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pinequarry · 3 months ago

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Episode 4 - Valentine’s Day

Hi!

Just a small note to those who aren't aware, this entire work is organised and better edited on Ao3. If you would like to read, search "Pinequarry" on Ao3 or click the link in the sequential post to this one. Enjoy this episode, and we are so glad to roll it out to you, even if it is many weeks late!

Clover

Clover, Indigo, Felix, Valentine, and Clara sat in Felix’s living room. An old grandfather clock ticked away in the hallway very loudly. In Front of them on the coffee table, and a tea tray with a tea set and a plate of biscuits. Clover nibbled on a malted milk.

“Three out of ten,” Dumitria said. She held up the newest amulet, the amulet of poison transferal, which his sister, Indie, and Felix had recovered. Dumitria placed it in a case with the rest of the amulets.

“Next is the Amulet of Aligism.” She said “This one isn’t too far from home”

“What does aligism mean?” Val asked.

“The ability to understand any language.” Dumitria responded. “This one isn’t hidden too far from home; we could be stood right on top of it, and we wouldn’t even know it”

“What do you mean?” Felix asked his grandmother.

Her tall horns shimmered in the lamplight “It’s hidden in a set of secret tunnels under the town. All we need now is someone to go get it!” She clapped her hands and rubbed them together.

Clover liked the sound of this, and hadn’t experienced anything like it yet, so he really wanted to give it a go.

“I’ll go,” Clara said from the other side of the room.

“No, you won’t be,” Dumitria said. She handed her the case containing the three amulets. “I want you to take these, and try to get them to work.”

Clover hesitated.

“I'll go,” He said.

Everyone looked at him in shock.

“No, you’re not.” Indie said.

“He can if he wants to.” Dumitria argued.

“He’s too young!” Indigo argued back.

“It’s not a tricky one, just… a bit of a maze really” Dumitria said nonchalantly.

“...I’ll go with him then,” Indigo said.

Dumitria smiled. Clover was excited to see what it was like out there finding the amulets, even if it was just a “simple maze”.

“You two come over in the morning - Clara you come too to get the amulets, Felix will be here anyway. and Valentine, have a lovely birthday.” Dumitria said, as everyone except her and Felix stood up preparing to go home. Clover could see Valentine blushing at the mention of her birthday.

“We should do something!” Felix said.

“No, it’s fine, don’t bother.” Val said, smiling bashfully.

Clover saw Felix wink at Clara, then he smiled at him and Indie.

“You pair’d best be back in time to see Val on her 16th!” Felix said to him and Indie.

“Please Felix, don’t do anything my mum will make a big fuss about it anyway.” Valentine protested.

They all made their way to the door, and after saying goodbye to each other found that they all walked the same way home. Indie and Clover were the first to depart from the group and made their way across the street. Val, who was their neighbour, crossed at the same time as them, and walked down a few metres to her house, and Clara stayed on the other side, and walked toward her house.

They entered the front door of their house and both kicked their shoes off into the side in the foyer. Their mum walked through the foyer from a room on the side. “You okay?” She asked before coming up and giving Clover a peck on the cheek. “Put those shoes away tidy.” She said and disappeared through an arch into the kitchen. Indie put both their sets of shoes into a shoe cubby and they made their ways upstairs, splitting off to enter their own separate bedrooms.

Valentine

Beep-Beep.

Valentine stirred, groaning. She swung her arm over her body and reached for her phone to turn it off, or put her alarm on snooze. She stared at it, and checked the time.

4:00, It read, and underneath it were zero notifications. Val wondered if everyone else woke up to no messages on their birthday. Maybe it was too early, but then again, she knew some of Indie’s friends stayed up until midnight to text each other “Happy Birthday”.

Valentine sat up, and put her feet on the ground next to her bed. She rubbed her eyes and tried to make out where her bathroom door was from her bed, and she could just about see it in the murky october morning light. She padded across her pink carpet, and pulled the light cord as she stepped into her en suite. It wasn’t very big, and there was barely enough room to move around, but there was a small standing shower, a sink and a toilet. She showered, and made sure to wash her hair as thoroughly as she could. Once she was done, she put a little teeth-whitening device in her mouth, put mousse in her hair, and did her skincare and put on some makeup. Nothing too crazy, just some foundation, concealer, mascara, and lipgloss. Natural. Nice.

She removed the device from her mouth, and brushed her teeth. She brushed her hair, and used the handle of it to make her curls more defined. Once they dried, they looked shiny and sleek.

She walked out of her bathroom and to her drawers, where she picked out her most expensive pair of pyjamas to change into. They were pink, with thick, vertical stripes in a similar colour. She put on the button-down shirt, and the shorts to match, and then went back into her drawer to find the sleep mask that went with it. Then she went to her mirror, and crouched down so that she could see her whole body, because usually the top of her head wasn’t visible in the mirror. She looked good, and now she was sure of that, she could get back into bed.

Around half an hour later, Valentine heard her door being opened. She was wearing an eye mask, so she couldn't see for sure what was going on, but she was so used to the routine by now that she knew exactly who it was and what they were doing. It was her mother, holding a tripod and a ring light, followed by her brother Toby, who was probably carrying piles of presents. Valentine made sure to shift over, so that when her Mum started filming, she would look like she was sleeping peacefully, but not so deeply that it looked too real. It had to be picturesque. She heard the sound of wrapping paper, as the many boxes were placed around her. The empty ones, to fill up space in the frame while she opened her actual presents. The ones that got sent to her from various sponsors. This was commonplace, because her Mum hated it when all the presents her family members, or in rare cases, her friends, had sent her had all different “ugly” wrapping paper on them; so Valentine opened all of her sponsored gifts, and the ones from her Mum and her brothers here in the morning, because they were all wrapped the same.

She heard the sound of her Mum fumbling with the ring light, and through her mask she could feel the light of it as it turned on. She heard a quiet bip-bip of the camera starting to film.

“Valentine,” Her mum said gently. “Wake up!”

Valentine sat up, yawning theatrically and pushing up her mask. She tried her best not to wince when the brightness of the ring light hit her eyes, and she gasped at the sight of all her presents - but she could see a vague look of disgust on her Mum's face.

“Sorry babes, can you do that again? It was a little forced.” She said.

“Okay.” Valentine led back down again, and put the mask over her eyes again. The rigmarole began again, and this time she tried to appear ever so slightly more realistically asleep. Her Mum smiled from behind the camera.

Her brother came in, carrying a paper party hat and a large red velvet cake. Her favourite. There were sixteen candles on it, and it was iced with Valentine in pink piping and little pink hearts. She smiled wide, thanking her Mum and Toby profusely, and blew out the candles through her teeth, still smiling to make any photos of this moment as good as they could be. Then she opened her presents; A gift set of skincare products from some local business in Avonport, some silver charm necklaces and bracelets, several other products from big and small local companies, and finally a wad of cash. She wasn’t sure if it was real, and she didn’t really care to check. It didn’t matter.

Her Mum clicked the camera off, and gave Valentine a powdery kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday darling. We’ll go open the rest of your presents downstairs, ‘kay?”

“Okay - Mum?” “Yeah?” “Is Teddy gonna come back from Uni for the day? Cos I texted him the other day and he said he was gonna, but I was just wondering if he’d said anything to you.” “Oh honey, I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything about it to me, which is a shame, because now the photos we take today are gonna be so asymmetrical - actually, I think we’ll just have you in the photos and Toby can just stand behind the camera, so it’s a little more clear what we’re meant to be looking at.” She pinched Valentine’s cheek gently. “My superstar.” The way she talked about Toby, as if he wasn’t even there, made Valentine feel a bit weird, but she pushed past it. She knew her Mum had good intentions for her children. Toby and Teddy had all of the profit from the videos they had made as soon as they turned eighteen, and since Toby was sixteen, he hadn’t been featured heavily in any of the videos; only in small parts or group photos. Her Mum fully intended to give Valentine the money she’d saved up from the videos, and half of all of the profit went straight into Valentine’s bank account, per her request. Despite all of the filming, her mother was a good woman. And this was just how she facilitated that.

Indigo Indie left the house with Clover the next day to a cold, frosty morning. They met Clara at the end of their driveway, and they all walked down to Felix’s house. Indie was weary about taking Clover out, but he seemed so keen on going, she didn’t want to deny him of it. And it was clear that this was their life now.

They made it up the driveway and Indie rang the doorbell, which was hastily opened by Dumitria. She led them upstairs to the door room where she offered them tea.

Clover and Indigo sat down on two antique chairs in the corner. Felix leaned on the doorway and they watched as Dumitria packed each amulet into a smaller container that Clara could fit into her bag. Every now and then Indie noticed herself making eye contact with Felix from across the room. Clara then left with Felix to go to a nearby pub and set up a little surprise for Val’s birthday.

“Okie dokie then” Dumitria said. “I hope you haven’t worn your best clothes, as this is going to be a smelly one”

Indie and Clover looked at eachother. Clover looked very excited.

“The amulet is hidden somewhere in a maze of sorts under Pinequarry, and I have no doubt that a creature has moved in down there to make your lives a lot harder. You're going to have to enter through the sewers unfortunately, so that does mean going down through the sewer’s entrance in the industrial site. In that case, I've got you both pliers so you can break any locks!” She smiled at them as if this was meant to be a piece of cake. Well, it must be easier than the last quest Inigo went on.

Dumitria opened the door and they stepped in. They came out at the back of some building in the woods. It was old and rusted. After further inspection, she saw a pot-hole-covered road beside them, and above them a dual carriageway. Just beyond the building, at the end of the road, was a large, metal gate. It was old, covered in nettles and led directly into the industrial site. Well, not directly, as according to a sign just inside of the gate, there was another half a mile of country road before one even made it to the main site.

They approached the gate. A big , red, rusted, sign read; “DO NOT ENTER. PRIVATE PROPERTY”. They of course ignored this sign and used their pliers to cut open the lock and waltz right in.

The industrial site was partially closed. It was split up into a lumber yard, quarry, a factory sort of area, and warehouses. There was also the main entrance to the sewers. The site was the same size as the rest of the town. Most of it was abandoned (The factories and warehouses) But the quarry and lumber yard were still open, although talk of the town suggested they might close any minute. There was an old train station right at the very back too, but was disconnected due to a landslide which buried the tunnel leading to a small city nearby called Fairwater Port. Now, anything leaving the site went out in large red lorries with the words “Pinequarry Quarry” or “Pinequarry Lumber” on them. Clover always used to comment on how silly “Pinequarry Quarry” sounded.

Finally, after walking along the long road through the woods, they made it to the site. It was the section with all the abandoned warehouses. They were huge, and rotten. They looked like their souls had been sucked out of them. They had to sneak around a bit, due to builders around the place surveying the site to be demolished, but eventually made their way to a wide alley between a warehouse and a large brick building. The alley sloped down into a concrete ditch. In the middle there was a small ditch carved out, where clean water was flowing down the slope into a large concrete tunnel. The tunnel was completely cut off by large prison-like bars. Indie tried to see if she could squeeze through the gap in the bars, but couldn’t fit; so they decided to look for another entrance.

Eventually, they came across a small brick structure. There was a metal door on the front of the building and a keep out sign. The door was locked shut so they used their pliers to cut it open. Inside was a dark room. From one end there was a small amount of red light coming up from the ground, so after turning her torch on to find a light switch, then turning on the light switch, Indie saw that the light was coming up from the bottom of a very deep metal staircase. They looked at eachother then made their ways down, Indie first and Clover behind her.

Clara

“You’re gonna fall, that ladder is tipping.” Clara said.

“Well, grab it then!” Felix hissed, from his position in the beams of the ceiling. Clara rolled her eyes, and went to roll up her sleeves for the fourth time this morning, before remembering (for the fourth time this morning) that her sleeves were connected to some fingerless gloves, so she couldn’t.

“Hello?!” Felix said, swaying more dramatically on his ladder. “Help!”

Clara put her hands on the ladder, stabilising it.

“You are a child.”

“Oh yeah?” Felix said, looking down at her. “Then you get up here and put these up. My arms are tired anyway.”

“Okay.” Clara said, cockily.

Felix clambered down, and waved his arms towards the ladder, ushering Clara up it.

“I’ll go up the ladder!” Margot shouted from the corner booth her and Lottie were sitting at, watching something on Margot’s phone.

“You will not. You wouldn’t be any good at putting streamers up anyway.” Clara teased.

“Hey!” Lottie chimed in. “I made those streamers! We are very useful.”

Clara smiled and started up the ladder. She felt it wobbling as she climbed, and she felt as if she were climbing into another altitude. Once she reached the top, she reached out to fix a streamer to a beam -

And then she fell. Down, down, down, and Clara was sure she was going to break one of her limbs when she hit the ground. But instead of hitting the ground, Felix ran forward and caught her. She was still winded, but she was intact.

“Thanks, Felix.” She said as she got to her feet. “Maybe you should stick to going up the ladder.”

“That’s it?” Felix said. “I don’t even get a sorry? Maybe even a, you were right?”

“Nah.” Clara said, grinning. “In fact, you should be thanking me for making you look so good at ladder climbing.” She walked back over to a small table in the corner, and went back to her two amulets and her notebook. She liked this pub, and she was very grateful that they had rented out a room to them, even if it was only going to be the seven of them here tonight. They didn’t even have alcohol, because Lottie and Margot were here, and Clover was showing up with Indie later; But Clara didn’t really care, she didn’t drink anyway. It was only Felix who did, and she imagined Val and Indie would follow suit.

She buried her head in her notebook and tried to go over what she had written as best she could. There wasn’t much to read anyway:

Crystal charging didn’t work

Incense? Didn’t work

Spells?

She reached into her leather messenger bag, and pulled out a large book that she had brought with her. It was another Voyant one - Clara had picked it up while she was looking for her copy of GHOSTS and other spiritual correspondences that seemed to have gone missing. Weird. This one was Channelling your power: the key to jumpstarting your own magical ability. So far Clare Voyant hadn’t taught her much of anything, but Clara thought it was worth trying this one just in case there was anything that she could glean about “jumpstarting” a magical amulet that was full of magical ability. She picked up the illusionist amulet that they had found at the fair, and flipped to the index of the book. The only thing that looked right to her was magical catalysts, so she flicked to that.

Many items can be used to enhance one’s magical ability. It is important first to know where your power manifests from, and then one can move forward in deciding what object you wish to use. Common items include wands, amulets, poppets and charms.

Clara didn’t think that was very helpful. She knew her power source was the Moon, but considering it was the middle of the day, that wasn’t much use to her. She did write Moon ability in her book before continuing to read.

Historically, some have experimented with demonic intervention to create power catalysts. This is highly dangerous, and in many countries it is illegal. Once these catalysts are made, the demon one may choose to ask for help will likely be inclined to stay around, as without their presence the catalyst will no longer work. In order to reactivate such a power source, one would have to find a similar magical charge that carries such a similar energy that the original spell can be replicated. Despite being legal, it is highly dangerous and not recommended by anyone unless performed by an extremely skilled magic user.

There we go, Clara thought to herself. She read the passage over and over again, until she felt as if the words were tattooed behind her eyes. Magical charge? What did that even mean? She supposed that meant that she had to be able to use her powers to make the amulets work again, and so she buried her head back in the first chapter of the book and started reading.

Margot slipped into the booth and slid next to Clara. “Whatcha reading?” “A book,” Clara said, trying very hard to stay concentrated on the words she was reading. “Go away.”

“Is it a Clare Voyant one?” Margot asked.

“What-? Yes. Why?” Clara said.

“Because I have one of hers in my room, one about ghosts.” Margot replied. “...Did you steal one of my books?” Clara said, glaring at her sister.

“Maybe.” Margot said. Then she slipped away.

Clara shook her head, and then she went back to reading. When she was done, she concluded that the only way to activate these amulets was either to try and use her powers, which in her fifteen years of life had yet to work, or to sell her soul to a demon - just like Ophir did.

Valentine

Once she had opened her presents, and taken photos in front of them all, she felt a little lighter. She went upstairs to her room to put on some clothes, and she settled on a little pink dress with lots of flowy tulle ribbons, and a thick pink headband to match, along with some strappy pink platform heels. Something nice, in case they decided to take more videos and photos. She went back into her bathroom and she put on some more visible makeup. Then she went downstairs, and sprawled on the sofa. She was bored. Well, she didn’t really want her Mum to come in and ask her to film some more stuff, because she didn’t want to do that either. But at the age that Valentine was, there wasn’t really anything she could do with her presents, other than wear them, or use them tonight in the shower. Other than beauty products and clothes and jewellery she only really got money. She supposed she could walk into town and buy herself a hot chocolate, but that would be risking ruining her dress, and anyways, her Mum didn’t want her leaving the house because she needed to be around and ready to film. So now she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself.

She went back upstairs and just wandered, tracing her hand along the bannisters and the walls. She could hear a faint sound coming from Toby’s room, and she assumed that he was editing the videos they’d filmed that morning. Then she walked back downstairs, and decided to sneak some icing from her cake while nobody was around. She thought about messaging the groupchat that Her, Clara, Indie, and Felix were in, but she didn’t really know what she would say. She was happy though, as the group had pinged a couple times later in the morning with Happy birthday Images, and Indie had posted a photo of the seven of them with the caption Happy birthday @Val_ley.girl_x, we all hope you have a fabulous day and get all the presents you want <333.

It was at times like these that Valentine wished that she could leave the house, even if it was just to do something with Clara. She knew they were going to plan something, and she was really glad they hadn’t, because she never explained to them that she wasn’t allowed to leave the house unless her Mum said that it was okay, plus she knew that Indie and Clover were on one of those amulet-getting jobs anyway. Valentine wondered when she was gonna get a chance to go on one of those missions, even though they seemed pretty dangerous and kinda gross.

She lay back down on the sofa, and stared up at the ceiling, and for a moment she shut her eyes and thought about all of the things she could be doing instead of waiting for her Mum to ask her to film another video. Then she felt herself dozing off, away in a dream that they had thrown her a big party and everyone at school had decided to come, and nobody was calling her names, and treating her like a second class citizen, and it was all perfect…

“Valentine, darling?” Her Mum called from the kitchen. “Can you come here and film something really quick?”

Felix

Felix stepped off of the ladder and stood back to admire his work. He had (single handedly mind you) put up almost all of the decorations. Clara had blown up maybe four balloons, and the girls had put little cloths on some of the tables, but the balloons that Clara went out to buy, the streamers that the girls made, the banner that Indie and Clover had put together, and all of the other decorations that Felix had helped Indie make had been put up by him. And it looked really good. He’d fallen off the ladder twice, but that was Clara’s fault for not holding the ladder like she said she would; she was busy working on the amulets, which he supposed was fair enough.

He went behind the bar and grabbed himself a coke. Full sugar. Indie said the diet one was horrid for you, and it was worse than just having normal sugar, so Felix thought he’d give it a go. He took a big swig - and immediately spit it out into the sink.

“What are you doing?” Clara said from her little table. “You’re supposed to swallow the drink you know.” She chuckled to herself at her joke, and Felix could hear the girls giggle from their booth in the corner. “It’s vile,” Felix argued. “It’s so sweet.”

“Have a diet one then.” Clara said. Felix had noticed that since their little group of four had begun, Clara had gone from being distanced and quiet to being really snarky, specifically to Felix. He knew she was joking, though. At least he was pretty sure she was joking. She wasn’t mean, Felix knew that, she was just…moody.

Felix tipped the full sugar coke into the sink, and grabbed himself a diet one. He left the bar and went to sit on the table in front of it. He took a big swig, and did one of those cartoonish gasps after. He could see a big pile of presents that were behind the table in the corner of his eye. He looked at all of the different paper they had used; Blue paper with green stars on it from felix, Brown paper from Clara and Margot, except Margot had doodled all over hers, and Yellow paper with Teddy Bears from Lottie.

“Should we put the presents out?” Felix said. “Cause they’re all back here, and I have a feeling I’m gonna forget to do it.” “Yeah,” Margot said from her booth in the corner. Felix could see Lottie nodding enthusiastically as well. “Can we help?”

“You guys can do it if you want,” Felix offered. “I’m not bothered.”

The girls jumped up, and carried the presents onto the long table at the front. They smoothed out the tablecloth, and Piled the presents around. Lottie’s on top of Clara’s, and Margot’s on top of Felix’s. They left space for Indie and Clover’s presents, but as Felix noted that his phone buzzed. He checked it to a text from his Nan.

From: Nan - Indie and Clover might be late…Love you…

Ominous, but that was just the way that his Nan texted.

The girls had left space in the middle of the table for the chocolate cake they had bought. Felix had left it in the fridge and decided that he wouldn’t put it out until Val was on her way.

“Guys,” Felix announced, “Indie and Clover are probably gonna be late, my Nan’s just messaged me about it.”

“Oh, okay then.” Clara said, looking up from her book. “So what do we do in the meantime?”

Clover

The stairs went on for ages. It was like they were descending into the centre of the earth. It spiralled down into the depths, and all you could hear was the clanking of their shoes on the metal. There was occasionally the sound of water, or the growl of some sort of machine.

Eventually they reached the bottom.

There was another metal door, not locked, which led them into a smelly brick tunnel.

It stunk.

On the ground in the middle was a small cutout where water was flowing down. The ceiling was curved and every now and then there were arched supports extending just lower than the ceiling. Between the arches were little lights which flickered on sometimes but were mostly off, so they had to use their torches to see. The tunnel went on for a while. They both had to put the neck of their jumpers over their mouth and nose to keep the smell of raw sewage out.

They walked for god knows how long. Below them, dirty water flowed down a cutout in the floor and every now and again, there would be a pipe with water flowing out it and into the tunnel they were walking in.

On their walk they came across multiple rats, rubbish, three shopping trolleys and these weird slug like creatures with one eye about the side of Clover’s leg which were always found in pairs.

They eventually came across a door. It was like the door they had come through and had a big warning sign on it. Indie turned the handle. They were in a new sewage tunnel. This one didn’t smell bad as there was no dirty sewage flowing down the middle so they could uncover their noses and mouths. From the ceiling hung metal lights which dimly lit up the corridor and flickered on and off every now and again. This one was even more different to the last one though for one reason. The walls were covered in odd glowing green sacks with green slime spread over them.

Indigo

The green sacks glowed a strange, dim, yellow light, and they moved around very slightly. The ground was covered in the green slime. Indie was reminded of Dumitira saying that some creature had probably moved in, and she was obviously right. They followed the tunnel up until they found something. The tunnel opened up into a large room with big tanks of water. Everything was covered in even more sacks and goo, which was even thicker here. Indigo noticed something move behind one of the tanks, and cautiously made her way over, Clover behind her. They peeked around to see a giant, green and yellow snail. It had long, droopy antennae, a thick squelchy body, and a spiralling shell with large spikes at the top, which were covered in the same green slime. It didn’t notice Indie or Clover, and moved around with a vile squelching sound. It slowly made its way to a corner, which was clean of any goo. Clover leaned over further than Indie to see what was happening. They watched as the snail seemingly laid a clutch of eggs. They looked just like the glowing sacks around the rest of the place. This snail had turned the sewers into a giant nesting ground. The pair backed away from the snail and looked around to see if they could find anything resembling an amulet. They found a large wooden chest in the centre of the room. It was covered in slime, but when they looked, they saw there was no lock on it. Upon opening it they found it to be empty. Indie decided to move it out the way to reveal a hole in the ground. It had a coating of slime over the top.

“What's in there?” Clover asked.

“Probably the amulet…” She responded.

Indie rolled up her sleeve and hesitantly reached down through the sludge to see what she could find. The goo was cold, but also warm in certain places, which made Indie gag. It had a weird consistency that felt like snot. She shut her eyes and reached further in until she felt her fingers close around something hard and cold. Her hand returned holding an amulet. They grinned at each other, and retreated back to the door, as quickly and quietly as they could. They crept back through the smelly sewage tunnel to the stairs and made their way home.

“I should probably call Felix.” Indie said, as soon as they made it back to the surface. She grabbed her phone with her non-slimy hand and clicked the call button. It rang once, twice -

Yeahllo?

“Felix, It’s me Indie. We’ve got the amulet.”

How much longer are you gonna be? Clara wants to go get Val.

“Not long, we’re In the sewer tunnels right now.”

You’re where?

“Yeah, that’s where the amulet ended up being.”

…Ew.

“We’re on our way home now.” Are you gonna portal back then?

“Probably. You can tell Clara she can go get Val now, if you want.”

Cool. Okay, I’ll tell her. Bye. “Bye.” Indie heard the phone click, and knew the call had ended.

She turned to Clover. “We’d better make a move for home.”

Clara

They had done practically everything they could think of to pass the time. After Felix finished his diet coke, he started throwing it around with the girls in an impromptu game of catch, but then some coke residue spilled onto Lottie’s head, so they stopped doing that pretty quickly. It was another hour and a half before Clara had gotten involved, because she was too busy studying her books. Eventually, she felt as if her head was about to explode, and so she shut the book, defeated. She really didn’t know what to do with herself now. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried to get around it, she couldn’t seem to find a way to get these damned amulets to work without using magic. Something she was supposed to have, but didn’t.

Stupid Family. Clara thought to herself. It was their fault. Not her mother’s, obviously, but her grandfather’s. It was him that did this to her. Made her the way she was. He was sick, and Clara blamed him and every other Rook that came before him for all of the pressure that was on her to fix this whole amulet situation.

She noticed that during this dramatic internal monologue, Felix had come to sit beside her.

“What you reading?” He asked. Clara shot a look at him that said, don’t.

“What?” Felix said. “I wanna know.” Clara sighed and flashed him the cover. “It’s a Voyant one.”

“Who?”

“Voyant- Do you not know who Clare Voyant is? We read, like, three of her books in year 8 parazoology.”

“Oh, I never paid attention in that class,” Felix said. “Obviously I don’t need to know how to use magic, do I?”

Clara felt as if she had put her foot in it a little bit, considering Felix’s whole lack of horns issue. “Can I ask-” “Yes, I did it, yes my powers don’t work anymore, no I don’t really want to talk about it.” Felix said, cutting Clara off. “I’m assuming you wanted to ask about my bandana - or my horns, I guess.”

Clara sat in silence for a while. She really had put her foot in it now.

“You know, when I met you at the carnival, I didn’t like you very much,” Clara said. She kicked herself mentally. She didn’t need to be telling him that. She was blunt, everybody said so, and Clara had learned over the years that it was better for her to just keep her mouth shut sometimes. “But I don’t think I feel that way anymore. I don’t know, you’re not this…overly pushy, drugged-up loser washup that I thought you were. You’re…pretty cool, I guess.” Felix breathed a huge sigh, and then started laughing, really laughing, until he was doubled over with his forehead on the table, shoulders shaking. He was laughing so hard that no sound came out. Eventually, he straightened.

“Oh my god, that’s a relief. I thought you hated me. Thanks for saying that. For the record, you’re “pretty cool” too.” Felix said.

Clara smiled. Felix reached out his hand, and they did a tentative high-five.

Clara looked up at the clock on the wall. “I think I’m going to go get Val now. Indie and Clover should be back soon, right?” “Yeah, they should be.” Felix said, and just then his phone rang.

“Yeahllo?” He said, putting the phone up to his ear. “Indie, hi. How much longer are you gonna be? Clara wants to go get Val…You’re where?...Ew. Are you gonna portal back then? Cool. Okay, I’ll tell her. Bye.” He hung up and turned to Clara. “You can go now, I think. They’re on their way home from my nan’s.”

Clara

As Clara walked up Valentine’s street, she shivered. It was really cold tonight, seeing as the rest of this autumn had been so warm. Anyone would think it was still summer, If they didn’t live here. Which was a shame, because Clara liked winter. She liked snow. She hoped it would get colder soon, but she doubted it. Shame.

She swung open Val’s front gate, and walked up her front path. Her house had all different kinds of decorations on it, and they were all pink or velvety red. Clara raised her fist to the door and gave it a tentative tap.

There was no response, at first, so Clara knocked again, this time a little louder. The door opened and a woman stood behind it. She had long curly hair, but not like Val’s - it was a much lighter brown, verging on blonde, and she was much paler than Val. This woman was clearly white, but had used fake tan to get the olive skin tone she had currently. She was wearing loose jeans and an off-the-shoulder shirt that looked like something Indie would wear, except it was quite clear to Clara that this outfit had far more effort put into it than this woman would like to let on. She smiled warmly, showing her teeth, but it did not seem very genuine at all.

“Hello.” Clara started. “Are you Mrs Jones?”

“Yes dear, who are you?” Her smile did not waver, which all but confirmed to Clara that it was not a real one. It was evident she didn’t want guests right now.

“Uh, I’m Clara - Clara Rook? I’m one of Valentine’s friends, we’ve planned a party and I’ve just come to get her.” “Oh dear. No, she can’t leave today. We have so much to film.” “...Film? Film what?” Clara asked.

“Have you not seen our profile online? We’re huge. That’s our job; and I need Valentine around to help me film some things for her birthday. It’s very important that we get engagement on big days like these.”

“Can I not just take her for a few hours? It’s the evening, surely you can’t have that much to film-” “My answer is no, if you want to see her you can always see her in school when-” A flash of pink sped through the door, and suddenly Valentine was in front of her mother, dressed in a pink dress and strappy heels. She grinned at Clara, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the front garden.

“Uh, hi, Val.” Clara said, as they were running down the street.

“I heard everything.” She stopped running suddenly and pulled Clara into a tight hug. “I love you guys so much.”

Clara relented, and let Val hug her for a few more seconds before she pulled away.

“Happy Birthday, Val.”

Valentine

The party was everything Valentine could’ve ever asked for. All of her friends were there, and they had all made decorations for her, none of that custom-ordered matching crap she was used to. They had baked her a cake, and they had each bought her different gifts that felt more personal than anything her family had ever bought her. Margot had bought her a little crow teddy - “It’s a rook,” She had said. “You can put it in your room somewhere, and it will remind you of me and Clara!” And Lottie had hand-made her a little friendship bracelet with plastic beads. They might as well have been diamonds. Clara followed a similar track, buying Valentine a beautiful black and pink lace necklace, and Felix had made her a pink phone charm, with Lottie’s help. Clover and Indie had hand-made her cards, but they also made banners and streamers that covered the room. She had never felt so grateful

They spent hours dancing and singing, and at one point they started playing all of those silly children’s party games, laughing until their sides ached. It was around eleven at night when they decided to go home for the night. The girls were curled up in a booth asleep by then, and everyone else was sitting in a circle chatting for around an hour before Indie stood up and said her mum was expecting her home twenty minutes ago. They all locked up the pub, and walked home together in the cool night air. Felix was first, and he said he was just going to sleep in his caravan at the fair, because it was closer and he was tired. The rest of them slowly dispersed into their homes until it was just Clara, Valentine and Margot.

“Thank you so much for today, Clara.” Valentine said at her front gate. “From the bottom of my heart. You’ve made my day, you really have.” “Oh, you’re welcome. I guess this means we’re proper friends now.”

“Yeah. I’d say you’re my best friend, Clara.” “...Does that mean I can stop doing your homework for you now?” Clara joked. Valentine giggled, and started to walk back towards her house.

“I don’t know about that.” She said, “But, seriously, thank you. For everything, not just today. I don’t know where I’d be without you, because you showed me kindness that nobody else had back in september.”

“It’s no big deal,” Clara said. “I think I needed you just as much. See you Monday?” “See you Monday.” Val said, and with that she went back into her house, blissful and so, so tired.

#pinequarry #fantasy #literature #my writing #book blog #authors #ao3 #books #my ocs #author #writers #writers on tumblr #writers on ao3

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scruffyplayssonic · 7 months ago

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Are the ArchieSonic comics actually an 80's/90's syndicated cartoon? Episode 64 - 65: Two Multi-part Finale (part 9: Sonic Universe #50)

Welcome back to my investigation of how Archie Comics’ Sonic the Hedgehog series was actually a syndicated cartoon from the 80’s and 90’s!

Okay, so last time we were here I talked about everything leading up to the end of the pre-boot era of Archie’s Sonic the Hedgehog comics - the rise of King Naugus, the return of the Death Egg, Sally’s tragic sacrifice, the disbandment of the Freedom Fighters, the debut of Team Freedom, Team Fighters, and the Secret Freedom Fighters, and how a legal dispute between Archie Comics and former writer Ken Penders resulted in hundreds of characters being removed from the series and the current writer and artists having to throw out what they were working on and start again from scratch. So what happened next?

Well, the story picked up again after Endangered Species in Sonic Universe #50, where Eggman was being a Mr Grumpypants. You may recall that in my recap I mentioned that Team Freedom had stopped an Eggman attack on the city, unaware that the Secret Freedom Fighters had been secretly helping from the shadows.

The people of New Mobotropolis may not have noticed that there was another Metal Sonic defending them, but Eggman did. Deciding to fight fire with fire, he whipped up another Metal Sonic to take out Shard, this one also equipped with a power gem core. Eggman also had specially programmed this Metal Sonic to learn and adapt, but also to resist any temptations he may have had to disobey Eggman’s orders.

Team Fighters then had a brief cameo appearance, discussing what went down back at Albion as well as their unexpected run-in with Shard. Tails was at ease with Shard getting a second shot at life, but Sonic wasn’t so sure they could trust him.

Sure enough, at that very moment Nicole was under attack from Shard…

…in a digital game of chess. Curse his sudden yet inevitable betrayal! But no, Shard and Nicole were just enjoying a casual game together, as Shard didn’t think there was much anyone else he could be social with besides the other Secret Freedom Fighters. Of course, we need to also keep in mind that the only other member of that team who hadn’t now been removed from the series was Silver, and he was currently unavailable. More on that later. So Shard and Nicole were just hanging out and having a chill time, and Shard was maybe developing a little bit of a crush?

But before this tantalising new ship could be explored any further the two were alerted that another Metal Sonic had gotten into the city and was holding someone hostage.

Geeze, dude. Hasn’t Antoine been through enough? Well apparently Metal Sonic didn’t think so, and he wanted to finish the job his previous model had started. Shard managed to convince him to take their discussion outside though, and an epic Metal Sonic v Metal Sonic battle commenced.

At first the two seemed pretty evenly matched, but then Metal Sonic started using memories from his previous models’ defeats to counter Shard’s attacks.

Shard recognised that this newest Metal Sonic had a spark of independence like him, and tried to convince him to abandon Eggman and live his own life.

No luck though, Eggman’s anti-rebellion programming was too good.

But fortunately Shard still had his healing factor, and was able to goad Metal Sonic into monologuing long enough for his arm to repair itself.

Metal Sonic was able to shear off Shard’s arm with his burst shield, and rather than letting Shard potentially steal his power gem core, elected to blow both of them up instead.

Oh man, Shard looks in pretty bad shape here. With his power gem damaged it was not clear whether or not he would be able to recover from this ordeal. And the thing that hurts the most is we never found out what was going to happen to him, because this is Shard’s final appearance in the series, ever. As far as I know Ian Flynn has not yet revealed what Shard’s fate would have been, and I imagine we’ll have to wait for his planned “Lost Hedgehog Tales” project to find out.

Metal Sonic, on the other hand, was back up and running again almost immediately, and Eggman had a mysterious new assignment (and partner) for him.

Well well well, things are starting to look a bit crossover-y in here. But I’ll get into that a little more next time, when I look at the final issue of pre-boot ArchieSonic: Sonic the Hedgehog #247.

#archiesonic syndicated

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ear-worthy · 1 year ago

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Spotify: Discover This Podcast On The Eurovision Song Contest

The Eurovision Song Contest, often known simply as Eurovision, is an international song competition organized annually by the European Broadcasting Union (EBU), featuring entries from primarily European countries. Each participating country submits an original song to be performed on live television and radio, transmitted to national broadcasters via the EBU's Eurovision and Euroradio networks, with competing countries then casting votes for the other countries' songs to determine a winner. Based on the Sanremo Music Festival held in Italy since 1951, Eurovision has been held annually since 1956 (apart from 2020), making it the longest-running annual international televised music competition, and one of the world's longest-running television programs. As of 2022, 52 countries have participated at least once. Each participating broadcaster sends one original song of three minutes duration or less to be performed live by a singer or group of up to six people aged 16 or older.

Spotify just released the newest episode of its podcast series, Spotify: Discover This and in this episode, listeners can learn about all things Eurovision that garners up to 200 million viewers (almost twice the size of the Super Bowl audience in the U.S.).

You can listen to the full episode here, and check out exclusive footage from on-the-ground in Liverpool on YouTube and Spotify. Last year, rap group Kalush Orchestra won the title representing their home country of Ukraine with a soaring power anthem. The contest winners are usually awarded the honor of hosting the following year’s event, but the continuing war meant the UK, as runners-up, was invited to host on Ukraine’s behalf. As this year’s competitors prepare to compete in the city of Liverpool this week, Spotify podcast host Lea Palmieri caught up with several artists, including Ukrainian music duo Tvorchi, UK’s Mae Muller, Israel’s Noa Kirel, Italian artist Marco Mengoni and Swedish superstar Loreen, who could become only the second artist to win Eurovision twice. Lea also speaks to the Editor-at-Large of Esquire Magazine, Dave Holmes, who offers light-hearted insights on the competition's popularity and peculiarities. Passionate Eurovision fans share what they are looking for in a Eurovision winner while Spotify’s Music Team Lead for Eastern and Southern Europe, Mateusz Smolka, reveals unique Eurovision insights from Spotify streaming data. See below for interview highlights in the episode.

Dave Holmes on how Eurovision Started “Eurovision started in 1956 as Europe was recovering from World War Two…trying to find activities to do together to sort of reunify. And how better to do that through music. It was just, you know, artists singing songs. There was a voting body. That was it. And over time, it got bigger and flashier and campier and it started to produce some stars. ABBA came from it in the early years…Celine Dion..and it became more of a camp Super Bowl.” Dave Holmes on why America has not caught on to the phenomenon yet “It's really difficult to explain how massive the Eurovision Song Contest is everywhere in the world, really but America. The best way that I can put it for an American audience is that it's like the Miss America pageant and American Idol and the Super Bowl, but sort of gay and just all together with just an extra little bit of glitter on top. America does not know what to do with the tone that Eurovision creates. It's sincere, but it's also like 10% making fun of itself at any given moment. It's just it's. It's a tone that we as Americans do not know how to do. We're either fully ironic or we're fully sincere. And it's just we can't do it.” Tvorchi band member, Jeffrey Kenny on what fans can expect from Ukraine this and a special shout-out to the UK for hosting. “Ukraine has been represented in the past years with folk songs, and it was a great representation. But this year we will show the country from another side with progressive electronic music, and we will show everyone how different Ukraine can be…we would like to say a huge thank you to the United Kingdom for hosting and all the support they've offered. They have really created a lot of initiatives to really bring the culture and feel of Ukraine into Liverpool, and they have done an amazing job with that.” Loreen on what Eurovision Song Contest means to her. “Basically, that was the community that accepted me for who I am. I was a struggling artist before that, you know, trying to find my space. And then I knocked on the Eurovision door, and they're like, You know what? We like you. We like what you're doing. Come on in, we'll give you a shot. That was where it all started.” Loreen on what it would mean to her home country of Sweden if she won again. “My performance has to have certain values. I think that's one of the reasons why they want me to represent them. The message is pretty clear. It's about nature. It's about hope, It's about love. All those things that I guess the majority of the Swedish people believe in and want to send out there.” Mae Muller on what it would mean if her home country of the United Kingdom won this year. “I feel like, especially in the last few years, there's been a change in tides and how people are seeing Eurovision in the UK. And I feel like we're taking it more seriously now, and I feel like, you know, a victory like that would just really like help, just like catapulting it in a different way. And I feel like Sam (Ryder) doing so well last year, like completely kind of changed the game.” Mateusz on artists that are proving most popular on Spotify ahead of the final. “In terms of Spotify streams, it's Swedish superstar Loreen and her song Tattoo. Actually Loreen already won Eurovision many years ago with her amazing track Euphoria. And that actually started her amazing career. And now she's back with another stellar song and is already having amazing numbers - actually twice as many streams as the second song in this list, Marco Mengoni…Marco is like an Italian artist. And then these two tracks are followed by Norway's song Queen of Kings…”

#podcast #music

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marvelcriminalhoe · 3 years ago

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Stumbling West

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Chapter 21

The Perfect One

i.e. Season 10 Episode 1

Chapter Summery: Your first day back, A new team member, and Aaron goes shopping with Rossi.

AN: I am so sorry for the long wait. I got stumped in my writing and then I got busy with the real world :/ BUT here I am again. This is a very fluffy chapter, leading us into some more exciting things for Aaron and Reader, hope you enjoy, and I should have some more chapters out this weekend :)

Word Count: 2,122

Series Masterlist

You're siting in Aaron’s office as he looks over some files, “What interview is this?”

“The 10th.” He looks up at you briefly, “The other ones just didn’t fit.”

You hum, “And this one does?”

“I think so.” He sighs, “She has the experience and all of her recommendations say she adapts well in new, fast environments.”

You nod your head, “Well then I’m sure she’ll be great.”

Aaron closes the file, leaning back in his chair, staring at you for a few minutes, “How are you feeling?”

Today was your first “official” day back. Really it just means you can travel with the team again and join in the field. You were out of it for 5 months recovering. With both your wounds taking their time to heal, and Aaron being overprotective when it came to you doing anything. Your stomach wound healed nicely, while your thigh took some time. You weren't able to walk on it for a whole month, part being the thigh, part being the abdomen. and when you did start walking on it again, you had to rebuild the muscle memory.

“I’m good. Ready.” You tell him.

He nods, studying you, “Are you sure?”

“Aaron,” You sigh, “I’m okay.”

He nods, standing up to walk over to you, “I know, I know. I just—“

“You just worry.” You cut him off, with a smile, “And I appreciate it, but you don’t need to worry.”

He nods his head, leaning down, hands on your arm rests, to give you a quick kiss. That’s another thing thats changed, Aaron is more open with your relationship in the office. He never goes, over board or anything, but he also doesn't stop himself from showing you affection. You don’t mind it if you’re being honest, it helps keep you grounded.

Theres a knock on his door, “Come in.” He pulls back from you, straightening up. You turn your head to see a small brunette woman standing there, “Hi, i’m Kate Callahan.”

You stand up, introducing yourself, before turning back to Aaron, “I’m going to go get some coffee down in the kitchen while we still have the time.”

You’re walking back up into the bullpen, coffee in hand, when Aaron and Kate walk out of his office, “Round table.” He tells you, seeing your confusion. You nod, following them both. “Everyone, this is Kate from Andy Sawn’s unit. She’ll be joining the team.” Aaron informs everyone, taking a seat, you sit beside him.

“Are you headed with us?” Rossi asks you.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “Finally.”

You see Aaron shake his head with a small smile at your enthusiasm, before becoming serious again, “Let’s get started.”

“Yes, uh, the mad butcher of Bakersfield has left another torso in the desert.” Garcia starts the case off. Going through all the details she has. The team shares some theorizes back and forth before heading to the jet.

You sit with Morgan, Kate, and Reid, at the table, JJ beside all of you on the couch. Everyone talks, getting to know your newest member.

Rossi and Aaron are at the other end of the plane, sitting across from one another.

“You thought more about what we talked about?” Rossi asks.

Aaron looks up from the report in his hands, looking over at you laughing at something Derek said, before looking at Dave, “It’s the only thing I seem to think about.”

Rossi hums, “You find a ring yet?”

“No.” Aaron sighs, “None were ‘the one’ when me and Jack went to look last weekend.”

“What does she think you two were doing?”

“Watching the newest Spider-Man.” Aaron says with a chuckle, “Which we did do, after we went ring shopping.”

Rossi smiles at him, “How does Jack feel about everything.”

Aaron leans back in his seat, “He’s excited. We had a long talk about everything, but he sees her as his second mom and understands she’s not taking up Haylee’s spot.”

“Good.” Rossi nods, “I’m happy for you Aaron, you deserve it.”

Aaron smiles at him, “Thank you.” Their both silent for a moment, before Aaron sends him a friendly glare, “You want to help me look at rings don’t you.”

“Well I’ve only done it 3 times now, I know what I’m doing.”

Aaron shakes his head, going back to the report.

The case in California has reached a standstill and the team is now at the point everyone hates, having to wait for another body.

You are in the conference room with everyone else. You let out a yawn, rubbing your blurry eyes from starring at the case files for so long.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Aaron’s voice rings through the room. Reid wakes with a jump next to you, making Morgan and Kate laugh tiredly.

You all clean up around yourselves, grabbing your things and heading to the cars to drive to the hotel.

Aaron leads you to the room, his warm hand on the small of your back. You both go through your nightly routines before crawling in bed, snuggling into the covers.

Aaron gets in after you, arms immediately going to your waist to pull you to him. You both get comfortable, basking in the silence after a tough day. Aaron let’s out a large sigh, “I miss our kids.”

You giggle softly at the randomness of his words, but nod your head, “Me too. You know, I hated being out of the field these past few months, but getting to go home to our babies every night? That was the best.”

Aaron kisses your head that is laying on his chest, “I missed not holding you at night.” He whispers.

You pull your chin up to look him in the eye, “I missed that too.”

Aaron smiles at you, “I think this is the first alone time we’ve had for 3 months.”

You almost snort at that, shaking your head, “That hasn’t stopped you from anything.”

“Not entirely.” He moves, flipping you so you are below him, “But I can’t do everything I want.”

“And what do you want, Mr.Aaron Hotchner?” Eyes fluttering shut as he peppers soft kisses down your jaw and neck.

Aaron hums against your skin, “All of you, baby. All of you.”

There has never been someone so enthralled with knowing every part of your body as much as Aaron is. It’s like he almost prides himself on the moans he can draw from you.

And he drew many that night.

The next day, You and Kate go to all the homes on Garcia’s list, all the people that buy large quantities of preservatives.

You only have one more house left, knocking on the door a few times, both of you waiting patiently.

A man in his 40’s answers the door, “What can I do for you, officers?”

“Agents.” Kate states, introducing you both, “FBI.” Flashing your badges.

“Oh.” The man back tracks, “My apologies. You must have worked extra hard to get that badge.”

You frown, “We all did.” Kate says.

“You buy large quantities of preservatives.” You state.

The guy stutters, “Um.. Is- is that a question?”

“May we take a look at your supply?” You ask.

“Uh, uh, why? Is, uh… Is there something tainted?”

You get a bad feeling from the guy, “No sir.” Answering him.

“Is it a threat to me or my family?”

You share a side eye look with Kate, “No.”

“Well, then I’m sorry, but that is my private property, and for you to come into my home, you’re gonna need a search warrant.”

“Shoot.” Kate looks at you, “I knew we forgot something.”

The man backs into his house, “Well, I have to help my son with his homework.”

You and Kate start walking back to the car, “When we arrest that guy,” She starts, “Do you mind if I do the honors?”

I like her.

“We might have to flip for it.” You laugh.

You both get into the car, heading to the stakeout of the barn with the local PD and the rest of the team. You see the Mans car pull up about 3 hours later, both you and Kate making eye contact before proceeding.

Knew it.

You and Kate both pull your guns out, “You’re on private property.” Kate yells to him, “So we have probable cause to search your vehicle.” You finish her sentence.

“Get out of the car.” Aaron tells him, coming from the other side with Rossi.

Kate looks down through the passenger side window to the seat, “Oh, got one.”

“Let’s pop the trunk.” JJ says.

While you and Kate step back towards the trunk, Rossi and Aaron apprehend the man that is yelling at the two of you, “Hey, you can’t go back there! Get away from there!”

“Just keep quite.” Aaron tells him in a hard voice.

“Hotch.” Kate gets his attention, the both of you looking over at JJ and Rossi who were coming to see the disturbance of your findings.

The team finds the real unsub 2 nights later. Finishing up the case around 3:30 that morning. Aaron makes the executive decision to not leave until 10 the next morning, giving everyone a nights rest back at the hotel, and an easy morning. It’s not often you all get time to spend in the city you travels too.

Rossi and Aaron go somewhere together, Rossi saying about showing him some antique shops. You send your forlorn boyfriend a sympathetic look as you head with Kate and JJ to a breakfast cafè nearby, your morning will surly be better than his.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Kate asks you.

Taking a sip of your coffee, looking over the menu, “A little over two years.”

JJ hums, “It seems longer. You guys act like you’ve been married for 20 years.”

“It’s weird.” Kate hums, “I wouldn’t match you both up if I had met you separately. But seeing you both together, it just makes sense.”

JJ puts her menu down, “When are you getting married?”

You roll your eyes at her, “You want to talk about taking awhile to get married?”

“You’re right.” She nods, picking the menu back up. You and Kate laugh, shaking your heads. But her question has been something that has been on your mind lately. You never thought you would find someone like this again, someone to love. Someone to grow old and have children with.

I’d marry Aaron Hotchner tomorrow.

Aaron was being dragged around by Rossi, who despite claiming to ‘have done this 3 times’, is not helping him out.

“Don’t give me that look Aaron.” Rossi tells him, taking him to another jewelry store. “How am I supposed to know you were so picky.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, “I’m not picky.” He huffs, “She just deserves something special, not just a ring like every other.”

He goes around the glass casings, looking at everything the have on display, getting more downcast by the second, not finding the perfect ring for you.

Just as he’s about to tell Rossi he’s giving up, the older man gets his attention, “What’s Jacks birthstone?”

Aaron gives him a perplexing look, “Opal.”

“And Charlotte’s is diamond?”

He nods his head, giving his friend a questioning gaze, “What is this about?”

“Well you wanted a ring that speaks of her, what’s better than her children.” Rossi tells him, nodding his head towards he case he’s in front of.

Aaron wake to his friend, looking down at the rings below him. His eyes immediately land on the rind Dave was talking of, breath catching.

This is it.

This is the perfect one.

He kicks himself a bit, not having thought of something like this. The most important thing to you was Jack and Charlotte. You joke to Aaron all the time about getting there names tattooed, though you both know you won’t, your fear of needles coming into play yet again. But every time Aaron has asked you why you would do that, you tell him so you have a reminder to look at, a physical thing to see and have with you, when you are away from them. Something to remind you of what is waiting for you at home, of why you choose to do this job.

Aaron always falls a little bit more in love with you when he hears you answer that question, or talk about the kids, or really, do anything. And he knows without a question of a doubt, that this ring, decked with an Opal jewel in the middle surrounded by tiny diamonds, is the ring. And he can’t wait to give it to you, to ask you, and (hopefully, depending on your answer) to marry you.

“Excuse me?” He gets the workers attention, “I’d like this one.”

tag list: @bakugouswh0r3 @averyhotchner @rousethemouse @malindacath @buckyswintersoldiermask @floweringashore

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #bau reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic

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an-anticlimactic-bass-drop · 3 years ago

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Tall Part 2/?

Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing.

Tech X Reader

Slow Burn/ Angst

Warnings: Mild 1.11 Spoilers, Deviates from canon

Word Count: 1.5K

Part 2/?

partly inspired by this gif

(it won’t let me put it in but its the one of tech catching omega)

Omega nudges you awake from where you are napping in the pilot’s seat. The small girl’s blonde head peeks over the arm of the chair as she looks out the window.

“Look!”

The sounds of explosions and blaster fire are erupting from the city center a few klicks away. You quickly lean forward and start firing up the takeoff controls for the Marauder. You are sure your boys are the ones behind the explosions and you smile gently as you imagine Wrecker’s gleeful expression as you see a cloud of smoke rise into the air in the distance. They can’t be too far off if the nearing sounds of blaster fire are any indicators. Omega rushes to the landing ramp as Hunter’s voice crackles in through the comms.

“Omega! Get ready to bring the senator aboard!” Hunter sounds a little winded and Wrecker cackles in the background as another explosion rocks the tunnel they were in. You remember the new security system Tech put in place and shake the last cobwebs of your nap out of your mind as you recall the specifications that he had told you about before leaving. Your hands fly across the panels as you disarm the system and lower the landing ramp. You head to the ramp as Omega jumps up and down waving at the men as they trek towards the ship.

“Ladies! Meet the newest passenger of the Havoc Marauder, Senator Avi Singh.” Hunter introduced you to the senator and you looked him up and down. The senator doesn’t look like he’s all that happy to be leaving his planet in the hands of the Imperials. Singh is wringing his hands and has a look of worry on his face.

“I should not leave my people. They need me here!” The senator says quietly. Echo leans in with a hand on the senator’s shoulder.

“If you stay here you will be hunted down and murdered. It is better to live to fight another day than to die unnecessarily.” The clone looks almost defeated as he tells the senator this. Singh’s shoulders slump forward as he takes one last look around his planet before boarding the ship, nodding in agreement at Echo’s words.

The trip back to Cid’s bar was uneventful to say the least. The senator and his droid are quietly sitting in the cargo hold. You offered him a cup of caf earlier but he graciously declined. The men are scattered around the ship as hyperspace speeds by. Echo and Hunter are attempting to sleep in the bunks while Wrecker and Omega are playing Saabac on the box that functions as a makeshift table. You just poured yourself a piping hot cup of the precious brown liquid that keeps you going through bouts of insomnia caused by the nightmares and the general lifestyle of the Bad Batch. Wandering up towards the cockpit, you aren’t expecting to trip over Tech’s long legs that are stretched out into the aisle.

“Kriff!” Tech curses as your cup spills slightly onto the top of his blacks. He slides out from the wall he was buried in and starts looking around for a towel to wipe the hot caf off of his shirt.

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You frantically bend down to help him. You grab one of his grease rags from the toolbox you notice off to the side and dab at the stain on his shirt.

“No worries. I will be fine.” Tech strips off his shirt and you swear you can feel the temperature of the air heat up several degrees as you realize just how close you are to the taller clone. “There. No harm done. Would you mind putting this in the laundry for me? I need to finish this last bit of wiring before heading back to check on the flightpath.” You flush as you tear your eyes away from the bare chest of the man in front of you.

“Hm? Sorry! I’ll just get right on that.” You hurry away with the stained shirt and a blush on your face. You left your cup of caf on the floor near where Tech was working. He let out a small chuckle as he steals your drink. Not his fault if you left it in your hurry.

The ship lands back at Cid’s bar without incident. The senator thanks you all graciously and departs into Cid’s office to discuss payment. Wrecker and Omega not so sneakily sneak off to get Mantell mix and Echo follows them at a distance to make sure they stay out of trouble. Tech goes to the bar to get a drink and you sit beside him to discuss the mission. You flush as you think about the previous night on the ship and you clench your jaw to avoid licking your lips at the thought of the bare chest of the taller clone next to you. You aren’t ashamed to say you dreamed of the expanse of skin and what it might taste like while you were in your bunk after that episode last night.

“Am I boring you? I can stop if you would like.” Tech looks concerned as you zone back into reality and realize you have been watching him with a blank expression for a beat too long. You blink in surprise as you shake away the untamed thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You really can’t be anymore obvious in your crush can you? At this point you might as well have a giant sign that follows you around that says “This person has a crush on the tall nerdy one!”

“No!” You exclaim a little too loudly and get some irritated looks from the other patrons of the bar. “Sorry I'm just distracted today. The mission has me a little rattled. I am not used to being that deep into enemy space.” You say in a quieter tone.

“We are also not used to it. I always knew we would make it to Raxus someday however I never thought about it being to save the seperatist leader. Echo was most displeased about the idea and protested greatly. I tried to convince him that it was just a job and we need to pay off our debt to Cid but he does not see it this way.” Tech seems saddened at his brother’s inability to see the mission without the politics. You can see Echo’s point of view and point out to Tech that Echo’s trauma probably makes it hard for him to trust the separatists seeing as they had kidnapped and tortured him for 2 years before he was rescued.

“The Techno Union treated him like a computer! An algorithm! Barely even human! I really don’t blame Echo for not trusting the separatists. He has barely recovered from the trauma of being in that machine for so long. He is still really pale and frail and you haven’t finished working on his new limbs yet so he still has the prosthetics they forced on him. Speaking of which, if you need help working on those I am always available. He has every reason to be upset about this mission.”

You are fully involved in the discussion and don’t hear Echo and the others enter the bar as they make their way over to you and Tech. Echo catches the tail end of the conversation and tries to announce their presence with a small cough that turned into a hacking one that left Omega looking concerned. Her big round eyes are full of unspoken worry as she gazes up at him. Echo glances down at the young girl and forces a smile, patting her head.

“I am fine little one. Don’t worry about me.” He says reassuringly.

Hunter leaves Cid’s office with her and the Senator. He comes over to where the group has gathered and steals Tech’s abandoned drink. He chugs the rest of it and gestures for the group to follow as he heads back to the ship. Tech stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off of the bar stool. He has a habit of making sure none of the Bad Batchers fall over, a habit he has picked up from their upbringing on Kamino where the other 3 clones were not the best balanced due to their enhanced abilities. Your face flushes again as you become uncomfortably aware of how close you two have gotten during the conversation. He leans away from your touch as if he also hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Tech turns to follow Hunter out the door and has to stoop a little to avoid hitting the door frame, Echo cracking a quiet joke about not having to worry about hitting the top of door frames since he lost a few inches. Only Omega and you caught the joke and you give a chuckle as Omega just looks confused.

“The legs you see? Lost a few inches? Oh well.” Echo gave up on explaining the joke to the kid and followed Wrecker out the door towards the ship.

Once back on the ship Hunter announces that they have been given a few days off courtesy of Cid since the mission went so smoothly. The other bad batchers glance at each other, not sure of what to do with their new time off. You were pretty sure they have never had free time in their entire life.

“We could visit Cut and Suu? See how they are settling in!” Suggests Omega.

“Too dangerous for them. We attract too much attention. The last thing they need is to be recognized as republic sympathizers.” reasons Tech.

“I think we deserve a few days of downtime! We can take a well deserved vacation and rest up before the next mission.” you say as you pour a cup of caf from the pot Tech started when you arrived back at the ship. “We can get some repairs done on the ship and maybe even explore the city! I know Omega has been dying to go to the museums in the city center since we got here and I'm sure you boys would enjoy it too.”

Hunter thinks for a moment and nods in agreement.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Taglist: @haloangel391 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

#tech x reader #tech is too tall for his own good #part 2 #omega has a nanny #its you #the bad batch steals each others drinks all the time and you can't convince me otherwise #tech is a caf fiend #you can't leave your drink alone with him he will steal it #tech has the best balance out of the bad batch #he catchs everyone

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rms-moonchild · 3 years ago

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Chapter two

WORD COUNT: 1k+ words

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, angst, smut at a later date

PAIRING: Namjoon x original character

DESCRIPTION: It was supposed to be just a normal day of filming RUN BTS. Namjoon didn’t know he was about to discover something he certainly was not ready for. That something being finding a girl in the middle of the forest.

THEMES: Namjoon x Fem!character, mentions of abuse/rape, Smut, some Violence, some strong language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride to the hospital was a rather eventful one. Namjoon's heart sank more than a few times. It appears they had gotten to her just in time because she crashed once leading them to need to administer CPR and at one point, she started to have a seizure. Why was Namjoon there may you ask? Well after some rather intense debate he managed to convince them to let him join in the off chance that she woke up and didn't understand Korean. He didn't think she would and neither did the medics, but Namjoon looked about ready to strap himself to the ambulance in order to be able to go with them. Truth be told be just felt like it was his responsibility to make sure she was going to be okay. He was the one that found her. Shouldn't he be able to know if she was alright? She was his responsibility from here on out.

"We're here. I'm sorry to say but this is as far as you are allowed to go. A nurse will escort you to a waiting area and we'll update you as soon as we can." The head medic told Namjoon as he wheeled the girl into the emergency area. As soon as she was out of sight a nurse ushered him into a small waiting room. I was empty of people which he was happy for. Sitting down he pulled his phone and dialed the first name in his recent call log. He fidgeted anxiously waiting for the person to answer.

"It's about time you called! I was about ready to start calling all the hospitals to check if you were in any of them!" Namjoon grimaced and held the phone away from his ear as the other person yelled on the other end.

"I'm sorry Seokjin-Hyung. We just got here. They have me in some waiting room."

"So, I'm guessing you don't know anything yet?"

"No, not yet. Though I probably won't for a while either. She wasn't doing very well while on the way. They had to restart her heart and she started having seizures. I'll let you know as soon as I know something."

"You really expect us to just go back to the hotel and wait for you there. No, we are coming to the hospital to wait with you." That was Jungkook. They must have him on speaker as he heard a round of murmured agreements.

"You don't have to. We don't all need to be here. You should go rest while you can." He sighed smiling slightly when his comment was met with cries of outrage.

"We are coming whether you want us to or not Joon. So just tell us which hospital you went to so we can come, and all be anxious together." Yoongi said after he managed to get everyone to calm down. After he told them where he was, he hung up and sighed. Leaning back, he tried not to think too negatively about whether the girl was going to make it or not. After about 20 minutes, he wasn't sure, the other member rushed into the waiting room looking at Namjoon hoping that he had some answers. When he shook his head they visibly deflated and sat down in various spots determined to get comfortable for who knows how long they would be here for.

Several hours and a bunch of coffee later a doctor finally came in looking exhausted but relieved, "Are you all here for the young woman" The doctor asked looking around the room. As soon as they heard him start speaking, the members were scrambling to get up and start asking questions.

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, please. I can't answer all of your questions at once. One at a time please." The doctor pleaded backing away slightly.

"Sorry," Namjoon apologized for the group after managing to calm everyone down, "How is she doing? Is she going to be alright?"

"The young miss is going to be fine. We managed to locate and repair where she was bleeding internally. Surprisingly enough she didn't have any broken bones. However, that's not to say that she's not in bad shape. Most of her ribs were heavily bruised and she'll need to be careful of the stitches on her stomach from where we had to do surgery. She was also severely dehydrated as well as malnourished. Once she is released, she'll need to take it easy on the food. Too much and it'll make her sick." He explained making sure they all understood, "We are not sure whether she will have any neurological damage until she wakes up. Until then it will be helpful to talk to her. She may be able to hear you even if it seems as though it seems as if she is asleep."

"Can we see her now then?" Namjoon asked smiling slightly. Even if they managed to get her in stable condition didn't mean they were out of the woods yet. The worst case is that she never woke up.

"Yes, however, the authorities would like to speak with whoever found her first."

"That would be me." The doctor nodded a waved for Namjoon to follow him out the door.

"A nurse will be in to show the rest of you to the recovery room." And with that, he left the room with Namjoon following close behind. They walked to the end of the hall and to the right then through a door where two police officers were waiting. They turned to when the two entered the room. The doctor bowed before leaving the room.

"So, you're the one that found her?" Officer one asked.

"Yes sir"

"Can you tell exactly what happened? We already talked to you director and managed, but we would like to hear what you recall of the incident." Officer two said pulling out a notepad.

"Well, we were in the middle of filming our newest RUN BTS episode. It was going to us playing paintball. I had decided that I didn't want to be in the main crossfire, so I was going further out to wait for a good opportunity. I heard my name being called because I was going too far out, but when I turned, I saw something lying there so I went to go look what it was. That's when I noticed that it was a girl. I immediately check to see if she was alive and called for help. That's when my Hoseok showed up and he ran to get help. She must have been out there a while because she was very cold. I placed my overshirt on her to try and help. I'm not sure if it did, but I'd like to think that it did." Namjoon explained. Sure, he left out a small detail here and there, but he got the main point across, "I was wearing a head camera if you would like to look at it. I'm sure Bighit will be more than happy to hand over the footage."

"Thank you, Mr. Kim. If we need it we will contact them. Thank you for your time." Officer one said getting ready to leave.

"What's going to happen to her?" Namjoon asked before they could leave.

"As of right now she is under the care of the hospital so she will remain here still stated otherwise by the hospital. Once she wakes up, we will be able to better determine what is best for her. For now, let's just hope she gets better and recovers." And with that, they left after bowing.

#bts #namjoon #namjoon smut #bts jhope #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts ff

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diyunho · 4 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

*************

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

**************

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.

Also read: Masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker imagine #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker x reader #joker leto #joker imagine #joker suicide squad #joker jared leto #mister j #mr. j #dc #dcu

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jssicamandy · 3 years ago

Text

REDISCOVERING GIRIBOY

I’ve been in another episode for awhile and is still recovering from it. I think this might be the longest episode I ever have yet. While in it, I’ve been listening a lot to Giriboy’s music especially, at first I listened to the songs in Smile, Wait for the Flash, but as youtube music has this autoplay features on and I also want to reminiscing his older works too I keep on stumbles new favorite of his songs that has been there all along.

I love his emotional rap ballad songs, the way he sings it so emotionally as if he’s really wrecked over the storyline told. I read his interview and I can sympathize with him on finding pathetic characters in movies and dramas feel so cool, they are so humane and their courage to stay true to themselves is something that always absorbs me into them.

Just like how I always sympathize with Lee Sun Kyun and the characters he acts on, he always seems far from perfect but I always find my heart easily tauted on his acts lol, I would choose him rather than those cold awkward expressionless main lead any day.

I love how Giriboy’s love for music and KHH constantly shines through all this long years since he first debuted. He is a very diligent musician that keeps on making, producing, and releasing music. I could clearly see his growth from his discography. Even the album he made in his most difficult period which he hated so, I still find them very great and have a number of favorites on it.

I just glad that I could find out about Giriboy, and has his music accompany and cheering me on my difficult days too.

I also made him as my lock screen wallpaper, I usually don’t have face on my background but as I’ve been very much cheered up on him, I find that having it on my screen is giving me good energy too.

These days I keep on listening to Eul & Spacetime, and a favorite from his newest album would be What a Mess.

#giriboy #hong si young #khh #krnb #emotional rap #music #thank you giriboy #i think it's already high time to call him giriman now #i love his smile too #they are so cute #and his joke is like geeky inside jokes

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sankyeom · 4 years ago

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stress naps

‣ summary: after kcon thailand, lana comes back to the dorms in desperate need of rest. ‣ pairings: 3racha x lana ‣ era: end of i am WHO / my pace era, right before i am YOU era ‣ lana (stray kids extra member au) masterlist

After the flight back from Thailand, Lana felt so exhausted she could almost pass out in the entrance of their dorm. Practicing for their special performance of It’s Raining at KCON, as well as preparing for their upcoming comeback had meant that the last month of work was fatiguing for all of Stray Kids, not just Lana alone.

“I’m so tired,” Lana whined, leaning against Chan instead of standing upright. Startled by the sudden weight, Chan stumbled before gently holding the girl up.

He laughed. “Don’t forget to do you hair and face mask,” Chan reminded Lana. For KCON, the hair stylists had temporarily dyed Lana’s hair lavender purple, since they needed to bleach it blonde for their next comeback but didn’t want to give the colour away yet. After having just dyed it red for their My Pace promotions, the stylists reminded Lana to regularly treat her hair with masks to keep it conditioned and healthy.

Lana groaned into her leader’s shoulder, glancing up at his amused eyes. “It’s not fair being a girl,” she sighed, eventually getting up and going to her room so she could take off her makeup and put on her masks.

If there was one complaint Lana had about the dorms, it was that she often felt a little lonely because she didn’t have a roommate. She understood that logistically, it made sense that the only girl got her own room. With their busy schedules, Lana often had to dress and undress in her room, and she also needed extra time in the bathroom to shave her legs, to her makeup, and other things that were expected of her as an idol.

This was why she tried to spend as much time as possible in other people’s rooms. Lana enjoyed the energy of being in a room filled with her members, especially after growing up with an older brother. Some of the members liked to spend time alone once they were in the dorms to recover from all the activities of the day, such as Seungmin and Jeongin. Most of the time, 3racha and the other 00s joined Lana because they always seemed to want company.

After changing into one of Chan’s long sleeved t-shirts – she often stole the member’s clothes because they were far more comfortable than most clothes made for women – Lana applied the hair mask into her long, faded-lavender hair and made her way into the living room. Pleased to see Changbin already sitting on the sofa, Lana lit up and took a seat next to him.

“Hi Binnie,” she greeted, handing him a sheet face mask to use. Changbin merely grunted, accepting the mask with a tired expression. “Do you want to watch the next episode of Are You Human Too?” Lana inquired. Her and Changbin often watched dramas together since Changbin often needed a cuddle buddy, and Lana was always happy to comply.

“You guys are still watching that show?” Jisung asked, taking a seat on the floor in front of Lana and grimacing as Lana pulled the show up. “I think the storyline is unrealistic. How can a robot be falling in love with a human?” he argued.

“So what?” Lana retorted, swatting the younger and frowning. “Who wouldn’t want to see Seo Kangjoon on the TV not once, but twice?” she said happily, having been smitten by the main actor in the show as soon as she first started watching.

Chan’s laughter sounded as he took the seat on Lana’s other side, handing a face mask to Jisung and starting to apply his own. “I don’t really care what we watch. Besides, it’s always funny to watch Lana enjoy dramas with actors she’s obsessed with,” he added.

Jisung frowned, taking the mask. “I guess,” he mumbled. “But if you start going on about how hot he is, I will complain and leave dramatically.”

“What else is new,” Lana said, turning on the newest episode as everyone started applying their face masks.

During the more uneventful scenes of the episode, Lana turned to Chan to speak with him. “How are you guys doing? And be honest. I know comeback album preparations are exhausting,” she added in a warning tone.

Chan grinned. “It’s okay, Lana,” he promised. “The album is coming along. It’s a little different, but I think it’ll mean a lot to Stay,” he explained. “What about you? I know you’ve had some photo shoot offers. Are you really going to take them all?” Chan wondered.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a good way to promote the group more. And I’m still a little awkward during shoots, so it would be good to get some practice with photographers that already have a concept and set outfits for me,” she thought aloud. “Why? Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“No, I think it’s good if you want to,” Chan promised. “You’re the new face of JYP after all,” he teased the nickname that a lot of Stays had used for Lana. “Just don’t take on too many things at once if it overwhelms you.”

“I don’t know why anybody would want you in their magazine,” Changbin muttered next to Lana. This caused the girl to burst into laughter.

“Don’t worry Binnie. We know you’re the visual of the group, I’m not coming for your place,” Lana promised. “Dazed Korea actually wants to put me on the cover,” she confessed. “It’s an honour just to be invited to be in the magazine at all. I’m actually excited for it.”

“Then you should do it,” Jisung encouraged Lana, eyes bright as he turned around to face his three elders on the sofa.

“Yeah?” Lana smiled. “Thanks Jisungie,” they faced the screen again and Lana couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, my cover for Dazed is going to come out one month before his,” she motioned to Seo Kangjoon on the television, and her members burst out laughing.

As the episode went on, Lana could feel herself getting more sleepy. She also noticed the members next to her, Changbin and Chan, had quietened down from their usual banter and were leaning against her, heads lulling slightly.

Carefully, Lana leant forward to see their eyes firmly shut as her members were completely asleep around her. With a smile, she removed their face masks and her own before throwing them into one of the packets on the coffee table. Feeling warm and welcome surrounded by her favourite people, Lana tucked herself between them and allowed herself to fall asleep, thankful that her members spent time with her, knowing how she felt lonely in her bedroom.

note: i know it’s been a while since i posted any lana content!! lots more is coming soon now that i have this series planned out better

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids 10th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids 10th member au #stray kids 9th member au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines #skz imagine #fic: lana

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starry-bi-sky · 5 years ago

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Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster

Inspired by one of the channels on the maribat discord, @stories-by-kat @maribat-archive

(You can find this on ao3 under ‘imshookandbi’)

Everyone in Gotham held their breath expectantly as the newest episode of ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed’ began playing on their tv screens. Tonight was another Wayne Special, and nobody wanted to miss it.

When the first Wayne Special aired it was met with surprise from every busybody in Gotham, they didn’t think Bruce Wayne would ever agree to such a thing, considering he was big on his privacy, and they were expecting something boring.

How they were wrong.

The episode started like any other, the camera crew standing outside of the house of the chosen celebrity, getting a clear shot of the large estate, before moving to the door and knocking.

[[MORE]]

A few seconds later it was opened by Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne butler, and the camera crew was invited inside. Bruce Wayne stood nearby with a blank expression, before motioning to the foyer and beginning the tour.

His voice, while pleasant and charming, droned on as he explained the history of the house. People were just about to click off it with a quiet sigh of expected disappointment, when there was a loud crashing sound and Jason Todd, Bruce’s second oldest, came sliding down the foyer stair banister and almost straight into Alfred, who merely stepped out of the way at the last second.

The camera jerked towards the dark haired boy in surprise, who was face planted into the floor and groaning painfully. The camera turned back to Bruce, as if asking a silent question, when the man in question adopted a pained expression and pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing.

It was silent as the Patriarch of the house muttered quietly, in a long-suffering tone, “We were supposed to act normal.”

After that it was all chaos, and Gotham saw first hand how crazy it truly was in the Wayne Family.

The people of Gotham demanded for a second episode.

The people of Gotham got a second episode.

The people of Gotham got many more episodes even after, much to their unrestricted glee.

The people of Gotham thought it couldn’t get any better, then enter stage left; Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian ‘I am a glacier personified’ Wayne’s sweetheart.

She wasn’t showcased until four Wayne Specials later, but even before then she was heavily mentioned. However, it was under the pseudonym (that wasn’t really much of a pseudonym, more so a loving nickname the youngest Wayne gave her) ‘angel’.

And an angel she was, nobody expected her to be French, nor so small. She first appeared when the camera crew was in the middle of filming, a tray of macarons in hand and an easy-going smile on her freckled face. She didn’t even notice the camera yet, instead she walked over to Damian, pecked his cheek, before swinging the tray over to him and saying with a heavy French accent; “Macaron, Dames?”

Damian looked positively gleeful before nodding and taking one. That was when Marinette noticed the camera crew, she looked surprised, but quickly recovered before walking over and, while looking straight into the camera with glowing bluebell eyes, said; “Do you want one too, monsieurs?”

It startled all but Damian, who was still munching on the little treat.

Gotham adored her, and loved having her in episodes. She wasn’t in all of them, mind you, for she was still French and thus lived in France, but that just made her appearances extra special. Everyone did wonder though how she gets over so quickly, considering the far distance.

That isn’t the focus, though. As the newest episode faded in, the title did as well. Gotham Fashion: Disaster, a curious name, but promising for it held the chance of having Marinette in it.

And having Marinette in it, it did. The first thing that appeared after the title card was the small French-Asian girl, however, what was new was the fact that she wasn’t smiling. A concerning and uncommon thing with the young teen.

She was enraptured with something on her laptop, her face was stoic and deadpan, but while her expression was void her eyes were full of life. One could think her eyes were made of blue fire, full of disbelief and anger and thinly-veiled disgust. The corner of her eye twitched ever so slightly, so small a blink could miss it.

The camera crew got closer.

Marinette didn’t even seem to acknowledge their approach, and as they drew in the glare on her laptop died away to reveal a full body image of the Joker in all his crazed glory. There was destruction and carnage at his feet, rubble and destroyed street was strewn around him like an edgy teen’s family photo.

Marinette was glaring at the man, more specifically his outfit, which consisted of mainly green and white and purple.

The teen seemed to notice the camera at that moment, wordlessly she looked up from her laptop, ever so deadpan, and much like her first appearance, looked straight into the camera.

There was no smile though, no polite kindness, nor a tray of macarons in her hand. Tonelessly, yet still full of so much conviction, she stated; “The Joker is a punk bitch. If I ever so much as see him I’m going to slap him with a mallet for the sole reason of looking like an eggplant dipped in green paint and powdered sugar.”

Then, she added, “How dare he make me look at him dressed like that.”

Her incredibly offended voice would’ve been humorous, if it weren’t for the fact that she just swore for the first time on camera. The camera jerked in surprise, and the room was silent for all but three seconds, before one of the men behind the camera said, very quietly, “Pardon?”

That seemed to be the opening to a pair of floodgates that happened to be so full the dam wall was cracking. Marinette twitched, before blurting out; “His outfit! It’s an absolute disaster! An insult to fashion! He’s a walking bruise that someone attempted to cover using a concealer that wasn’t even their correct skin tone! He walks around like that and expects me to be scared of him?”

An inhale of breath could be heard offscreen, apparently from one of the crew about to speak, but the young French-Asian woman continued on.

“Don’t get me started on Puzzler and the Riddler, I know green is a lovely color, it really is, but if you’re gonna walk around like a neon traffic sign then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get slapped. By me. With a ruler.” She began, a scowl planted itself onto her face as she crossed her arms, an unusually out of place expression on her features. “If they want, I will personally make them a new suit, I can make it green if they so desire, but under no circumstances is it going to be that shade of green.”

An opportunity must’ve been smelt, for a second later one of the camera crew members piped up; “What about the rest of the villains? And what about the heroes?”

Marinette twitched again, before bursting out into a outfit-style rant that only an experienced designer could manage. For nearly two hours straight Marinette called out each and every single villain and hero who resided inside and out of Gotham for their poor fashion skills and terrible color coordination. If they had some involvement with Gotham, they were free game.

Two-Face, the Penguin, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, Red Hood, Superman, Nightwing, Red Robin, the Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Robin, no one was safe from her ire. She ripped into each and every villain and hero she could think of, each outfit was torn to shreds and rebuilt into something new. It was the hottest verbal fire the people in Gotham have ever witnessed.

“Then there’s Batman,” Marinette hissed dangerously as she neared the end of her rampage, her eyes narrowed in both terrible judgement (for Batman) and self-righteous, fashion fueled anger. “I’m going to have a talk with him about the first Robin’s hero costume.”

“Bright yellow. Stop sign red. And clover green. The first Robin’s outfit consisted of those three colors, two primary and one secondary. Robin was a walking traffic light, he wore elf shoes and didn’t even wear pants. I’m—” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath to seemingly calm herself, before continuing.

“I get that Robin was a child at the time, and he probably needed some way to keep an eye on him, but there are different ways to track a child and being a glowstick is not one of them.” She said, “Apparently, black is the only color he seems to know that doesn’t end in neon. Apparently I will need to teach him on this thing called the color spectrum, and that he needs to use it.” Her voice was full of annoyance and disgusted designer judgement.

“And the cape.” She said slowly, enunciating each word perfectly and clearly, such a small sentence shouldn’t sound so much like a threat, but it did. “Oh, the cape. Let me tell you something—” Off she went again, the young noiret rattled on every single disadvantage a cape had.

By the end of her rant everyone in Gotham felt significantly burned, even if the focus of her ire wasn’t pointed at them. The civilians of Gotham felt both embarrassed of and for their heroes and villains— well, maybe not so for their villains too much, but still slightly. At the most they pitied them. (Except for the Joker.)

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day that one Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s inbox was flooded with commissions from heroes and villains alike.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired villain activity decreased exponentially for a month as villains of all kinds scrambled to fix their suits and outfits.

The day the episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ aired was the day the phrase, ‘dress to impress Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ was coined.

The episode, ‘Behind the Mask: Gotham Ed, Gotham Fashion: Disaster’ became a new Gotham Favorite, and Marinette’s popularity inside the crime-ridden city boosted significantly.

#my writing #personal post #maribat #daminette #maribat discord

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themurphyzone · 4 years ago

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PatB Oneshot: Eurydice

Summary: An alternate scenario for the Halloween episode, loosely based on the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Mr. Itch strikes a different deal with Brain. If Brain can make it to the surface world without looking at Pinky, the contract will be voided and Pinky’s soul will be returned. And failure is not an option.

Beginning AN: I posted this idea on Discord a month ago and I’ve wanted to write this scenario ever since. I love the Halloween ep so much…so how about some whump? I am not kind to our favorite mice at all, just a heads up. Also there is a serious lack of fics over the Halloween ep. It's prime material for angst.

Big shout out to @plutonis who listened to me cry over torturing these poor mice over DM.

FFN Link

Contract

I, the Brain, hereby agree to a challenge against Mr. Itch, Proprietor of Wayward Souls and Master of Hell, in which the winner shall receive Pinky’s soul. Should Brain win this challenge against all impossible odds, Pinky’s previous contract in which he agreed to submit himself to hell’s eternal torments in exchange for Brain’s dominion over the surface world shall be voided and destroyed, and he may return to the surface world with Brain. Additionally, Brain agrees to forfeit his royal claim on the world and is prohibited from future attempts at global conquest for the remainder of his days.

Challenger Signature: The Brain

Drafter Signature: Mr. Itch

*Mr. Itch reserves the right to set the terms of the challenge at his leisure.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d been too hasty in signing the contract. The combination of brimstone and heat had to be affecting his decision-making process.

It’s not about Pin– the food pellets, he told himself. Absolutely not.

But it was too late. His signature was burned into the page. Five blood-red letters would determine Pinky’s fate.

And even if…no, he couldn’t afford an if…when he succeeded in rescuing Pinky, he’d have to give up the world. He wouldn’t even be able to try and earn his crown, scepter, and throne through his own merits.

Without the nightly ambitions, Pinky might…wish to find a different associate.

Brain’s entire purpose would be gone. Forever.

He didn’t listen to the convoluted, nonsensical legalese that Mr. Itch’s lawyers provided. There was no need to provide metaphors or explain the situation further.

Brain understood the gist.

No matter the outcome, he would fail. And this time, the consequences were permanent.

“Think of it, Brain,” Mr. Itch sneered, and Brain hated that cocky, self-assured expression that put even the best car salesman in the world to shame. Mr. Itch waved his hand, and a sick, twisted parody of a game show appeared behind him. “You can walk away now and rule the world…or you can risk it all and try to get Pinky back.”

Brain’s vision blurred as he was forcibly thrust onto a tall podium. A spotlight illuminated him, and the demons clamored for his choice.

A tall demoness cheerfully indicated two panels to the studio audience of hell’s denizens. One depicted Brain on top of the world in royal regalia. He could have power to change the world. Admiration from the populace. Endless wealth so they could have the finest things life had to offer.

But the other panel was a portrait of Pinky. Just a misleading, goofy portrait of a smiling Pinky that belied the high stakes of Brain’s contract.

He was chafing under the spotlight. But why? He was king, he was emperor, with everyone at his beck and call! He shouldn’t be afraid of a little spotlight!

Except he wasn’t any of those things here. Just a mouse who’d failed to notice his associate signing his own soul away.

The demons clamored. Brain gripped the podium, vulnerable and ripe for humiliation, for several…seconds? Minutes? Hours?

His voice wasn’t working. He needed his voice, didn’t he? But he could only stammer like a fool. Perspiration built on his fur, and he nearly slipped off the podium, his palms damp and clammy. He didn’t know if it was the heat or the anxiety, but everyone was waiting for his choice.

“Save Pinky!”

“No, the world!”

“Go for cash!”

The demons jeered in a harsh, guttural cacophony. Brain was sure he would’ve been covered in fresh produce and popcorn if they’d had any available. Anything to amplify his current indignity.

He wanted Pinky. He wanted the world. He couldn’t have both.

But in the end, there was hardly a choice at all.

Ruling the world without Pinky by his side wasn’t worth the castle, the riches, the statues. Institutes of higher learning named in his honor, policies with his seal of approval, ethical practices in scientific fields to enforce…but what good were they to him?

His castle would just be a gilded cage. Sparkling and clean and mighty for all his subjects to behold from afar, but its interior would only contain a gloomy king without an associate, a confidant…

And a kindred spirit.

All or nothing. He had to try. Who knows? Pinky might’ve done the same for him.

“I’ll try to save Pinky!” Brain shouted, forcing the words past his throat and into the unforgiving outside world.

He wasn’t prepared for Pinky to spring onto the podium. That mindless simpleton was grinning from ear to ear like he was just being called to the stage in The Price is Right! Didn’t Pinky realize his soul was in peril?

“Oh, Brain! My hero!” Pinky snatched Brain up in an enthusiastic hug. Brain stiffened and tried not to think about the hand currently rubbing his head, and how he would never feel it again if he failed his quest.

They were also surrounded by an unfriendly sort. They would believe this saccharine display was a weakness if Brain allowed Pinky to indulge these childish needs.

He shoved Pinky off, holding him at arm’s length for a moment so Pinky would take the hint.

“…so he can show me where the food pellets are,” Brain added hastily.

That was all Pinky was needed for.

To show him where the necessities laid.

A hellish fanfare played, saving Brain pondering those terrifying thoughts.

An enormous fiery plume burst onto the stage, then dissipated to reveal Mr. Itch. He conjured a microphone and bowed heartily at the thunderous applause.

“Ladies and demons, we have something very special for your entertainment on this fantastic Halloween night. I trust you’re aware of our newest resident and his…well, can I even call him a friend? He didn’t lift a finger to stop me when I claimed Pinky.”

Brain stared down at his hands to avoid the harsh, mocking glares. This was just the opening act. Mr. Itch was hyping up the crowd for Brain’s ultimate failure.

Mr. Itch strolled around the stage, each movement radiating confidence of a self-assured victory. “Yes, he enjoys having that ultimate power. A glorious statue, his rival in the race for world domination now a lowly jester in court, his name praised on every street corner! Isn’t that a dream come true? And yet...he chose to come into my realm and make demands. Like the world wasn’t enough for him.”

Because Pinky wasn’t there to make the world enough.

A hiss of smoke sprung up by Brain’s foot. He bit his tongue, wondering if part of the challenge was running on hot coals or avoiding random ember spurts. At this point, it seemed very likely. His feet probably wouldn’t survive the night.

In the unlikely scenario that the rest of his body survived of course.

And something wet landed on his toe. Wet? There wasn’t anything wet about hell, unless one counted the boiling lakes. But it evaporated into steam before he could fully process the cool reprieve.

Then he heard it.

A whimper.

From Pinky.

A tear trailed down Pinky’s cheek.

“Pinky?” Brain asked quietly, trying to keep his eyes trained on Mr. Itch, who was currently recapping the tale of Brain’s disastrous attempt at Broadway to the raucous audience. Not one of Brain’s finest moments, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. Better for them to laugh over what was past and done, rather than drawing their attention here.

Pinky clutched his tail in a death grip. Steam leaked under his eyes and around his cheeks, his entire face damp with tears.

“He’s saying awful things.”

Even with their proximity, Brain had to strain his ears to hear Pinky’s voice.

“Don’t bawl, Pinky,” Brain whispered, hoping by some off-chance that the verbal comfort would be enough. “Don’t cry. Not here. Not now. Don’t…don’t be foolish.”

He didn’t know if the reassurance was meant for Pinky or himself. With a trembling hand, Brain reached for Pinky’s back, shuffling closer to make the motion less conspicuous.

But Pinky moved away before Brain could touch him.

“They have to know, Brain,” Pinky said. His voice was far too calm. “I can’t let him tell those awful lies about you.”

Pinky tried to balance on the edge of the podium, but Brain grabbed him by the tail and hauled him off. But Pinky was stubborn, and he tried again.

“Let him talk, you idiot!” Brain yelled, grabbing Pinky’s tail to knock him off-balance and buy some much needed time before Pinky foolishly tried again, oddly glad that Mr. Itch was enough of a showman to keep the attention away from them.

But Pinky’s huge pain threshold allowed him to recover far quicker than Brain would’ve liked. “Brain, let go of my tail!” Pinky shouted, trying to sweep his tail into a huge arc to dislodge Brain.

“Not until you do as you’re told, for once in your life!” Brain retorted, grasping the wriggling tail. He wouldn’t relinquish it.

Pinky was slippery though, and in one swift motion, he freed himself from Brain’s grip. Realizing he needed a more secure hold, Brain threw himself at Pinky’s right arm. Suddenly, the arm blurred, and Brain couldn’t stop his forward momentum in time. A sharp pain erupted on the side of his head and knocked him against a corner, his face throbbing painfully.

Through his daze, Brain pressed a hand against his cheek and winced at the tenderness. Hopefully it didn’t swell. Ice packs weren’t exactly a common item in this hostile environment.

Then he saw Pinky.

And Pinky was absolutely distraught. Smoke poured out his eyes at a more alarming rate than before. His blue eyes were tinged red. Pinky clutched his elbow with his other arm, squeezing as hard as he could to admonish it.

But it wasn’t necessary.

A microphone was thrust into Pinky’s face before Brain could tell him so.

“How could I forget our little stars of the show?” Mr. Itch asked, a sadistic grin stretching from ear to ear. “That was quite a scuffle there, Pinky. Can’t say I blame you. Revenge for all the times Brain’s bopped you on the head and insulted you?”

Pinky wiped his eyes in a pitiful attempt to get some semblance of dignity back as the demonic crew trained all their lights and cameras on him.

“N-no...” Pinky said weakly. “I mean, he can say mean things sometimes, but the bops-“

Mr. Itch shook his head in a show of mock sympathy. “Your friend-“ he curled his lip as if the word itself was cyanide “-called you a speckless nougat just before you signed my contract. He’ll take everything and give nothing. He’ll send you away only to ask for your services again because he can’t do the manual labor on his own. You’re a talented little guy, aren’t you? You’ve showed the moxie and the know-how to become a Broadway star or president of the good old USA. And instead of putting those gifts to use, you’ve been rotting inside a cage with a failure who leeches on your success.”

Failure.

One of the cameras trained its unforgiving lens on Brain. He shook away the remaining dizziness and stood up to get some semblance of dignity back. The demons booed and heckled him, but he tried to lift his head in defiance.

He wasn’t a failure. He ruled the world! His word was law, his brilliance unparalleled!

He had it all-

-only because Pinky sacrificed his soul for him. Pinky had taken drastic measures to prove himself when there had been nothing to prove, because Brain made Pinky believe he had to prove his usefulness.

He’d gained the world yet lost Pinky. It was failure.

Which meant he-

“Stop it,” Pinky begged. Brain’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he stepped away from Pinky before reminding himself that he was being illogical. Pinky didn’t have telepathy. He couldn’t have heard all that. But Pinky was glaring up at Mr. Itch with a ferocity Brain had never seen before.

In the span of a single night, Brain’s entire world had been shaken to its roots.

Mr. Itch raised an eyebrow. “Stop what?” he asked, placing his free hand on his chest like he’d been genuinely offended.

“Stop it! STOP CALLING BRAIN ALL THOSE NASTY MEAN HORRIBLE THINGS RIGHT NOW!” Pinky’s voice rose into a fevered pitch, his fur bristling along his spine.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Pinky wasn’t supposed to be the angry one.

Before Brain could stop him, Pinky leapt off the podium and landed on the microphone to the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the lesser demons, and even Mr. Itch seemed too stunned by the maneuver to shake Pinky off.

“Pinky, cease immediately!” Brain yelled once he managed to find his voice. “You’re being reckless!”

“I HAVE PLENTY OF RECKS, BRAIN!” Pinky screamed, tightly clinging to the microphone even though Mr. Itch was attempting to pry him off. “CAUSE YOU’RE NOT A FAILURE OR A LEECH! YOU’RE A MOUSE!”

A comforting warmth spread through Brain’s chest at the affirmation, but he pushed those feelings aside. Pinky’s words meant nothing if Brain didn’t succeed with this rescue.

The audience was deathly quiet.

“Yes, Pinky,” Mr. Itch growled, trying to slip a finger under Pinky to dislodge him. But Pinky held on. “Let your friend talk. Let the cameras capture his selfishness. After all, his presence here just means he wasn’t grateful for your gift. That he wasn’t happy with your gift. As I said before, all he does is take, take, and take some more. What’s he ever done for you in return?”

But Brain had been grateful. For a short time anyway.

Until he realized his gratitude came from Pinky’s sacrifice. All of Pinky’s sacrifices that involved no benefit to himself.

Pinky mumbled something that had much of the audience leaning in eagerly, trying to hang onto every word.

Mr. Itch shrugged. “Well, if you have nothing else to say, then-“

But Pinky hauled himself on top of the microphone, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“Brain gave me my name! He gave me a chance to see the world! He gave me a chance to do things I never dreamed of doing before! I wouldn’t have met Pharfignewton otherwise! Or Winnie or Mr. Sultana or any of the other lovely people we met while trying to take over the world! Maybe Brain can be big-headed and a grump but he works super hard and he’s going to make the world a better place to live! And most importantly, he’s my best friend and nothing you say will ever change that!”

“Pinky…” Brain’s throat closed uncomfortably. It had to be the oppressive, stagnant air. What could he possibly say to Pinky’s emphatic speech?

Even the demons were moved. Some embraced their neighbors, others made sympathetic noises. There were a few who sat with their heads pressed against their knees in a futile attempt to staunch their tears.

He’d never been more grateful for Pinky’s charisma.

Mr. Itch took notice of his followers’ reactions. A vein seemed to pop in his head, his once casual, lazy posture now stiff and alert.

“Brain only kept you around because you were useful.” A dangerous edge crept into Mr. Itch’s tone. “That’s all there was to your so-called friendship.”

“NARF!” Pinky screeched in defiance.

It sounded all wrong. Fury and fear laced that familiar, irritating monosyllable. Brain didn’t know what narf meant, and he probably never would, but he was certain that narf wasn’t meant to be uttered in such a fashion.

“Narf!” a demon called.

Another demon stood up and pumped his fist. “Poit!”

“Troz! Egad! Narf! Zort!” The demons chanted Pinky’s favorite syllables like the world’s most demented cheering squad.

An inferno burned in Mr. Itch’s eyes.

“SILENCE!”

Mr. Itch’s snarl deepened into a guttural and unearthly roar, the entire netherworld quaking in outrage. The lesser demons hastily vacated their seats and cowered behind each other, large boulders, or whatever makeshift shields they could find.

The microphone and a tiny white body were hurled into the empty audience box, crashing into the metallic structure with enough force to leave an enormous dent.

There was no tic-filled laughter to accompany the harsh clang of his body impacting metal.

“PINKY!” Brain screamed, not caring that he tumbled more than climbed down the podium. He landed right on his throbbing cheek and got a mouthful of hot crimson dust for his trouble, but he couldn’t care less.

The physical tortures were just going to build up until Pinky’s body couldn’t handle it anymore. It didn’t matter that Pinky had a near-immunity to pain. Pinky’s body would break and he would never notice.

Brain spat out the dust and hurried over to Pinky, who feebly stirred next to the microphone.

Mr. Itch loomed above them, an ember casually lit on his finger. “You know what? That’s perfect,” he chuckled, and it was utterly devoid of good humor. “Absolute silence.”

Brain knelt on the hard ground next to Pinky, who only blinked up at him with those too-trusting blue eyes. Pinky raised a shaking hand, cupping it against the cheek he’d accidentally hurt.

“I’ve sustained worse injuries,” Brain said quietly. Despite the heat, he shivered at the touch. He wished Pinky wouldn’t comfort him. He didn’t deserve it. “You know that.”

Pinky opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Speak up, Pinky.” Brain tried to sound commanding, but his voice hitched instead. He couldn’t even keep up a thin illusion of normalcy.

Pinky tried again, but Brain still couldn’t hear him. Not even a cough or a wheeze from smoke inhalation. He wasn’t choking or flailing. There couldn’t be something lodged in his throat.

“He can’t speak, Brain,” Mr. Itch said. “He’s been silenced per our little agreement.”

Silenced?

Brain snatched the wrist gently cradling his cheek and felt for a pulse, and he couldn’t disguise his relieved sigh once he found it.

“C’mon, just what do you take me for? It’s not a euphemism. Takes all the fun outta the contract.”

“Just say narf, Pinky,” Brain pleaded as he shook Pinky’s shoulder, as if pleading in hell would accomplish anything useful. “Please say narf. Can’t you do that much?”

Pinky mouthed the syllable to no avail. He became teary all over again, his free hand feeling his throat as if trying to coax the narf out. His foot kicked out, yet it made no thump against the crimson rocks.

The demons murmured among themselves, and though they appeared sympathetic to Pinky’s plight, they were too frightened of their master to come any closer.

It was just as well. Brain didn’t want anyone to touch Pinky.

Brain tried to glare at Mr. Itch, but a mouse could never hope to be intimidating against a sadistic supernatural being.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mr. Itch scoffed. “The fine print of our contract lets me set the condition of the challenge. Pinky’s silence is my first condition. If anything, I’m doing you a favor. Awful noisy thing, isn’t he? No wonder you weren’t inclined to get back him back right away.”

Had this been a different situation entirely, Brain might’ve found it relieving that Pinky would have to be quiet for a while.

Cruel irony at its finest.

Pinky touched his nose against Brain’s own, and Brain tried not to think of how Pinky could comfort as easily with a touch as with words. Surely Pinky was just using tactile stimulation for his own peace of mind rather than Brain’s.

“And now for my second condition,” Mr. Itch smirked. He snapped his fingers, the sharp echo promising cruelty yet to come.

The gentle pressure of Pinky’s nose vanished, the feel of his wrist and shoulder gone. The whites, pinks, and reds of his body were now colorless, lifeless. His bright blue eyes faded into a pale, ghostly void. No pupils, no irises…just empty.

Brain tried to put a hand over Pinky’s heart, desperately wishing for the steady thrum he was so accustomed to. Yet his hand passed through Pinky’s chest like mist. It was neither cold nor hot, simply that there was nothing to feel.

Pinky reached for Brain’s face, looking at him with that strange, milky gaze. But his hand passed through the cheek he’d accidentally hurt, and Pinky’s chest heaved rapidly. He tried to grab his tail, as he always did when he was truly upset, but couldn’t.

No tears came out. Just several silent sobs.

Pinky was just a silent, sorrowful ghost of his former self. The loudest and happiest mouse Brain had ever known was reduced to this shadow, trapped within his mind, unable to engage with the world around him.

It was a horrible, undeserved fate for such a kindhearted mouse. There would be no release, not even from death, if Brain failed his challenge.

He had no choice but to win.

And even that was practically impossible.

“Pinky, I’m sorry…” The words tumbled out of Brain’s mouth before he could think of anything else to say.

Why wouldn’t his mind just work? I’m sorry? Like he’d done nothing more than eat the last food pellet? Sorry didn’t even begin to cut it!

Pinky floated instead of standing, feet skimming just above the ground. He gave Brain a tiny, reassuring smile. Of course he’d find something to smile about in his non-existent state. It probably should’ve annoyed Brain, but it was rather comforting to know that Pinky would always be Pinky.

Even so, the smile faded just as quickly as it came. Pinky couldn’t properly express his joy with narfs and poits and enormous embraces.

Then a fingersnap above his head reminded him of Mr. Itch’s presence.

“We’ve got business to discuss, Brain,” Mr. Itch said as he straightened his lapels. “You should know what your challenge consists of.”

In other words, Brain’s humiliation had hardly begun. But he’d do it. For Pinky’s sake.

Brain tried to hold his head high and show hell that he wasn’t afraid to defy their evil laws, but he couldn’t even find the strength to bring his ears up.

Another snap, and the microphone soared back to Mr. Itch. He twirled it with a showman’s flair and gestured for the audience to take their seats. The lesser demons obeyed, murmuring among themselves and pointing at the spectral Pinky. They didn’t seem pleased by Pinky’s complete silence.

“Ladies and demons, think of Brain’s challenge as an adaptation of an old Greek story,” Mr. Itch announced. “And I ain’t just talking about a watered-down Heracles here. No, this story isn’t about heroes slaying monsters. Rather, it’s a tragedy. The Greeks were masters of that particular craft, you see. A man goes on a quest, yet his fatal flaw always strikes him down in the end. I trust you’re quite familiar with the concept, Brain?”

Brain said nothing. No need to give them ammunition.

His temper and pride were the source of many failures. But there was nothing he could do except commit the same errors over and over again.

He should’ve known. It was only a matter of time before the ones he…tolerated suffered the consequences.

As if sensing his thoughts, Pinky wrapped his spectral arms around Brain’s shoulders. He couldn’t feel the saccharine display, and that fact pained him more than he cared to admit.

“Ever heard of cooperation?” Mr. Itch sighed. “You have the starring role in the show tonight. Give us something to work with, at least.”

Brain gritted his teeth. He’d had enough of this delay. “I’m through with this prolonged torture! Just get it over with already!” he shouted. “I refuse to be paraded around like a sideshow attraction!”

“Touchy,” Mr. Itch huffed in disdain. He turned back to the audience. “But I digress. Now, this tragedy involves a man who ventured into the depths of the underworld to retrieve his closest companion. He placated everyone with his music, including Hades himself. And because Hades was a total sap, he allowed the man to lead his companion back to the surface world.”

His arm swept out and a large stone staircase appeared. It spiraled and arched far above their heads, and Brain caught a glimpse of a starry sky hidden among the crimson stone.

Pinky belonged in the surface world, where the grass and horses and inanimate objects he had yet to befriend waited. And he was relying on Brain to bring him there.

Perhaps it was silly to reach for arms he couldn’t feel, but Brain placed his hands atop where Pinky’s fur should’ve been. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d voluntarily touched Pinky without hurting him.

Something to rectify if they made it through this trial.

“And that brings me to the final condition.” Before Brain could react, darkness engulfed his vision as he was plucked up into the air, his head squeezed by an unforgiving, burning hand. Brain bit the skin like it was just another day of rough handling by some careless scientist, but a fiery pain flooded his throat and he released the hand immediately. It felt like magma had crammed its way into his esophagus, and there was no lifegiving water to relieve him.

Then he was roughly deposited at the base of the stairs.

Brain tried to turn around, but Mr. Itch forced him to stare at the first brimstone step instead. The steps were several inches taller than him, though he could still reach the next step if he jumped high enough.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Mr. Itch scolded. “I wouldn’t do that if I were a pathetic mortal like you. In this little tale, Hades told the man he couldn’t look at his companion until they were both in the land of the living, lest she be lost to the underworld forever. For your challenge, I’ll be invoking that same clause.”

Brain resisted the urge to bite that supernatural conman’s fingers off. He would only wind up damaging his throat.

“I can hardly expect Pinky to follow me in the presence of distractors!” Brain protested. “He’s liable to find a stalactite interesting, or collect rocks, or do anything else other than-“

Mr. Itch only cackled, pillars of lava erupting alongside his cruelty.

And Brain remembered why the story was known as a tragedy.

The man looked at his companion just as they reached the surface world. Her soul was forever lost among the dead. Though he tried to reclaim her, the underworld wouldn’t release her again. And he spent the rest of his life mourning her loss.

Hell expected a faithful adaptation. They knew Brain would inevitably lose his temper and forget that he couldn’t look. They knew they’d be able to keep Pinky forever.

They knew.

Yet they put on this charade anyway.

Because false hope was the cruelest lie of all.

“Your challenge begins, Brain,” Mr. Itch declared, and the wicked fingers slowly released Brain’s head. “And remember, no looking at Pinky until you’re both in the surface world. But that’s a moot point, ain’t it? You’re bound to forget soon enough. At least try to go for most of the length before your undeniable failure, okay? We wouldn’t want the show to end too soon.”

Mr. Itch vanished in a puff of smoke.

Undeniable failure.

“I am not a failure,” Brain snarled to himself, more out of habit than belief. But his petulance at the phrase enabled him to climb five steps without pausing for breath.

And he didn’t require Pinky to boost him up! He climbed five steps by himself!

But that thought was banished as he climbed the sixth step. Pinky couldn’t physically boost him, nor provide mental fortitude. The adrenaline rush wore off quickly, and Brain’s feet dangled in the air as he tried to find a grip on the rocky outcropping. But he managed, albeit with difficulty. On the count of three, Brain heaved himself over the ledge.

He laid on the hot stone to catch his breath, face tucked under his hands so he wouldn’t see Pinky.

No words of encouragement. No strange tics. Nothing except the roar of lava, mockery, and his darkening thoughts.

Funny how one didn’t appreciate what they had until it disappeared. Pinky always lifted Brain, boosting him to higher places he couldn’t reach alone. It was something he’d always done, and Brain had let it slide out of practicality. Just treat the action like a living, portable stepstool. It was far better than expending more energy than required during plans.

In hindsight, would it have killed him to say thank you? Or at least nod in gratitude?

There was no time limit, but Brain stood up and dusted himself off, though the crimson dust would just attach itself to his fur all over again within seconds. It was impossible to shake off, and Brain wondered if he would ever be able to fully cleanse himself of it.

Taking a deep breath, Brain reached for a handhold above his head and hauled himself up.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot again. One more repetition. Start all over for the next stairstep.

It was a rhythm. Rhythms weren’t full of what-ifs or what could’ve beens. Concentrate on the rhythm. Nothing else mattered.

He had to keep moving. Keep climbing. It was better than sitting there and doing nothing. He couldn’t rest. He wouldn’t.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

Brain’s throat burned. His fur was slick with perspiration, though it only served as a method to lose precious water instead of cooling him off. His limbs trembled, and it was difficult to keep hold of the unforgiving stone.

But he’d only completed the first two spirals! There were still several more tiers left, and the starry sky seemed much further away than before.

“Pinky, if…if we make it out of here-”

Brain shuddered as he laid down to rest. His voice was raspy from the fumes and thirst, but he had to keep talking. Had to say something. Maybe Pinky would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wasn’t even in earshot.

“-if you want to leave…”

He trailed off, rubbing away teardrops that quickly evaporated into smoke. His chest ached, but he couldn’t say for certain that it caused by physical labor.

Brain couldn’t make an attempt at global conquest even if he succeeded. Pinky’s help would no longer be necessary.

Between the two of them, Pinky knew how to live. He knew how to talk to people, how to have fun, how to narf through his pathetic lot in life with a smile on his face.

Brain only knew survival. Maybe it was his former field mouse instincts that somehow bled into intellect. Maybe his primitive instincts weren’t as gone as he’d like to believe.

He would never be anything else but a lowly test subject. If someone decided to euthanize or feed him to a snake one day…well, it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Another mouse would take his place. And when that mouse died, it would be replaced again. And the progress would continue in the name of scientific progress.

Dying for science.

Yes, that’s how he’d meet his end.

But Pinky’s kindred spirit would touch others. Whether it was through an executive office, the lead role on Broadway, or even just helping a stranger on the street, he could do so many good things for the world around him.

The world would love Pinky back.

And if a solitary mouse in a lonely lab happened to turn on the TV and see his former associate surrounded by an adoring crowd, he would be happy to see the world has changed for the better.

So he had to keep going.

He had to try. Try to bring Pinky back to the surface world…and let him go. He shouldn’t keep anything he didn’t earn.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The halfway point now.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He miscalculated the distance to the top of the next step and reached too far. He lost his footing and plummeted several inches. Growling under his breath, Brain punched the unfeeling stone, though it only bruised his knuckles instead of making him feel better. Then he tried again.

And again. And again.

He couldn’t grasp these handholds! There was no logical reason why. They were approximately the same size and shape as all the other outcroppings! It shouldn’t be this difficult!

“Pinky, where are you when I need you? Cease your nonsense at once and help me!” Brain screamed, clutching the stone and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see Pinky. Eight tries. Nine tries and counting. Why couldn’t he do something as simple as this?

But Pinky couldn’t help. It was useless to ask.

What’s the matter? Can’t manage a simple task on your own?

“Of course I can!” Brain snarled, and he gripped an outcropping so tightly that it broke off in his hand. He hurled the useless pebble into the abyss below, then found a different handhold and successfully hauled him to the next step out of sheer spite towards that nagging, insistent voice.

How do you know Pinky’s following you? How do you know he’s not enjoying his newfound flight capabilities?

He didn’t know. Pinky smiled when he discovered he could float as nothing more than a ghost, it was true, but the smile hadn’t reached his eyes. Pinky was incapable of deception. Even without speaking, the intention had been clear. Pinky only wanted to comfort Brain.

That Pinky could learn to live a life of nonexistence. That somehow Pinky would adapt to no touch, no words, no rest in hell.

If only those blank eyes had been more accusatory. It would’ve been far easier to deal with.

Pinky shouldn’t adapt to this. He couldn’t.

But he might-

No. Brain had to try. He had to try and not fail.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The ground quaked beneath his feet, and Brain clung to the crimson ledge he rested on. He wouldn’t put it past hell to throw him to the bottom and negate all his efforts.

Still, he pressed on.

The sky was closer now. Several autumn leaves were blown along the wind.

Are you sure Pinky’s behind you?

Three spirals left. Almost there. They were almost there.

Failure would come soon. He was sure of it.

He didn’t know much time had passed in the world beyond. Was it November already? Was it time for the world to replace the witches and skulls with turkeys and wreaths?

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The navy sky was filled with countless twinkling stars. Lights from a faraway airplane blinked steadily as it flew into the horizon. Ever closer, ever brighter.

“Do you see that, Pinky?” Brain whispered. For once, the stars gave him no existentialist dread. A feeling he dared describe as hope filled his chest and strengthened his limbs. All fears were banished to the recesses of his mind. He climbed with renewed purpose, not pausing for breath. “Just a little farther. We’re almost there. Stay behind me, Pinky. Just stay behind me.”

He’s not behind you.

“Yes, he is,” Brain retorted.

This was important. Pinky always came through in matters of importance.

Always is so absolute. You know those statements are usually false, right?

The ground rumbled, accompanied by a distant outraged roar, but Brain paid no heed to it. He ignored his doubts, he ignored the roars, he ignored everything but the starry expanse above and the rocks beneath his hand.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He could do this. One more ledge. One more handhold. One more foothold.

The sky was so inviting, so beautiful…

Brain gripped the last ledge. He was filthy with dust and sweat, but he couldn’t care less. He was almost there.

Pinky was almost home. Pinky would be able to feel again.

And he would leave. But that was alright. Pinky wouldn’t suffer in hell on Brain’s account. That’s all that really mattered.

He hauled himself onto the last ledge…

…but he didn’t see the pitchfork’s hilt in time.

An agonizing pain shot through his body as he lost his grip and plummeted to the previous step. His back slammed against the hot stone. A searing pressure in the center of his forehead kept him pinned. He gasped for air, his dry throat throbbing.

An enormous crimson devil blotted out the night sky, and Brain’s fragile hope ripped away from his heart. The Devil’s eyes burned like lava as he glared hatefully at Brain, digging the pitchfork ever so slightly into his head.

It wouldn’t take much force to crush or melt his skull, whatever the Devil fancied.

“I OFFERED YOU CHANCE AFTER CHANCE TO WALK AWAY WITH THE WORLD. BUT YOU STOLE WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO ME. YOUR PUNISHMENT SHALL BE DEATH.”

The silky, snake-oil voice was gone, replaced by the full power of a supernatural entity. What was a mortal, pathetic rodent compared to the Master of Hell himself?

He was going to die. He’d failed to save his friend. His only friend.

If his soul was trapped in hell forever…if he had to suffer for all eternity, he deserved it. For his selfishness. For his callousness. For his failure.

“Please don’t hate me, Pinky…please don’t…” Brain choked out. He didn’t know where Pinky was. But if Pinky was watching, or listening, he could only ask that Pinky wouldn’t hate him.

He lay there, his determination gone, his lonely demise imminent.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

And the pressure vanished.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

A cacophony of Pinky’s favorite syllables sounded again and again and again. Though Pinky’s voice wasn’t among them, Brain still heard that oddly wonderful Cockney accent loud and clear.

“NO! PINKY IS MY PROPERTY!”

The Devil roared as dozens of lesser demons swarmed him, the pitchfork swinging wildly at anyone who dared to oppose his reign. Something screamed at Brain to find cover before he was caught in the power struggle too, but his body refused to obey any rational thoughts.

Several demons ripped the enormous pitchfork away from their master, and the weapon crashed into a wall and spiraled into the depths below. Other demons screeched and clawed at every part of the Devil they could reach. The Devil swatted one pig-snouted demon slashing away at a shoulder, and he flew over Brain and tumbled down the stairs, grunts of pain echoing off the walls.

Immediately, his nearest allies howled in fury and attacked with more vigor than before. They chomped on cloven hooves, they fended off every swipe, and shouted warnings to their comrades before the Devil’s wrath could reach them.

No longer was self-preservation their only concern. They were a united force now, one the Devil himself had underestimated severely.

With one final shove, the Devil toppled over the edge. The ground rumbled at his furious roar, which quickly decreased in volume as he fell into the abyss.

Brain’s heart pounded, but the Devil didn’t resurface. A resounding cheer went up from the demons, then two of them rushed past Brain, presumably to check on their downed ally.

The remaining demons watched Brain closely. He flinched under attention he didn’t want. He just wanted to leave this horrible place. Then he realized they weren’t exactly looking at him, but rather somewhere just above his head.

“Narf!” the demons shouted, hands raised to their foreheads in a salute.

There was only one explanation behind the sudden camaraderie.

Pinky.

Pinky had been helping him all this time. Somehow, he’d influenced selfish demons to unite against their cruel master and protect each other from serious injury. Somehow, he’d found a way to say narf despite his voiceless state.

Somehow, Pinky still wanted to save Brain, even after all he’d done.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said softly.

He didn’t need to question Pinky’s presence any longer.

A cool, fresh breeze blew over Brain’s fur as he climbed the last step. The starry sky was clear once again. It was a nice view.

The demons stood aside to allow them safe passage. He kept an eye out for any hostility, but other than their natural weapons, there was none to be found. Whether it was out of respect for the trial he and Pinky had endured, or if they were just an unpredictable force and Pinky’s presence somehow warded them off, he didn’t know.

Brain stepped onto the cool asphalt of the DMV parking lot, and had this been a different circumstance entirely, he might’ve found it rather ironic that one would be glad to set their sights on a DMV. He shivered from the temperature difference, the chilly autumn air contrasting heavily from the sweltering inferno.

Pinky’s contract shimmered into existence , and Brain’s own agreement followed within seconds. Someone had stamped ‘VOID’ in red capital letters across the top page of both contracts, and fire blazed across the crimson ink and engulfed the papers entirely. The ash and smoke left behind were swiftly carried off by the night wind.

Just like that, their contracts were gone.

In his relief, Brain turned to face Pinky to properly share their victory.

IDIOT! If you turn around, Pinky will be claimed by the Devil. Your entire challenge would be for nothing!

And Brain’s foot stopped mid-turn.

The realization struck harshly.

He didn’t truly know if the Devil had a claim over Pinky’s soul. The lesser demons only bought them time to escape hell. Brain doubted they’d be able to hold their master back forever, even as a united front. But if the Devil came back, what then? Two lab mice couldn’t hope for a permanent victory against a powerful, malicious entity.

There was only one solution.

Brain could never look at Pinky again.

He didn’t trust himself to not slip up. Sooner or later, he’d forget that he couldn’t look. And Pinky would be gone again. Brain’s efforts would be in vain.

Hell wouldn’t be so accommodating the second time.

“Narf! Brain, I can say narf again!” a familiar voice exclaimed behind him.

Brain’s ears perked without any conscious input, but it was a minor loss of control in comparison to everything else he’d endured tonight.

He heard the clatter of pebbles and a swish of fallen leaves alongside a gentle tap of dancing feet against the asphalt. Pinky could interact with the environment again. He could dance and speak and produce all the noises he wanted. It was a small consolation, at least. The contract never said anything about never being able to hear Pinky again.

“Brain?” Pinky asked again. “Are you alright?”

Brain forced himself to stare at a white line that marked a parking space instead.

Don’t look, he chanted. You mustn’t look.

A featherlight touch landed on his shoulder, a gentle warmth not quite touching his back, but just close enough for him to feel its presence.

Brain hastily pulled away. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of being unable to function without physical reassurance. But he couldn’t accept Pinky’s touch either. It would just lead to further loss of control over his emotions, and he’d forget that he couldn’t look.

Pinky would have to leave ACME Labs and Brain forever. He would probably find it difficult at first, but he’d adapt. That’s just what he did.

Brain’s entire body ached. He just wanted to wash away the fire and brimstone, tend to his injuries, and sleep. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do after that. Even if he ignored the contract’s terms and tried to conquer the world again, it would never be the same.

He set off for the lab. Pinky followed, as always.

Maybe it was a selfish risk to not send Pinky away at this very moment, but he was grateful that Pinky would accompany him for one last after-failure trek.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d completely forgotten about his very brief stint as emperor. The only reminder from that timeframe was Snowball, who’d exchanged his jester cap and bells for the royal crown as soon as Brain abandoned his post to rescue Pinky.

ACME was no longer a mighty castle, but just another underfunded lab. Nobody chanted his name, called for their problems to be solved, or held signs that proclaimed Brain as their ruler. His statue had long vanished.

He didn’t want to see loyal subjects, enormous wealth, and undisputed power tonight. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever want them again.

Right now, he was just Brain, an exhausted, downtrodden lab mouse who would have to try to live without his only friend.

On the way back, Pinky had chattered about anything and everything, prattling on about cheese flavors, then about an inflatable reindeer someone had put up a month early, and finally to paint swatches so their section of the lab would be, according to him, ‘happy and go-lucky and livelier than a herd of hippopotamuses!’.

Brain said nothing. He just let Pinky talk. This might be the last time he’d ever hear that silly voice again.

“Maybe we could get some feng shui going, just like on HGTV! Zort!” Pinky said, and Brain could just imagine him scratching his head in a vain attempt to get any thoughts going. “Wait, no…we should paint radish roses on the walls! And make them with our radish rose whatchamawhozits! Twice the garnishes for our dinner parties! What color swatch should they be though? Raspberry rose? Rosemary? Oh, we should get one with a funny name! What do you think, Brai-oh, hey Snowball! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Snowball scowled, stalking over to Brain and casting a contemptuous glare at Pinky. The loss of the hamster’s usurped power was still fresh in his twisted mind.

“My statue is gone thanks to whatever you did!” Snowball jabbed a finger into Brain’s chest. But Brain barely felt it. He didn’t feel anything towards Snowball at the moment. Not betrayal, not hatred, not even bittersweet nostalgia.

Brain only wanted rest.

“You should’ve stayed in hell,” Snowball growled. “He promised he’d keep you there.”

Brain placed his hand over Snowball’s finger, but he didn’t have the strength to push it away. The hamster raised an eyebrow at the lack of resistance.

“And he kept that promise, Snowball,” Brain said quietly. “Perhaps not in the way you expected, but he kept it.”

Snowball scoffed. He wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

The laboratory doors were wide open. It was a small consolation that he wouldn’t have to go through the mail slot.

“But…our contracts went up in smoke, Brain. Literally.” Pinky’s voice quivered. “And we’re on the lab’s doorstep too.”

It was time to break the news. Maybe he shouldn’t prolong the goodbye, but Pinky needed time to clean himself and pack his belongings.

“I wish to speak with Pinky. Leave, Snowball.”

“Fine,” Snowball spat, shoving past Brain. “I’ll talk to that blasted devil myself. Even his lawyers will have a difficult time against an entire corporation’s legal team.”

Once he was gone, Brain gestured for Pinky to follow him inside. The interior no longer held a throne, red carpet, or a golden wheel. Just their cage, several counters, and standard laboratory equipment.

Pinky made a valiant effort to hold his tears back, though he couldn’t completely stop all the whimpers from escaping. “P-poit. Nothing good ever comes out of wanting to talk,” he chuckled weakly.

“No, I suppose not,” Brain said. He gripped the side of a bottom drawer to give his hands something to do. His hands were scraped raw from climbing, though he relished the sting. Stings were only a small pain. He could handle small pain. More importantly, he couldn’t turn around, not even to see Pinky off for a proper goodbye.

You have to leave now. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Pinky, his mind supplied.

It wasn’t enough. Whether it was one word or a million, they would never properly express everything he never said. What was he supposed to say to Pinky, who gave his soul away for Brain and never asked for anything in return?

“Brain, are you mad cause I didn’t help you?” Pinky asked. “Is that what this is about? Cause…I wanted to. I tried to push you up the steps, but I couldn’t feel you…and I tried shouting and cheering and yelling too! I…I don’t think you heard me. I’m sorry for being useless, Brain. You struggled so hard for me, and I was just useless!”

When Mr. Itch imposed his horrible terms, Pinky tried to cheer up Brain. Even when Brain had doubted, Pinky had been by his side. And he’d somehow inspired the demons to come to their aid.

That wasn’t useless. Not at all.

Even if Pinky hadn’t done all those things, Brain wouldn’t have held it against him. His anger was directed entirely towards the Devil himself.

“You’re not useless, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “I never should’ve implied it before this entire mess started. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a while, only broken by the tap of Pinky’s feet on the tiles.

“Okay, I forgive you,” Pinky said. There were no strings attached. It always took Brain by surprise, how there were no additional requirements for Pinky’s forgiveness. “How come you won’t face me, Brain? I wanna see you.”

Brain took a deep breath. Best to get it out of the way. Get it done.

He couldn’t say done and over with. There was no over. He would never be the same without Pinky.

“I can’t see you, Pinky. I can’t look at you. Ever again. ” Brain pressed his head to the drawer, fighting the urge to turn around. “Don’t come any closer. You’ll just…it’ll make it harder on both of us.”

But Pinky’s footsteps drew closer. Of course they would.

“Make what harder?” Pinky echoed.

A warm hand fell on Brain’s shoulder, so different from blazing fire and cold wind, and something inside him broke.

“This goodbye, you idiot! He’ll come and he’ll take you again if I look at you! So leave at once for your own safety!” he yelled. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, parched from thirst and raw from fumes.

“Then what was the point?” Pinky’s hand tightened around Brain’s shoulder. “Why would you rescue me only so you could tell me to leave? Why would you come after me and get hurt so much? At least you’d have the world if I’d just stayed there!”

“I WOULDN’T HAVE THE WORLD IF YOU REMAINED IN HELL, PINKY!” Brain screamed back. “I WOULDN’T HAVE ANYTHING!”

Not the one that truly mattered, anyway.

Pinky’s long tail drooped, ears falling back. Tears spilled out of his blue eyes.

And Brain’s anger melted away, replaced by all-consuming fear. His temper struck again, and he’d forgotten.

He’d turned around.

And he was looking straight at Pinky, right into the sorrowful expression he wore.

“No,” Brain whispered, shaking his head as he put as much distance between himself and Pinky as he could. But his body wouldn’t cooperate. He only managed a few shaky steps backwards. The lab was always so big. Why did it feel so tiny now?

Pinky was close. Far too close.

He’d looked.

The Devil was coming.

Lurking in any shadow, ready to snatch Pinky.

“He’s coming, Pinky!” Brain cried. “You have to get out of here now!”

“Who’s coming?” Pinky asked, reaching for Brain again. “Brain, are you alright? Your ears are floppy.”

He wasn’t even trying to run.

“No, I can’t let him take you. Not again!” Brain quickly glanced around the room. Surely there had to be plenty of places for a mouse to hide!

But the drawers were far too obvious, desk items could be moved easily, and his mind wouldn’t work just like every plan he ever came up with didn’t work and his attempts to protect Pinky would end in failure and he failed even when he wasn’t after the world and he just wanted to do something good for once without failing miserably-

White filled his vision as he was pressed against a warm chest by a gentle arm. A strong heartbeat thumped against his ear. A hand gently slipped under his chin, tilting his head up until he was looking into reassuring, sky blue eyes.

Despite the tears, Pinky’s gaze promised only hope and light and companionship.

Then Pinky carefully touched the area Snowball had jabbed, the center of Brain’s forehead where the pitchfork almost crushed him, until his hand lingered on the cheek he’d elbowed during their fight on the podium.

Gentle. Kind. Worried.

And Brain cried. Pinky held him close, not complaining when Brain’s tears dampened his fur or when the leftover crimson dust smudged against him. Tears splashed against Brain’s head, and he wrapped his own arms around Pinky, just to let him know it was alright if he needed to release his tears too. He didn’t know if he was hugging too tightly or holding too loosely, nor did he know if his arms were in the correct position at all.

Brain stroked the fur along Pinky’s spine, hoping the gesture conveyed that he forgave Pinky for accidentally hurting him. He took Pinky’s tiny hum as a good sign.

Pinky had been deprived of all sensation. This was comfort for him, just the reassurance of touching Brain. Of being close to him.

They stayed that way until nothing was left but exhaustion and damp fur along their cheeks. Brain’s legs buckled, unable to hold him up any longer.

Pinky caught him. “It’s okay, Brain. I’ll carry you,” he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Never once did Brain feel like he was going to fall during Pinky’s climb up the counter. He only relished the close contact.

But he had to let go all too soon.

Pinky set Brain on the counter, then brought him a thimble of water from their bottle. The cool water flowed down his throat, bringing him much needed relief. He sipped slowly, giving Pinky time to dampen several fluffy towels in the sink.

“Pinky, aren’t you tired?” Brain asked as he exchanged the thimble for three small towels. One was damp, another held strawberry-scented soap, and the last one was dry.

But Pinky shook his head, yawning loudly as he skipped away to clean himself as well. He made lots of noise as he freshened up, just to let Brain know he was there.

And with his mouth wide open too. It was rather uncouth, and despite his exhaustion, Brain rolled his eyes at just how Pinky-like that action was.

Brain made sure to use all three towels the way Pinky intended, scrubbing out the dust with the damp towel, and to his surprise, it came out rather easily, then rubbed the strawberry scented soap and clean water into his fur, and finally dried himself off with the last towel.

As he patted down his fur to try and get it into some order, Pinky came back. The messy tuft on his head stuck out in every possible direction, and so did the rest of his fur.

“You’re a mess,” Brain sighed as Pinky picked him up and carried him back to the cage. Pinky laughed softly as Brain flattened a particularly egregious tuft on Pinky’s shoulder. The acrid fire and brimstone scent was gone, and now they smelled of fresh strawberries.

They settled into their shared bed. Pinky set Brain down on his preferred side, then pulled away. Pinky frowned for the barest second, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile.

Yet he knew Pinky still needed physical contact.

And so did he.

“Pinky?” Brain whispered.

Pinky took that as an invitation to pull Brain into a secure hold. “Yes, Brain?”

“Don’t go…” Brain nuzzled into Pinky’s chest, into the odd yet comforting warmth he freely gave. One last stray tear slipped from his eye. “Please don’t go.”

Instead of replying with words, Pinky rested his jaw on top of Brain’s and hummed softly, the vibration soothing to his worried mind. His tail draped over Brain’s waist to anchor him.

“Just say narf, just say narf.

We’re alright, we’re okay, so let’s say narf.

You and I will have tomorrow nights again.

No matter what happens, I’m always your friend…”

The melody was soft, the rhythm reassuring. Brain closed his eyes and believed in Pinky’s familiar song.

They were together. Tomorrow night would come. He was sure of it.

End AN: So...I’ll be real, some parts of these were really hard for me to write cause I feel so bad for torturing them like this. Give them love guys. They need it.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #warning for torture

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