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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

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purgatory-if · 6 months

Text

demo (tba) | faq | masterpost (you are here.) | art cred @aykaypee

You’re in danger, and every fiber of you knows it.

You’re sure, by now, that no matter what you do you won’t be able to stop it. Maybe that’s a good thing.

...This is the end.

You wish you had something that would remember you.

... YOUR life is a mystery to you when you wake up in the sunny fields of Purgatory. Apparently death isn't supposed to be a full memory wipe to the soul, but that's no problem, right? There's usually some sort of record kept of this kind of thing. If not for special cases like yours, then at the very least for organizational purposes. You're told all of that, assured that nothing is wrong and that this jsut 'happens' sometimes up until the moment they look for yur death and find nothing to speak of. Nothing of your life, either, just to make a bad time even worse.

Without knowing anything like this, it's safe to say that it'll be impossible to pass on. The underworld isn't built for fringe cases like you and even if it was, not even knowing who you were is disconcerting at best and cause for crisis at worst.

So alright. It shouldn't be too hard to find out how one person died, right? Detectives and story characters do it all the time- and now you have all the time in the world.

You should, anyways.

... FEATURES include:

play as a seriously unlucky pc whose cause of death depends on which route you decide to pursue

be whoever you want to be! standard for ifs nowadays; things such as pronouns, general appearance, personality all that jazz

8 romance options (mostly fem/non-binary, 1 option you can choose the gender of) and the ability to play as aro and/or ace

at least 4 poly romance routes!

love me some good vanity stats! vanity stats

get recruited (read: forced) into a 9-5 where time isn't real

beat up time

really symbolic mythology! i could write a goddamn essay on these fuckers

... PURGATORY is recommended for players over the age of 15, though I’m not going to police what you do on the internet. The game will contain major character death and death of all kinds, what is probably sacrilege, memory loss, fantasy violence, potentially sexually suggestive scenes and dialogue (hi ama.), morally dubious behaviour, and more. In-depth content warnings for each chapter and specific routes will be released at a later date.

... 'MAIN' CHARACTERS

THE DIVINE.

Angel (prns selectable) / Witty, charismatic, more than a little bloodthirsty, there's a certain volatility about someone who is Fate embodied. While they take their time on the many, many field missions necessary for stability in the multiverse or whatever very seriously, they'll put their restless passion into anything if it catches their eye for long enough.

Achlys (they/them) / Death itself, stoic and sharp and more than a little intimidating, it's hard not to let their mere presence get under your skin. While it would be nice to say that's not an intentional effect, the only unintentional thing about them is the fact that they're down here, of all places. They seem to be making the best of it.

Esme (they/them) / An angel in what is certainly an analogy for hell, classic, isn't it? They're little more than a shambling mess in a skirt if we're being honest, oh so scared of any shadow that moves in the corner of their vision. They truly do wear their heart on their sleeve, which seems to be an invitation for some to try and stop its frantic beat.

Amaterasu (she/they) / Don't let her meet your parents, is the only advice I'd give, because she'd be gunning for at least a threesome by the time starters are served. Unflinchingly forward and seductive, they're horribly charming in the most impermanant of ways. There's nothing she'll shy away from trying sooner or later, it seems, in or out of the bedroom.

THE MORTALS.

Viviana Alatorre (she/her) / Businesslike. Some people really don't change when they die, and going to this office just means you see the sun less on your coimmute. She doesn't appear to be dead, or alive, something in the middle. Out of everyone here, she's probably the most terrifying. Even more than the death god, probably because she's actively working towards terror.

Ailbhe Kahinu (she/it) / There's nothing that troubles Ailbhe, and it wouldn't be concerning if she was... y'know, dead. In the face of certain terror, it faces things with a shrug and a sigh. At least she's good-natured about this whole thing, being dragged down here by both her girlfriend (Vivi) and her sister (Rahley). The prices here are better than aboveground, anyways.

Rahley Kahinu (she/her) / Rahley's been compared to a robot more than one time, and while the comparison probably wasn't in good faith that doesn't mean it was necessarily wrong. She's intensely focused on her work, and her skill in that department seems to have drained her ability in things like basic conversation and empathy. So it goes.

M Blankenship (prns selectable) / Previously called 'Hit 'N Run' in the world of roller derby, the violent nickname seems odd on someone as cheerful as M. They act as a sort of tour guide for souls entering the Underworld proper instead of hanging around Purgatory, and it's hard to say their easy extroversion makes them anything worse than great at their job.

THE CONSTANTS.

Stratos C. Lusse (he/him) / The eternal guide to Purgatory for souls lost, souls found and all who are inbetween. He seems to have been here the longest--minus all of the deities, of course.

Octavia Hardin (she/her) / The part-time guide to Purgatory. She seems more likely to throw your soul into damnation if you cross her or anybody she cares about. Stay on her good side!

Salem Astor (she/her) / She would be a romance option if I had the energy to code in a shop feature. But I don't. So she runs free through the city.

Abbadon (prns selectable) / Personification of the past. If anyone can help you figure out what the hell happened to you, then they should be the one to go to. Sometime in the next 5 centuries would be ideal.

Maliel (prns selectable) / Personification of the future. Again, probably someone who can find out in a second what you'll know when you figure out this mystery, if you're able to find them at a good time. The woes of being a primordial deity.

...and more! Probably. Co-workers, pirates, other deities but this is running long.

#if: intro #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #choice of games #interactive game #twine game #twine if #interactive novel #twine wip #purgatory if #masterpost

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fandoms-writings · 8 months

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How about Vampire!Bucky with “Keep your pretty eyes on me.” and “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”?

But like, the classic vampires of Anne Rice, not the sparkly bastards from twilight? Perhaps soft!dark too?

Love Bites

Pairing: Dark!Vampire!Bucky x Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.4K (i just can't not write long fics)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, HEAVY DUBCON , smut, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), blood, vampire feeding, it's kinda dark tbh, use of mind control (if i miss any please let me know so i can add it <;3)

A/N: I hope you enjoy love! this was tons of fun to write <3 thank you big time to @aquariusbarnes for beta reading for me! all mistakes are my own though.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sniffled as you walked, watching the stone of the old road pass under your feet. You wished you could appreciate the history of the place, really take it in like you wanted to. You wished you could enjoy this trip like you intended to. You worked so hard to get the time off, to pay for it. It was your anniversary trip, you were supposed to be having fun.

This was anything but. You'd gone to the bar with John, your piece of shit husband, and he'd excused himself to the bathroom, but when you noticed he'd been gone awhile, you went looking for him. Just to find the bathroom door locked, moans flowing out from the crack at the bottom. The bar had a strict 'no sex in the bathroom' rule, so the bouncer kicked in the door, and there was John, balls deep in a girl you recognized from the booth next to the one you'd been waiting at.

You'd removed your ring, threw it on the ground, and stormed out, which was a shame. You loved that ring, the ruby was just gorgeous in it. But John hadn't even chased after you, it was like he was a different person.

You thought about the way he looked at you when the bouncer kicked in the door. His pupils were blown wide and it was like he wasn't even there anymore. You did take notice of the white dust around the edge of his nose though, so maybe he wasn't there. But that's no excuse, especially because you'd never even seen him do drugs.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," said a voice from behind you. It was low and soft, smooth like honey. You turned around, wiping the tears from your face before looking at your observer. "It's dangerous at night."

You gave him a tight lipped smile, "Thanks for the warning." He stepped out from the shadow, and you couldn't help the nerves that lit on fire in your belly. He was tall, built but not too muscular, his hair was cropped short, almost like a military cut. His sharp jaw was clean shaven, and he had gentle blue eyes.

"You alright?" He asked, gesturing to your disheveled state. You sighed, pursing your lips for a moment debating on if you should really tell a stranger your life, but you'd probably never see him again, so what's the harm?

"I'm supposed to be here on my anniversary trip," You muttered, "but I found him cheating not even two days into our trip, so. . ." You crossed your arms, shrinking in on yourself as he approached you.

"Well, he sounds like an idiot," He said, stopping in front of you, "He'd have to be a moron to be able to even take his eyes off of you." He held his hand out, "I'm Bucky."

You introduced yourself, placing your hand in his and let out a small gasp when he raised your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, even if it was something terrible that brought you out this way." He smiled, releasing your hand. "Can I walk with you? Just make sure you get to wherever you're going safely, if nothing else."

You hesitated. This was a stranger, in an unfamiliar city, asking to walk with you to where you were staying. It sounded like a terrible disaster just waiting to happen. You shouldn't let him come with you to the hotel.

Before you could process what was happening, you heard your voice agree, telling him he could join you, but you didn't remember giving your mouth permission to say those things.

He fell into step beside you, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets, only bumping your elbow with his if he was trying to show you something. He told you about the city as you walked, distracting you from the events of earlier. He stopped at an old ice cream place, buying you a small cup of your favorite flavor, and taking you to a small park bench where he sat with you while you ate.

"Thank you," You said when you finished your cup. He took it and threw it away before coming back and sitting next to you. "You really don't have to stick with me all night. I'm sure you have places to be."

"This is the only place I want to be right now," He looked over at you with a small smile.

"With a stranger?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself. The ice cream was good, but that mixed with the small night breeze, you can't stop the chills running up your spine. Bucky took notice and stood, pulling his sweater off and offering it to you as he sat back down.

"I'd say you're just a little more than a stranger now," He chuckled.

"I guess you're right," You smiled.

"Are you planning on going back to your hotel?" He asked, "Would your husband be there?"

Fuck, he's right. Your smile falls as you think about it. Where else would John go except back to the hotel? You didn't want to stay there if he was going to be there. He had a key so he could be there already, and you weren't ready for that. You didn't want to face him right now.

You hang your head with a sigh, the tears beginning to well in your eyes again. "I don't know. I don't want to see him, but I have nowhere else to go. And neither does he, so he would definitely be there." You wiped at your face with your hands and let out a groan.

Bucky didn't respond immediately, but when you looked over at him to apologize for all the drama going on in your life, he looked like he was debating on telling you something.

"What is it?" You prompted, watching as he sighed.

"I know you just met me," he started, "and by no means do you have to accept, but I have a spare room that you are more than welcome to stay in. At least for the night, and then in the morning you can sort your hotel stuff out and go stay wherever you want."

You went to decline, this wasn't something you would accept from a stranger for multiple reasons. You didn't know him that well, you didn't want to impose, and he could be dangerous. But it was like when he asked to walk with you earlier - it felt like your body had a mind of its own as you heard yourself agreeing to stay with him, and before you knew it, you were following him to a lavish apartment building in the middle of the city.

"You live here?" You asked as you eyed the building in wonder, the towering skyrise seemingly reaching into the heavens.

"I do," He smirked down at you as he held the door open for you, leading the way to the elevator. You watched as he pressed the very top floor button.

"Top floor, huh?"

"Best view of the city, you'll see," He smiled down at you before looking forward again. You eyed him a bit - you could've swore you saw a hint of a different color in his eyes, but you couldn't get another good look to confirm.

The elevator stopped and you pulled the sweater tighter around you, nerves beginning to set you more on edge then before as you waited for the doors to open.

The doors opened, and he was right, the view was spectacular.

The place was lined with floor to ceiling windows where you could see the expanse of almost the entire city below you. There were only a few lights on here and there, the place mostly lit up by the moon right out the windows.

His decor screamed money in a dark modern luxury type of way. The furniture was all dark wood with even darker cushions. You kept him in your peripheral as you walked around the room. If you had to guess, he was probably working for the mafia, or he was a CEO of some huge company you'd never heard of. No one his age could afford this place without being famous for something.

"You want anything to drink? Or eat?" He asked as he led the way to the kitchen, turning on lights as he went.

"Just some water would be lovely," You said, following a bit behind him. Something about this place made you uneasy, you weren't sure what it was - if it was him, or how high up you were, or the fact that for some reason you had agreed to this - but you were attempting to keep your distance just in case.

You watched as he filled your glass and slid it across the counter in front of you, adding nothing strange to your drink in the process.

That's good at least, you thought. He started talking about where the shower was, where you could find towels, and that he'd get you a spare change of clothes so you didn't have to smell like the bar anymore. You took him up on the offer, grabbing everything you needed before locking yourself in the grand guest bathroom.

~~~

"This is the guest room, and I'm down the hall," Bucky stated as you followed him through the hall. You noticed none of the bedrooms had windows and you thought it was odd, but at least the sun wouldn't wake you the second it rose.

"Thank you, for letting me stay," You said, fiddling with the edge of the shirt he gave you, your legs warmed by the fleece pants. "I really appreciate it. I owe you."

"Of course," He smiled down at you. "You don't owe me anything," he reached forward, picking a piece of lint from your shoulder, "all I want to do is help you forget about your husband."

Your brows scrunched together, "What?"

"After the night you've had, don't you think you deserve to have some fun?" He suggested, reaching to cup your cheek. His hand was oddly cold, but you did just take a hot shower so you didn't think too much about it. "Say the word, and I'll make you forget about your moron of a husband. Or I'll leave you to your room."

It was like all the air was sucked out of your lungs as you stared up at him. He wore this look of sincerity and. . . hunger? How long had it been since you'd been on the receiving end of that stare? John hadn't really cared the past few months, you'd hoped this trip would spark something in him again. He'd run off with some woman from the bar, not even 50 feet from you, so what harm would sleeping with Bucky do?

He'd been nothing but nice to you, catering really. He'd taken care of you, though you did have those two moments where your body betrayed you in favor of his wishes. But, maybe that was your body telling you something. If anything, you'd just slip out in the morning the second the sun came up.

Reaching up to grab his hand, you nodded, "Make me forget about him." You whispered it, but the second it left your lips, his eyes darkened, darker than you've ever seen anyone's eyes go.

He nodded, moving to lace your fingers with his as he led you down the hall to the master bedroom. It was just as lavish as the rest of the apartment, maybe even more so. The bed was massive, lined with a deep rich red comforter and sheets that looked as soft as clouds. He pulled you to the edge of it before cupping your cheeks, pulling you in till you were just a breath away.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking to you for confirmation before he moved.

"Yes," You muttered, gasping when his lips met yours. It was slow at first, the way his lips moved with yours, like he was learning how you kissed, how you liked to be kissed, before he deepened it. His tongue slipped past your lips, taking a quick taste at your mouth before retreating, like he was asking for permission - permission which you granted.

He tasted the entirety of your mouth as he hands moved under the shirt to paw at your skin, gripping and pulling you flush against him as he groaned into your mouth. He guided you towards the bed, pulling away to let you lay across the comforter, which was as soft as you imagined.

Laying himself above you, he slotted his knee between your legs, pushing his thigh into your warm core, smirking at the small whine you let out as your hips grinded down on his thigh. "Eager are you?" He mumbled against your lips, "Did your lousy husband never satisfy you?"

"He used to, but not lately," it ignited a bit of shame, admitting how unfulfilled you were in your marriage, but all Bucky did was smile as his hands moved to the waistband of your pants.

"I'll fix that," he pulled your pants gently down your legs, admiring your skin as he went. "Don't you worry." He winked at you before grabbing one of your legs and starting a trail of wet kisses up from your ankle. Suddenly, it was like all of your nerves fizzled out. You were almost completely comfortable laying there, like you belonged.

He ran his nose up your calf and your thigh, stopping at your hip to place another wet kiss, sucking a bit on your skin and sending shivers of excitement up your spine. Pushing the shirt up over your chest, he followed it with his lips and his tongue, inhaling your skin, savoring it as long as he could. You'd never had someone be so attentive, so infatuated with you that they took their time like this. He helped you out of the shirt before settling between your thighs.

"I've barely even started and you're already dripping," He slowly said, his voice starting the butterflies in your stomach. He leaned down, placing a gentle peck to your clit, smirking when your hips jolted, trying to get more pressure. "You are eager."

"Please," You whispered, watching with half lidded eyes, "please, Bucky."

"Mm," he hummed, reaching up to grab your breast, gently tugging on your hardened nipple, "only because you asked so sweetly."

He flattened his tongue along your folds before dragging it up and circling his lips around your clit, groaning into you when you let out a wanton moan. Your hands dove down, trying to grip his short cropped hair, tugging him closer with what you could grab, settling for just gripping his head.

He ate you like he'd done this a thousand times before. He knew exactly when to speed up, and when to slow to keep you teetering on the edge, the band that quickly grew in your stomach just ready to snap.

He pulled his tongue off of you, cooing at you when you whined at the loss, trying to pull him back. He pulled his hand from your breast, using his thumb to circle your clit, pushing on it every so slightly.

"Now," He started, his voice raspy as he sunk a finger into your cunt, "I need just one thing from you, before I give you what you want - what you need."

You looked down at him, swallowing the sudden nerves in your throat as you nodded.

He smirked, his eyes going red, "I need you to stay still, and keep your pretty eyes on me."

Your body froze and your eyes went wide. His suddenly red eyes sent a spark of fear through you, but your body wouldn't move out from under him, no matter how much you tried. It was just like before, where your body followed his exact commands.

"Good girl," He growled as he curled his finger, brushing at that spongy spot, "I'll only take a little, I promise." His mouth opened in a hungry pant and you watched as his canines lengthened themselves into points.

You wanted to run, to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but your body wouldn't move. He pulled at the skin of your thigh before gently sinking his fangs into you, the sharp pain only lasting a second before it went numb. You could feel him lapping at your skin, the blood flowing into his mouth.

He looked up at you for a split second before his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned, the vibration running through your muscles. You shouldn't be turned on by this, you know you shouldn't, but the way he looked at you after, like you hung the sky itself, it was intoxicating.

He pulled away gently, licking up the bit that escaped his lips before turning his attention back to you. "You taste even better than you smell." He wiped at the corner of his mouth with his free hand, licking the blood off of it before climbing up your body, curling his fingers again.

"Now," He said, pulling his finger free from your pussy's grip on it, and pulling his cock free from his trousers, "Your turn."

He lined himself up with your entrance after coating himself in your slick, and pushed in slowly to the hilt, filling you in a way you never knew before. He groaned once he was seated all the way in and he reached to grab your legs, holding them as he slowly started to rock into you.

"I've been watching you since you got here," He stated, relishing in the tears that were starting in your eyes, "Your dumbass of a husband following you like a bored teenage boy. You deserve better. Then," He slammed his hips into yours, closing his eyes at the feeling of being so deep in you, "then I got a whiff of you, of your blood when you got that paper cut opening the welcoming card from your hotel. I knew I had to have you."

He dropped one of your legs, placing his hand over your stomach, pushing down on the bulge he was creating with every thrust, the band in your stomach starting to grow tight again. "It was easy, getting him to listen to me. I found him in the bathroom, told him to fuck the girl who was gonna join him, and sent her in there." He smiled deviously down at you, an eerie hint of obsession tinting his eyes.

"Then it was just a matter of waiting till you were far enough away from him that I could approach you," He leaned down till his nose was brushing against yours, "And fuck you're perfect. Make some noise for me, will you baby?"

A loud moan tore itself from your throat and you couldn't stop the series of curses that left your lips as he sped up his hips, slamming into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over and over, quickly bringing you over the edge. But he stopped before you could topple over, and he gripped your cheeks, making you look at him again.

"You'll forget about him," he ordered, "you belong to me, now."

You couldn't remember who he was talking about, or what had happened. All you knew was that you were his, and he was yours. And he was fucking you so good.

"That's it," He smiled when he noticed that familiar look in your eyes. His hand left your face, and his thumb circled your clit as he pounded into you again, tossing you quickly over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your walls gripping him as he kept pumping in and out of you, quickly pushing you towards another one.

The second one took you just a fast, your blood roaring in your ears. The smell of your blood rushing through your veins pushed him to his climax and you watched his hips stutter before painting your walls with his spend.

"That's my girl," He panted. Once you caught your breath, he smiled down at you, "I have something for you."

You smiled, "For me?"

He reached for his pants without pulling out of you, and his hand dove into the pocket, pulling out a gorgeous ring. It had a silver band, with a ruby surrounded by small square cut diamonds.

"Bucky," You gasped, "That's gorgeous, but why?"

"My girl deserves pretty things, don't you think?" He slid it over your finger, smirking as it fit perfectly. "Look, it's like it was made for you."

You smiled bright up at him with a laugh. "It's perfect," you muttered before reaching up to pull him down to you, slotting your lips over his, "Thank you."

"Anything for my girl."

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <;3 @remis-library

#vampire!bucky x human!reader #vampire!bucky #vamp!bucky #vampire!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky smut #bucky angst #dubcon #heavy dubcon #remisneonparty

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magicalrocketships · 15 days

Note

Hello! I hope you are most well. I just got to share your baby Daniel in the going -Small verse with a friend, special place in my heart for him. Then I thought about it for two long and my thoughts wandered off rabbit-hole style. Do you have any thoughts on how adult Max might react if he'd met baby Daniel after his embarassment about going small and living with Daniel for three months? Baby Daniel doesn't know that! He just wants to love on Max.

Sending love, hugs, and cheesy garlic bread <3

Oh I HAVE thought about this a lot. Unfortunately my eyes are pretty blurry today (love you chronic illness, kiss kiss) so let's have some brief thoughts at 175% zoom and I'll come back to it another time

Max IS going to meet baby Daniel again. He's also going to meet baby Daniel when he's baby Max as well (and Daniel's mum and dad look after them).

Max when he Goes Small doesn't have his competitiveness; he doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to race, he doesn't want to come first. And a Max who isn't competitive and therefore also doesn't have to push through fear and never show it gets to… explore things differently this time around. And it's not just Max that learns that, it's Daniel too, looking after him. But it's Max who's ashamed of this little baby Max and doesn't want to be connected to him, wants to run away from him when he's big again.

When Daniel Goes Small he doesn't feel fear, really (except if there's a dog, and he hides behind Max) - or rather; he does feel fear but he often doesn't know he should be scared. He wants to climb on the balcony wall to look over the side and see how far down it is (he's not huge on heights when he sees). He wants to ride his bike really fast and jump in the pool and make a big splash and he's not cold (he's really cold) and go in the fast car and can Max go faster please (holds on very tight to the seat but says wow extremely reverentially afterwards). He'll climb on things he shouldn't climb on, and open things he shouldn't open, and trusts everybody, and hates bedtime so Max has to carry a passed out Daniel to bed every night because he does not know how to get him to go to bed, and Max spends three days looking after him and at the end of it he's exhausted.

But Max doesn't once think that Daniel should be embarrassed about baby Daniel when he Goes Big again. Not even when Daniel skids off his bike on the second day and takes all the skin off his knees and his elbow, and he cries loud and hard because there's blood and it's run down his knee and hit his sock, and Max ends up using half of some other mum's first aid kit to wipe the dirt out of Daniel's grazes and get antiseptic on them and plasters. Daniel gets to have chicken nuggets afterwards as a treat, and there's a little bit of Max that knows, when he was a kid, crying wasn't something he could do to get a hug and some chicken nuggets. And Daniel had instinctively cried out Max's name, but Max had already been running across the bike track to make sure he was okay.

When Daniel Goes Big, he says thanks for looking after me, like he and little Daniel are the same person, like he's okay being a curly haired kid with poor judgment. Max says, "You will have to keep looking after your knees, the grazes are quite bad." Daniel looks down at the Pokemon plasters peeking out from underneath his shorts and shrugs. When I was a kid I was always doing shit like that. Thanks, Max.

Afterwards, Max misses the noise. He misses the constant questions, the what's in there, how fast do lions go, why can't I, and the way he'd fall asleep passed out in Max's lap, still protesting he wasn't tired, protesting he can eat what he wants, asking how fast he was when he ran around Max's flat twelve times to get rid of some energy.

Max doesn't think: you should be ashamed.

He thinks: I wish I wasn't.

(All actual parts can be found either in this masterpost or on AO3 here.)

#de-aged maxiel #baby max #it's you and me #just a few thoughts tonight #my fic #except it's not really fic

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papirouge · 9 months

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as someone who almost died as a minor giving birth after being raped I think u should care about the lives already here and not a clump of cells. most children conceived thru rape are abandoned or killed later on anyhow

Why are you guys acting like we had to pick a sidd between saving the life of women OR the baby?? What some sort of twisted oppression Olympics is that?? Why couldn't we fight for BOTH? This is precisely what prolifers are for.

First of all, we do care about saving pregnant women's life considering the fact that death in childbirth is ≤0.05% in developed countries.... It shows that a decent healthcare system is KEY in saving women's life during delivery - and that abortion isn't needed. COPE.

The fearmongering around pregnancy kills is inversely proportionate to how it actually does IRL.

Unlike what pro abortionist liars say, no prolifer advocate for less medical help for women. And no, we aren't all Conservatives (I'm personally not) religious (secular/LGTB+ prolife organization are a thing) or males (most prolifers are female) so enough with the tHey hAte wOmeN shtick. We don't revel in women dying in childbirth struggling to get access to pregnancy care. Many of us are mom/have family and know how hard pregnancy & educating children is. You need to stop acting like only pro choicers knew what is was like to carry a baby and deliver it. That's precisely bc we know how hard pregnancy is that we consider women deserve better than a bandaid called abortion.

Abortion is the reason why pregnancy care is sooo behind in extra liberal spaces. By shoving abortion as the only solution for women hEaLthCaRe (because it's cheaper than an actual maternity leave + welfare) they never really bothered creating a decent alternative to help women who'd decide to keep their baby. How can abortion be a ✨choice✨ when the only alternative is sinking into helplessness & poverty? Damn, you guys totally understand it when it comes to prostitution but NEVER have the intellectual honesty to ponder that question when it comes to abortion 🤔

It baffles my mind how pro abortion applauded companies offering abortions instead of a decent maternity leave. You guys are the biggest useful idiots of capitalism while thinking you are soooo subversive 🙄 That's why you are making up false opposition in the form of the big bad traditional backwardish boogeyman to make you sound braver than you are lol There's no traditionalist conspiracy... Most of the planet never stopped valuing family over career or iNdepeNdencE (although there's a definite push for cultural liberalism - of which abortion culture is totally part of) It's just the pendulum naturally coming back after a decade of libfem koolaid.

You're doing exactly what the system wants from you. You're the equivalent of 'eyeliner so sharp it would slays patriarchy' kinda shit. Especially radfem who will scream that women aren't body part (and they're right) yet advocate for the very act of treating our body like such (against our biology most basic function such as fertility/procreation) - if not straight up vilifying its work ("a baby is a parasite"). Would it even occur to you that fetus aren't "body parts" to be disposed of?? You uterus is a "clump of cells" too, you might as well throw it to the trash 🤪

Oh and many of these "poor pregnant woman got arrested for abortion" have been debunked. You guys really need to get over these misleading sensational headlines seeking to demonize pro lifers (weird, I thought there was a back to traditionalism conspiracy 🤔 shouldn't mainstream media be on our side? 🤔). Those poor women either took drugs to kill their fetus or even killed them AFTER their birth (I'm sure there's a masterpost floating around debunking these stories).

Abortion doesn't even stop rape. If anything, if facilitates its erasure (planned Parenthood allying with pimps to perform underage abortion under the radar) You guys are just moving the goal to appeal to emotionalism. Even if rape disappeared overnight you'd stil advocate for abortion so please, shut up about it. You are exhausting.

#answered #pro life

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Skinny-Dip

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: A chance encounter in a rooftop pool after midnight

Warnings: Nudity, flirting. banter. Nothing explicit.

Word Count: 1.0 k (250 words drabbles I am too funny)

Authors Note: Eleventh in my 2k Follower Celebration drabbles. This is a request fill for @musicismyoxygen84 with the prompt “I forgot my towel” (ask here). Sorry lovely, I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you don't mind it. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“We have to!” you point excitedly at the rooftop pool.

“You’re on your own…”

“C'mon, it will be funnnnn,” you insist. “I'm not suggesting skinnydipping; just dip our toes in!”

“Nooo. Bed for me. Too tipsy, Enjoyyyyy,” she slurs and pats your cheek.

And thus, you find yourself, without your best friend, making your way outside to the rooftop pool at 1 am.

When you get there, there’s a lovely gentle breeze and the lights of the city twinkle all around. It’s quite magical in some ways. Or maybe that's the wine talking.

You are humming to yourself, removing your shoes and sitting at the pool edge, when you belatedly realise you are not alone. Someone is already in the pool at the far end. It's a man, only his head above the water, and he appears to be looking over at you slightly sheepishly as if you have interrupted something that he shouldn't be doing. Now that you are paying attention, you can see he is rather handsome.

“Miss, please could you do me a favour?” his smooth, refined, posh really, voice rings out.

Your brow knits. “What?”

“I don't suppose you could pass me one of those, could you?” he requests politely, nodding to the rack on the wall behind you. “I forgot my towel.”

“Why can't you get one yourself?” you retort with alcohol-induced bluntness after a brief look behind.

“I wasn't expecting anyone else to come out here…” he begins, and there appears to be an adorable tint high on his cheekbones.

“So?” you shrug.

“Well, I had thought a skinny dip would be refreshing…” he confesses awkwardly.

And the penny drops.

“Ohhhh….”

You can't help it; your gaze drops. But even with the pool lit underwater, you can't make anything out at this distance. Sadly. If only there weren't so much chop in the water, you might have a better ch…

“Don't you believe me or something?” he questions with a teasing lilt, and you guiltily snap your eyes back to his face and see the smug crooked smile there. He knows exactly what you were doing.

“Sorry, I… look, it's a natural reaction…” you throw your hands up, your tipsy brain not bothering to attempt a lie. “I’d do the same if you told me there was a plane in the sky. I’m going to look. It’s who I am.”

“There is a plane in the sky,” he fires back deadpan, and you look up on instinct.

Sure enough, there are indeed some telltale blinking lights.

“Well, at least you were being honest.” he chuckles.

You stick your tongue out, and that makes him laugh harder.

“So… towel? Please?” he looks hopeful.

You lean back casually on your hands, knowing it pushes out your breasts, and cock your head to the side. This could be fun.

“That seems like a you problem,” you shoot back with a raised eyebrow. You want to see where this could go. If nothing else, it's a fun flirtation.

He gapes at you momentarily, and then he smirks.

“If I have to get out naked to get one for myself, it will surely become a you problem?” he opines, swimming towards you.

“I’m willing to run that risk,” you answer back, and there's a little frisson through your body as he draws closer, and you can see just how attractive he is. Oh shit, that is one handsome face.

“Well, I suppose I should introduce myself as you insist on seeing me in the altogether,” he states drily as he draws up right in front of where your feet dangle into the water. “I’m Benedict,” he offers as he stands up to full height in the water.

And for a split second, you just stare. Watching rivulets of water run from broad shoulders onto a smooth, toned chest smattered with freckles down to a tapered waist. Oh shit, that is an excellent body too.

“Y/n…” you respond, distracted, your tongue feeling heavier in your mouth.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” The tone is warm, pitched lower and something in your gut flutters.

“Likewise,” you respond, feeling a tug of a smile at the corner of your lips. “And for the record, I am not insisting on anything. You could stay in this pool until I am done dipping my toes, and then there is no need to show me anything,” you point out with a wry tone.

“And how long might that be?” he inquires, bemused, crossing his arms in a way that seems to intentionally enhance the muscle in his arms. Bastard.

“Ah, that's one of life’s great mysteries, isn't it?” you shoot back, feeling a glow spreading behind your ribs that this could be something. It's been a while since you flirted so easily with anyone, especially anyone this handsome.

“There is another answer to the dilemma here,” he offers, dipping back into the water and pulling up to your left side.

“I’m listening….” you gaze down at him, captured by his soft hazy eyes.

“If you were skinny dipping too, then we would be equally embarrassed,” he offers nonchalantly with a lazy smile, kicking his body out backwards, intentionally, so you can see that he is indeed very naked. And his bottom and legs are very shapely too. You are left in no doubt now, and the spike of endorphins through your bloodstream is exhilarating.

“Now there is an idea…” you flirt back and, throwing caution to the wind, push off your hands and slip into the pool. The cool water is a balm to your heated body, flush with excitement and possibility.

“You're still dressed,” he twists towards you and pouts, eyes sparkling, that killer lopsided grin returning.

“Am I…?” you volley back and raise an eyebrow as you peel off your top and throw it onto the poolside.

The look he shoots you is blistering, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, you are about to tick ‘sex in a pool’ off of your bucket list.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #2k follower celebration

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eluxcastar · 1 year

Note

*Nudges you* May we have Papa Pierro doing Papa Pierro things part three? 🥺

Even more Papa Pierro doing even more Papa Pierro things

── ୨୧：pierro & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: baby is a little older now (and still sufficiently causing trouble) but tbh Pierro loves that gremlin

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, possible mild child endangerment (it's natural)

୨୧﹑words :: 912

listen there's only so much I can do for child reader before I age them up and we're on part FOUR of Pierro papaing I have got to age baby up and I'm sorry but it must be done. not too much they're still not an adult but they're not quite so baby anymore think like thirteen or fourteen now

when I said I would post Tuesday this isn't the Tuesday I meant, but, well, there's a reason I chose family fluff. I'm also probably gonna make a masterpost for these cause I can't be bothered to link these all in every post, I'll update the link as soon as I make it

all papa pierro posts

A little older and a lot more independent, you tend to spend a little less time around your beloved Papa, now having several responsibilities of your own and an ever-busy Father doing his best to provide for you but having dedicated so much time to keeping you safe in your early childhood you have to cut him a little slack. That's not to say he doesn't keep you safe now; he regularly finds himself making mental checklists for you before you go out, all of which are some of the most outlandish things you've heard possibly going wrong.

Some things make sense, like remembering to wear your coat when you go out, but other things not so much.

He's still using his old scare tactics too, but thankfully you definitely don't doubt that Dottore would be more than glad to amputate your fingers and toes for you to do precisely as you're told the second that leaves his mouth. Don't go into his lab under any circumstances is also still quite common to hear.

Now that you've got a little more sense to you, Pierro allows you to wander as you please and see who you see fit, though he doesn't necessarily enjoy the things you get your hands on as a result of doing so. Each time you stick your nose somewhere you know you shouldn't be, obviously endangering yourself, you receive a harsh scolding for your antics the second he finds out, and he always finds out.

He won't be entertaining a single one of your thoughts about 'when' you join the Fatui, insisting that you will, in fact, not be doing so, for as loyal as he may be to the Tsaritsa, he was not bound by any deal to her to give up his firstborn child to her like a horror of mythic folklore and, as a result, will not be doing so. As his only child, you can forget about joining the Fatui as it's far too dangerous, and there are plenty of ways for you to be helpful without being directly involved if you truly wish.

That's such a horrifying thought that he didn't even half-heartedly encourage it when you were younger.

Pierro will pretend not to notice that you sneak out to persuade Tartaglia - who easily turns to mush at your request - to teach you something of the many weapons he has learned, just as long as you don't get hurt in the process. Thankfully, you picked a kinder teacher, as he wouldn't want you to think you should try to learn from Capitano or Arlecchino, whose ideas of teaching are far too hands-on for you to handle.

The most he intervenes is asking Columbina, of all people, to keep an eye on you in these times, as he knows that, inevitably, you'll find your way to her in pursuit of what you really want - something which even Childe cannot teach you - the skills required of a mage. Admittedly, it's not her most substantial hand either, but in the obvious absence of your own Father as an immediate candidate, she will at least provide you with the basics. He will only teach you what he wants you to know when you come to him.

Khaenri'ah had its own unique ways of magic, all of which you should know, being descended from the place. It's important to him that even if he won't allow you to do the one thing he's tried to get you to shut up about for years now and which Pierro absolutely has the power to stop you from doing, he at least imparts the very thing you would be using in that situation just in case you manage to get around him. Knowing how much of your life you've spent doing that, he has no doubt that at some point in your adulthood, you'll double-cross him and join the Fatui anyway. Pierro is simply lying to himself that you won't.

However, teaching you magic is a way of bonding with you. No one else in your life can, so he takes up upon himself to make sure that you learn from him, as he wants you to know as much about your homeland as possible. If not for the fact it had been destroyed, you would have grown up there, but in its absence, Pierro is raising you as something of a fish out of water. Many things left to the Gods were not commonplace in Khaenri'ah, so even though you seem to need to understand their importance, he teaches you much about creating life through alchemy. However, you can't do it yourself, nor does he particularly want you to.

It's too slow for your liking, but as far as you know, your only other option is to ask Dottore, who created his segments that way, or Scaramouche, who was created that way. One of those choices doesn't know or discuss the details of his creation with nosey little kids, and the other will get you in trouble with just about everyone involved.

You just have to accept that you must be patient - probably a part of your lesson - and wait for your Father to get to the exciting things you want.

You're still very set on joining the Fatui even with the bit of leniency he allows you and his most incredible efforts will not shut you up, even if you pretend they will.

#✦ — headcanons.#✦ — fluff.#♡ — anon visit.#pierro #genshin pierro #pierro x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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redflagshipwriter · 2 months

Text

Reassembly 3

ch1 ch2

Masterpost

Peter pushed his bangs back for the billionth time. They immediately fell back in front of his eyes as he hunched over the library computer. He'd spent all day trying to get his bearings in this universe. Eventually, his stomach had gotten attention. Even with the stuff from the hotel buffet, he was so hungry it was distracting.

That had made him realize that what he needed most was money. He needed access to a steady stream of money. When he left here he could try to make the best decision possible about the little bit of cash he had, sure. But it wouldn't last long.

He had the spiteful fantasy of taking the money he needed from the LOA company that had been funding …whatever they'd done to him. An all-expenses paid kidnapping was only fair.

But it was only a thought. Whoever they were, they were dangerous. He shouldn't provoke them or give them any clues about him. Whatever experiments they'd been doing with him must have been expensive. They probably wanted him back. He needed to know more before he risked getting their attention.

Instead, Peter started up a resume. He put his real name at the top and then stared at it in indecision. He swallowed.

Was that a good idea? He… he didn't exist here, so it seemed fine. But maybe he should use a fake name?

Peter strained to think of a reason to use a fake name now that he knew he didn't exist here. How could those people possibly know his name? He definitely hadn't told them. It was probably smarter to be cautious, but it was his name. The idea of losing it made him feel like throwing up.

"If I think of a reason I shouldn't use it, I can change that." Peter muttered to himself quietly enough that no one seemed to notice. He took a few minutes to search around for high schools in the area. It was so weird that Midtown didn't exist here. He felt like a fraud as he entered the information for the school he thought would have been his school district. He double checked the year (and it was so weird that it was 5 years in the past here) and back dated his graduation 3 years. Then he grimaced and made it 5 years.

No way would anyone who saw his face believe that. But he'd need to pretend to have a university degree to get this kind of work, so it couldn't be helped.

'People lie on their resumes all the time,' Peter told himself. He still felt like crap about it. He still… he still hadn't graduated high school, and he probably never would.

It was fine. He knew enough that he was never going to stick out as less educated than a high school graduate.

'I'll get the college degree, though. If I really am here for a long time, I need an education.'

Peter deliberately picked an innocuous university to claim for his fake Bachelors in Computer Science. It took a while to find a place with a sufficiently not-prestigious program but enough graduates for him to have been lost in the crowd. He'd have to redo the resume with the real degree later.

Oh. Wait. Peter went back up and deleted his name. That was his reason to use a fake name for this work.

He was going to get a real degree in his own name. This resume was just to make some money, not to establish an identity. He watched the cursor blink for a while, trying to think of a name. It needed to be something that he could remember. Ned Leeds? It would make him too sad. Same for Tony Stark. But…

Peter slowly typed out James Barnes and huffed a laugh through his nose.

He'd recently escaped unethical scientists and found himself lost in a new world where he had no friends or family. It seemed appropriate.

"Hey," grumbled the mental Bucky Barnes that Peter's subconscious had apparently generated for some reason. "You little shit."

That was fine. Peter ignored the rising evidence of a mental breakdown and finished falsifying a resume. He used it to apply for several contract jobs in web design. He took a deep breath to counteract the urge to make a joke with someone, anyone, about how it was funny for Spiderman to get into web design.

Man. He was lonely.

There was no point in hanging around the library longer. The sun had set and it was close to closing time, 6:00 pm. He couldn't check anything out, not without an ID, and he wasn't going to get any emails back immediately.

Peter shuffled out and walked at random down the street. The sound of cars and pedestrians and crosswalks soothed his hindbrain.

He used the time to think. To plan.

He needed to refresh what he knew. The library would be a great start. He'd come early tomorrow and read some computer science books. That aside, he also needed to start working on a long term identity and getting into university.

'I'm going to want a scholarship. If I can do that, I won't have to work too much.'

The trouble with that was that Peter couldn't go to any random school. He needed to be somewhere with a significant budget for the sciences. If he was going to get home, he needed access to some serious technology.

'That's a big ask. Why would a prestigious school offer full scholarships?'

He felt defeated before he even started. But it was worth asking. That was the kind of question that the librarians wouldn't be suspicious of at all. He was actually in the right age group to look into college admissions.

'Okay. I need an ID. Birth certificate? That's the first ID anyone gets.'

Well. Time to see if the city administration buildings were where he remembered. How hard could it be to break in, print a birth certificate, and backdate and file it? He was Spiderman.

…And Spiderman really shouldn't be using his super powers for crime. What would Aunt May think? Peter grimaced and rubbed at his face with both hands.

Was it really that bad? 'I'm not stealing anything or hurting anyone,' he defended himself. 'I'm doing what I need in order to survive.'

The part that he felt worst about was lying about his education. But he had the skillset and qualifications, he just couldn't explain his internship to a genius that didn't exist here and extracurriculars at a school this universe didn't have.

'That's barely even a crime,' Peter thought. 'Breaking and entering isn't great, but I'm just fixing my own paperwork. I really was born. So it's not a fake ID.'

With that logic ironed out, Peter made his way to the vital records office. The building looked like he remembered, thankfully.

So. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and walked around the block to see the building from all sides.

It didn't exactly look super secure. It was an old brick faced building with a lonely camera angled down the stairs of the main entry. There was a metal detector visible from outside, and he knew from experience that there were maybe 3 security officers on the first floor.

'That's easy to get around if I enter from a higher floor. They'll probably have a security team in at night but they won't expect that. If they do a walk through, I'll hear them coming up the stairs or elevator.'

It seemed doable. Sort of.

'I need to know what birth certificates from my birth year looked like, I guess? And if the ones from today look the same. Or maybe I don't need to worry about it, as long as I enter my information digitally. I doubt they keep a paper copy for every birth. The building isn't even big enough. And you can get a copy printed whenever you need one, so… it being new-looking shouldn't be a problem.'

Okay. Alright, he could do this. He could do some paperwork.

It wasn't nearly late enough for that kind of crime, though. Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and decided to spend a little of his money on food.

Long term, getting pre-made food with limited finances was a terrible decision. He knew he should be getting like, beans and rice. But for now he went into a bodega and got the cheapest thing that he thought would make a dent in his hunger– a microwave burrito and a cola. Calories were good, right? He wolfed it down outside the store and ducked back in to throw away the trash immediately.

It still wasn't late enough.

He walked around the city for hours, waiting for an idea to hit him. There had to be a great solution. If he could only think of it, there was going to be something that he could do that would fix all his problems. His throat was hot and tight and his eyes were burning. He didn't cry.

God, he was tired. He eventually gave up. He was so tired and he had no idea where he was going to sleep but he really needed to because he was exhausted -

"Stop. Stop spiraling," he told himself. He sniffled. Aw, no, he wasn't catching a cold, was he? Crap. He hoped not.

He didn't know what time it was, but it felt late enough. He made his way back to the vital statistics office to record his own birth.

Weirdly for a plan devised by Peter, it went smoothly. He entered from a 4th floor window without setting off any alarms. He found and powered on a computer in the right office (thanks for the labels!) and looked up a few birth certificates before he felt confident. He entered his data into the system and printed a copy before powering everything down.

He was out the window within ten minutes of entering the building.

Okay. That was step one. Birth certificate accomplished. "Congratulations, it's a boy," Peter muttered to himself. He patted at the bag to hear the reassuring crinkle of paper inside. Okay, that was great! It was progress. He felt better already.

What was next?

…A driver's license. No one actually went around with a copy of their birth certificate to show when someone asked for ID. He needed a driver's license.

He walked to the DMV and pulled off basically the same heist. The nerve wracking part was turning on the lights to take the photo. His stomach twisted and he was absolutely certain that someone was going to come and see why the lights were on.

No one came. He backdated his license to the appropriate year and printed one typed up information for James Tony Barnes, saying that he was 22. Then he altered the birth year back once more to say he was almost 18.

Nobody in their right mind was going to look at his 15-year-old face and think he was 22. They'd just think he had a fake license. Which he did, so he needed them to think the fake license was real. He let out a deep breath and victoriously hit print.

It returned an error message.

…It wouldn’t print. Why?

He scanned until he found the field he’d messed up. Peter stared at it.

It was the social security number. He’d typed up his real one out of force of habit. It had been flagged as a mistake because it already belonged to someone in the system.

Caught by a morbid curiosity, he looked up who it belonged to. It was a girl, actually, younger than him.

He wanted to cry. It was such a silly thing to cry over! He wasn’t emotionally attached to his social security number– it was just a string of data. But he sniffled. He wiped something away from his eyes that he didn’t think about. Don’t think about it. He wasn’t in a safe place to think about it yet.

It took a few minutes to calm himself. He erased everything he’d done, turned off the computer, and left the way that he’d come.

He couldn’t get the license yet. He needed to get a social security number first. That probably meant that he needed to do some research. Did the office of vital statistics issue them? It didn’t seem right, since each state had to be coordinated. Surely there was some kind of national office that handled all of it.

For lack of anything else to do, his feet took him back to the library. He was so tired that his eyes were aching.

Peter looked at the opening hours. He licked his teeth. He thought about it.

It opened at 10am. It was.. it was…

He decided to risk powering on the evil janitor's phone. It was 11 pm. That was plenty of time for him to sneak a nap on the couch in the quiet space.

"I'm not hurting anyone," Peter said aloud. It was very quiet. He spidered his way up the back wall of the library, pried open a window, and guiltily stretched out on one of the sofas. He set an alarm for 8am. That was definitely earlier than staff would come in, right? Pretty sure.

He slept like the dead. But specifically, like the restless dead- his spider sense woke him up. Peter had no idea what time it was or why he was awake. He blindly grabbed his bag and the phone and leapt back out the window. He was shutting it when the light turned on inside.

He blinked blearily at the sunlight. He checked the phone.

7:21 am. Wow. Okay. Library workers were diligent. Maybe they had to dust all the books or something. He powered the phone off, and wondered how long the battery would last. He didn't have the charger for it.

Well. It seemed like a good time to go to a different hotel from yesterday and check out the buffet.

The hotel he went to had a less exciting buffet. There were a couple kinds of sliced bread and packets of margarine and jelly, as well as coffee, water, milk, and two types of juice. Still, it was free food, so he smiled at the clerk like he belonged there. This time he took a lot less food. Like, a lot less. He didn't want to clear out too much of their stuff.

Two pieces of jellied toast, a water, an orange juice and a coffee later (blegh, it was burnt), Peter was back outside and at loose ends.

He didn't want to turn the phone on to check the time. He guessed it was maybe around 8am. He had a couple hours until the library opened up again.

Well. He sniffled his clothes experimentally.

He should work on that. This outfit wasn't smelly yet, but it would get there. He needed a change of clothes.

He took everything he owned to a rooftop and spread out his work kit. That was a rather grand way to say "three pilfered sewing kits."

The scissors that came with them were absolutely tiny. Peter picked one up and marveled at it. It wasn't going to cut fabric, no way. It would cut thread and that was it.

But woven fabric always tore along the seam line, right? Peter took out his dumpster shirts and found the one with the worst damage- the red shirt. He picked a spot and tore with his hands.

It tore a straight line.

"Yessss," he cheered. He muscled through the seam and then went back to make another tear a little bit above the other one, so that he was basically holding a crop top, a bottom part, and a two inch strip from the middle that was unusable because the scissor cut had been jagged. He wound that up and put it in his bag because he didn't know what else to do with it.

Now he felt nostalgic, so he took out the blue shirt and did the same thing. The cut hadn't been in exactly the same spot, so the shirt with the blue top and red bottom strip was going to be a little longer than the other shirt. But that was fine, right?

He pinned the majority red shirt together using the pins from all 3 packages and painstakingly threaded a needle with the dark blue thread. Then he got to work.

It wasn't hard, honestly. It was more meditative than anything else. He was mostly done when he had the feeling he was being watched. Peter lifted his head and looked down. Then around. Finally, he looked up. "You fly," he said, impressed. "That's cool."

The flying teenager cocked his head at Peter and floated down. It was- honestly, it was kinda creepy and uncanny. Flying shouldn't be silent. There should be, like- an engine running or wings flapping.

He tried to keep the unease off his face. This wasn't his universe. He'd look like a weirdo if he acted surprised about it. He tried to look normal.

"What are you doing?" The guy asked.

Cool, he must be pulling it off.

Peter lifted his sewing project and turned it to show off the seam where red met blue in a neat line. "Customizing my wardrobe," he said, like a freaking dork would. If he said it confidently enough it would sound cooler, right? He eyed up the other teenager. He had spikes on the shoulders of his leather jacket. "I guess you do that too. You uh…. You do that yourself?"

The guy touched the studs on his leather jacket self consciously. "No, I bought it this way." He leaned in. "I didn't know you could do that." He seemed impressed.

Peter flushed, discomfited as he tied off the knit and cut his needle free. This guy was way too cool looking to talk to Peter like that. "Yeah, you can do anything to your stuff," he said. Wow, so eloquent. He cleared his throat and tried to look busy turning the shirt inside out to show how it looked. Luckily it had turned out well. "I like your piercings." And the fade was cool too. Wow, no one at Midtown looked like that. Even their jocks were actually nerds. And this guy was a jock for real. He was huge and handsome.

The guy got real close, looking at Peter's bi-colored shirt.

Peter squirmed. The scrutiny was enough to make him feel paranoid about it being in Spiderman's colors. But this guy didn't know about him. Right? No way, there was no way. He stuffed it in his bag and tried not to look sweaty and suspicious. No underage vigilantes here. Just two normal guys on a 35th story rooftop.

"Teach me."

His head flew up at that imperious demand. "Teach you what exactly?" Peter was too surprised to moderate his tone. It came out too high, too nerdy. "Like- sewing in general, or- your jacket? Do you wanna customize your jacket more?" Oh, man, he was nervous enough that he couldn't speak straight. So embarrassing. Peter forced himself to smile and waited for the reaction with a cringe. This felt like the moment before he got put in a locker.

Man, this dude had intense blue eyes. And he was holding so still. Was he even breathing? "I want more metal in my jacket," he decided. "And- could we make part of it mesh?"

Peter was mostly just glad the guy had started breathing again.

'Mixing leather and mesh doesn't seem structurally sound. Plus, isn't leather meant to be kind of protective?'

…"If you pay for supplies, we can try," Peter said, because this might as well happen, and now he knew someone. Now he knew a normal human being from this universe who he could lean on for cues. He latched on- metaphorically. In reality, he just started packing up his supplies and hoped the guy didn't recognize them as hotel kits. Peter was used to the mortification of being poor, but this was a bit much even for him.

"Yeah, I have Luther's credit card." The guy whipped one out of nowhere and flipped it between his fingers at a dizzying pace. He slapped on a lazy grin and watched Peter intently as he did his weird little dexterity trick.

That was what broke his nerves. That? That was the kind of thing that Ned did in his practical magic phase.

'Is he trying to be cool?' Peter wondered, incredulous. 'He's trying way too hard. He's not actually that cool. I mean, he's definitely cooler than me, but it's not as bad as I thought.'

Awesome. Peter could work with that. He relaxed tremendously. He was just gonna think of this guy as a really muscular Ned. He was pretty sure that Ned would still hang out with Peter even if he'd gotten that tall and strong after puberty, so it was probably a fair comparison.

"That's great," he said, pretending he knew who Luther was. The guy's stepdad or something, probably. Why else would he have a credit card from someone he called by their name? "You wanna go now?" He paused. "I'm Peter, by the way."

The other boy's hand was weirdly warm and firm when he reached out for a handshake (what? Teenagers shake hands here?. That was so uncool and he'd never have guessed it). "Kon." He flashed his perfect teeth again. "Yeah, let's go. Wanna walk or fly?"

Peter shrugged. "Whichever is cool," he said. He hoped Kon didn't expect him to be able to fly. If he needed to he could like, parkour, and pretend that was just his preference.

"Flying it is!" Peter yelped and just barely aborted a dodge as Kon cheerfully grabbed him in a bridal carry and swooped out into the open air.

Kon and Peter, both wrong at the arts and crafts store: "I have successfully befriended a normal guy in my age group. I can copy him surreptitiously to learn to blend in better, as long as he doesn't learn that I'm not a cool guy like him."

#marvel dc crossover #peter parker #kon el superboy #red reassembly

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yetanothergreyjedi · 1 year

Text

Ghosts of Our Pasts: 9

DP x DC Crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne Siblings AU

Ao3

Masterpost Previous Next

Dani: Yo, what's with the massive group chat I just got dropped into?

Dani: I'm assuming you guys have to do with this

Tucker: ....did... did we forget to send you Danny’s new number?

Dani: he has a NEW one? I just swapped his contact information like 2 weeks ago

Tucker: it's actually the same number just backwards... present from the Backwards Day Ghost

Dani: WOW

Tucker: it was miserable

Dani: I'm sure

Dani: so about the group chat?

Tucker: Danny met his bio-sibling and he had a fraid too, so idk its like fraid inlaws or something?

Dani: Bio-sibling? Danny's adopted?

Tucker:Shouldn't you know this?

Dani: Why would I?

Tucker: You're his cousin....

Dani: Oh... I forgot I told you guys that...

Tucker: ?

Dani: I'm his clone

Tucker: this is gonna be a wild story isn't it

* Dani started a call that lasted 31 minutes *

---

Jazz: Danny why did you just put me in a group chat with like 25 people in it?

Danny: Sibling groupchat

Jazz: What?

Jazz: Danny, I'm going to need a bit more explanation than that.

Jazz: you didn't get cloned again?

Jazz: Did you???

Jazz: Danny?

* 1 missed call from Jazz *

* 2 missed calls from Jazz *

* 3 missed calls from Jazz *

---

Jazz: please tell me Danny lost his phone again and isn't in some kind of trouble.

Tucker: Oh, it's in his bag... he's out rn...

Jazz: out where?

Jazz: I thought this was supposed to be a 'laying low' vacation?

Sam: that was before he met his brother

Jazz: his brother?

Tucker: yeah! Apparently he's related to the Batman!

Jazz: you left him alone with his brother

Sam: Yeah...?

Jazz: the brother that killed him?

* multiple people are typing *

---

So yeah, Danny was officially tasting emotions now. He realized as Damian looked him over. The flour-y taste of concern was replaced with a salty-savory pride as he confirmed that, no, Danny hadn't been shot. (Well, he would've been, if he hadn't decided to not be tangible.) Then Bio-dad dropped down, mugger dude gave off another milk-sour wave of fear. Then Bio-dad saw the gun and huh, he didn't think describe how disappointment tasted with human words. But maybe he should be focusing less on what flavors most accurately described his stupid new empath ability and focus more on the situation at hand.

Together Dami and Bio-dad explained the normal process of cuffing criminals in obvious places so the police can find them. It was simple, didn't really require Danny to do anything, so he disassembled the weapon while he listened. Which he probably shouldn't have done, because now he was being asked to hand it over as evidence...

"Uh..." Danny fished the larger pieces back out of his pocket, but their was a lot of little ones, because he might've phased the screws out to take apart the fun little inner bits and he ended up dropping tiny metal parts all over the sidewalk.

There was a beat of silence, then Damian clicked his tongue with a little "Tt," and Danny flushed.

"Sorry..." Danny started.

"It's fine," the Bat said. Amusement, it turned out, tasted like raspberries.

Notes

Danny, holding a deadly weapon: "is this a fidget toy?"

Somebody told me once that they didn't see any Canon evidence that Sam and Tucker knew Dani was a clone. And like, their lives are so crazy that peice of information falling into a crack, sure. Where did Danny's concerned about vlad cloning people came from. Like they didn't question it, vlad is weird. They could see him doing it... oh... he did do it? That makes more sense than a sudden semi rational fear.

Also Batman has absolutely noticed some weird things about Danny. But he also knows that Danny has "a weird conglomeration" of Lazarus put side effects, and that Danny said "mood" about being in other dimensions. It might be ooc for him to be patient with answers, but he's in my story so he's gotta play by my rules.

Tag list

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecatenthusiast @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmello @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence @cloudminder @markus209 @everything163 @latheevening226 @roman4517 @moobloomrights @battybatbat @lumosfeather18581 @werv @ahyesanerd @pyramaniac @lexdamo @princessbelix @bun-fish @deeannthepan @edgyboi10000 @thatrandomsarahchick @busterkeel @aconitewolfsbane @spoopyspoony @bright-shade @spidey29phangirl @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @keimiwolf @u-a-wizard-jamie @gay-puff @bicerise @itshype @blackfoxsposts @icanneverdecide @lolottes @chubbypotato @jovialherringtacoghost @saltyladynightmare

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burnin0akleaves · 6 months

Text

Day 7 of drawing the hottest ranger every day:

Since this is the last day of my little TRR Will appreciation week, I wanted to draw something special and let you all in on an opinion of mine.

I think Will had a beard during his marriage with Alyss.

Now I'm not going to go too into detail about Will's character, how some people seem to infantilize him or how his 30s largely get forgotten by the fandom because I actually want to dedicate a huge masterpost on all of these later. Not anytime soon, because I don't have that much free time, but ideally it would be me going over and analyzing Will's character progression throughout the entire series and presenting some arguments against common (what I believe to be) misconceptions on how he is portrayed in TRR.

For now though, I'll just talk about the beard directly.

After the prologue where we see Will on his revenge mission, the first time we are actually introduced to him is in his cabin when Halt and Gilan are there to talk to him about Maddie. This is the first time we actually learn about how Will looks in detail.

Now that he mentioned the fact, Halt noticed that his clothes were crumpled and stained and his hair and beard were long and uncut,

Will's depression leaves him "messy", both his house and his physical appearance not cared for. He doesn't care about daily tasks anymore, he just wants to see the killers of his wife behind bars. It's probably the only thing getting him to get out of bed everyday because have no doubt that this is a coping mechanism. After seeing him probably for the first time in months, Halt realizes that his hair and beard are both long and uncut.

Notice how this doesn't say anything about Will growing his beard out recently? Hell, I'd say its proof that Will's beard isn't new. Halt isn't suprised that Will has a beard, he is suprised at the lack of care he shows for himself. Will's hair is long and uncut too, did he grow out depression hair from scratch??

I think what most people forget when they read TRR is that at minimum 15 years have passed since Will and Alyss' wedding. Both of them had around 13 years to grow and mature and we as an audience don't see them during their 30s at all.

I think most of the traits people attribute to TRR Will believing they are a result of his loss of Alyss, are just signs of him maturing. People are NOT the same in their 20s and 40s, and they shouldn't be. Everyone reading this post has the right to shoot me point blank in 20 years if I'm the exact same person I am now.

Will, after his initial and very understandable period of depression, earns a lot of the traits he used to be associated with during his younger years back. He starts laughing again, he starts to make bad jokes, he allows the people he loves back into his life and learns to move on. He also still has a beard.

The point I'm trying to make here is that even if Alyss hadn't died, Will would still be closer to what we have in TRR now compared to the main series. Because he shouldn't be the same Will. He is a grown ass man in his 40s, while some traits like his high energy and joking personality will stay with him for the rest of his life they will be filtered down. They should be. That's what maturing does to a person and 30s are the prime age for this.

Going back to the beard, Will has no reason not to have one. It suits his personality, Will doesn't care too highly for his looks and likely wouldn't bother to shave daily. All the men around him had beards as he grew up, including his father figure, and he has no reason to not follow the same pattern. Beards are also very common for the time period we're speaking about.

Is the beard used by Flanagan as a simple plot point to show him aging? Absolutely. But it's really not tied to his depression as heavily as people think. The reason he becomes dark and grim for 2 years before learning to enjoy life again is the same reason his beard is unruly and not taken care of before becoming better shaven. Will, even if at the lowest point of his life, is still Will. He has a beard because he wants one, not because he is depressed. And I believe it makes the most sense for him to start growing his beard out during his marriage mainly because of the fact that there is no reason for him not to.

Howls you just talked to me about why Will has a beard while married to Alyss for 4 hours, why does he have just stubble in the drawing then? Easy, artistic choices. It's easier to separate Will in his 30s than Will in his 40s by giving him different facial hair. That's it. It's a bit of a cheap narrative device but it's also realistic and fitting for his character.

Will had a beard during his late 30s with Alyss and that's it, that's the post.

#will treaty #alyss mainwaring #willyss #rangers apprentice #the royal ranger #🍃 fanart #dilf will week

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allmoshnobrain · 6 months

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 20 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2235 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly. I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

✦ summary: After coming back to Los Angeles, Nore has to deal with Dave's reaction when he gets to know about Metallica's new album.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angry sex, (light) spanking, jealousy, angst

✦ a/n: I'm back! First of all, I would just like to say I'm really sorry it took me this long to post a new part. My life's been crazy busy and I was a bit burned out from writing, so I just had to take a break for a bit. But I took a few weeks to rest and now I'm ready to keep writing the story :) I hope you guys like this new chapter! The dynamics in Dave and Nore's relationship are starting to get a little more complicated, and we'll see how this plays out soon. Feedback is welcome! ❤

I rolled back into Los Angeles the next morning. Having a motorcycle as a birthday gift from my parents sure had its perks, like getting around town without suffering the rickety old buses. The ride from San Francisco to LA was a trek, and it got me thinking about those not-so-distant days when Cliff would cruise from San Francisco to Long Beach just to hang out with me.

Man, I was already starting to miss him.

Los Angeles was its usual chaotic self, just like I'd left it the day before. But coming back after my San Francisco escapade was a whole different deal. I couldn't help but wonder if the concert and everything that went down afterward had stirred up a whole lot more in me than I was ready to admit.

Dave wasn’t in when I got to our apartment, so I dropped my bag and the presents on the couch and hit the shower to unwind after that exhausting trip. As I was getting dressed, I heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door, letting me know he had just arrived home .

It was kind of unusual for him not to swing by and say hi right away, but it didn't take me long to figure out why. After I got dressed, I headed into the living room and there he was, looking at the new addition to my vinyl collection with a frown.

"Dave...?" I said, nervously. I wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to the sight of the new Metallica record. I probably should've thought about it before leaving it lying on the couch, but I was so beat from the trip that it didn't even cross my mind that he might not be thrilled with my gift.

He looked up at me, and I could tell he was torn between anguish and something tougher that made me swallow hard.

"I had no clue they dropped the album," he commented, expressionless. Somehow, his effort to act like it wasn't a big deal just seemed to make it worse, the tension in the room growing like a bubble about to burst.

"It was a gift," I mumbled softly. He snorted, arching an eyebrow, and I felt my face turn beet red. My voice wavered, "I didn't know they had released it either; they told me just recently. It's just that..."

"Did you know they used my music in this crap?" he growled. I blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Jump in the Fire? Metal Militia? Phantom Lord?" he snapped, shaking the vinyl's booklet in my direction, seeming on the verge of blowing a gasket. "I helped write all this shit. And they didn’t even credit me! I told them not to use my stuff. I fucking told them!"

I opened my mouth in surprise, my heart clenching with anguish and anger. That was just wrong. Dave had confided in me how he'd asked the guys not to use any of his songs or solos. I didn't know what was worse, them ignoring his wishes or not even bothering to inform us.

"Dave, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this," I murmured, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. He looked at me, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"It's alright," he muttered, though his voice still carried a trace of annoyance. He wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling into the curve of my neck and giving me a tight hug. "It's okay. It's not your fault if they used you to get to me."

I furrowed my brow, my body tensing at his words. I pulled away slightly, locking eyes with him.

"Dave... I don't think that's what happened."

He arched an eyebrow at my words, and I pulled back slightly when I detected a flash of hurt in his eyes, though it quickly turned into a cold, almost icy expression. It was evident that he was hurt, but it wasn't just that; having his songs used without his permission had pushed him over the edge. He was seething with anger.

"You're being too naive," he said in a low, chilling voice I hadn't heard from him before. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race uncomfortably in my chest.

"Dave, it's Cliff. He wouldn't do that..."

"They used my fucking songs!" he snarled, his voice growing louder. I took a step back, and he exhaled deeply, now visibly angry. "You're fooling yourself. Do you think they're nice guys? They didn't care about me, so why would they care about you now?"

"It's not like that..."

"Of course, it's like that," he laughed, a bitter and painful laugh that made me flinch. "You don't realize, do you? They don't think I'm good enough, but you are! I bet Cliff would be thrilled if we broke up now. Have you ever thought about that?"

“But I don’t want to break up with you,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. This was going much, much worse than I had expected. Of course, I knew Dave's reaction to seeing the album wouldn't be great, but somehow, I always ended up trying to convince myself that he would handle it more calmly.

I should have known that Dave Mustaine's anger and resentment would be anything but calm.

"This isn't about what you want, it's about what you do! Why did you have to bring this here?" he shouted. His voice held more distress than anger, and it pained me. Beyond the pain of our argument, I couldn't bear to see him like this and know it was my fault. I could have avoided all of this if I hadn't been blinded by my own happiness in seeing my friends again, in seeing a glimpse of the happiness we used to have together. "Why do you have to keep hanging out with them? Don't I matter to you? Don't you care about me?"

"You're getting it all wrong," my voice quivered as I fought back my tears. "You can't say these things, Dave, you're hurting me!"

"Well, what about me? Can't you see you're hurting me too?"

"I thought I told you not to make me choose."

"I'm not making you choose! "

"Yes, you are! I asked you to trust me..."

"I do trust you, damn it! I love you!"

"Then act like you love me!" I shouted. I gasped in shock as he swiftly closed the distance between us, pulling me close to his body furiously, and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth with a fervor I'd never felt before. I moaned into his kiss, my legs going weak as I clung to his arms. His embrace tightened around my waist, his other hand gripping the base of my neck just enough to leave me breathless.

"If you want me to prove that I love you, then I'm gonna prove it now," he growled, anger smoldering in his eyes like poison. I pulled him into another kiss, my body burning like wildfire as he undressed me and we stumbled towards the bedroom.

"Is this what you wanted all along?" I mumbled, my lingering frustration from our argument making me bolder as I hastily removed his shirt, his lips seeking mine in a desperate hunger.

"Don't test me, Burton," he snarled. I let out a surprised gasp as he spun me around, firmly placing me on my knees at the edge of the bed. One of his arms held my waist, pressing my back against his chest, while the other hand gripped the nape of my neck, his lips and tongue aggressively exploring my soft skin.

“D… Dave…” I closed my eyes, a muffled moan escaping my lips as his hand on my waist moved down to the wetness between my legs, his fingers penetrating me without warning and curling inside me. He rumbled against my skin, holding me closer to him, his lips gliding up my neck until they reached my ear.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, a hint of concern evident in his voice despite his tension. I shook my head “no”, pressing myself against him, and he chuckled softly before pulling my waist tightly against his own, pushing my shoulder until I was on all fours on the bed. I moaned softly as he caressed my ass slowly before giving me a slap that made my skin crawl all over, pain and pleasure mixed together as tears gathered in my eyes. He grunted quietly, seeming pleased with my reaction. “Do you like that? Answer me. ”

“Y… Yeah… Ah! ” I flinched when he slapped me again, and he laughed. I felt my heart speed up when I heard him take off his pants and felt him climb onto the bed, his hands slowly caressing my waist.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his fingers penetrating me again and moving inside me. I moaned softly, my skin still tingling with the pain of his spanking, contrasting with the increasing pleasure that the movement of his fingers made me feel.

I moaned as he pressed his cock against me, my clenched fists gripping the bed sheet tightly as he entered me slowly. Dave let out a low moan, holding my waist tightly as he began to move. I closed my eyes, reduced to a mess of muffled moans as I felt him move, pushing deeper and deeper, making my whole body shake with pleasure. Right then, I knew he was taking out all his frustration and anger on me — and I loved every second of it.

"You're mine," he rumbled, his voice low. He drew me in closer, guiding me up again as he pressed my back against his chest, still holding my waist with one hand as he thrust faster and faster inside me, his lips eagerly seeking mine. I moaned into his kiss when his tongue invaded my mouth, taking one of my hands to my clit, massaging it in circles while burying my other hand in his hair. He brought his other hand up to my face, pulling away slightly and tracing the outline of my lip with his thumb as he looked into my eyes, his lips parted and his eyes out of focus as he lost himself in pleasure. “You’re mine,” he murmured, feverishly, his hips moving faster and faster, hitting all the sweetest spots inside me. I shuddered, moaning loudly as I felt my body contract, our peaks approaching together. “You’re mine, Nore. Mine.”

“Ah… D-Dave!” I closed my eyes, letting him press me against his body as my orgasm swept through me in a shock wave that made me contract all over. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he came with me, his movements becoming sloppy as his seed filled me.

I sighed, shakily, as he pulled out of me. I laid face down on the bed, letting out a groan into the pillow. He gently pushed my hair aside, planting a soft kiss on my shoulder before settling down beside me.

"Is everything alright?" he inquired in a hushed tone while his fingers gently traced my cheek. I opened my eyes and gazed into his concerned expression, mustering a faint smile.

"Everything's fine," I mumbled, reaching my hand up to his face. He furrowed his brows, suddenly recoiling as he seized my wrist.

"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice tensing, his eyes locking onto my knuckles. I blinked in surprise. In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten momentarily that my hand was still a little swollen, the skin turning a soft shade of purple as the bruises from the previous day's punch began to appear.

"It wasn't a big deal, Dave," I said, and he gave me an incredulous look. I blinked, feeling my face flush. "Just some jerk who tried to hassle me after the gig yesterday. So, I gave him a punch."

"You did what?" he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. I chuckled softly, but Dave frowned, concerned, as if he didn't quite buy my reaction. "Nore, this is serious! Did he do something to you?"

"Dave, it's alright... Cliff helped me." I stretched the truth a bit. I didn't want to bring up James' help, not after Dave and I had our spat about the album. Especially not after recalling last night in the kitchen and the way James had held my hand, his eyes locking onto mine for just a fleeting moment before Leanne and Cliff interrupted us.

“You go out solo once, and this is what happens?” Dave grumbled, and I chuckled as I cradled his face in my hands. He sighed before drawing me nearer, planting a slow kiss on my lips. I sighed happily, feeling myself melt into the warmth of his kiss as I nestled in his embrace. He pulled back, gently gripping my chin. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you.”

"It's okay, Dave," I murmured, softly. "But you've got to trust me. I'm with you because I love you."

"I know. I'm sorry," he replied, his voice gentle, burying his face in my chest and pulling me into a tight hug. "You're mine," he whispered, his arms embracing me as if he needed to reassure himself that what he said was true. "Everything's alright. You're mine."

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huffle-dork · 20 days

Text

Swap Across the CrystalVerse Chapter 15: The Bad End

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs| You've reached a Bad End (Also on AO3!)

Read SITCV | SATCV Masterpost | AO3 Link

Jackie lands by himself. Unlike the isolation of the last location, this time he is in an urban area. It's twilight, with bright light coming from windows and street lamps. He's arrived in a small green location, a closed-in park, if it can be called that when Jackie can see all of the corners from where he's standing in the center. And though he's landed without any of his companions, he is not alone.

"Whoa!" a voice says in surprise. A couple is standing around, under the only big tree in this park-like area. One is a man with brown hair, wearing a jacket and fingerless gloves, and the other is a woman with dyed-blonde hair, wearing an oversized green hoodie. They're both staring at Jackie.

"So," the woman says, identifying herself as the shouter. "They were right, after all."

The man nods. "I mean... of course. They're usually right, even if, uh, this hasn't happened before."

Jackie shakes himself out and then jumps as he hears the shout. He holds his hands up and then blinks at the couple. "uh.... who was... right about what? ...Something about me I'm guessing?" He laughs nervously, messing with his hair.

"Yeah." The man laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Our... friend, Sam. They told us you'd be here. I mean, not you specifically, They actually said that it might be one of four people and one of them might be dangerous, but uh... yeah. We know you're from another universe."

"I'm Stacy," the woman says. "This is Chase."

Jackie blinks more, "Oh... okay well... that makes this a whole lot easier then. That's... a relief." He does looks pretty surprised to see Chase and Stacy but- he really should be getting used to this by now, huh? He points to himself with his thumb, putting his other hand in his jacket. "I'm Jackie. Nice to meet ya both."

Chase laughs again. "Yeah, I can see it. You look like how our Jackie looked."

Stacy glances around. "We shouldn't stay in one place too long," she mutters. "If there's supposed to be four of you, we need to find the other three. I hope Sam was right about where they'd be. I hope that our teams can find them."

"Jack can check on them," Chase says, looking to the side like he's looking at something invisible. "Right? Okay, yeah. No, go on, the sooner the better."

One of the nearby street lamps flickers, a few sparks flying off from the bulb. "Sorry, you're probably really confused," Stacy says to Jackie. "But we can talk while we walk."

"Uh... yeah- massively but, that'd be grand." Jackie says, looking around anxiously. "...I also don't like how you said... 'looked'. But.. I feel like that'll get explained? Hopefully?"

Chase sighs as they start to walk. "Yeah... um. So. I don't know how things work in your universe, Sam didn't explain that, but here we have, uh... someone. We can't say his name, that draws his attention, but he's like--like a living glitch."

"That doesn't really explain much," Stacy points out.

"Look, it's hard to explain. Basically, this guy started out by haunting me and my friends, a-and then, somehow, he learned how to mind control people. We call it corruption. Our Jackie got corrupted, a-and then the rest of us did. And then he started moving on to corrupting other people, too."

"There's a small group of us who know about this," Stacy adds. "We're stuck in hiding, trying to figure out a way to fix this. Recently, though, we did make a breakthrough. We might be able to uncorrupt people, a-and Sam says that if we uncorrupt the rest of Chase's friends, we can go after him directly."

Jackie listens with wide eyes, "...oh... woah. That's... that's like super intense right off the bat." He pushes his hair back and takes a shaky breath. "Okay so... wait-" He looks at Chase, "did you get... corrupted too? you said- the rest of us did. I'm assuming you mean like... me, you, henrik, jj and ...marvin?"

Chase hesitates, then nods. "Y-yeah. I did. I just got freed recently, actually."

"The first time something like that happened," Stacy adds.

"A-and you're right, it was the five of us," Chase says. "Our friend Jack was put in a coma... though, uh, apparently he... broke free of it? I-it's hard to explain."

"Basically his mind is wandering around as a ghost," Stacy explains. "With similar powers to him."

"A-and sorry for all the intensity," Chase adds. "I just... don't know what he would do if the corrupted found you and your friends. So we have to go fast. Wh-where do you guys usually appear? Sam told us possible locations, but They weren't sure."

“Well… I guess now we know it’s possible…” Jackie mumbles, nervously playing with his hoodie strings. “Um… I dunno- usually near… others like us. Which if like- the rest of them are corrupted… that’s really not good-“

Stacy inhales sharply. "Yeah. No. Not good."

"Most of them don't even leave the Place all that often," Chase mutters. "Oh. Uh, that's like... a pocket dimension. Where the corrupted have their main base."

"We'll get you back to our hideout first," Stacy says.

“O-Okay…” Jackie replies quietly, looking pale. God… could these corrupted guys be more powerful then bro and Alt? And maybe even Mag? That’s… terrifying to think about honestly. He sticks close to Stacy and Chase, eyeing the shadows like anything could pop out at them- holding Alt’s pocket knife he still forgot to give back.

The group walks up to an alleyway, walking into it. There's a door tucked away here, one that looks like it hasn't been opened in years. Stacy opens it up, revealing a staircase going downwards.

Jackie blinks at the entrance, looking around. “Woah- okay… gonna ignore how that’s very creepy.” He follows them down.

"You get used to it," Stacy says.

There's a camping lantern hanging on the wall just where it starts to get dark. She grabs it, turning it on. The staircase ends, and a rough stone tunnel leads ahead into the darkness.

"There are tons of caves under the city," Chase explains. "Entrances all over for, like, spelunkers and urban explorers and shit. But not all the caves are mapped, so that's where the group hides out."

Jackie whistles, impressed. “Damn- hope nobody has claustrophobia.” He mutters.

"They open up eventually," Chase says. "But yeah. Marvin would hate it here."

“…Alt might too. He’s been kinda… weird about tight spaces lately. But… if it’s the only safe space I’m sure he’ll understand.” He shakes his head, “Alt’s one of my friends by the way. The other is Chase- like you. But he also goes by Bro Fantastic- he’s a superhero. So… hopefully he’ll be okay…”

Chase laughs. "A superhero? Bro, I'd love to be a superhero. The Jackie here was actually doing some vigilante work before--he didn't have any powers but it's the closest thing to a superhero we had. His day job wasn't that exciting, though, just food delivery. Then Hen was a doctor, a surgeon, Marvin did stage shows, JJ... is a bit complicated, he did some work from home, and Jack made videos on YouTube, let's plays."

"This guy made YouTube stuff too," Stacy says, nudging Chase. "Throwing stuff around the house."

"Trickshots! They were... averagely popular."

“Hey! I’m a YouTuber too! I do parkour- recreating stuff from comics and movies.” Jackie says with a grin. “Man… always so weird to see so many places have stuff similar but… we’re the odd ones out. It’s always hard to imagine my lads the way yours are.” He laughs. “Alt’s a magician- in like the learning magic sense. He also does shows though- illusion shows with like neat lights and stuff. Our Jays is a doctor- a therapist. And Henny, he’s the actor- a damn good one too despite being deaf.”

"Whoa, really? Alt sounds cool," Chase says, grinning. "Marvin does magic too--real magic."

Jackie grins. “Alt is cool. He can be… kinda rough around the edges but he’s a good kid, deep down.”

"Can't picture Henrik being deaf," Stacy comments.

"Yeah, that's a bit weird. So I'm guessing you know BSL then? All of us do, too, since JJ can't talk. That could come in handy."

“Yeah we know it. I sprung to learn it once Henrik came along. I knew some from knowing J is college though. Sometimes he goes non-verbal. …more so recently.” Jackie mutters.

Chase sighs. "Yeah. Marvin did the same thing, sometimes. And since the... well, he doesn't talk much now." He shakes his head. "Anyway. Hopefully that'll be in the past soon."

"Hopefully," Stacy adds. "Oh, careful here, the floor gets a bit steep as it slopes."

“Mmmm…” Jackie hums in worry. “…the other person we’re with… Mag. Or Magnificent… he used to be our Marvin. Or… my Marvin… at least. He got… corrupted in a way. His own fault though… I dunno how he’s gonna hold up against these corrupted guys but… figured you know now.” He nods to Stacy and carefully makes his way down the cave slope.

"Hmm." Chase hums. "Well... when you're corrupted, you don't feel pain, and and you don't get exhausted. You're stronger and faster since you can push your body to the limits. And you get... weird powers." He scratches the back of his hand through the fingerless glove he's wearing. "They're really varied, and a corrupted will only have one or two, but they'll be very good at the powers they have. What about your Magnificent?"

“Mag still kinda feels pain but it’s definitely reduced. And he still gets tired - thank god. Don’t think he needs to eat anymore though? I think he like- lives off magic. So he can steal that from people.” Jackie says, “He also has like- mind magic. Can hypnotize you and shit and… make you a puppet or pet. He has other magic too but he… goes for that first. Trying to break your mind.”

"Well that's the same at least," Chase mutters in response to that last part. "Wonder if he'll be able to affect the corrupted ones or if the corruption, uh, supersizes that."

"Supersedes," Stacy corrects. "It means to take the place of something."

"Really? Oh, uh, I guess the new magic would be the superseder, then."

"Hm... I'm not sure... But I bet Mag would probably try to find out," Jackie grumbles. "He's very proud of his magic. Overconfient, usually. He's a prick."

Chase laughs. "Well... guess we might find out eventually."

They continue down into the depths of the tunnels.

-----------

Bro and Alt land right next to each other, falling hard onto a cement sidewalk. This is a run-down part of a city, with closed shops and some trash bags piled up against the walls. Everything looks closed and empty.

Alt groans and glitches to sit up, rubbing at his face. He blinks when he sees the bright orange of his brother's jacket and glitches over to help him up. "Chase!"

Bro laughs, letting Alt help. "Hey! We ended up together this time!"

Alt smiles and chuckles quietly, "Yeah... a bit of relief, huh?" He looks around as he helps him and Bro up. "...this place is... creepy as fuck."

"Yeah no agreed." Bro mumbles.

The creepy atmosphere is not helped by the shadow of someone moving inside one of the closed-looking shops.

Alt and Bro jump slightly as the shadow moves. "...should we like... go say hi?" Bro asks quietly.

"What? No!" Alt hisses.

“What if its one of us? We land near them more often then not!"

"I think i'd rather not knock on the door of a run down shop in the middle of abandoned nowhere!" Alt emphasizes. He grabs Bro's arm, "C-C'mon Chase- let's just... go! Get out of this place at least..."

Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound comes from the TRVLR.

Alt's stomach drops. He let's go of Chase and slowly pulls the TRVLR out, checking the message.

"Alt? What's wrong?" Bro asks quietly, looking over his shoulder.

The screen displays a message in white letters on black.

WARNING

Current Location: 50.91125, -0.31761 in universe UA-0503019BE is currently undergoing unusual space-time phenomena.

Caution is advised. Please jump at the first sign of danger.

Alt calms down a bit, it's not the same message he got in that horror world. But still... not a good sign.

"What does that mean?" Bro asks.

Alt shakes his head, "Not entirely sure but... means we need to be careful."

And then the door of the closed shop opens, and out steps a man in an old red hoodie and blue boots. He has unkempt brown hair, and his eyes are hidden by black sunglasses. Strange. It's too dark to need them.

"Anti?" the man says. "You found him? You didn't tell me you were going out. Wait, you didn't take Voice? Why, is something wrong with him?"

The brothers jumps again as the door opens. Alt glitches in place and swallows slowly. He tries to speak but he finds his throat closing up.

Bro takes up his silence, squinting at the man. "The fuck are you talking about? Who is Voice? Also- this guy may look like whoever you know as Anti but he's not- his name is Alt. Only I can call him Anti- thank you very much."

The man takes a step backwards. He stares at Alt, confused. "You're... not him. I mean... that would explain why you look like that. I was so confused about who Anti would have been..." He looks back and forth between Bro and Alt. "If you don't know about Voice, then you're not with us. But... he's glitching. Why?"

Alt shakes his head, "...w-we're from another universe... Where I... I'm Anti and he's Chase but we're... different."

"Yeah so- who are you? ... I mean probably Jackie cuz of the red hoodie. Isn't that weird? Always a guy that looks kinda like the rest of us but put him in a red hoodie and woah- it's Jackie." Bro laughs, more at ease then Alt is.

Alt is staring at the man, his paranoia at an all time high.

The man stiffens at the mention of 'Jackie.' "Don't fucking call me that," he snaps. "That's not my name anymore. What the hell are you talking about, from another universe?" He shakes his head, then reaches into his pocket and takes out a phone. He texts something, fingers moving quickly.

Bro's face falls, "...w-what? ...i-if you're not Jackie then... w-who are you?"

"Well, I was Jackie," the man says. "But I changed my name after Anti helped me--"

Alt's eyes narrow and start to spark slightly. "It means what it means. We're not from here. We're from a parallel world." He notices the phone and then flicks his wrist to try to blast the phone out of his wrist with some electricity.

Alt's lightning hits the man's hand, causing it to spasm and the phone to fall out.

"Alt! What are you doing?!" Bro gasps.

"None of this is adding up, Chase- and if he knows an Anti... I don't trust it." Alt growls.

The man looks down at the phone. Then back up at Alt and Bro. "Oh. Okay." Static tinges his voice. "I see how it is. Well, I got my answer, anyway." He takes off the sunglasses, revealing pitch black eyes underneath. And then he lunges at the two of them with surprising speed.

The brothers both shudder as they see the man's black eyes and static voice. Alt tries to flicker up a shield to protect them- but the man easily barrels through it.

He pushes Bro to the side and grabs Alt, knocking him to the ground. Bro shouts as he's thrown.

Squares of blue and red static form around the man. Alt watches as one cuts into his skin like it's a physical thing, and yet the man doesn't even flinch. "Come with me, please," the man says, grinning, and starts dragging Alt down the street.

Alt screeches and tries to fight his way out of the man's grip- and tries to glitch away. Bro quickly pushes himself up and tries to help get Alt away.

Alt manages to glitch out and falls into Bro's arms and both of them go flying back.

Alt is breathing heavily, hurriedly getting to his feet and sparking magic in his hands. "N-No! Don't touch me!" He shouts at the man.

The man blinks, looking surprised at Alt's glitching. Then he laughs. "Nice trick!" He pulls something out of his pocket and rushes them again.

Alt falters and tries to shoot lightning at him but misses wildly.

Bro is pushing himself up, "H-He has to be... posessed or something right?? Jackie! S-Snap out of it!"

"I'm--not--Jackie!" the man shouts, grabbing Alt once more and pressing the item from his pocket to his throat. A knife. "Jackie was weak. Jackie couldn't do anything. But I'm so much better now. Now that Anti has helped me, now that Anti has given me power."

The man bares his teeth in a maniacal grin. "My name is Error, and if you try anything, I'll kill this one."

Alt freezes instantly, his blood roaring his ears as he starts to quietly panic.

Bro tries to reach out but freezes too as he threatens Alt. "P-Please... d-don't do this! Just... let him go please-!" He begs.

"No. Anti wants to see him." Error starts dragging Alt backwards. "But I'm sure he'd understand if something happened in the struggle."

Bro cries out, "No! Y-You can't" He's having vivid flashbacks of Alt getting kidnapped all those years ago. Why can't he get himself to move??

Behind Bro, Alt sees something. One of the street lamp flickers, and a bit of white static shoots down to the ground, becoming an outline of a human, complete with clothes and hair. The static figure sees this happening and freezes, seemingly in fear.

Alt wants to struggle but the knife has him completely stiff. He sees the figure behind Bro and tries to shout out, "H-Help! Please!'

The figure pauses, thinking quickly. And then it runs forward, passing right through Bro--who sees nothing whatsoever--and reaching out for Error and Alt.

Alt feels static rush along him, kind of like--like those times when he fused with other Antis. But this time a fusion does not happen. Instead the static figure disappears and Error's eyes are suddenly filled with white static. He drops the knife and backs away from Alt. The red and blue glitches around him surge, more appearing, tearing the fabric of his hoodie and the skin beneath.

Alt stiffens as the feeling of static rushes through him. As soon as the knife drops Alt glitches over to Bro who grabs him and holds him close- Alt is shaking like a leaf and Bro doesn't look much better.

"You h-have to run," Error's voice says--though the inflections sound nothing like him. "I c-can't keep c-control for long."

Alt stares at the white eyed Error and stutters out to speak. "W-Who are you?"

“My name’s Jack,” the person says. Error’s eyes flicker, turning pure black again for a moment. “Go! Get underground!”

Error’s body collapses.

Bro and Alt’s eyes widen. Then, Bro grabs Alt and half slings him over his shoulder, running away as fast as he can away from Error’s body.

“G-Get underground?! How do we get underground??” Bro asks through pants.

“I-I dunno…!” Alt breathes, too panicked to really protest Bro grabbing him.

Behind them, Error gets to his feet again. "Get back here!" he shouts, running after them. Holy shit, this guy is fast! He's already right on their heels!

"Chaassee!" Alt calls in panic, tugging on him.

Bro looks behind them and then curses, trying to pick up speed. "F-Fucking shit!"

The street lamps over head flicker and Alt sees the static figure again. It--Jack?--gestures to the left at an upcoming intersection.

Alt sees Jack and once they get to the intersection, Alt tugs on Bro and whispers, "Left!" Bro looks at him confused but doesn't question it and he makes a hard left turn.

This street is just as empty as the other one, though there are now cars parked that indicate people are nearby. Error isn't phased by the possibility of being seen. He skids a bit while turning, losing a bit of speed, but quickly makes up for it.

Jack appears and gestures for the two of them to head down an alleyway.

Alt looks around and once he spies Jack he tugs and points where he does, "In there!"

"Bro I have no idea how you know this but I trust you!" Bro mutters as he stumbles and hurries down the alleyway.

The alleyway ends in a wall, with a flimsy wooden door. Jack rushes towards it and gestures for the guys to go through it.

Bro slows down and huffs in panic, seeing the wall. "No! What??"

Alt sees the door and glitches out of Bro's arms and pushes Bro towards the door. "G-Get inside there! I'll hold him back!" He faces the rest of the alleyway and makes a glitching shield to try to cut Error off.

Bro hesitates then nods and opens up the door to try to get inside-

Beyond is a staircase leading down. At the very bottom is a faint light, provided by a camping lantern.

Bro pants and heaves after all that running and glances back at Alt before quickly heading down- he's sure Alt will glitch down to meet him in a second!

The staircase ends in a room with white plaster walls, wired and lightbulbs along the ceiling, and a rough stone floor underfoot. Three tunnel entrances branch off, turning into rough caves. One is blocked off by warning tape.

Error runs past the alleyway entrance at first, but then reappears once he notices the shield. "Oooo, pretty," Error says--and somehow it doesn't sound as mocking as that phrase usually would when coming from a villain's mouth. Then he shakes his head, as if regaining his concentration, and straight-up rushes the shield.

Alt isn't expecting Error to rush the shield and it mildly shocks Error as he hits it. But then it very quickly shatters in an explosive manner. Alt flies back and hits the wall and quickly tries to glitch back to his feet, stumbling over himself as spots dance in his eyes. He notices the door and rushes to shut it- not wanting Error to get in.

Error seems unbothered by the shocks and leaps at Alt, tackling him and pinning him to the wall. "Hi," he grins. "Are you going to come with me by yourself, or do I need to knock you out or something?"

Alt gets tackled and cries out, looking at Error with a bit of fear.

Bro hears the door slam behind him and hurries to try to get to the door, "A-Alt?!"

Alt hears Chase and finds himself more scared of Error finding him- and maybe even Jackie. He glares at Error and then whispers quietly, "...I'll- I'll come with you. Just... just leave my brother alone."

Bro's eyes widen and he tries to open the door but they're both up against it. He hits the door and yells out, "NO! Don't you fucking dare! Anti!" He screams at the end, making Alt wince and then shut his eyes.

"Hmm." Error blinks. "I guess he would be more interested in talking to you..." He pauses. "Alright." And he smiles. "In that case, let's go." He pulls Alt away from the wooden door and opens it up again-- But instead of the staircase from before, it opens up into a strange place. A place with a floor made of corrugated metal and black, featureless walls that stretch up into a high ceiling. Red light fills the space. On the other side of the door, Bro feels as though it's still blocked.

"After you," Error prompts.

Bro desperately tries to burst down the door, tears in his eyes. "Anti!! ANTI!!"

Alt staggers a bit as he's pulled away and looks at the new doorway with its red light with increasing dread. He closes his eyes and swallows shakily, telling himself he's doing the right thing. Bro would be able to find the others... and he can find out more about the threats and hopefully warn him. Then, he sets his face in determination and walks inside.

Error follows him, closing the door behind him. The moment it's shut it flies open again beneath the strength of Bro's fists, back to normal.

Bro falls a bit as the door is burst open and hurries back out into the alleyway, desperately looking around. "A-Alt?! Anti! W-Where are you?! Y-You- you better not have-!"

When he's met with silence, tears fall down his face as he looks around hopelessly. "...A..Anti?"

Silence. Stark, deafening silence.

After another beat, Bro hangs his head and lets out a roar of anger and frustration, punching the nearest wall and then falling against it, breaking down. "No...! No no no! FUCK!" His sobs quickly take over the silence, echoing around the alley as it comes crashing down on him. He was supposed to protect him! Why did he leave him?! He should have been there! He was right there and-!

Moments pass. Bro is alone in the alley. Until, finally, there's sound. Footsteps. Coming from... behind him? Echoing up the stairway that he just came from.

Bro almost doesn't hear it- but he finally starts to bring himself back out and pull himself together when he hears it. He gasps and backs up, holding his fists out in front of him and getting into shaking fighting stance, his eyes glowing blue.

Five people walk up the staircase, a whole group. They stop short upon seeing Bro with his eyes glowing blue. Three women, two men. They... look terrible. Like they'd been wearing the same clothes for a couple days. They also all have weapons. Knives on sheathes around their waists, mostly, but one of the women--one with short dark hair--has a freaking shotgun on her back. Pretty much all of them go for their weapons soon, but the one with the shotgun holds up a hand calmly.

"This... may sound strange," she says in an accented voice. "But are you from another universe?"

Bro's eyes widen and he slowly lowers his fists, taking in the look of all of them. They can see the tear streaks on his face and his red-rimmed eyes. "Um... y-yes... Yes I am... how... how did you know?"

"We were told people from another world would be coming here," the woman says slowly. "Strange, but the source is reliable. We... came here to find you all before something... bad happened..." She trails off.

"Are you okay?" another shorter woman asks.

"You can't just ask that, Rya," a redheaded man says.

"Yeah I can, Kiernan."

Bro blinks in a bit of confusion and then deflates, wiping at his face. He looks away. "...I was h-here with my brother but... this guy- he... he said he was called Error he... he took him. He took him and I couldn't stop them even though I was right there-!" His voice gets choked up at the end and he quickly shuts his mouth and shakes his head.

Every single one of the group immediately softens.

"Hey," a woman with long blonde hair says. "We know how you feel. They've taken a lot of people. I lost my brother, too."

"Error is the worst of them," a man with long black hair says. "It's okay. You did everything you could, I'm sure."

"We... we might be able to help," the woman with the accent says. "We know about them. There is this group of people... they are being controlled. And they keep taking people to control more. Maybe--maybe with our knowledge, we could get him back before anything terrible happens."

Bro's stomach drops heavily as they mention the group is being taken to be controlled. He looks immediately pale. "... fucking Alt...! What did you do?" He whispers to himself. He looks back to the group and nods, "...Yeah... p-please I... I could use your help. I don't want my brother to suffer there..."

The woman nods. "We can hurry back to the place we're hiding. Maybe more of the others from your world are there. Once there, we talk about how to get him back, yes? Time is not consistent between our world and that Place. I'm sure we have enough time to plan."

Bro nods again, "O-Okay... I'll follow your lead."

"Okay. I am Trisha, this is Rya, Jennifer, Kiernan, and Oliver."

Bro quickly follows after them. "Um... I'm Chase. ...good to meet you all."

Trisha turns and heads back down the stairs.

"Down here. The leader of this group, the one controlling them, can see through cameras all over the city. We need to be somewhere away from technology."

Bro’s eyes narrow as he hears about the leader. He grits his teeth and snarls. "... Anti. That's what he's called, isn't he? Fucking... taking my brother's name and tainting it...!"

"Don't say his name!" Rya hurriedly says.

Trisha looks back at him apologetically. "He can hear when people say his name. We do not want to draw his attention. But... you are correct."

Bro's eyes widen and he curses, "Motherfucker-! I just... said his name like a bunch of times!"

"Chase, huh?" Oliver says. "Like Stacy's ex."

Bro sighs and nods, "Um... I'm actually dating a girl named Stacy back home but... I bet you're thinking of Chase Brody, huh? ...that's me. Parallel universes and shit..."

"Parallel worlds," Kiernan mutters. "So fucking weird."

The group reaches the bottom of the staircase and heads straight for the tunnel with the warning tape.

Trisha brushes aside the warning tape. "Rya, you take the lead with the lantern." Rya nods and walks past her. "So... do you have a group of friends? Henrik, Jameson, Jackie, Marvin, and Jack?"

Bro nods, "Yeah... Jackie is here somewhere... and technically Marvin but... he's not our friend. He's a mad magician always using me and my friends for power and shit but... um... Henrik and JJ are back home. And Jack too I guess... I dunno, he's more friends with my brother than me."

"Stacy did say that Sam said one of the visitors would be dangerous," Trisha mutters as the group continues down the tunnel. "Well... in that case, we should tell you. In this world, all but the version of you are being controlled by him."

Bro stops in his tracks, his eyes wide. "...R-Really? ... Everyone?" He pales and then tries to keep going. "...how? How did that happen?"

Trisha shakes her head. "I do not know. Chase does not talk about it much, and Henrik thought it safer to not contact me during the time. Well, he decided to come for me anyway, but it was probably smart at the time. But we do know that Jackie--Error--was the first one."

"that's... that's awful.." Bro breathes, shaking his head. "Jackie's always so... bright and optimistic... it's hard to think he's..." He shuts his mouth and curls his hands into fists.

Trisha nods slowly. "I know..." she says quietly. "A lot of us know." She takes a deep breath. "It's some walk there. I hope you are as athletic as you look. Hopefully your other friend is already in our hideout."

Bro chuckles humorously, "Yeah... I can keep up." He looks out at the long expanse and sighs, "Let's hope..."

-----------

Magnificent appears, falling a short distance and landing in some sort of big box. Nope. Not a box. It's a dumpster. There are a few bags of trash in there, but thankfully, nothing loose. The dumpster is out back behind a building, probably a retail business of some kind but it's hard to tell from the back.

Magnificent yelps as he falls but as soon as he realizes where he is he yells in disgust and teleports out. He shakes himself off and dusts off his clothes, shuddering like a cat with wet fur. "F-Fucking Disgusting!"

Soon after he teleports out, he hears something. A scream. It sounds like it comes from nearby.

Magnificent jumps at the sound and then makes a face, almost like he's disgusted. He decides to start walking the opposite way. "Not dealing with that shit-" He mutters, trying to magic the rest of his outfit clean.

As he walks along this small back street between the backs of buildings... he realizes something. He's not alone. There is someone following him. He can hear their footsteps.

Magnificent stiffens slightly as he hears the footsteps- letting them follow for a bit before he suddenly whips around and holds out a magic filled hand at them, his eyes glowing. He fires a shot of magic their way.

The person sidesteps the blast, watching it go past them and hit the dumpster. Then he turns back to look at Magnificent. It's a man, his coloring completely monochrome, wearing a fancy button-up and vest. His eyes are completely white, almost seeming to glow in the dimness. One hand loosely holds a knife that steadily drips blood to the ground. Around his wrists are red strings.

"Well... that's unusual," he says in a rasping voice.

Magnificent narrows his eyes, building up more magic in his hands as he chuckles. “You’re unusual yourself~.”

"I'm unique. I'm not sure you are. You look very familiar." There's a slight buzzing noise. The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, reading something and then typing quickly one-handedly.

“…quite rude to text when speaking to a stranger, don’t you think?” Magnificent asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Seems this is urgent." The man frowns. He puts the phone away. "You're from another world, then. Aren't you? Aren't you... Marvin?"

Magnificent’s eyes flash with rage as his magic burns brighter and taller in his hands. “Don’t call me that. I’m called Magnificent. Nothing else.” Then he chuckles and tilts his head. “Curious… you lot don’t often know we’re from different worlds right away.”

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Of course you are." The man laughs. "Just as arrogant as you are here. Or... were, I guess. As for how I know... someone I trust just told me there are people from another world here. One like me, one like someone else we know. But I don't know if I believed it until you said it just now."

Magnificent narrows his eyes again. “…and just who are you supposed to be, exactly?”

"Anti." The man says, grinning. "This isn't what I normally look like. But he's needed for things like this. I don't think that's important, though. What are you planning on doing while here, 'Magnificent'?"

Magnificent’s eyes widen slightly. He snorts, “Yeah you’re … not what I was expecting.” He hums in thought and then shrugs. “Depends- I could use some magic so a source of that could be nice. Never opposed to new puppets to find either. Guess it depends on what this world has to offer me.” He looks back to Anti curiously. “…or the people in it.”

"Heh. If you're looking for magic, you're out of luck. There are only two magicians in this city, and one of them is mine. I'm sure there's more outside the limits... but I'm afraid you're stuck here." Anti flips the knife, causing a fan of blood. "Ever since I corrupted this one, there's been no way out of the city. We're all caught in a bubble, repeating six or so months over and over. And unfortunately, I don't know how to get rid of it."

Magnificent looks shocked- glancing around as if he can see the bubble they’re trapped in. “Well… that’s not ideal…” he mutters.

"You're telling me," Anti says. Somehow, despite the completely whited-out-eyes, Magnificent can tell he's rolling them. "But if you can find any more power in here, feel free to it. Unless it's from my people. You'll know them when you see them. The eyes always change, and some change more."

“Mmm… noted, I suppose.” Magnificent says with a hum. “What is your goal here, Anti? Besides getting out of this trap, I guess.”

"I like making more people," Anti says. "What did you call them?" He smiles. "Right. Puppets."

Magnificent raises an eyebrow and grins, “Intriguing! Always a pleasure to meet a fellow puppet master~” he giggles.

"I'll take your word for it. I've never met anyone else who doesn't put up a fuss when they realize what I'm doing." Anti tilts his head. "If you're looking for people to puppet, there's a group that's been giving me trouble. There's about fifty of them, and they've somehow been elluding me for a few of these loops now. Maybe you could find them. Feel free to help yourself if you do. But I ask that if you find a man called Chase Brody, you leave him to me."

“Is that so?” Magnificent chuckles. “I have a Chase Brody that’s been a pain in my side… however if you or any of your crew find him… do what you will with him. He’s a headache to control. His brother however- I think you would find every interesting~” he giggles. “He makes the perfect puppet.”

Anti laughs. "I think we've already found your Chase AND his brother, actually. That's what that message earlier was. I'm going to head back home and see if he managed to bring them back." He flips the knife again. Halfway through the motion, it disappears. "And what about you? What will you do now?"

Magnificent looks intrigued and he laughs, “You know what? I’m quite interested to see how your puppets are made Anti- if you would allow me to see. Maybe it can give me some better ideas for my own~!”

“Really? I’ve never heard anyone say that before.” Anti grins. “I’d be delighted to show you.” He turns to the side, slipping into a gap between buildings.

Magnificent shares his grin and follows after him.

There’s some spray paint on the walls in random looking designs. Anti stops in front of a design that looks vaguely like an archway drawn on the brick. He jerks his head towards it, indicating for Magnificent to follow, and walks straight through the wall in that section.

Mag looks confused as Anti goes through the wall but then heads straight through- must be an illusion.

Beyond the illusory wall is a strange area. The floor is sheet metal and the walls are black and featureless, seeming to extend upwards forever, their heights covered by a red glowing fog. Two hallways of similar design branch off into opposite directions.

Magnificent looks impressed as he enters the space and looks around. “Fascinating…” he mumbles to himself, looking around.

The monochrome man stands in the middle of the room. As Magnificent watches, black static lifts off his skin, forming a humanoid figure to the side. The monochrome man collapses to his knees and the red strings disappear from his wrists. The black static figure shifts, gaining details, turning into a man. He looks a lot like the Anti in the previous world. Black hoodie, slit throat, green sclera on his right eye. But this figure is a bit more translucent, a bit better-kempt, and his hoodie has a diamond with the words PMA in it.

“Great, now you can actually see me,” Anti says, flashing a sharp smile.

Mag blinks as he watches the monochrome man split into Anti and he grins. “Much better. Though- the possession is a nice touch. I’m guessing you can’t physically exist outside of here?”

“Correct.” Anti makes a face; it’s clear that this fact bothers him. “The Place is special. Outside it, I can’t be seen or heard and I can’t interact with anything other than electrical devices. So I need to possess someone. I usually use Voice these days.” He gestures at the monochrome man. Voice, apparently. “Now. You wanted to see the corruption? That’s what I use to make them. I do have something else to do, but I can take a moment to show you.”

Magnificent nods and seems intrigued even more. “How interesting…” He looks at Voice and then waves his hand at Anti, “Ah- please don’t let me get in your way! Do wherever it is you need to do, I’m sure I have time.” He giggles.

Anti nods. “Alright. It will only take a moment. If you want to wander around in the meantime, the Place will always take you where you need to be. If you find hallways with cables all over, that’s where the corruption process happens.” He grabs Voice by the arm and pulls him up, taking him down the right hallway. “See you soon,” he giggles, and disappears.

Magnificent nods with a grin. “See you soon.” He then hums and looks around the place. Well- guess he’ll see where it thinks he needs to go. He starts to wander.

#SATCV #SATCV Bad End #Bad end au #alt anti #swap magnificent #bro fantastic #jackie mann #ahhh i love creating brotherly drama :)#bro is gonna be so mad at alt and alts gonna be so mad at himself habkjn #im so excited for this one ehehhe

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