Content: concussion, smartass reader, reader is a resident but off shift, reader's friend has a broken arm, Parker Ellis is our other bestie, Lupe and Lena mentioned
Note: Loosely based on the song Does Your Mother Know by ABBA.
You knew being a resident, in the ED, at the same hospital that your mother, who's a big time surgeon, works at would be difficult. You didn't know it was going to be difficult thanks to your hot older attending though. You're 24 but everyone treats you like you're 16.
You've heard many people refer to you as a baby genius or even just as a baby. Jack has even acted like he needs to be your babysitter instead of your attending and that's just rude because you think he's a phenomenal doctor and teacher (and sexy but you can't get caught up on that).
It's about time your coworkers see you as someone other than your mother's daughter. You just wish it hadn't been when you brought your best friend in for a broken arm and you with a potential concussion.
It was finally your night off and you'd gone out clubbing with your friends. A fight broke out between your friend and a drunk guy and you tried to break it up only to have both you and your friend shoved to the ground. You hit your head hard on the concrete floor and heard your friend's arm smack the floor next to your ear. Neither fall sounded good, so now you're both sitting in the waiting room at PTMC.
Once Lupe realized who she was looking at sitting in the chairs she pointed at you and made the come here motion with her hand. Your friend got up and followed you up to the window. Lupe rolled her eyes and pressed the button allowing you both into the back but told you to wait by her chair.
“What're you doing here kid?”
“I'm pretty sure I'm going to be on concussion protocol and my friend's arm is likely broken.”
“And how did we end up like this?”
“A drunk dude at a club shoved us to the ground after she refused a drink and told him she wasn't interested in dancing with him. I broke up their impending fight.”
“Always gotta be the hero. Jack's gonna come get you in a second.”
“Lena couldn't come get us? Or Mateo so we'd stay in triage? Hell I'd love Parker to come get us since she's my cool and relaxed resident bestie. Why must you send Jack?”
“For that exact reaction. You knew he'd be worried about you if he found out from someone else that you're here.”
You groaned and your friend just laughed into your back because she knows you're deeply infatuated with Dr Abbot.
“I hate when you're right Lupe. But he treats me like I'm 16. I'm 24 damnit.”
“You're 24? Since when?”
“I turn 25 in a month, Lupe. You have my information on the computer.”
“Yes you're right. I'm sorry. And for what it's worth it's nice to see you breaking out of the shadow of your mom.”
“I appreciate that.”
Then Jack comes to the triage door and takes one look at you and his jaw drops. You kind of hope his jaw dropped because you're in this black sparkly tube top and a pair of black ripped jeans. So you know how hot you look.
“Lupe, are you sure this is my resident?”
“Fuck you Abbot.”
“Nevermind it absolutely is. Get back here kid and bring your friend with you.”
“Can't you just go get Parker? I don't want to deal with you?”
“Does your mother know you're out tonight?”
“I haven't lived with that woman in like 7 years. I'm almost 25 Jack.”
“No, no, you're like 18 at most.”
“I've had enough of you, I'll go find Ellis myself. Come on babes follow me.”
You and your friend walked further into the ED and left Jack to have to catch up to you. You found Ellis at the central hub talking to Lena. They stopped talking as soon as you and your friend walked up.
“Holy shit, what the hell happened to you? Also damn can I borrow that top?”
“You can have it Park. Now can you check on my friend here? I'm almost positive her arm is broken. And don't worry about me, I'm fine.”
“Ellis don't listen to her. Our baby resident probably has a concussion according to Lupe.”
“Jack I thought I told you to fuck off.”
“Check on her friend's arm though. She's going to be my problem.”
“I'm not getting seen by you. Also my friend has a name, it's Tess. Please leave me alone Jack.”
“Lena, what's open?”
“12 and 19.”
“I'll take 12. Parker, can you take Tess to 19?”
“You got it boss. Also babygirl let him see to your head.”
“I'm rescinding my offer to give you my shirt, Parker.”
“It's worth it. Now go with Jack to 12.”
“But he treats me like I'm 12.”
“Go!”
“Fine. Are we still having drinks after your shift, Park?”
“If you have a concussion absolutely not, but you can still come over and nap with me.”
“This is why I love you. Treat my babes Tess good and Parker she's a lesbian just fyi.”
“Quit meddling in my love life babes! Or I'm gonna meddle in yours.”
“Sorry Tess but Parker's also a lesbian and she's single.”
“That's enough out of you. Come on Tess, 19 is just this way.”
Parker and Tess walk away from you. You're still keeping your back to Jack. Lena's just watching all of this go down with the hugest grin on her face.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“Enough to know that you're annoying.”
“Are you always this mouthy?”
“Only every day that ends in y.”
“How come I've never seen it?”
“Cause you treat me like I'm a child when I'm an adult.”
“I'm not sure I'm into this song and dance kid but I'll go along with it. Now come on, you know the way to 12.”
You walk over to the exam room that's been assigned as yours and close the door in Jack's face before he can walk in behind you. He gives you a dirty look and you just smirk at him holding the door tightly so he can't open it.
“Open the door. I know you think it's funny and you're teasing me, but open the fucking door.”
“Can't hear you. Speak up old man.”
“You need to cool it.”
You stick your tongue out at Jack and let go of the door. He opens the door and walks in.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You want me to be a kid so bad, I'm giving you the attitude I had when I was a teenager.”
“You think you're so hot. I can see exactly what you're doing. Your face gives away all of your emotions. And you're lucky I find it cute.”
The cheeky smile you were giving Jack falls off your face. What does he mean he can tell what you're doing? Your wild feelings for him aren't meant for his eyes right now. And is he flirting with you?!”
“Jack?”
“Yes babygirl?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“That way you were flashing that smile at me, it was like I was your prey. Plus your eyes are always on me even when you think I'm not paying attention.”
“Oh um. Okay yep I gotta go. I'll just put myself on concussion protocol and see if Robby will take me on days.”
“You don't need to run away. Sure you should probably slow down a little bit, but I don't mind. I know your mother might though so I'm not sure I can take a chance on you.”
“We're not talking about her. I'm my own person. I hate that everyone just associates me with being her child when her and I have never been close. So no my mother doesn't know I'm out tonight, no she doesn't know that I dress this way when I'm not at work, and most importantly she doesn't know that I love flirting with older men.”
“So that's what you've been doing?”
“Isn't that just what you alluded to?”
“Yes but I didn't think you'd admit it.”
“For fucks sake Jack, you're confusing me.”
“I'm sorry. Will you please let me check if you have a concussion and I want to make sure there's no bumps or bleeding on your scalp.”
“Yeah you can check if I have a concussion. Then I'm going home and getting out of these ridiculous clothes and pretending I don't exist anymore.”
“They're not ridiculous. The jeans look like something you'd wear but the shirt maybe less likely.”
“That's why I offered it to Parker in the first place.”
“Also don't pretend you don't exist. I happen to like having you around.”
“Yeah you sure have a funny way of showing it.”
“What's that mean?”
“While you're a phenomenal teacher and so fucking attractive, you act like you're my babysitter. You're always looking over my shoulder, you constantly call me kid or other nicknames for a child, you have a look that you wear around me that screams I'd rather be anywhere else than with you.”
“We'll touch on that attractive comment in a second. I'm sorry you think I've been treating you like a child. I know you're not, but you're so young with a good head on your shoulders, I don't want to mess you up. Also that's just my resting bitch face and yes I know how that sounds but it's true. I can't show favoritism but if I could, you'd be at the top of my list. And I've seen you smile when I call you kid and I like calling you kid because you'll call me an old man in return. It's just something we do. I'll quit calling you the other childish nicknames but please don't take that one from me. And now back to the attractive comment…you could have literally anyone you wanted sweetheart, but I'm not good for you.”
“I think it's up to me to decide who's good for me or not and I think you're good for me. If you're really turned off by the idea of me then that's fine I'll switch to days and you can be rid of me. If you're nervous because of my mom working here, don't be because I want nothing to do with her and she has no say in my life's decisions. Did I tell you she wanted me to do surgery like her? But I'm kinda partial to emergency medicine and if not emergency med I'd go into pedes instead…never surgery. You caught me. I do like when you call me kid because yes I get to call you an old man in return. But fuck you're one silver fox. Also me favorite?”
“Yes you're my favorite, just don't tell Ellis that or Shen. I'm a widower and missing a leg so it's more my brain trying to grasp the idea of someone so pure and innocent wanting anything to do with me. Fuck your mom for trying to decide what you should do. I'd love to keep you in emergency medicine but I can see you working pedes. And silver fox huh?”
“Oh come on, let me hold it over Park's head. And I know you are Jack and those aren't qualities that deter me. You're you. You're rugged and handsome. You're strong and intelligent. I could honestly wax poems about you. Also yes exactly fuck her for thinking she can control me. I'd like to stay in emergency medicine here at PTMC.”
“Okay okay. You don't need to stroke my ego. If your friend Tess can find her way home, I think I'll take you home with me to monitor you and you're absolutely staying here to work in the ED if I can have any say in the matter.”
“Oh to monitor me huh? You haven't even given me the concussion test yet. But I'd like that as long as you let me borrow your clothes. Also if Tess is lucky she's gonna go home with Parker.”
“You're such a little shit. Yes you can wear my clothes and it's better to be safe even if I conclude you don't have a concussion.”
“Of course of course.”
“Do you want a CT?”
“Fuck no, just give me the concussion test and let me go chill with Lena until you get off work.”
“You got it gorgeous. And thank you for voicing your concerns with me and for being you.”
“There's nobody else I can be and you're welcome. Now come on old man before the sun comes out.”
Jack rolls his eyes but can't help but smirk at you. Then he proceeds to give you the concussion test. It annoys you but your head is starting to ache and you know it's protocol for him to be thorough with his questioning. You got lucky in the fact that he didn't pull the light out because you probably would've thrown up but you're sensitive to super bright lights normally. He does feel the back of your head and you want to pull away because it hurts but you sit still and wince.
“Alright gorgeous, it looks like you've got a mild concussion and you're gonna have one hell of a goose egg on your head. However there's no open wounds which is a good thing. If you would've cracked your head open from falling thanks to that drunk asshole, I'd probably have to be restrained and kept here because I would go to that club, track the dude down, and give him a black eye at minimum.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious Jack and awe you'd have done all that for me? I can't afford to have you get arrested on my behalf though so it's a good thing my skull is in one piece.”
“I'm blaming your concussion on this terrible line of joking you're doing.”
“Whatever helps you sleep in the morning handsome.”
“Go sit by Lena and check on your friend Tess. I have patients to see.”
“Awe have I finally annoyed you? Mission successful.”
“Hush and you're lucky you're so cute.”
“Not as cute as you though And don't check out my ass as I walk away.”
“Oh I'm going to now that you said that.”
“Good! Now call Shen in to cover the rest of your shift. I wanna go home with you and cuddle and change out of these jeans.”
“Go be a good girl and sit by Lena and I'll see what I can do. Don't fall asleep!”
“You got it old man!”
You blow Jack a kiss and then turn and walk out of exam room 12. You made sure to walk in a way that made your ass look good. You know you succeeded when you heard Jack whistle under his breath.
When you got back to the central hub you noticed Tess hanging off Parker with her left arm in a purple cast. You rolled your eyes but were happy that your friends are clearly happy. Then you sit down in a chair next to Lena and lay your head against her shoulder.
“So purple cast huh Tess?”
“Shut it!”
“Gonn go home with Parker?”
“You going home with Abbot?”
“No comment.”
“That's what I thought. And concussion protocol or no?”
“Concussion protocol.”
“Fuck babes I'm sorry. I love you though and thanks for getting between me and that douchebag.”
“Always honey. I'd do anything for you. I love you too. So Parker got you all set then?”
“Don't act so smug.”
“What? I'm happy you're happy and if I happened to open my big mouth and help the cause well then I'm extra happy.”
“So how's Dr Abbot babes?”
“mmm silver fox.”
“He's got his hands full with you.”
“Yeah in more ways than one.”
“My mini shadow resident, what would your mother say if she heard you talk like that?”
“I don't care. I'm a big girl and finally getting everything I've ever wanted. The threat of her can't dull my high.”
“Good, you deserve it.”
“Thanks Parker. You and Tess deserve good things too. Also if you hurt her, I'll hurt you. And Tess the same can be said for you, if you hurt my Parker I'll hurt you.”
“You're so scary.”
“I know! I'm a big dog!”
“And that's my cue to take you home kid.”
You didn't even notice Jack approaching the central hub. You smile at him and get off your chair. You lean on Jack and he wraps his arm around you.
“Tess is going home with Parker so I'm all yours Jack.”
“Shen's coming in to cover the rest of my shift and I’m not about to let you out of my sight.”
“Sounds hot.”
“Shhhh kid.”
“Okay old man. I'm tired and my head hurts.”
“I know it does sweetheart.”
“Gimme kiss.”
Jack kisses the top of your head. You pout at him because that's not what you meant. He whispers later into your ear and that makes you stop pouting because he's just trying to save both of your necks at work. You'll get your kisses later and that makes you smile.
“Okay goodnight everyone. I'm going to go take a nap now.”
“Don't worry, I'll be watching her. Now head out to my truck and wait for me, kid. I'll be right behind you.”
“Yes sir Abbot.”
Your head out to Jack’s truck and are thankful he's going to take care of you. You're also thankful that he sees you for the adult that you are and not as a child, specifically your mother's child. You wish you didn't have a concussion but you're glad for the outcome. You bagged your silver fox and your mother doesn't know a thing.
The Sniffy Shift (from hell.) AKA Whitaker and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
Fandom: t/he p/itt.
Collab with the amazing @silentsneezes, bc we have been cooking fics up for these guys.
Word count: 2.8k.
Part: 1/4.
Enjoy <3
7.00am.
“Hey,” Dr. Robby taps against the surface of the nurse’s station, grasping Dana’s attention whilst she was jotting things down already. “Did Whitaker call out sick again today?” He already knew the answer, really, but he had to ask. Maybe the kid had some sense, all of a sudden, and forgot about his constant need to prove himself and work through any and all sorts of ailments.
The blonde woman sighs, shaking her head. She drops the pen she was holding and gestures over to the break room, “no, not yet. Last I saw he was walking out of there. I’m going to keep my eye on him today.”
“You and me both, Dana.” He exhales again, heavily, running a hand through his hair. If there was enough time, he’d try to find Whitaker before the chaos got too much — yet, working where they worked? That was unlikely to happen, especially if Whitaker was trying to be sneaky and avoidant.
•
Dennis had barely stepped through the automatic doors, hadn’t even had time to get to his locker, when somebody confronted him with an overly-cheery smile for how early it was, and carrying a rather oversized bouquet of lilies. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Do you work here, dear?” The woman asks, and of course he can’t just walk away and ignore her, that would be awfully rude and he wasn’t that sort of person.
“Uh, I do, yes. Ma’am.” He quickly adds the last part, once again trying to seem as polite as possible, despite feeling like shit.
Before either one could speak again, the flowers are handed to him, and the woman in question seemingly decides that this is an excellent time to go on a short (although, it felt much longer) monologue on why she was gifting the flowers to the department. He wasn’t even working the day that her sister was treated, or… was it her mother? Either way, despite his best efforts to listen, there was already an ever looming prickling at the back of his sinuses and in the corners of his eyes.
“Uhhhh…” Whitaker peers at her from behind the lilies, already blinking away allergic tears. “You’re very welcome M-hhh-Ma’am.”
Now, he had two choices: stay and chat, potentially be told off for loitering in the process, and have the sneeze fit that was most definitely incoming. Or, he could quickly and as politely as possible leave the woman behind, make a beeline for the break room and drop off the flowers there, hope and pray nobody was inside, have his sneeze fit in private and then get to work. Whitaker opts for the latter.
“Evil incarnate flower,” he mutters, haphazardly resting them in a half-filled coffee mug sat in the sink, not really thinking about the fact that plants do not like coffee. ‘’IiitSHhH!’ And, so it begins. ‘tshiew! ishhh! ishh’shhh’itShHhiew!’ Each itchy, little sneeze hurts his throat — uncomfortably sore from coughing practically non-stop the past two days he’d taken sick — just about caught by his elbow in time. Dennis exhales slowly afterwards, leaning against the countertop for support. He needs to get out of the room of those damn flowers, splash his face with some water and shove his things into a locker ASAP.
Pink around the edges, his eyes dart around the room until they fall on an open tissue box; an underappreciated benefit of working in a medical setting is the constant supply of tissues — the nice kind, unlike the dollar store brand he’s grown used to. He’ll certainly need them. The cold he’s been nursing for the past few days has left his nose in a constant limbo of runniness and stuffiness, both working to give his voice an edge of congestion. Crossing the room in a few quick, nervous strides, he shoves a handful of tissues unceremoniously into his pocket, glancing around as if he could be caught any second.
Once his pocket is stocked and slightly bulging from the tissues, Dennis takes a second to mentally catalogue his symptoms: irritation of the eyes, nose, and throat; no visible rash; no significant difficulties breathing or tightness of the chest — ‘yet’ he adds with a grimace.
After shooting the flowers one last look of disdain, he slips out of the break room and sets off for the locker room. He can practically feel the sticky sweetness of pollen following him across the pitt, clinging to his face and forcing a few stuffy, useless sniffles. By some miracle, he makes it to his locker without interruption. It’s a seemingly slow morning in the pitt, which means one of two things: he’ll either have a tolerably exhausting day, end his shift at the scheduled time, and retreat home to sleep off the rest of his cold. Or they’ll get slammed at the least convenient time, he’ll work himself into the ground for who knows how long, and then pray he can catch a ride with Trinity to the apartment before he finds himself sleeping on the softest patch of flooring the ED has to offer.
Dennis vaguely registers the presence of his fellow med students filtering into the locker room around him, but his focus is primarily devoted to a prickling sensation that’s teasing through his sinuses; it ebbs and flows with every breath, threatening to turn into something more with each shaky inhale. He ducks behind the locker door, hiding behind the metal and pretending to be busy riffling through the contents of his locker. It’s a lame excuse and he knows it; there’s nothing in his locker aside from a clean towel that he uses to trick the scrub dispenser and a few granola bars from who knows when.
“Hey,” it was Trinity, and her voice is actually… soft, for once? She barely startles him, so the change in tone was clearly on purpose. “You sure you’re good for this shift?” She pokes him in the arm, earning a small squeak of disdain in return.
“Right as rain,” Dennis mutters, still pushing the objects in his locker around for a moment’s distraction. There’s an imminent sneeze toying with him, and he prefers it when fewer people witness what she calls his ‘kitten sneezes.’ Really, she isn’t wrong, but he doesn’t feel the need to ever admit that out loud; she’d never let him live that down.
Thankfully, Trinity backs off, tending to whatever it is she needs to do before they start their shift and so he has just a few seconds to stifle against his wrist whilst still hiding out in the safety of the locker. ‘Hh’nNggT, ‘tMmpT, tshh—‘ishhiew!’ The last two sneak up on him slightly, yet neither really assist the itch much further. Dennis sniffles, sighing. Before heading back out into the main room he’s quick to swipe at his nose with a tissue, and sanitize his hands.
Yet, the second he’s back out amongst it all, he spots Dr. Robby across the floor. They lock eyes for a split second, and he’s immediately looking for an excuse to escape whatever incoming lecture is waiting for him. Dennis ducks behind the nurse’s station, grabbing a chart and taking a quick peruse — he can easily handle a nosebleed, surely nothing can go wrong there? Despite not knowing who had put the file down, he double checks the room number and makes a hurried walk towards the room in question.
“Hi, Miss… Trowler, so, your nose has been bleeding since the middle of last night, huh?” The woman isn’t that much older than him, and she nods, holding multiple tissues to her nose. He knew that feeling. “It says here you haven’t experienced any physical trauma in the past forty-eight hours?”
She shakes her head this time.
“Alright. Well, has this ever happened before?” He waits, sitting down beside the bed, and watches her nod. Alright, well, that’s better than it being something new and terrifying, at least. “We may have to cauterize, have you had that procedure done before?”
Another little nod. Great! Surely nothing can go wrong now. He prepares the equipment needed, making what he hopes to be the right amount of comforting conversation whilst doing so, and talks her through the steps despite the fact she’s experienced it before. It goes without a mishap, and Dennis practically audibly sighs from relief, before stopping himself. Because that’s unnerving. Don’t do that.
“Feeling better?” Dennis hands her a wet cloth to clean her face with, disposing of the bloodied tissues from before.
“Thank you, much. I guess I just have a lot of allergies, and this just… happens sometimes.” She leans back on the bed, momentarily shutting her eyes.
“Oh, I know that feeling. Sometimes I think everything is out to get me — pollen, hay… animals. Can you believe I grew up on a farm?” He chuckles softly, removing his gloves. “You’re good to go now, Miss. If it happens again and you can’t get the bleeding to stop, come right back to us, okay?”
Dennis lingers for a moment, unsure if now’s an appropriate time to leave. His words sit awkwardly in the sterile air when the patient doesn’t reply, and he purses his lips, teeth sinking into his cheek before he steps out. For the most part, he’s grown out of his nervous tendencies when it comes to patient care, but occasionally moments like this catch him off guard. The social blunders are small enough to be insignificant, he knows that, but it doesn’t make it less embarrassing.
He reorients himself as he steps out towards the nursing station, giving the room a quick once-over to ensure that he won’t run into his attending. The coast is seemingly clear, so he pads over to Dana’s desk, exchanging the chart for the one of the tablets that are shared amongst med students. Preoccupied with the task of finding a new case, he fails to notice the neatly fashioned bouquet sitting just five feet to his right.
Free from their previous makeshift coffee mug vase, the lilies sit in a large mason jar, much happier with a steady supply of water than the day-old caffeinated bean juice Dennis had shoved them into. The surface surrounding them is littered in tiny yellow specks, spread in a thin dusting that brushes over the desktop, clinging to whoever’s fingertips fall nearby. Fingertips that have been holding the very same tablet Dennis is using.
Usually, he would probably have noticed something like that, but today he’s tired and trying not to stick out; just keep his head down. And, well, maybe it was silly of him to stop paying extra attention to his surroundings in that moment because he reaches to scratch an itch on his nose and only then does he wonder… huh, what’s that on my fingers?
Dana’s been too caught up helping Donnie handle an aggravated patient to notice the flowers, otherwise they would’ve been discarded in an instant. She’s seen enough reactions from Whitaker to know not to leave any non-plastic plant in the vicinity.
“Oh, shit—“ Dennis practically drops the tablet as if it were burning him, which in turn draws attention toward him from both Dana and a few other nurses, and then he grabs the nearest bottle of sanitiser and coats his hands in his. But, it isn’t going to be enough, he knows that. The itch is growing already and he feels an overwhelming amount of eyes on him, whether it’s actually happening or not, and so the only thing he can think to do is rush back in the direction of the patient’s room and hope that she's gone.
Thank whatever deity is on his side today, because she is, and he can fold forwards into his elbow without anybody staring. ‘Hhh’ttshh’ew! ii’ttZzshh! ‘tshhh’isHhh’tSzzsHi’uh! Ughhh.’ He groans, the rapid triple causing him to stumble slightly. Sneezing himself dizzy is unfortunately not a rare occurrence, but it never gets any easier or less frustrating, especially when he’s already spent the last few days doubled over in his elbow.
“Knock knock,” Dana’s voice is a sudden distraction, and he sniffles sharply, turning on his heels just as she enters. “So, the flowers are gone forever now. Apologies to whatever sweet, well-meaning person brought them to us.” She steps towards, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Whitaker, what’re you doing back, huh?” The gentle squeeze she gives him is comforting, but he keeps the eye contact to a bare minimum, staring mostly at his own shoes instead.
“This isn’t — I’m not —“ he tries, blinking a few times, allergic tears escaping down rosy cheeks before he can wipe them away. “It’s the flowers. I’m feeling better.”
“You sure?” She bends down slightly, trying to catch his eye. “You can take five, go take some allergy pills. I’ll grab some for you if you forgot your own.”
Dennis nods, swiping a hand underneath his eyes to try and dry them, resisting the overwhelming urge to rub them. “Yeah, I’ll… I should do that. Thank you. But, I’m fine, really.” He moves quick, not wanting to linger and have any more questions asked, hurrying to his locker to check his bag for the blister pack of anti-histamines he usually carries. He swallows one dry, grimacing slightly and bringing another tissue from his handy pocket supply up toward his (very quickly pinkening) nose; all before going straight back out there to search for his next patient of the day.
In hindsight, he should’ve taken a few more minutes to let his body adjust to the meds, but if he’s learned anything working in the pitt, it’s that time is incredibly valuable. Maybe if he had taken those few minutes to tend to himself, a patient’s condition would’ve worsened. Right, that’s a much better excuse than abject self-neglect. He’ll stick with that.
Since he’d last stood beneath the massive screen over the nurses station, the number of patients had doubled in their typical morning intake. Skimming the list, he considers a few options — easier patients for now, although he’s sure he’ll end up with something more difficult down the line.
“You’re not cherrypicking cases, right Huckleberry?”
Dennis nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Trinity’s voice from mere inches away from his neck. “Jesus!!”
Apparently whatever sympathetic niceties she’d offered him this morning had expired within the first hour of their shift, now replaced with her typical sarcasm and cynicism. She squints up at the board, lips curving into a smirk. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you.” Reaching for the (now clean) tablet, she pulls up a patient’s chart. “South 16. Leaking pustule abscess on the buttocks. Good luck, Whittie."
Before Dennis can so much as open his mouth to protest — or gag at the prospect of draining whatever it is this patient has brewing — Santos blows him a kiss and disappears back into the ever-moving pitt. Unamused, he looks down at the screen and resigns himself to his fate. Wrong choice.
He can’t tell what’s worse, the lingering irritation in his sinuses and eyes as he waits for his meds to kick in or the fact that he’s going to be spending the next twenty minutes in very close proximity with an older man’s leaking abscess. The only upside is that the whole ordeal gives him plenty of time to develop a calculated plan in order to get back at Trinity. Roommate solidarity his ass.
He manages to make it halfway through the procedure before his constant blinking results in dewy, wet lashes that cling to one another, only worsening the burning in his eyes. Ducking his head down, he nudges his shoulder into his eye awkwardly, grateful that the patient is facing away from him and therefore can’t witness his absolutely idiotic attempt to wipe his eye while keeping his hands sterile. Unfortunately, it does abso-fucking-lutely nothing aside from encouraging the sensation to prickle from his eyes to his sinuses.
“Alright, I’m going to go ahead and numb the area — you’ll feel a sharp poke, and some burning. You ready?” Dennis decides the best way to go is to just get stuck in, literally and figuratively.
And, he was pretty proud of himself for making it all the way through the procedure without any mishaps — patient related, or sinus related for himself. “That wasn’t so bad!” The man on the bed exclaims, exhaling with relief. Dennis chuckles slightly.
“Yeah, not so bad at all, huh? A nurse will be with you in a moment to let you know what happens next, okay?” He disposes of his gloves, sanitising his hands and opting to mouth-breathe for a little while to avoid the strong scent messing with him.
The following is erotic fanfiction written for my dear friend @actuallyadroid featuring their orignal character Ragna the Devourer. Please go visit her blog if you wish to see Ragna. 9k words
Dictatious Maximus Galadrigal was a lucky troll. Well, in truth he was as lucky as a troll could be in a place like the darklands. The water here was poisoned and needed to be boiled, the only consistent source of food were nyarlagroth eggs and, when things became desperate, other trolls, and the only heartstone in the area was rotting and dying as a result of birthing Gunmar. It was no place for any decent troll to be. It was a good thing then that Dictactious was no longer a decent troll and had not been one for the past 900 years. He was the commander of the goblins, the very same creatures that dragged him here. He was also an advisor to Gunmar, a voice of wisdom and strategy for the underlord, the memory of his vast library and his once constantly stimulated mind a boon to what was left of the gumm-gumm cause. It was because of him that they had not descended into chaos out of desperation. Best of all, however, he had the heart of the Underlady in his four stubby hands.
The Underlady, Ragna the Devourer, mate to Gunmar the Black, and mother of Bular the Vicious, was a fearsome troll. She came up to Gunmar's shoulders in height, with the musculature to match. Her hide was a deep purple and scarred from all manner of battles. She also had one on her face from where her own kin had marked her as a warrior, claws raked across her lips when she had come of age. Her mane was white and wild, reaching down to her lower back and impossibly voluminous. She was also the most beautiful creature that Dictatious had ever laid his six eyes upon.
While Dictatious was not one to get between a happy couple, he had to admit that he was enthralled by her when he first saw her. When she approached him for their first tryst, calling him a precious little thing and just the kind of troll she needed in a place like this, he could not resist her. And with Gunmar so very busy, he gave her the blessing to let her eyes and hands wander. Dictatious' thoughts were on her now as he patrolled the darklands for any sign of news from the surface. Anything that could help the Underlord press his advantage needed to be used immediately in such a barren place. Even if it was in a dank little cave where no other trolls would fit, like the one he explored now. Dictatious was digging into the rock with a chisel for what he believed may be some sort of metal ore, when all of a sudden, a solid mass smacked against his nose, “Ack! Who dares?”
The one who dared was, in fact, a particularly large goblin, hanging from the low ceiling of the cave he was searching. It cackled at his misfortune and shook the thing in his face. To which Dictatious said, “Give me that!” And snatched the thing away.
Dictatious blinked all six of his eyes in confusion. “A book?” Where had the goblin found a book? Had it been thrown away? But then, that didn't make much sense. As he examined it, he found that it was in decent shape, especially for a paperback. Its spine was cracked and its pages dog eared, but upon a sniff, it didn't smell like it had any sort of water damage or food spilled on it. He also found a few highlighted and underlined portions when he flipped through it but nothing that harmed the book. Dictatious asked the goblin, “Did you steal this?”
The goblin laughed and nodded, pantomiming that he had taken it from a sleeping human's bedside. From the way the goblin mimed the human, it seemed to be an old one. Once Dictatious received that perfectly reasonable explanation, he went to take a good look at the front. He always found the saying that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover to be a stupid one, honestly. What else was a book cover there for? Yes, some were misleading, but that just meant it was not a good book cover and that the printers should demand their coin back. And this one was definitely a promising one. Whoever had painted it clearly had a passion for this sort of thing, placing their heart and soul into this book cover.
The colors of the piece were lush in the way that only an oil painting could be. Soft and dreamy in its texture, it was the sort of thing that could easily hang as art. The background was an orange sunset upon a foamy, wave filled ocean. The foreground was a ship, up on the rigging, the sails billowing in a way that evoked the wind of the open ocean. Unfortunately, the subjects were human. However, they were rendered expertly.
The male holding the female with one arm had hair down past his shoulders, tight breeches with cord fastenings, and the most useless shirt Dictatious had ever seen, the human’s entire waxed, broad, and muscular chest out for anyone to see. He wore a rich red coat that, perhaps, would keep him from the cold if he ever closed it instead of simply hanging it off her shoulders. He had an expression that Dictatious could only describe as both adoring and stoic. This was clearly not a real human, he was a product of the painter’s fantasies, and yet not a single bit of him looked awkward or wrong.
The female was drawn in a similar quality. She too had long hair, down past her back that flowed in the wind, her white dress, while not quite as useless as the male's shirt, looked unsuited to a ship, all flowing and hanging down past her ankles and showing off her cleavage. She was limp in the male's grasp, swooning. Though she lacked any sort of muscular physique or even very much fat at all, she was just as buxom as her male counterpart, and though she was, indeed, swooning, she looked to be at peace, as if the male's arm was the world's most comfortable nest and not a highly precarious perch. Were she an actual human, her proportions may have looked odd to him, but in this fantasy, she looked correct in every way.
Dictatious felt the goblin perch itself on his shoulder, and he scratched its chin, telling it, “Good work, Fragwa.” It wasn't a strategic find by any means, but it was an interesting one. Thus, he tucked his new book away in his pack and continued his daily search, maybe the ore he was trying to get at could help bolster their weaponry or reinforce their armor.
The ore he had found had not been an ore at all, as it turned out, just a shiny rock, similar to mica on the surface, worth idle investigation but useless in the immediate situation. The goblins going in and out of the fetches did not yield very much useful refuse from the surface world either. In fact, all the vermin had brought were human candies, dug out from the trash in great heaps, meaning it was past All Hallows’ Eve. The candy was food, yes, but hardly fit for Gumm-Gumms. The dark lady herself didn't even like sweets, they made her cough and gag; she would take it as an insult if offered to her. Dictatious thus unceremoniously threw a few pieces into his mouth when he arrived at his room in the fortress. His room wasn't impressive and would have been considered unacceptable on the surface. There were plans strewn all about and books scattered here in there or stacked in the corners. These books mostly contained insights on the surface world and knowledge about the dangers here below. They were mostly ones that the goblins managed to steal, so it was slim picking in the first place. In the middle of the room was a nest made of old, delicate furs and scavenged, musty cloth. Despite everything, it was better than roughing it out in the middle of the darklands. He thus settled into his nest and pulled his book out from his pack, expecting to do some light reading while enjoying his discarded sweets.
What he read, however, was not some lush tale of love and adventure that would flood his senses with the smell of the sea and the feeling of warm arms to give him a good distraction. Yes, the prose was quite purple, but it wasn't interesting. It was actually quite boring, going on for dozens of pages about nothing at all. And that was saying something for a troll as verbose as Dictatious Maximus Galadrigal. Why spend a whole chapter about the suitability of a ship cabin that the Countess would inhabit for only a week, if that? Luckily, he was a fast reader.
Despite the author's insistence on using ten words where three would suffice and the myriad of tangents, it was a painfully average tale. The pirate king (how does one even choose a pirate king?) had captured a countess (named Ducchess) off of her father's ship on her way to a wedding to some foreign lord and the pirate sought to hold her hostage until both the affianced and the father paid ransom, keeping his lecherous crew away from her and fighting off his own lust (as if he hadn't likely been in this very situation before as an infamous pirate captain). The man didn't even last a week with this woman (who the narrator kept insisting had large and high quality breasts) in his suitably luxurious cabin before he broke down.
And when he did, oh when he did, Dictatious eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Not at the sex itself, not even the fact that it was some sort of ravishment fantasy. No, those types of tales were a dime a dozen for time immemorial. It was the way it was written that caught his attention. It was absolutely ludicrous. The smut wasn't even particularly shocking in its content and yet he had never read anything like it. Nevertheless, he immediately stood up and ran out of his room, book gripped in his hand.
He ran straight to the Underlord's chambers, running in and immediately kneeling before the nest. The room was much larger than his own, with an actual planning table made of stone and various trophies, mostly nyalargroth heads, and a grand nest made of all sorts of pelts, though they were only marginally better than his own. The Underlord was not there, busy training against their many grunts in preparation for their escape to the surface as he ever was. Instead, the Underlady was in repose, reading her own book. Honestly, Dictatious had been surprised to learn she was a reader, and yet she did, eagerly. nly It was one of the things they bonded over before consummating their affections for each other. She even read human texts occasionally, such as the one in her hand now. How she had an Ancient Greek copy of Odyssey down here, he had never asked and could never figure out. But for him, she would put it down. Ragna sat up and regarded him, “Dictatious, my dearest advisor, what brings you here? Has the Underlord decided to continue his work for the rest of the day?“
“No, my lady, or, well, to be more accurate, told me no such thing. However, I have come to entertain you.” He held up a book and said, “Behold!”
Ragna squinted and asked, “A human book?”
“Not just any book, my lady! A so-called human romance novel of the utmost filth and depravity!”
She asked, “Aren't they all,” with a chuckle in her voice.
“But of course, my lady, but listen.” He flipped the page over to where the not-a-ravishment started and settled next to his Underlady, feeling her strong arm around him as he read out loud, “The Dread Pirate Roberts looked upon Countess Duchess with a hunger that even the finest meal of seabass and peach tarts could not satiate. With a lust only spoken of in the most terrifying tales of pirates who come to shore to ravish unsuspecting maidens. Ducchess' full breasts heaved from her quick breaths. Her soft, plump lips parted like the petals of a dewy and dusky rose as she spoke, “What are you going to do to me, Pirate King?”“
Ragna hummed as Dictatious came to the end of that passage, “Certainly not of the highest quality, flowery in an unpleasant way, but I know that the humans have written worse.“
“I know, my lady, but it gets better.”
“Or worse?” She licked his cheek.
“Both.” Dictatious then continued with the passage. “Dread Pirate Roberts told her, “I am going to steal away that which you can never replace, Countess. For I cannot resist you any longer. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and to give you to Count Foppington without having tasted you would be like selling away the greatest treasure I own without even opening the chest in which it was hidden. I want nothing more than to break your lock with my pick. No, unlock it with my key.” He captured Duchess' lips in a searing kiss, their tongues battling for dominance like two eels as she whimpered before he ripped open her bodice with his bare hands, his muscles rippling from the effort and eliciting a gasp of both relief and pleasure from the countess, her full and soft breasts bouncing as they were freed. He then groped her now free, full, magnificent breasts, sucked upon her pert nipples before deeming her ready for him, freeing his mighty mast from his breeches.”
“His WHAT?" Ragna began to laugh, “His MAST? Is that what humans call cocks now? And why does this book have such a fixation on these “breasts”?” And that wasn’t even getting into the utterly awful metaphors and similes.
“And that is only the beginning.!" He turned the page as he continued, “Duchess spread her legs for the Pirate King, her womanly lifeboat on full display to the wretched Dread Pirate Roberts and swamped with her dewy desire “Oh no, please don't take my maidenhood you horrid pirate. Don’t plunder my depths and steal from me that which should only taken by my husband!””
Ragna laughed even more then, almost unable to believe what she was hearing, “Womanly lifeboat? And is she telling him to stop while beckoning him? What is this?”
“Extrememely poorly written ravishment fantasy. One has to wonder if the author wanted to write such a thing or if someone demanded a ravishment when they wanted lovemaking.”
“Ha! You're funny, sweet advisor of mine.” Who could ever call this lovemaking? She licked his cheek once more, telling him, “Keep going.”
Dictatious nuzzled into her before continuing, “Countess Duchess moaned as the Pirate King's masculine rod pierced her innocent, untouched cunny-”
“CUNNY?” Ragna broke down then, unable to stop laughing. “What IS this? I have never heard that word in my entire life? What did you say this thing was called?”
Dictatious closed the book and checked both covers, “It's called “Taken by The Pirate King,” and it was written in 1988 by human reckoning.”
“And they wasted ink and paper on this?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
“Keep going.”
Dictatious turned his eyes to the book once again, “Duchess gave a shout of pain as she felt her maidenhood pierced, a streak of blood on The Pirate King's manhood as he pulled away slightly, rendered pink by her desire.”
"Wait, blood? Did I miss something? Has this become an attack?”
“Ah, no, it seems humans have some sort of seal before the first time they mate? Or perhaps the author believes they do? I'm not sure. Either way, this is the Countess' first time mating.”
“I thought she was a duchess.”
“No, her name is Duchess but her title is Countess.”
“This is all very confusing.”
“It is.” He then kept reading, “As Dread Pirate Roberts thrust within her, the pain slowly ebbed into pleasure. Duchess felt it in waves, his member like a dolphin breaching every time he thrust forward. He gasped and moaned for him. “Oh you horrible pirate! That feels far too good! You shall ruin me for my husband”
“Good,” said the Pirate King. “When I return you, let your husband try and please you, and let his poor attempts be a memory of me.” He then gave her a wicked smile, telling her, “In fact, why don't we have him raise my bastard?””
“No,” Duchess cried out as she felt a final rush of pleasure finally take her, screaming out her ecstasy as she felt the Dread Pirate Roberts warm jism fill her and violate her previously pristine womanhood and fill her now sullied womb.”
“He's going to return her? After all of that?” The Underlady asked in shock. “And how long did they even last? And why would they call seed JISM?”
“I actually don't know. This is the first “love scene” of the book.“ He pointed out how much of the book was left. Indeed, the scene had been very short as well. “I haven't actually finished it.”
“You haven't?”
He shook his head, “I read this scene and simply had to show you, my lady. It was just too ridiculous to not share with you for mockery’s sake.”
“Well, now I'm curious. Surely this human wouldn't give up so easily, would he? He just called her his most precious treasure and has removed her, what did they call it, her maidenhood.”
“I must admit, I'm curious as well.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Read it from the beginning, Elskan.”
Dictatious nodded and turned back to the first page, catching Ragna up from the start. About how the innocent and pure Countess Duchess was on her fathers' ship in order to meet her affianced, Count Foppington, for the first time. The tale of how this Pirate King, Dread Pirate Roberts, terrorized the seven seas, stole all manner of booty, and had taken many a maiden and lady hostage, but was a gentleman and returned them untouched. In the end, the Pirate King did indeed refuse to return Duchess, and refused her fiance’s gold (which had taken three months to procure for some reason) and took her father’s ransom as a dowry. According to the book, they lived happily ever after with Duchess as the Pirate Queen, having conceived a whelp from their many trysts.
“Interesting how they dropped the ravishment fantasy almost immediately. She didn't even bother to pretend to dislike him.” After a few moments of stroking his mane, she asked, “Do you have more of these?”
“I'm afraid not. This is the first time Fragwa has brought me this sort of human literature.”
“Remedy that, then, I want to read more of this filth.” She then thought for a moment, “Wait, have I not heard the name Dread Pirate Roberts before?”
Over the next few weeks, Dictatious managed to get Fragwa to obtain all manner of horrid romance books. At first, he had Fragwa bring him ones with oil painted covers. These books all took place in the past or some happy, idealized versions of it. And while not all were smutty, he did find them consistently entertaining. However, once, Fragwa brought a book that had some sort of caricature illustration on the cover, and that one turned out to be surprising in many ways.
It wasn't the filthiest they'd ever read, nor did it have the most egregious vocabulary. In fact, it was downright clean and wholesome for the most part. It was just a tale of a ballerina and professional skateboarder, whatever that was, called, “Love on the bars”. There was also some sort of subplot about working together to save a skate park and a ballet studio that were next door to each other. However, when they came to the love scene together, instead of a tasteful fade to black, Dictatious and Ragna found themselves reading something else entirely.
The pair started to have doubts when Trent kissed Regina's neck, then wondered if perhaps a scene from a different book had accidentally been printed into this one when pulled off her clothes and kissed all over her body. The two expected the scene to fade to black even as she went to give him a blow job (these books often didn’t count oral or sometimes even outercourse as “real sex” for some reason) and their delusion only left them when Dictatious read out, “Regina felt herself sliding off the bed, rubbing her clit as Trent pounded into her. In her pleasure she cried out, “Fuck me harder! Fuck my pussy until I can only think about your dick! I want to feel it when I do a split!”" Dictatious had to put the book down as he laughed, “And yet they could not even say the word fuck until now.”
Ragna found herself wheezing at the shock of it all, doubled over as she sat across from Dictatious. She expected to have been disappointed by the fluffy little book and yet found this human dancer in the exact sort of positions Gunmar would put her in when they first became mates, down to the dirty talk about feeling it later. “I think he even said the words, “H-E-double-hockey-sticks” at one point. A grown man and a supposed delinquent unable to say hell yet taking her like an over eager troll.”
As they continued reading, they found that it was the book’s only scene of this type. The two humans did it in the state position, with him mounted upon her back, and he even finished on her breasts. But after that, nothing. It was bizarre to read that happen and immediately go back to sweet courtship and the couples’ places of comfort saved from the greedy warlord known as a “mall CEO.”
From that day on, Dictatious was not picky about what style of cover Fragwa brought him. As long as it was a romance title, it would do. And what a world it opened up. Alongside their historical romance, they found contemporary romances with caricature illustrations like the one that seemed to suddenly remember that it was meant to have eroticism, though most gave some sort of clue long before the scene. Some covers were even more obvious than the historical ones, bearing photographs of shirtless male humans and little else, making their actual plots a complete surprise. Even the boring covers found themselves to be entertaining, often made to be discreet so that no one could guess that the book could possibly be about humans having sex. One cover was so simple as to belong to a manual for some sort of machinery, and yet in its pages were not only miles of smut, but sadistic smut as well. None of it was written well.
“As Bruce hit me with the flog, I felt and heard the woman within cry out, “I”m sorry, Master! I’m such a bad girl!” My pussy was so wet; the other woman was enjoying this far too much. She was such a freak. What was wrong with her? And then Bruce slapped my pussy with his hand, and me and the other woman both cried out.
He hit me with the flog again as he rubbed my pussy and I started to cry while the other woman cried out in ecstasy. Bruce then put two fingers inside me and I whimpered. It felt so good. Too good. He asked me , “So you won’t come without my permission again, right kitten?””
It was actually Dictatious who interrupted his own reading from his spot behind the Underlady, using her large and thick mane as a blanket. “This book is bizarre. Each and every time she lays herself out for the male human, she brings up this other woman, seemingly splitting her mind in two. It even comes out when she’s treating herself to sweets and the gifts he gives her. And yet she claims she is perfectly healthy and sane. What do you make of it, my lady?”
Ragna looked up at Dictatious as she came up with something, “I believe she feels shame from enjoying the very act of mating, as many of these maidens do. And for him to have such tastes as striking her or gagging her or pinching her must make her feel as though she is committing a crime, and she commits an even greater crime by enjoying his touches, it may be better to blame it on this “other woman.” Just as it is easier to blame this entity for her small gluttonous and materialism.”
“That strikes me as good of an explanation as any.” Dictatious thought for a moment before asking, “Can I ever try slapping your rear with a flog once we take the surface and find one?”
“Only if you allow me to take a real bite out of your rear. I’m curious about how it might taste.”
“Excellent. It will be one of the first things we do.”
And then there were the best books. The most ridiculous. Fantasy romance. Fragwa reported that the subgenre was also known as “monster-fucking” through some very rude gestures but Dictatious wasn't sure how true that was. Either way, it was glorious. They didn't manage to find books where human females found themselves mating with trolls, thank Gorgus. In fact, most were false ones that were so far fetched as to be ridiculous. Everyone knew vampires weren't real, for instance, but Dictatious was certain they wouldn't be broody about their food, nor lusting after maidens barely into adulthood while repeating schooling over and over again. However, the false tales of true creatures were even more ridiculous, such as the fairies. The little extinct winged menaces made into strapping tall figures for the human women to enjoy ogling and touching
“Wilra found herself stunned by the faerey before her, unable to stop her hands from wandering across his abs. Tam-Lin chuckled as she blushed in embarrassment, telling her, “Go ahead, tonight, I’m all yours.”
To his consent, Wilra kissed him, her hands wandering up to his chest and feeling him there as well, the wings on his back giving an excited flutter. She told him, “Be careful, or you’ll blow me away.”
“I’ll be careful,” he said before kissing her more. He then moaned as her hands wandered further up, taking his horns and rubbing them-”
“Sensitive horns again!” Ragna marked the tally on a bone she kept just for this purpose, a human femur. There were now 15 marks on it. “Do humans know what horns are for?”
“They claim they do! But these books imply that these fairies and minotaurs and other creatures do battle by smashing gronk-nuks together. How does that not do catastrophic damage?”
“Maybe that is why this one is mating with the human. Perhaps he is sick of feeling the worst pain of his life over and over to impress his own kind and finds the human to be an easy conquest.”
“And where is the textual evidence for that, my love?”
Ragna flipped the book back by 20 pages, using Dictatious' finger as a bookmark. “Here. He tells her, “You are far more humble than any faerey woman. You surpass their beauty and yet refuse to demand blood. Who are you, to be so kind and yet so radiant? How does someone like you not have men fighting to the death for you?” He enjoys that he she demands nothing of him. Instead of asking what he can do to impress her, he expresses that her lack of standards are a feature to be admired. If he must harm such a sensitive place to earn the affections of his mates, then it is reasonable to desire a mate who has absolutely no standards, in his mind. If this book ends in a “happily ever after”, then I shall call the author a liar for trying to convince us he did not leave after simply getting what he wanted.”
“By Gorgus, you're right. She even asks if he is, and I quote, “Just trying to get his dick wet,” when he first tries to court her. The foreshadowing is all there. She knows this is but an easy way for him to mate and she lets him.”
“I am always right.” Ragna licked his cheek. She then sighed in content, asking him, “Do you remember when we first mated, Elskan?”
“I do, My Lady, I was terrified.”
“Despite having the Underlord's blessing.” She pulled him fully into her lap, telling him, “Do not misunderstand me, I could have been lying for all you knew, it was wise to be slightly wary. But how were you to know that? All you knew was that the underlady wanted something and that the Underlord had supposedly agreed to it. You had all the evidence in the world that it would be alright.”
“I did. Who could ever deny you, my lady?” He sat perched on her lap like a well behaved pup, leaning into her touch. He felt her run a dangerous claw around his pierced ear, making it twitch. “But why do we speak of such things? I love to reminisce with you, but surely this story does not remind you of our trysts.”
“No, but all the stories we have read have given me an idea.” Ragna flicked Dictatious piercing, “That perhaps you and I could enact our own story with far more skill than any of the humans. A love game, if you will.“
Dictatious looked back at the Underlady in surprise and excitement in his eyes, “A love game? You aren't bored, are you, my lady?“
“Oh, hush.” She lay down and dragged him onto her chest, clearly considering what she wanted out of such a game. “How about this? You are my war captive and I decided to keep you to myself.”
”Away from your lecherous warriors.”
“Yes, though it would certainly be possible that I could throw you to them at any moment.”
“Ooh, threats of ravishment.”
“And I am in need of a scholarly mind to balance my brutality in an heir. And who better than the genius little troll I captured to give me such a thing?”
“So you wish for me to give you a clutch in this scenario?”
“Preciely.”
He licked her strong chest, putting his head there to hear her heartbeat while he was at it. ”I am at your pleasure, my lady.”
“Good.” She sat up and set him down so he was sitting in the nest, ”Let us begin.”
Dictatious smiled with all of his snaggleteeth and nodded before schooling his face, making sure to look all the world like a terrified little troll-market troll. It felt strange that he was able to step into such a role after all these years.
Ragna hummed in satisfaction, running a claw upon his jaw, “My, what have we here? Such a little thing has been brought to the Heckla Queen.”
Heckla queen? Well, that wasn't quite what he expected. No matter. Dictatious, still playing the part of a damsel in distress, begged of Ragna in her role as the Heckla Queen, “Please, let me go, oh Queen Ragna. I am but a humble scholar. I am of no use to you, but my family has treasure to spare. They will give you whatever you wish as ransom”
Ragna laughed as she grabbed Dictatious by the chin, “You misunderstand, little conundrum, I do not need to beg for treasure and I have more than enough brutes among my ranks. It is that mind of yours that intrigues me. You are a scholar, yes? What do you study?”
Dictatious shivered as he was grabbed, forced to look the Heckla Queen directly in the eyes. “I study troll lore. The history of our peoples. The culture of all the tribes and the great battles between them. The tales of heroes and the defeats of villains like you.”
“Ha! A feisty thing full of fire and wit! Good, it will do me no good for my concubine to be weak and afraid.”
“Concubine? How dare you! I am the first born son of house Galadriagal! I will not be some warlord's mere concubine!” Honestly, he was mildly disappointed. Normally in these scenarios the submissive one, usually the human female, was made a spouse to the wretched dominant human, sometimes captured, and sometimes cruelly treated in the darker stories, but always the male’s main mate, and always adored.
He then found his hair pulled by Ragna, making him cry out. She hesitated for a moment, but when she was sure that she hadn't yanked all of his hair out, she went right back to it, “Enough prattle! I could always throw you to my generals. I'm sure you would give them plenty of clutches.”
He went silent, resigned to his fate at her concubine rather than a breeder for her generals. She smiled, telling him, “Good pet. Now, let us put your mouth to good use, see if it is as clever as you claim."
Dictatious then found himself knocked over onto his back. Luckily, his head fell into the plush nest rather than onto the hard stone floor. Ragna hovered over him, ripping her skirt off, now fully nude before him. Ah, but she was not exposed yet. He noticed a line of wetness at her apex, so he would see in her full glory soon enough. She got down on her knees, hovering over his mouth, making sure to not put too much of her weight onto him. However, he grabbed her thighs, breaking character so she could sit on his face more easily. She allowed this, her weight upon him a comforting presence. He then went to bite at her thigh like a feisty little prisoner, his teeth scraping at her stone skin and leaving shallow, uneven grooves. Evidence that he was here. She gave a soft gasp and chuckled. “Ooh, that tickles. You'll have to do better than that to make me relent with those adorable little teeth of yours.”
He snarled but yielded, going to lap at her now that he knew there was no escape. He felt that wetness, tasted her, and she was divine. The more he lapped at her, the more she opened up, until he felt soft, wet flesh instead of hard stone hide. Orange, glowing, and warm. Her arousal was obvious if he were to take a look, which he gladly did. He noted that her secondary sex was tucked away. She must have wanted nothing more than to be filled. She put her hands in his hair in a silent treat and told him, “Don't you dare stop.”
Luckily, Dictatious had no such plans to do so. He immediately went back to it, observing how cunt dripped in want, how it twitched with desire. As his upper hands gripped her thighs, his lower hands spread her folds, pressing his tongue to her core to have a more direct taste, lapping at and pressing inside her firmly, though he never stayed inside her for long. He also licked at the spot above her slit, where her secondary sex was hidden, pointedly avoiding her clit.
Ragna sighed and ground herself down on his tongue in response, “You little tease. I know you can do better than that.” She even yanked at his hair to get him to respond properly and comply.
Dictatious groaned when she yanked at his hair again, the pain and threat of its loss sending electric tingles from the top of his head down to his sex. He was tempted to act bratty and refuse so she would give him more of that. But alas, his desire to see his lady happy was stronger than his desire to see her strength. He moved away from her entrance to her clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking. When that got a gasp from his lady, he smirked, letting her wet his chin with her essence and continuing to grip her thighs, now using all four of his hands. He then went in to use his tongue alongside sucking, savoring her noises of pleasure and groaning into her as if she was the finest meal he had ever tasted, the game long abandoned as he continued to please the underlady. His noises made her grind into him harder, eliciting an all out moan.
Ragna was not one to whimper, but she did so now as she enjoyed Dictatious' touches, However, she wanted more. She eased up on him a bit, telling him, “Finger me. Now.”
With less need to use his hands to hold her up, he took one of his lower hands and pressed three fingers into her all at once. She took them eagerly, telling him, “Right there, keep them there.”
Ever her obedient servant, Dictatious thrust his three fingers at that spot near her entrance. He had very small hands, so it wasn't much of a stretch at all. But oh those fingers were so very dextrous. Rubbing right against her with such finesse as his tongue pressed and swirled upon her clit, being treated like it was the most delectable candy. His touch sent her closer and closer to her limit. She tried to stand up, but he kept his upper hands on her thighs, not wanting her to leave. She panted as she told him, “Dictatious, if you do not stop, I'm going to cum.”
Dictatious, to his credit, did stop then, telling her, “I know, I want to bring you to a crashing ecstasy. I want you to cry out my name as you are brought over the edge of sweet oblivion. I want nothing more than to see it. To feel you upon my mouth and fingers.”
Ragna's face softened as she looked down at him, still panting as she did. And she couldn't help it, she could never say no to him. Especially when the request was as sweet as that. Nor would she deny him an act that would bring her such pleasure. “Keep going then. I shall drown you in my pleasure if you so badly wish for it.”
Dictatious smirked and continued once more, lapping at her pearl with wild abandon, his fingers teasing and rubbing inside her once more. He said he wanted to bring her to oblivion and he meant it.
Though her oncoming climax had subsided a bit from their pause, Ragna very quickly found herself on the precipice once more. Dictatious could feel it, the tension inside her translating to the tension she felt in her belly and in her legs. And he was relentless as he continued. With one particularly hard suck, the dam broke. The underlady roared out in ecstacy, her walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as she soaked him down to the wrist with her orgasm, panting as her legs shook.
Ragna looked down at Dicatious and smiled, telling him, “My, you certainly do have a clever tongue, and clever fingers as well.” She then got off of him properly, pulling him to her chest as she came down from her high. However, she took note of the hardness in his shorts. It was squirming and eager. “But you enjoyed it almost as much as I. You are not at all innocent, little scholar.” She then rubbed him through his shorts, making him tense up groan, clearly having been wanting for quite a while.
Dictatious got back into character, telling her, “You fiend, this means nothing! How else is someone supposed to react to such debauchery? What are you going to do to me now? Leave me wanting and waiting until I beg for you? Throw me in the dungeon until you have need of me again? Tease me more until I relent”
Ragna chuckled, “Oh my sweet, silly little scholar. I would never do any of those horrible things to my concubine. No, I would never leave you wanting. I would have you feel nothing but pleasure and have you treated like the precious thing you are, but first, I must claim you.”
“What do you mean by claim me, you ruffian?”
“I mean this,” she then dragged Dictatious forward and bit him on the shoulder, continuing to rub at him through his pants.
Dictatious screamed then, but not out of fear, or even purely pain, but in pleasure, The feeling of being bitten was delicious when combined with the underlady's ministrations upon him. Most would be terrified when she bit down and drew blood, when they felt her tongue on their skin, lapping it up like the finest mead. But Dictatious knew himself to be safe. The devourer sought not to eat him, but to pleasure him. He would never be her meal, his doom would never be the reason that she had a full belly. He knew this because he knew she loved him too much to ever do that to him. Sometimes he wondered how Gunmar would feel if he knew that Dictatious was more than a bedwarmer, if he knew just how fond of him she was.
Eventually, she let go. Though a troll's stone hide was thick, the damage was, shockingly, only superficial. It would scar over, for sure, but he had not truly hurt him. She had held back with her bite. Ragna gave his shoulder another lick before licking his face. “Now, let's see what we have to work with, my sweet concubine.” She then laid him down on the nest.
He could not stay in character despite his best attempts. He smiled at the underlady and spread his legs as she finally pulled his shorts off, the single overall strap snapping open, his tiny tail wagging in excitement. She smiled as if this was her first time seeing him naked and aroused, telling him, “My, I think I'll quite enjoy this,” squeezing all three of his cocks in her hand.
The three of them were tendrils, prehensile as they wound their way along and between her fingers. The middle was the largest, and it was the only one with a slit at its top. It wound its way around the other two as it traveled along her hand, coating its smaller counterparts in the generous pre that flowed from it. And while it was indeed the thickest and longest of the three, the other two were not far behind at all. Holding the three together, they would no doubt be a daunting task for the humans in the books they read. But that was not so for Ragna, these were a treat for her, it made her lick her lips as she now properly stroked them, her hand being coated in the slick lubrication that middle one provided. His secondary sex was wet as well, but that was far easier to ignore, in his mind.
Dictatious got back into character then, seemingly remembering the game they were playing, “You beast! How dare you take my purity so carelessly! How horrid to know my first shall be you! Release me!”
That made Ragna blink in confusion for a moment. “Virginity” was not a preoccupation for trolls the way it was for humans. Sharing your first time with someone could be special, yes, but this purity talk was not something she had ever heard from another troll before. Of course you were named for your father, but your mother need not be pure for them. However, she quickly recovered upon realizing that he was imitating the human books, “On the contrary, little scholar, you will lose your maidenhood to the finest bride.” She then pulled her hand away and licked the pre away from her palm all the way to the tips of her claws, the sight of which made Dictatious' cocks twitch.
“Mmm, delicious, now let's see if you can breed me properly, little scholar.” She took all three of his cocks in hand and lowered herself upon them, groaning in satisfaction at the feeling of finally being filled. Dictatious groaned beneath her as well, feeling her wet heat surrounding him. The feeling of his undulating tendrils feeling divine to the both of them.
And then, without another word, Ragna began to ride Dictatious, panting as she did. The tendrils reached spots inside her that no stable, stationary cock could ever hope to. She told Dictatious, ”By the gods that's divine.”
However, not wanting poor Ragna to do all the work, Dictatious grabbed at her hips with two hands and at her thighs with the other two. Not to move her, by Gorgus no, that was impossible and she would never allow it if it was. Instead, he used the grip as leverage, doing his best to meet her bouncing with his thrusts.
Ragna giggled as he did this, telling him, “”Chasing your pleasure I see.” However in that moment, he rubbed right against that spot on her entrance relentlessly and moaned loudly.
Dictatious, for his part, panted as he told her, “I c-could never leave you to do everything by yourself m-my lady. I am fully at your service. U-Use me, and I shall help you use me. Luxuriate, and I shall do all the work. Ask anything you wish of me, and it shall be done.”
Ragna's heart melted at such a statement. Gods, where had she found such a sweet little scholar. She bent down to grasp at his shoulders, minding his new bite as she broke character. “I could not have asked for a better advisor. You feel so good inside me. And you make me feel like a queen as well. How did I ever earn you?”
Such words made Dictatious thrust his hips up, gasping before biting back a moan, slowing down his undulations and thrusting. “I could say the same. How did I ever earn the right to even look upon you, let alone bed you?” Honestly, he was shocked he still had his head after all this time spent with her. How could Gunmar ever let a woman like this stray? But then, couldn’t say he didn’t understand. How could anyone say no to the underlady? How could anyone bear the thought of ever disappointing the most beautiful troll in all the worlds?
Ragna chuckled and ran a claw along Dictatious' chin, telling him, “I felt that, lovely. You almost finished. All it took was some praise for you to break your so-called integrity and nearly spill yourself within me.” Her dangerous claws wandered up to his cheek.
Dictatious could not deny it, He nodded, taking her fingers into his mouth, sucking on them as he did, tongue winding around the digits and claws, not caring that he tasted himself.
The underlady clenched around her advisor in turn, her spine shuddering as his tongue laved attention on her fingers. Even as they were coated in his own pre and he had not been told to. What had she done to earn Dictatious indeed?
She had no need to stop, truly, having already gotten her pleasure. She could simply continue riding him through his near orgasm until he spilled, and then continue until he told her it was too much. But that was not what she wanted. She slowed down to a gentler pace instead. “I want to finish with you, advisor of mine.”
Dictaatious stopped sucking on her fingers then, telling her, “Thank you, my lady. You can continue, if you wish. I assure you, I will not disappoint you again.”
“You didn't disappoint me. You could never disappoint me. It is an honor”
Ragna's hips picked back up again, feeling his tentacles undulating against her once more. Below her, Dictatious was the very figure of concentration and pleasure. How odd for such a combination of emotions to be present in one troll. But perhaps that was simply to be expected from Dictatious. He wanted nothing more than her pleasure, and so his pleasure would come from his focus. It was a silly face, all things considered, but she didn't care. To her, it was a good face, another sign of his love.
While she so lovingly rocked her hips against him, Dictatious could not help but focus on every sensation. The way that their stone hides made delicate grinding and clicking noises with every rock of Ragna's hips. How warm she was, evidence of her origins as a volcanic troll, her wetness as hot as the lava it shared a resemblance with. The power of her walls, how every single muscle in her perfect body was built for strength, right down to those used for pleasure. Honestly, she could crush him to death and he would only thank her. He thanked her for his bleeding shoulder even now, telling her, “Thank you, my lady. Thank you for all of your gifts. For claiming me.”
Ragna did not respond with words. Only with a pleased growl and another squeeze.
He turned to take her finger in his mouth once again, the underlady giving another groan as he did that. “Gods, you look divine like this. Under me, in your place, and loving every moment of it. I wonder what would happen if I rewarded you?“
“W-what?”
She leaned forward, now grinding their hips together, the sound of the soft scraping as loud as the blood pounding in her ears, “What if I actually let you breed me? What if you filled me and gave me your heir? Gunmar wouldn't be able to say a damned thing. After all, he gave you to me for my pleasure, and it would be my pleasure for your seed to quicken within me and give you a clutch. How many eggs do you think I would lay? Three? Four? Five?” Nonsense, of course, the darklands were no place to beget eggs. But that didn’t stop the pleasure that Ragna felt at the thought, nor did it stop her desire for it.
Dictatious gasped, groaned, and was clearly trying to hold back his orgasm yet again. But instead of easing up, one of his clever lower hands wandered, reaching her clit and rubbing.
And that got the underlay to shout and gasp, riding him even harder, the scraping of their hips together far less gentle than before and far louder as well. A coil was tightening within her belly, “Fuck! Don't you dare stop, little scholar.”
And indeed, he didn't stop, rubbing at her in quick but gentle circles as he worked. Feeling her tighten around him once more, her second orgasm of the evening impending. And he knew that he was sure to follow.
And then, all at once, it happened, the underlday howled out her pleasure as his three tendrils touched that spot at her entrance, the one deep inside her, and the all the other nerves inside her all at once while his fingers worked her pearl into a frenzy with tight, fast circles. She once more fluttered around him in a vice grip, and that brought him to a crashing crescendo in turn, feeling all of her all at once as he gave several quick thrusts into her, finishing within her. He even gave a loud honk as he did.
He held her hips with his lower hands now, though she knew better than to pull away, lest she make an immediate mess. She felt herself being filled by him, his seed thick and copious. This waiting and gentle thrusting went on for several moments before he let go. The underlady was careful as she pulled herself off of him and lay back, letting him observe his handiwork before it all spilled out.
Dictatious sat up to do just that, observing exactly what he did to her. And what a wonderful sight it was. His spend mixing with her desire as it dripped out between her folds. His pink seed was a stark contrast against her dark purple hide, yet appeared lovely amongst her orange arousal. Both of these were copious enough to coat her very inner thighs as she lay back. And that just wouldn't do, not on his watch.
He crawled between her legs and licked at her thighs, her legs twitching as he did, “Again, dearest? I do not have as much stamina as I did 900 years ago.”
“No, my lady, merely cleaning you.”
“Hmm, proceed then.”
He continued, not caring that he tasted himself on her, only that she was clean and that she was happy and purring. When he was done, their sexes were hidden once more and he nuzzled her leg lovingly. He told her, “Perhaps we should play such games more often. Perhaps even reenact the scenes from this books in an improved fashion"
“It's certainly a good idea. Perhaps we need not even confine our dalliances to the trash the goblins bring. Perhaps we can read between the lines of our trollish histories. Or we can reenact their rare, good tales. I could be your Penelope and you my Odysseus, perhaps?”
“An excellent idea, my lady. I shall be sure to pretend we have been separated for a lifetime next time we are together. Though I cannot guarantee there won't be any tears.” He crawled on top of her, recovering the book they had been reading together. “Shall we finish this tale of the fae and his human with no standards?”
“Sounds like a plan, Elakan.” But then, after a pause, she asked, “Wait, is the fae's name not Tam-Lim?”
“It is.”
She barked out a laugh, “I remember him! Pretending to be a fairy to get human females to sleep with him. I see his counterpart in literature is the same.”
She then licked his cheek tenderly, telling him, “I love you.”
You find yourself at the far shore, how did you get here? You open your eyes to be met with a certain someone grinning.
“Woah! So that’s who he wanted me to keep an eye on huh?”
You spend a few days with him. But when a gigantic hole opens in front of you, you feel yourself being picked up, and then before you knew it you were thrown into the void and ended up somewhere.
”Oh my who is this? A new supernatural? Ending up in my bathroom?” You heard a playful voice next to you, something felt awfully familiar about it.
After the events of Weirdmaggeddon, Dipper and Mabel are contacted by the SCP foundation and join the ranks. The adventure never ended, it just took a different turn. And now, years later, they're back to Gravity Falls, aka SCP-████. And it is up to them to investigate the ever-growing mystery behind the town and protect the most dangerous and important SCPs there are and face their past.
Chapter Two: All Around Me Are Familiar Faces
The good thing about being conscripted as a child was that Dipper didn’t need to be debriefed about where Gravity Falls was. He could just pack his stuff up, talk to his landlord, and head out. And that’s exactly what he did, packing just about everything he owned into a Uhaul, his testosterone in a cooler on the front seat to be safe. The trip to Gravity Falls was gonna be a bit of a long haul, unfortunately, but what was more American than taking an overly long road trip for a new job?
And to be honest, with the exception of a mixup at one of the motels and a lackluster lunch in Portland, the trip itself had been largely uneventful. The thirty-five-hour drive from Site-19 to Gravity Falls had been broken down into 10-hour drives, with sleep and meals in between of course. All in all, it took about three and a half days to do it, more or less.
But with all the drive time, even with the radio on, it gave him time to think. He hadn’t been to Gravity Falls in over two years, and Site-19 wasn’t exactly close; if he wasn’t taking all his stuff with him, he would have flown. That wasn’t to say he didn’t keep in touch however, he absolutely did. But he hadn’t seen the place in so long. It was bound to be different, wasn’t it?
And then it was the fact that it wasn’t his supervisor or even Dr. Casper who reassigned him. It was Dr. Bright. Head of personnel himself. There had to be a bigger reason to send him home than just potential. He figured that it was his experience with the site both during and after Weirdmaggedon, but was that really all there was to it? Why not assign him to Gravity Falls in the first place? It was honestly setting off his paranoia. What if there was some important assignment he had somehow missed in the paperwork?
It wasn’t until he was almost there that he remembered what the forms said. He hadn’t seen anything about a secret or a vital mission in those papers he signed. He’d probably be doing standard experimentation. Maybe even stuff he’d been doing ever since he was a kid. It could even be considered a well-earned break after working those five years at site-19.
But had he really earned it? He worked for three years in the anomalous objects department before working in the department of spectral anomalies. Plenty of people got way less after dealing with way worse. All MTF operatives got was a trip to the duck pond.
All Mabel got was a trip to the duck pond.
Best to not think about it.
When he finally arrived at Gravity Falls though, he found that not much had changed, Greasy’s was still there, the used car lot was still there- though it was clear Bud had retired- and no one seemed to move away. If anything, the little town had grown ever so slightly in the time he was gone. He wondered how much of it was foundation personnel and their families, and how much was just regular growth.
The real surprise though was when he arrived at his new building. Sure, he’d told his family where the apartment was going to be and he knew they’d be there to help him move in. What he didn’t expect was to be tackled as soon as he got out of his car and to hear a yell, “OH MY GOD, DIPPER, YOU’RE HERE!” Strong arms squeezed around him, damn near cracking his spine.
“Mabel!” He wiggled out of her grip just a little bit, the smile never leaving his face as he looked at his twin. “I had no idea you were in town! How long have you been here? Did work give you vacation time?”
“Nope! I’m here full-time! For like a month now!” She finally let him go.
“Wait, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Cause you said you were coming like a week after I showed up! So I wanted to surprise you!” She ruffled his hair.
“ACK!” He got away from her again, not wanting his hair to look any messier. “Come on, let me just get inside.”
Just as he expected, it was more than just Mabel there. Soos, Wendy, Melody, and his Grunkles. They even had a few bags with them. Housewarming stuff no doubt.
“Sorry if there was a wait guys, I had some trouble at a motel a couple of states back.”
Wendy went to mess up his hair, just as Mabel had before, Dipper batting her off as well before she high-fived him, “It’s fine dude, we haven’t been waiting long. What chu been up to?”
“Just a lot of work, getting ready to come on over here, what about you?”
“Just kicking ass!”
“Hell yeah!”
Then came a sudden and tight hug from Soos, “Dude it’s been way too long!” Melody then put a hand on his shoulder, telling him, “Yeah, it was like you disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Dipper laughed, telling them, “Yeah, I’m sorry, I should have made the time. But hey! I live here now, we can see each other whenever.” He looked around and noted the distinct lack of a small child clinging to his leg. “Hey, where’s Ernesto?”
“Oh dude, he’s at camp, remember?”
“Already?”
“Yeah, school let out a couple of days ago, you just missed him yesterday,” Melody clarified.
“Augh, I should have packed up sooner.”
“It’s alright, dude, Ernesto gets that he’ll see you when he gets back. Plus, you’ll live here! You can just show up whenever!”
“Yeah yeah, that’s enough small talk! Get over here ya little goober!” Stan pulled Dipper in for a hug and a clap on the shoulder. “How’s Detroit been?”
“Site 19 isn’t in Detroit, Stanley.”
“It's in Michigan either way.”
“It’s been nice actually. Way too cold in winter though.”
“That sounds about right, the great lakes region is known for being quite punishing.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice. How was this year's trip?”
“Oh, it was great! I punched a Kraken in the face! And Ford here met up with his ex again.” Stan elbowed Ford, who couldn’t help but smile.
“I do admit that it was surprising to see Armand again after all these years. Especially when Stanley nearly jumped into the water after hearing his song.”
“Come on, let’s take the yapping upstairs,” Mabel interjected. “We haven’t even seen Dipper’s apartment yet."
The apartment itself wasn’t huge, just a regular one-bedroom. But there was a lot of stuff to bring up. The camera setup, all of Dipper’s dishes, even an aquarium, though it was currently devoid of both fish and water.
“Oh, dude, I didn’t know you kept fish!” Soos said.
“Oh, I don’t. I bought it back in January but I got slammed with work right after, so I never filled it. That’s gonna change though, I wanna start keeping tetra maybe.”
Mabel almost jumped at the chance to tell him, “Oh! You’ll be heading to Grenda’s then! Tell her I said hi!”
“Woah, Grenda’s living ing Gravity falls again? I thought she moved to Austria after she got married, or did something happen?”
“Come on, man, don’t be a downer,” Wendy ruffled his hair, “she and Marius just split their time. You really gotta keep up around here.”
“Right, I shouldn’t have assumed.” And with that, they continued the setup. With the aquarium right across from the couch, so Dipper could look at his fish as he relaxed. Once everything was set up, Dipper ordered pizza.
“Okay, so, we’re getting pepperoni and cheese and chocolate syrup for Mabel.”
Stan shuddered, thinking aloud as he said, “I don’t understand how you can eat some of that stuff, kid.”
Ford shrugged, “Honestly it doesn’t sound too bad.”
Mabel laughed a bit, telling them, “I just have better tastebuds than you guys.”
“More like way weirder tastebuds,” Wendy cracked.
“Sometimes I just think you’re making up how much you like that stuff just to mess with us,” Melody commented lightheartedly. And she further remarked, “It’d be a pretty hardcore prank, to be honest.”
“Honestly, I used to be way worse when I lived on-site and had to eat in the cafeteria. I would just go to the different stations and just put whatever was there on my tray and see what happened. But, like, I don’t do it all the time, I can eat normally.”
“I mean, you are pretty hardcore,” Dipper commented. “One time on site-19, I tried to replicate Mabel Juice for old time’s sake and almost got sent to the hospital.
That got a bit of a laugh and they spent the rest of the afternoon like that. Talking, catching up. Dipper could have honestly spent his whole life like that. Away from the stresses of testing, watching Mabel commit crimes against food.
When it was time for everyone to head out, Dipper bid them all goodbye and found that he had gotten a text on his phone from Ernesto.
“Did you make it home ok Uncle Dipper?”
Dipper smiled and texted back, “Yeah, your mom and dad came by to help, wish I’d shown up earlier bud.”
“Yeah, I wanted to help! 😫
But you’re still gonna be here at the end of the summer right?”
“Don’t worry bud, I won’t be moving for a long time. When you get back, I’ll have something super cool to show you!”
“Really? What is it?”
“It’s a surprise 🤫”
“I’ll just ask grandpa Stan then lol.”
Well, that settled it, there was no time to wait. He would need to get fish for both himself and Ernesto in the morning
Mason didn’t have any dreams when he slept. There was no alarm in the morning either. He even made himself an omelette with cheese and mushrooms; thank god for Wendy bringing the groceries; and got his T-shot done quickly when normally he was a bit precious about it. He felt good about unhitching the U-Haul and driving through town.
It wasn’t hard to find Grenda’s shop. Past the used car lot/psychic’s shop, next to the laser tag place and replacing the dance studio. On the way, it let him see just how many people moved here. He wondered which were loggers and which were agents. He was pretty sure the super tall redhead in flannel who looked like a Cuordoroy was a lumberjack, and the lady picking up a coffee from Greasy’s who had sunglasses and an earpiece was without a doubt an agent, but with others, it was hard to tell. Though he was sure he would find out in time.
When he got to the shop, he found that it was, quite predictably, called Grenda’s Pet Emporium. The sign itself was even pink and the lettering was done in a cursive font, perhaps more appropriate for a hair salon or dog groomer than for a full pet store. But that wasn’t any of his business. As Dipper walked in, he found that the place made use of the dance studio space to create a huge floor, showing off both the supplies and pets. And then he heard it.
“Guten tag!”
Dipper looked to the cash register and saw Marius with a smile and his hair tied back. The young baron looked like he belonged there, oddly enough. Perfectly comfortable in a pink polo and khakis. “Marius? You work here?”
“Ja! When Grenda and I are here at least. It’s relaxing and the people are polite enough, though they ask many questions. And I get to spend time with mein lovely wife and all these little animals.”
“That does sound like a nice gig. Is Grenda here by the way?”
“She is! Just wait for a moment!” With that, he headed into the back, returning with Grenda.
“Dipper! You moved here already?” She gave him a hug that absolutely cracked his spine.
“Y-yeah! I just got in yesterday! Mabel says hi by the way.” It was good to see Grenda hadn’t changed since he last saw her. Still the affectionate woman who’d befriended his sister all those years ago.
She soon let go of him, asking, “So, what brings you here? Besides saying hi, I mean.”
“Oh, I actually came to buy some fish and supplies. I already have a filled tank so I just need some water conditioner, a heater, and some decorations.”
“What species were you thinking of,” asked Marius.
“I was thinking maybe tetras, but honestly, as long as it’s fresh water and won’t eat other fish, it works for me.”
“That’s great, 'cause we’ve got a bunch of tanks that I just stocked.” And so she led Dipper to the aquatics section. And she wasn’t kidding about the selections. She had tetras, suckers, goldfish, and more. All with meticulous care guides seemingly written by Grenda herself. Tellingly, she had no bettas in sad little cups. He was honestly pretty impressed and feeling almost serene watching so many fish.
That was immediately shattered when he heard, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Pine Tree home after all this time.”
Dipper nearly jumped at it, almost in disbelief. It couldn’t be, could it? He looked in the direction of the voice and saw a tank with only one resident. A yellow axolotl that was missing an eye. And though axolotls couldn’t make faces, Dipper could have sworn this one looked smug. “No, it can’t be,” he muttered to himself. He must have been going crazy.
“But it is, Pine Tree. Did you miss me? It’s been what, 18 years? You’ve really grown up, huh? At this rate, you’ll be a corpse soon. Speaking of, how’s Fordsy?”
Dipper blinked. What the hell? Was this axolotl even real? Dipper turned to Grenda and asked, “Hey, what’s this guy’s story?”
Grenda looked in the tank and, much to Dipper’s relief, rolled her eyes at the water dog, “Ugh, this guy. He’s an absolute nightmare is what he is. We tried breeding axolotls and when the first clutch hatched, this guy ate all his siblings! Even lost an eye in the process! And now he just lives here, acting all creepy and junk.”
Marius shuddered, “I still remember all the little gills.”
“And they were absolutely delicious.”
So Dipper definitely wasn’t going insane, but why couldn’t they hear the dream demon’s voice coming from the tank? Either way, he needed answers. And if this, reincarnation? Puppet? Of Bill’s was around here and could talk, well, he couldn’t just leave him. Who knew what else he would do? Plus people thought he was crazy at the best of times, the last thing he needed was to have a conversation with a Mexican salamander in the middle of a pet store. “So, is he for sale then?”
“Yeah, he is. But for you, Dipper, he's on the house.”
“Come on, don’t be like that, I’m worth at least 100 bucks!”
“Ja, anything to get him out of here.”
“Are there any fish he won’t eat?”
“Yeah, there are some species axolotls get along with, guppies, minnows, snails, that sort of thing.”
“I’ll take him then.”
“WHAT?”
“I’ll take the supplies and some tankmates too. So he doesn’t get lonely.” So Dipper could have some fish he actually liked.
“Alright, just keep an eye on him for a little while when you get home. Just to be safe.”
Dipper looked at Bill again and could have sworn he had a look of despair on his face.
Dipper’s fish tank was a dream. Extra fine sand made up the substrate, the water was perfectly heated, and it had lots of hides and artificial plants. In the middle was the best and biggest hide. A replica of Teotihuacan, currently occupied by the tank’s axolotl. And that axolotl was pissed as he sat within that hide. Staring at Dipper as he sat on the couch across from him, drinking a Pitt Cola.
It was Dipper who broke the silence, the pit in the bottle rolling around like a shitty version of a Ramune marble as he put the soda down on the coffee table. “Ok, first things first. You should be dead. Why are you alive and possessing an axolotl.”
“Axolotl.”
“That’s what I said, axolotl.”
“No, it’s pronounced axolotl. And anyway, who said anything about possession? I was born like this, kid.”
“That doesn’t answer how the hell you’re even here!” Dipper stood up and began to pace. “I mean, you were erased from Grunkle Stan’s mind. That was supposed to, I don’t know, destroy your soul. You’re not supposed to be able to reincarnate or whatever this is!”
“Wow, you sure like making assumptions. Who said anything about my soul? How do you know I’ve ever even had one?”
Dipper glared at him and picked up his soda again, taking a swig from it like it was liquor and not a carbonated, fake-peach-flavored soft drink. “Ok then, why an axolotl? And how did you avoid getting destroyed?”
“That’s the fun part, I didn’t. I was dead. But before Stanley got to me, I called to a being more ancient than any of the universes. A being of creation, merciful but firm.”
“Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?”
“Shut up! Anyways, he heard me and told me I’ve got to be in another place, another time, another form. It just so happened that the form was in his image, the place was a nursery tank in Austria, and the time was last year.”
Dipper groaned, rubbing his face. “Ok, so, you got reincarnated by an axolotl god. What were you doing in Grenda’s store?”
“I lived there!”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Then I’m done talking!”
“Look, it’s not like you can exactly enact your plans anymore now that you’re in an SCP-foundation scientist’s fish tank-”
The axolotl opened its mouth and Dipper heard that horrible, maniacal laughter. A laugh that made his hair stand on end and that brought back memories of being 12 and incorporeal.
“No wonder you look so dead! I just thought you weren’t sleeping again, but no, you’re a stooge! A goon for some nosy zombies! After all this time, after all those heroics, you’re still someone’s puppet!” His gills flapped at the word heroics
“I am not!” Dipper slammed his empty cola bottle down on the coffee table. “You’re lucky that I’m not logging you as an anomaly! I should be bringing you into the office!”
“And yet that chatty, girly monster and her old-money, wife guy husband couldn’t hear me. If you turn me in, we’re gonna end up as SCP 30629313-1 and 30629313-2. You’re stuck with me.”
Dipper sat back down, glaring at Bill as Bill stared back with his one blank eye. An eye that betrayed much more brain power than any amphibian should have. And Dipper knew he was right. He couldn’t tell anyone at work that Bill was alive. Both for his own safety and the safety of others.
“Ok, but at least tell me why you’re like, you know, this.” He gestured toward Bill. “Why do you remember that you were a dream demon? Reincarnation isn’t supposed to work that way.”
“You’re funny. You think reincarnation is something that can be cataloged like that? No, even your foundation has a couple of reincarnations that remember everything, some that don’t know anything at all, and some that are in between. Like, say, that poor kid that they keep in her very own site.”
“Don’t even joke about that, man. It’s not like anyone wants her there.”
“Yeah, yeah, cold not cruel. Either way, it looks like we’re at an impasse, two monsters killing time.”
“Yeah, two monsters…” He sat there for a bit, thinking, before he went for his keys and told Bill, “I’ve gotta go. If you eat my fish, I’ll flush you down the toilet.”
“And risk her ripping you apart with her bare hands?”
“Yes, now leave my fish alone!” And with that, he left, heading straight to Mabel’s place.
There was no way in hell that Dipper was telling the foundation about Bill. And he didn’t want to be alone in this either. So she was the only person he could tell.
When Dipper arrived at Mabel’s house, he knocked and she answered, “Dipper, hey! Come on in!”
As soon as he walked in, Dipper heard sniffing and felt something touching his leg. He looked down and asked, “You got another pig?”
“Yeah, that’s Baby! Isn’t she just the cutest little thing?”
“Yeah, she is! When did you get her?”
“This morning!”
Baby proceeded to chew on Dipper’s pant leg. She was a black and white pig whereas Waddles had been just pink, with marks on her sides and one black spot over her eye. He picked her up and she squealed, so he put her back down and she trotted off somewhere. Mabel then finally brought Dipper into her living room and he got a good look at the decor. It was very Mabel, with a lot of sparkles and cats, but not necessarily in an eye-burning way. The sparkles, plentiful as they were, were mostly accents, the pictures on her pillows tasteful. Not to mention the comfortable-looking knitted throw blankets. It was as if a kindly grandmother discovered blingee.
“So, what’s with the visit? You already done unpacking?”
“Haha, um, well, no. You see, I, uh, have something to show you. And you have to promise to not tell anyone on site.”
Mabel’s expression went from a smile to a suspicious frown. “Dipper, did you try to break your way into the gnome lodge again?”
“That was one time and no!” He sighed and took out his phone, bringing up a picture he’d taken of the one-eyed axolotl, “He look familiar to you?”
Mabel, knowing Dipper wouldn’t mess with her about work matters, looked at the axolotl carefully, but didn’t see much wrong with it. “Ok, what am I looking at?”
“Mabel, it’s yellow and has one eye! Axolotls should be able to grow those back!”
“Wait, it’s not pronounced axolotl?”
“Yeah, no, it’s pronounced axolotl. But here’s the thing, Mabel. What else do we know has one eye, is yellow, and,” he gave a shout as Mabel shoved a pillow in his face. It had a birthday cake scent pack from Build-A-Bear in it.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Dipper! I know where you’re headed with this and it’s messed up!” She took the pillow away from his face so he could breathe. “What’s making you think that anyways? Did a ghost haunt you from Site-19 or something?”
“No! I’m sorry! But it really is Bill. He talked to me in the shop and everything. So I bought him from Grenda and put him in my fish tank for containment.”
“And you’re sure he’s actually talking? It’s not just another ghost you picked up?”
“Yeah, I even have proof.”
Dipper swiped through his phone then, pulling up a video of the back seat of his car, focusing on the axolotl in one of the plastic transport bags. Dipper could hear Bill yelling as he pawed at the bag and thrashed, “THIS IS INHUMANE PINETREE! AN AFFRONT! RELEASE ME! JUST DROP ME OFF IN A LAKE OR SOMETHING! MASON!” And then the video stopped, not wanting to film too long for the sake of his fish.
He looked at Mabel and she blinked. “Dipper, I didn’t hear anything. Was I supposed to?”
“What?”
“Yeah. It’s weird but it’s not anything I would call headquarters over.”
Dipper sighed, running his hand through his hair. Had he just hallucinated that? He figured that if he could hear it, then maybe through being twins, Mabel could hear it. He had clearly been wrong. But then, if it had been a hallucination, he wouldn’t be hearing it on the video.
Mabel looked at him and, seeing her brother sad and despondent, got an idea. “How about we head to your place and you let me see him? Two eyes are better than one, after all. Besides, Baby needs to get to know her uncle.”
“You know what? Yeah, let’s go. Seeing him in person will probably be better.”
With that, they headed to Dipper’s car, Mabel putting Baby in the back seat and buckling her with a dog seatbelt. As they drove, Mabel got on her phone and started texting. She asked Dipper, “You already pick out an outfit for what you’re wearing to dinner tomorrow?”
“Ugh, I almost forgot about that. I haven’t even unpacked all my clothes yet.”
“You haven’t even been back a day and you’re forgetting about family stuff? Dipper I thought you agreed to move here to not have work on your brain all the time.”
“Can we not do this? I mean, Mabel, this isn’t some cursed app. Bill nearly killed us when we were just kids.”
“Uh, yeah! I was there Dipper!” She sighed and pinched her nose. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’ll help you unpack when we get there.”
Baby snorted in the backseat.
When they got to Dipper’s building, Mabel flashed her badge at the front desk so fast that they thought it said CIA to let her bring a pig in.
“Mabel, what the hell?”
“Oh like you’ve never done it before Dipper, it was just to get Baby in,”
“Well, I haven’t,” Dipper lied.
Mabel just hummed and said, “If you say so.”
When they walked in, they found the tank right where they left it, with Baby going off to explore. Furthermore, Bill had, luckily, left his tankmates alive. But he was digging around the sand at the bottom of the tank much more energetically than an axolotl should be. When he detected that he was being watched, he stopped and started floating instead, looking as innocent as a newborn puppy.
“What are you doing?”
“None of your business.” He looked at Mabel and couldn’t help but comment, “Shooting Star didn’t believe you, huh?”
“No, she did, she just wanted to see you for herself.”
“What’d he say, Dipper?”
“He thinks you didn’t believe me.”
“And what was he doing?”
“It’s supposedly none of my business.”
“It IS none of your business.”
“It is my business because if you clog up the filter you’ll kill my other fish.”
Bill almost seemed to squint and Mabel definitely noticed it. She watched as he swam to his temple hide and saw how comfortable he looked in a pyramid structure. But she had to be sure, “Can he understand me, Dipper?”
“Loud and clear.”
So, Mabel went fully up to the tank and asked Bill, “What was the first thing I found in my prison bubble?”
Bill stared at Mabel with his one good eye, his front foot digging into the sand as if he was stimming while he thought. “The bubble was an automated spell that read your mind and gave you whatever you wanted. I didn’t enchant squat in there, kid. What I did do is grab your pig and drop him in. You humans just love your pets, after all. He would have been one of the first things you saw.”
“It was Waddles, the real Waddles. He didn’t personally give you anything else. You thought up that whole world.”
Mabel nodded, “Yeah, that’s right. I found Waddles and everything came later. But why is it that only you can hear him?”
“Who said only Pine Tree can hear me? I don’t remember piloting your meat suit around.”
“It seems like it’s cause he possessed me?”
“Do I wanna know his exact words?”
“Not really, no.”
Mabel sat on the couch, Dipper joining her, and Baby came by, wanting up too. Both humans stared at the tank as Bill stared back at them.
“So, what are you gonna do? It doesn’t exactly look like your setup’s temporary."
“I don’t know Mabel. He’s not exactly anomalous except for the whole talking to people he possessed. “
“Yeah, you and Ford would be part of his case file then.”
“So I have to stay here,” Bill interjected
“Yeah, I have to agree, looks like he’s staying,” Dipper said.
“We telling anyone?”
“See, that’s the part I’m not sure about, Mabel. Because who are we gonna tell? Ford? He’s just gonna get worried. Mayor Tyler? He’s just gonna taze us. Gideon?” Out of the question.
Baby snorted as she got comfy on the couch and Mabel sighed. “You’re right, it’s just, ugh, it’s another secret we have to keep.”
“I know, Mabel. But we have to. Until we figure out what’s up at least.”
Mabel cracked her neck and nodded. “Until we figure out what’s up.” She then got up. “Let me go help you unpack. We’ve got to get you dressed for tomorrow!” She then ran to Dipper’s bedroom. A threat that she was going to come up with something truly horrific to wear while she rifled through his clothes.
And Dipper couldn’t laugh as he told Mabel, “Don’t even think about He had to try and prevent her from seeing how many of the same shirts he owned. They didn’t see Bill go back to his digging.
If you liked this fic, please check out my writing tag (Sam writes and sam’s writing) here on tumblr. For author notes and the previous chapter, check the links in the reblogs. The hint for this chapter's code is 3 back
Hello sir(?) If you're still writing could you maybe write some kamibaku maybe?
With bakugou cheering up a sad kaminari because we don't see enough of bakugou cheering up the people he loves
hi im sorry this has taken so long!!!! here u go
//c.w. for anxiety, burnout, nearly a breakdown, friend fluff, platonic kamibaku (but you could read it as romantic)
also yes u can use sir for me :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
long day.
it had been a long day.
first of all, kaminari woke up late and he was just barely late to class, and aizawa scolded him in front of everyone.
embarrassing.
then, he overused his quirk during training - and while he was doing his thumbs-up -- to show that he wasn't hurt or dying -- everyone laughed at him.
he was in pain, a lot of it, and everyone was laughing at them.
sigh.
when he came to again, they just shut himself in his dorm.
kaminari was frustrated.
then, he was trying to do the homework assigned in class. none of it made any sense. it was just words on a page and it made no sense. it was frustrating.
kaminari swore they could cry from frustration, or yell, or scream or just-
knock, knock.
kaminari raised a brow and turned to his door.
"it's open."
they called towards the door.
the door creaked open and there was....
bakugou?
"bakug-"
kaminari never got to finish their sentence. bakugou shut the door with his foot and walked over to him.
bakugou slumped onto kaminari's bed.
"i came to see how you were."
that was all bakugou said. kaminari nodded with a sigh.
"i'm fine--"
bakugou shook his head.
"you were almost crying the last time i saw you."
kaminari looked at bakugou, and there he was - raising his eyebrows in disbelief. bakugou nodded his head towards the bed. kaminari stood up and sat next to bakugou.
they sighed. "it's hard," he muttered. bakugou nodded.
"i know," bakugou mumbled, "trust me, i fuckin' know."
kaminari nodded and leaned their head on bakugou's shoulder.
I'm gonna try and get a day ahead on my word count, in case I have a hard mental or physical health day this month. It will give me a little breathing room, and I feel like I'll have the energy after work today. Wish me luck!
