was he wanted.

Note: I looooved writing the end :))))) Please lmk what I did right (or wrong!) I love feedback! Also, maybe some advice on when to release chapters??? I don't have a schedule and I've written probably about 20 chapters by now, haha.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day 15

“I thought you were dead”

Faked death | Under the radar | Trail of blood

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~ 1280 words

CW: blood, choking, knife, stab wound, tied to a chair

(realized how similar this was to Spies Are Forever about halfway through, then just leaned even harder into that lol. enjoy)

the inspiration for the scene/easy listening/musical masterpiece: The Torture Tango from Spies Are Forever

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

“You’ll never get away with this,” Agent hissed arrogantly as his wrists were bound to the rolly chair behind him. Villain turned and started making her way toward the door, clutching the briefcase she’d snatched from his hands moments ago. “My team will stop you from ending the world. We’ve done it before. We can do it again.”

Villain paused as she reached the door, sighing as if she were genuinely embarrassed by Agent’s shortsightedness. “You really are always two steps behind us, aren’t you?”

The door in front of Villain creaked open, revealing a figure bathed in shadows. “We’re saving the world, Agent.” A high, gruff, and impeccably accented voice came from behind. 

“From ever needing people like you again.”

Agent’s breath hitched, and his entire body going taut. The world halted around him. He probably would have collapsed right there if he wasn’t tied to a chair.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. 

“Spy…”

“Long time, no see, old friend.” 

A short, thin man stepped into the light. Unassuming in all the best ways. He was carrying a large bag, leather handles gripped tightly in long, slender fingers, which he placed on the nearby metal table as the rest of the room cleared out. Soon it was just the two of them.

Agent stuttered. “I– I– Spy… I thought you were dead… I saw you die, I was– I was– there… I mourned you!... I couldn’t function–”

“Mm, yes, one would think that when they leave someone for dead, wouldn’t they?” Spy interrupted coldly as he set his tools out on the table, one by one in a neat row. All the blood drained from Agent’s face, a new dread settling in his stomach like a gut punch.

“Fortunately, it takes a bit more than the freezing waters of the Arctic Ocean to kill someone like me.”

The wind howled around them, shivering against the sub-zero temperatures and moist salty air as sea spray crashed up around them. “Come along, Agent.” Spy flirted as Agent slid across the slippery metal grating. “No time to play now, the guard rotation’s about to switch.”

“Oh, calm down ya high-strung Brit. We’ve got what we came for.” Agent teased back, gesturing to what looked like a mini CD clutched in Spy’s hand.

“So– so– so you’re working for the bad guys now?”

Spy held up a pair of pliers to the light, smiling as Agent’s wide eyes tracked them unblinkingly. He set them back down neatly in their row. Right where they belong.

“I am the bad guys now, Agent.” He circled around Agent’s chair. “If that's how you want to put it, at least. If you were on my side of things, you might find it much harder to distinguish between the two.”

“Wait, wait, something’s wrong… Where are the guards?” Spy peaked around the corner tensely.

Realization dawned on Agent, and his eyes went wide. “The silent alarm…” he muttered. Spy whipped around to face his partner head-on. “The what-did-you-say?!”

“Well, I’m not on ‘your side’,” Agent spat, thrashing uselessly against his bonds as Spy grabbed the back of his chair and pushed him slowly closer to the torture table. Tears rimmed his eyes. “Because I’m not a traitor to my country.”

Spy stiffened suddenly. He sucked in a sharp breath. Then let out a very startling laugh. 

“Trait– Traitor to my country?” Spy was almost giggling. ‘Traitor to my country’, you say? ‘Traitor to my country’ says the naive little agent who left me to the dogs.” 

Spy smacked Agent upside the head, before grasping a fistful of hair hair and pulling Agent painfully face-to-face.

“Says the man who is a traitor to his one and only partner.” Spy hissed. Agent felt his breath hot on his face, his brows furrowed in anger so close that Agent had to cross his eyes to see them.

“I– I–... I may have set off an alarm back there and didn’t want to tell you… on accident.” Agent spat out as fast as possible, clenching his eyes shut. Spy stared at him in disbelief. Boots could be heard thumping on the metal grate behind them.

“Run!” Spy grasped Agent by the shirt and pulled him along toward to rendezvous point as fast as he could. Their shoes squeaked against the slippery metal floor.

Spy tsked. “‘Traitor to my country’... I’m saving my country, Agent. I’m bringing it into the modern world. And I’m doing it without your ‘help’.” He air-quoted with his fingers, narrowing his eyes and grasping his knife as he stared off into the middle distance.

“Well, what about us, then?!” Agent begged. “What we had? What we were? Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Spy slipped, crashing to the edge of the platform and barely managing to grasp onto the frigid metal bar of the railing as he skidded under it. His body hung hundreds of feet above midnight black subzero waters. The disk came to a stop right beside him, teetering on the edge. 

“Agent, HELP!”

Agent stared at his friend, dangling over the abyss, struggling to keep a grip on the freezing, water-slick metal. Then to the disk. His one and only goal. The mission objective. 

The stomping behind him grew louder, people shouting out for him to freeze. 

Spy. Disk. Spy. Disk. Spy. Disk. 

“Agent?... “ Spy squeaked. “Please.”

Spy cried out and pulled back the knife, slamming it all the way to the handle into Agent’s shoulder, burying his grief and anger and lost love in the man who had caused it. The man whom he grieved for.

Agent rasped in pain, a sharp and nearly silent gasp inward as the foreign blade suddenly penetrated his body. His eyes bulged and his breath stuttered as he struggled not to scream, muscles spasming around the metal, clutching at the knots that held him bound to the chair.

“That ‘us’ died when you left me for dead.” Spy hissed into Agent’s ear, holding Agent’s body oh so close to his own.

Agent lunged forward and palmed the disk. He scrambled up. He didn’t look back. He ran.

“WAIT AGENT, WAIT!!”

"I liked you better when you were dead," Agent panted through gritted teeth, tears dripping down into his lap.

Spy twisted the knife in Agent’s shoulder, earning him another gasp that nearly turned into a cry of pain. He straightened up, his face a mask of displeased indifference once more. “It’s all the same, Agent. I’m creating a new world now. A better world.”

He pulled the knife out with one last roll of the wrist, and dark, thick blood started gushing down, down, down, staining Agent’s white shirt, the chair, and the cold concrete floor under him. Agent gritted his teeth and whimpered into his lap, desperately trying to control his erratic breathing as the spy turned back to his deadly spread.

“One where you, and the rest of your little team, are completely obsolete. One that you won’t ever get to experience. Because I’ll rip that chance away from you like you tried to do to me. I'm gonna kill you for what you did to me.” 

Spy picked up a short length of rope, running it through his fingers, feeling the fibers scratch against his skin as Agent’s breath hitched behind him, the stench of blood filling his nostrils. How nice it would look around Agent’s neck, slowly choking the life out of his backstabbing lungs. Or maybe Spy could just literally stab him in the back. Or literally rip some things away, so to speak.

So many options. He clutched the rope again. Best to start slow, he wanted to enjoy this.

“But first, Agent,” Spy positioned himself behind his captive, looping the rope around his neck and pulling it tight, cutting off another strangled cry. 

"I’m gonna torture the living shite out of you.”

@whumptember

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#10)

I keep myself distracted long enough for a decently portioned lunch, then head back up the stairs. 

“.......”

I leave the stairwell a floor early. No point rushing up and down more than I have to, and I do need to look up what a kuroko is. Don’t remember seeing dictionaries in the library, but there’s no reason it wouldn’t have any.

“They’d probably make good blunt instruments for Monochap’s purposes.”

Not that the murder up here needed any blunt instruments.

Let’s not think about that. Straight to the bookshelves.

With that mantra, I charge in, barely even registering the reading tables. Just enough to not knock into one. 

“Dictionaries...”

I should probably know what general area they’d be in, but I never did memorize the standard sorting system. I scan the spines at eye level to get a feel instead—computer science here, looks like—then stop.

“.........”

I turn around.

Mahavir waves tentatively from where he stands by another shelf.

“...”

I can’t figure out whether to ask him what he’s doing here or just be glad he’s well enough to leave his room.

“Hi?” Sure, that’s a middle ground.

“Hello.”

“...”

“...”

“I was, er... seeing if anything caught my eye.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay...”

“You were looking for a dictionary?”

“How—”

“Oh. Right.” The whole “talking to myself when I think no one else is around” thing. Which is somehow the least concerning of my mental health things.

“I believe they were on a higher shelf...”

“...but I’m afraid that’s all I remember.”

“We both love our high shelves, I’m sure.”

“Ahah.”

I keep my chin tilted up as I browse the titles. Why is the text so small on half of these? Do they want you to grab things blindly just hoping for the best?

“So you’re feeling better, Mahavir?”

“A bit.”

“Of course, with the... semiquarantine?—precautions, I’ve no business being out and about for more than a few minutes. But that much seems worth trying, I believe.”

“Perhaps I can take something back to read after all. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Here? Hmm...”

For him, I guess something military? Not a genre I’ve felt like reading lately. Linguistics? Can’t say I have much interest in that, either.

I’m really friends with a guy I share no common interests with, huh. Funny how that happens.

Either way, I’m sure he doesn’t mind me taking a minute to think, so I continue browsing the high shelves. Books on law, education... Ironic.

Just as I cross to a few books on language, a screech and thud jolt me.

“Ma—”

I glimpse the soles of his shoes beneath the nearest desk before my attention switches to the person now entering.

“My, my. I thought I’d sensed a sinner nearby.”

I casually approach the chair that was thrown hastily out of Mahavir’s way and lean onto it.

“Tsunyasha. Wouldn’t expect you in the library.”

“Ah, because there’s nothing I’ve need to learn?”

Sure, that’s it.

“But surely you didn’t think you could hide from me here?”

I keep my gaze up, but I can practically feel Mahavir freezing under the desk. At least I can rest easy knowing he must have gone down intentionally, but it’s not enough to keep my palms from sweating. Feels like I’m the only wall fending off an incoming tsunami from an unprepared town. Not sure which of those is who here, either.

“Oh, I would never be so...” What’s a good Tsunyasha-style word for this one?

“...Not feeling up to phrasing it right now. Were you looking for me in particular?”

“Hardly. What reason could I possibly have to fixate upon a single worm?”

I’m sure there are plenty, but most of them involve divine punishment, and I’d rather not bring that up. I seem to be maintaining her attention, though. Not sure Mahavir’s ever getting a chance to sneak past her—he doesn’t have a sneaky bone in his body, anyway—but keeping her distracted can’t hurt.

“Hoping for multiple worms, then?”

“That would be even more senseless.”

“Perhaps a proper demon to battle could be engaging...”

I can just feel Mahavir tensing up further. I bite my tongue before I can hiss that she doesn’t mean him. Not like I can be certain about that, anyway.

“...but it’s not as if I can’t abide a bit of fallow time, hmm?”

“Quite a bit of that lately, isn’t it?”

She sighs dramatically. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you mortals, to feel your short, short years slipping through your fingers.”

“But I fail to pity sinners.”

“Still no interest in helping us get out of here, then?”

“Perhaps as a passing fancy, but no more.”

“Is a passing fancy enough to want to help me deduce who the young master is?”

“I’d only want you to answer a question.” Not gonna ask for any more than that from her. Even getting an answer is a tall order, really.

“I suppose I can at least hear the request. Go on, whelp.”

“Do you know anything about kurokos?”

I watch her face as carefully as I can, but aside from a blink, I don’t pick up the slightest tell. Was she taken aback for a second, or just succumbing to the normal human need to keep her eyes from drying out? We’ll never know.

“One of those pranceabout little roles you mortals are fond of, yes?”

“I can’t say I care to know more than that.”

“So... a stage thing?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Pathetic as all your other ways of entertaining yourselves, but nothing beyond my expectations.”

“I see. Thanks.” 

Actual information from Tsunyasha? Who’d’ve thunk. Guess it’s a little easier when I’m not asking her about herself. Unless, of course, I am... But I’m trying not to jump to conclusions with that.

She nods. “I believe I’ll excuse you now.”

“From the conversation or the room?”

“Oh, I suppose you can stay in your feeble room of papers for now.”

“As much of a waste of your few moments on this earth it may be.”

With that, she spins silently on her heel and strides away, scarf-thing trailing in her wake. I stay poised, nails digging into the chair back, and let out a long breath. She doesn’t come back. Still, I check the hall before returning to the table and tugging the chair back out of the way.

“She’s gone.”

For a second I wonder if Mahavir’s fallen asleep under there, but then he groans and starts to shuffle backward. The carpet muffles his movements and voice both.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He crawls back a little further and stops.

“You, uh, need a hand?”

“If you could...”

Making a mental note to wash my hands thoroughly after this, I do my best to wrangle him back to a standing position. I’m sure his appetite hasn’t been great lately, but if he’s lost any weight, I sure can’t tell.

“Thank you... again.”

“Don’t mention it, again.”

I check the hall one more time before backtracking to the shelves. Don’t get much browsing done before my attention strays back to Mahavir. He stands in the same place, staring blankly at the open doorway.

“I know you’re not leaving your room much right now...”

“...but you’ll have to talk to her eventually, you know.”

“............”

“I’ll push it as far into the future as I can, but you have to prepare yourself. Won’t help anyone if you panic and...”

“...”

“...pass out, most likely.”

“Er...”

“Of course.”

He takes a deep breath.

“But what on earth could I possibly do?”

“...”

“You can always try apologizing. I know you’d mean it.”

“..............”

“Odds 10-to-1 she’ll maintain she has no idea what happened and consider it some kind of general sinner-type thing.”

“You’ve a point, I suppose.”

“But still, I...”

“..........”

“.......”

We’ve already gone through this can of worms—no sense trying to pry the lid off all over again. Especially not out here in the relative open.

“Something to think about. But like I said, I’ll try to stave it off—don’t worry too hard just yet.”

“For now, we should get back to your room. You’re not looking too steady.”

“.......”

He musters up the energy to sigh and nod. I scout things out ahead and manage to guide him back to the dorm without any collisions.

“Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes...”

Nothing left to say as he heads inside for another round of isolation.

“.......”

Well, that’s another fire put out for now. Maybe I can take a breather before I jump back into my young master investigations.

I made progress, anyway, right? No confirmation that Tsunyasha’s our kuroko, but she at least knows what it is.

Or would she have denied even that much, if she was trying to keep her talent a secret? Maybe if I can just find some way into her study hall...

”......”

But like I said. Breather first.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[talsyn]

Sector 43

Snippet of original story and character from "Sector 43" Picture from canvas

Never these steps felt so heavy to climb. There are days where he regrets the decision of living in the 12th floor apartment, but the view, compensates for the effort. He scrambles through the keychain while catching his breath until he unlocks the door and lets the weight of his body open it. In the dark, Bryan feels for the switch in the wall and flick it up but the light was still out. He grunts, lean on the wall switching it on and off waiting for a different result, when a scratch familiar voice startle him.

"I've been waiting for you."

The silhouette of a man sits at the kitchen table, with a still and straight posture denounce his position in this society.

"Sorry to break in like this. I know we don't get along very well, but I need you to listen to me. I have something very important to tell you. Please…" the man motions for him "Take a sit.

Bryan feels an acid sensation going down his throat. The uniform wear by the man shows that you do not need to work side by side with this type of people to recognise them has the authority figure. These agents are set in group of three and patrol the streets, but this one was alone. Bryan force himself to let go the door handle, the only thing keeping him grounded and attached to the existence of the outside world. The door shuts, and a wide smile appears on the Agent face, before they are left alone in the dark.

Seconds pass and a faint blue light hovers over them. To Bryan, these blind seconds were an eternity, and the fact he is now face to face with this enforcer, is enough to make his heart jump. They are examples of perfect citizens so their image needs to translate that ideal. The first thing Bryan notice is the man’s hair. Long with a greasy texture that reflects the light. A familiar sight, but he can't remember from where.

"Bryan Tudor. How was your shift today? Tired?"

"Yes. It was a busy day at the factory." He massage his shoulders to release the tense look of the Agent over him. An eternity of seconds wash over and he is forced to break the silence. "C-can I help you, sir?"

The Agent rubs his thumb on the lip, hiding the pleasure he is having from this small interaction.

"Can’t I pay a visit to an old friend of mine?"

So that's why the face looks familiar and judging by his age, they probably share the same class. Is this the kid who used to sit alone in the library? Using the term friend seems but a stretch.

"Of course…" Bryan still washes away his doubts, moving to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?"

"Sit. Down!" His voice that was soft turned into a rigid one. "Ever since we were kids I had an odd feeling about you. Finding ways to be surrounded by people. You can fool them, but not me. So I am not surprise you got involved." he tilt his head and went back to use his soft voice. "I am going to need the names, Bryan."

"The names? The names of what?"

"Of my mom’s book club friends. I’m an Agent! What names do you think? I know you meet them last night."

"I don’t know what you are talking about."

"The names of the leaders."

"After my shift I went to the market..."

"Do you think I care about your routine? I want their names, Bryan. I know what they are planning. I know you know. I know how much you know and are part of it. Freedom givers." he chuckles. "They are going to cause a wound in this society. Violence inciting violence... It will never end."

"Then arrest me!"

For the first time words came out of Bryan mouth with confident, that he raise his chest.

"Arrest you?" the Agent eyebrows rise. "I can’t arrest you, insignificant people. How will that make an impact on the society minds? No Bryan, I need the heads. Not you." he chuckles and pass his hand in the chin. "You have the heart in the right place, but the mind is not align. You are not going to make a name out of yourself. You are weak. So much you make me have pity on you. I pity you Bryan. But I can help you. You want to make something of yourself, a martyr, then do the right thing. I need the names Bryan." the Agent reach to his hand in a gesture of comfort. "We can’t choose how we live, but we can choose how we die."

Bryan looks to the darkness, where a comfort object hangs in the wall. That pressure over his shoulders grip his muscles. To long he has carried this burden. There are times where he though in giving up. The Agent is right, and he Bryan got the called back to reality he has been ignoring.

"Ahlex Priddy..." he mumbles between his lips, avoiding to look at the picture on the wall. To their faces. "Kohren Bilal." Their smiles. "Taraia Igna."

The Agent feels a relief with each name, filled with pride from a successful mission.

"Did you hear that?"

"Affirmative". A voice is heard over an intercom. "Sending the teams to their residential area."

"Copy that." The Agent then turns off his communicator and rest it over the table. "You scared me there Bryan. Though I had to hurt you."

Bryan chest burns and he wants to puke so much his skin turns white.

"Now that we are alone, I have to say."

"You’re a monster!"

The Agent control his reflex. A subordination like that is a call for a beating, but Bryan has nothing left to give to the Agent.

"If I’m a monster, then what will their families say about you?"

He leaves Bryan with the though and walks to the darkness of the flat, fixing the lightbulb, flickering before illuminating the small apartment.

"You have an unscrew lightbulb. I’m glad we spotted before it could catch fire. I am going to have to fine you for poor maintenance."

He scribbles a number on a small piece of paper and leaves it in the table, taking the intercom with him. Bryan does not even look at the small paper. Instead he records the smiles and faces of the people in that comfort object, hanging in the wall.

"Why?"

"Because that's the rules."

[aprillikesthings]

Rubber ducking my 60’s au

Minor spoilers ahoy

I know when Catra does LSD bc it’s a big plot point but does Adora do it and if so when

Does adora try weed before or during Monterey Pop (is it where she tries LSD)

Am I going to change the order of when people perform at Monterey Pop for story reasons or am I gonna be a hardass for accuracy

(I’m intentionally fucking with the dates of a handful of things so like. It’s not the end of the world lol.)

I *have* decided that it’s during Janis Joplin that Adora realizes Some Things aaahahahah and then after the second time Janis performs she’s like “so uh. I think I’m gay” and Glimmer is just like “oh thank god I was dying wondering when you’d figure it out for fucks sake”

(Yes this IS inspired by when I came out to my high school best friend thanks for asking)

I have an entire chapter written multiple chapters ahead of what’s posted but last night I realized the whole thing is in THE WRONG TENSE bc once I’ve caught up to that opening scene in ch1 it switches to present tense! OOPSIE

Do they have their first kiss at a concert or back at home after (I’m leaning towards at the concert) and who is performing when they kiss

Because my first thought was Janis bc sapphic (she was pretty open about being with both men and women) but tbh most of her songs don’t really work for a first kiss lol

(Like, Ball and Chain is an amazing song! But it feels so wrong to have them kiss while Janis wails about how “your love is like a ball and chain,” and sure “I need a man to love me” does express Yearning v well but. No. And Combination of the Two is fun but not even a love song, it’s literally “hey come to SF and go to some live music and it’ll be fun :)”)

Tbh I really want it to happen during Today by Jefferson Airplane which has a great vibe for that kinda thing and it’s an actual love song BUT the lyrics are only okay lol

[lifeafterthelayoff]

Part II, Day 53

On a day off, I’m nothing if not predictable.

Today was a self-care day. I do what I often do—I went to the record store. (Three, actually)

It’s fun just to go just to look around, to see what’s there. Maybe run into some friends, maybe find something in the clearance bin. It’s a good way to relieve stress and it gets me out of the house for a minute.

It’s day 53 and things are going well, but still no offers. Concerning, but not catastrophic. I carry my stress in my jaw and tense abs, and I know when I need to switch gears. Two Excedrin, a cup of black tea, and off I go.

Going to the record store and flipping through those LPs in the bins activates a different part of my brain. My fingers walk through them quickly—two or three every second. I scan the covers as they pass by, sometimes registering a title of interest a few seconds later, so I go back a few to check it out. You can get through several hundred records pretty quickly; it’s practically subconscious by now.

If something catches my eye, I pull out the record to see if it’s in good shape. If I see a scratch, I might take out my little pocket magnifier with the light to inspect the grooves closely. (Yes, I am THAT GUY.)

It’s hypnotic, it contracts time, and it takes my mind off of things.

I know that I’m chasing a dopamine high of finding a three dollar record I can't possibly live without. As far as coping mechanisms go, it’s fairly benign. I’m not solving a problem directly by visiting a record shop, but I am taking care of myself.

You see me talk about records quite a bit throughout these posts. Many of the accompanying images are clever word connections based on album titles. So you've probably figured out that music is a big part of my life. It’s what fills the spaces in my existence, figuratively and literally.

It’s getting late, as I always seem to write these when I should be heading to bed. Instead, I’ll probably go put a record on. Maybe one that I got today, even.

[readnburied]

Book Review: A Lullaby for Witches by Hester Fox

Date of Publishing: February 1st, 2022

Author: Hester Fox

Publisher: Graydon House

Genre: Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Gothic

This is a standalone novel and follows the life of Augusta Podos and Margaret Harlowe who happen to be two different women from two different times but with a single connection between them. And when Augusta finds her dream job, that connection manifests into her reality as Margaret tries to take control of her life, not just because of the connection between them but for some ulterior and sinister motive. And Augusta needs to figure out whether to help the poor soul or save herself. But considering the connection between them, she’s not sure she can do either. 

I had forgotten I have this book until I was browsing my bookshelves and came across it. I love books depicting witches and witchcraft so this immediately intrigued me. But after reading the synopsis which told me it’s a gothic story, I knew I have to give this book a read and I did not regret it. I’m obsessed with gothic stories and it’s hard to find them sometimes.

There are two timelines running simultaneously throughout the narrative and I’m not sure which one I preferred more since both of them are so equally interesting. I loved Margaret’s life and what she’d been through was heartbreaking. I sympathized with her until I realized what she intended to do. And I don’t know if any of you have read the story, but the author does such a good job of making you empathize with Margaret that you don’t know what her true nature is until towards the end and I have to say the author might be good at writing mystery thrillers if they’re into writing them. 

Margaret’s motives seemed fine to me initially but as the story progressed and the truth came out, I have to say I was furious with her and I didn’t want her to do what she eventually did. But I’m glad justice was served in the end but yes, for a moment the whole story did get incredibly tense. 

The characters are very well fleshed out and it was as if you’d be able to find them walking around in the real world. You just can’t help but feel empathy for literally every character, and that includes the negative characters, and yes there are a couple. 

I enjoyed every bit of this story, especially the horror, gothic bits where I really wished to switch places with Augusta and live her life. I love art and its history but I’m not that into it. However, after reading this story, I actually wanted to know what it’d be like working in a museum or an old estate like Augusta. I love gothic places so working in one or living in one would be a dream come true. 

Initially the premise of the story didn’t seem that new to me. I could feel as if I’ve read something similar to this before but after half of the story, I understood how unique and beautiful it was. I thought it would have a cliche ending but it didn’t and that’s where it surprised me and I’m glad it did because this book wouldn’t be getting its own review if it hadn’t. 

The tone and setting of the story was impeccable and so intriguing. I loved the gothic tones and I definitely wish I could write a gothic story as well as the author. And the spooky stuff that happens in the story definitely added to the intrigue, not to mention the witchcraft that’s one of the main premise of the story. It’s like the author took all my favorite things and put them together in a neat and interesting story and I’m definitely looking forward to reading all their books. 

The side characters were strangely interesting. I’m saying strangely because sometimes authors don’t care about making the side characters as interesting but in this book that wasn’t the case and that just shows how detail-oriented the writer is that they think of everything. 

The author has written quite a few books and a new one is set to come out this year and let me tell you all, I’ll definitely be reading all the books and giving you my opinion on them. And I urge you all to go and buy this books or if possible, all the books written by this author because it’s crucial that you read this book and experience the story the author is trying to tell. The characters seem incredibly real and some of the situations the author created actually take place in real life despite this story falling in the category of fantasy. So do give this story a chance and I’m sure you’re not going to regret it.