#and sulley turns his back on him and tells him it doesn’t matter

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 68

Warnings: I think it’s fluff/angst

Rating: SFW

In the Badlands on the outskirts of the Keyblade Graveyard, two figures stood atop thirteen pillars of earth. Both in black cloaks, the man with blue hair spoke first.

“Humanity is a precious gift. And yet you desire to return to the Organization?” he said. 

“Oh, yes...of course. One eradication at Axel's hands was enough to learn where NOT to place my trust,” the second figure said. 

“He gave you a second lease on life.” 

“He ripped me away from the one thing I care about. I don't require humanity. Give me my research. I must see it to fruition, no matter the cost.”

“The replicas.” 

“Yes.” The hooded man laughed. “Soon they will replace, not just replicate. Given a heart, they can become just as real as any human.” 

“What excellent tidings. I would hate to think we invited you back into our ranks only for you to fail to deliver our final vessel...” The man takes off his hood, revealing the yellow eyes and ashy blond hair of... “Vexen.” 

“But remember...” Vexen said. 

“Of course.” 

“Protect the royal bloodline,” the both of them said. 

~~~~

You and the others sailed the Gummi Ship to a world of doors and monsters. The stars twinkled in the night sky as you all walked towards a large factory building taking in the sights. Sora stopped, turning around...There was something different about you all. As you and the others finally got a glimpse of one another, you all jumped back in fright, summoning your weapons. Sora held his Keyblade tightly, facing you and the others. He took a moment to distinguish the features of you and the others. But the thing was, you and the girls looked normal. 

‘Right, they’re Spirits. They can’t change forms that quickly,’ he said in his head.

“Wha...? D-Donald...Goofy...Sora...Vanitas...Why do you guys look like monsters?” you asked.

“Yeah, you’re really creeping us out,” Roxy said. 

“Although, Sora and Vanitas look kind of cute,” Rumi said. 

“Yeah, you got a point there,” Yui said. Sora had sports gray striped fur all over his body, a brand new tail, claws and spiky ears. Vanitas was the same way but had a darker color. Donald walked forward, lowering his wand. His feathers were now blue skin, his webbed feet now three-toed claws. His beak showed two fang-like protrusions as his tail ended in a spike, and two small purple wings stuck out from his back. He peered at Goofy from his single large eye. Goofy, on the other hand, now had two different sized and colored eyes, teal spotted skin and huge claws. Sora looked down at himself.

“Seriously? Is THIS how we blend in here?” he asked. 

“That's right. It's about time you caught on,” Donald said. You all walked closer to Sora, who scratched his face.

“Could you guys take a few steps back? You're givin' me the heebie- jeebies. Except you girls. You’re not creepy,” he said. 

“Yeah. Especially you Goofy. You’re really freaking me out,” Vanitas said. 

“YOU take a step back!” Donald yelled. Sora cowered, sparking a chuckle from Goofy.

“Come on, I think our new look could turn out to be lots of fun!” he said, causing Rumi to hide behind you. Sora and Vanitas shrugged and looked back up at the building. A large symbol of a M with an eye inside was stamped on the outside of the factory.

“Wonder what kind of weirdos live here...” Sora said. Goofy crouched next to Donald to whisper in his ear.

“Who'da thunk he'd get so creeped out?” he asked. Donald and Goofy giggled as you, Vanitas, Sora, and the girls read the words above the entranceway. There was scaffolding set up over the left side of the message.

“It says, ‘We Scare Because We Care’?” you asked. 

“That's odd,” Yui said. 

“Doesn't sound very caring,” Rumi said. 

“If they look like us, then they could be trouble. I think we'd better investigate,” Vanitas said. You and the others entered the factory doors and in the large lobby, you all saw two strange creatures. One very large and fuzzy and the other small and green. The larger one was holding a young toddler, causing you all alarm.

“Oh no!” Goofy said. 

“Weeee!” the toddler said. The girl poke out from over the monsters arms. She was wearing an oversized pink shirt and had tiny pigtails.

“Boo!” she said. The big monster turned around and saw you and your team, the little girl squirming in his fluffy claws.

“Hmm? I wonder who those guys are. And I wonder why there’s four human girls with them,” he said. The little green monster looked up at the big one through his single giant eyeball.

“What?! Careful, Sulley. If they see the K-I-D...” he said. 

“It's fine. We got nothing to hide.” 

“But you're the CEO! You set the example.” Sulley caved and set the girl on the floor as the green thing ran over to you and your team, waving his little arms.

“Guys! Guys, it's not what it looks like. Okay, listen. That kid over there just popped out of nowhere!” he said. He slammed his fist into his hand and you all gave him disapproving looks.

“We gotta call the CDA. Uh... It's a...uh... Oh yeah, a Code 835!” the monster said. Sora and Vanitas pointed his Keyblade at him causing him to clam up.

“Are you trying to scare that little girl?” Sora asked. Sulley raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! I mean, no no no!” the green monster said as he waved his arms frantically. “We're done with scare power. Nobody's gettin' scared.” 

“Mike, take it easy,” Sulley said. 

“You should too, guys. Ya see? She's happy!” Rumi said as she allowed the toddler to play with her bunny ears.

“Bunny!” she said. The toddler giggled and ran up to Sulley and bounced in front of him, who pet her on the head, making her giggle.

“Oh,” Vanitas said. He and Sora chuckled sheepishly as they and Donald put away their weapons. They walked up to the girl and crouched down.

“Hello. My name is Sora.” 

“And I’m Vanitas.” 

“Boo!” the girl said as she trotted over to them. 

“Oh, is that your name? Nice to meet you, Boo,” Sora said. She screamed excitedly, making Rumi’s heart melt. 

“Hold on! You guys really aren't afraid of humans?” Mike said. 

“You do see us, right?” Roxy asked. 

“Mike Wazowski,” Boo said. She pointed at Donald, who jumped in surprise, staring at her with his cyclops eye.

“Come on, Boo! I'M Mike Wazowski,” Mike said. 

“Mike Wazowski.” She continued pointing at Donald, waving her arm up and down. Sulley laughed.

“Well, you can see the resemblance. That googly bear eye,” he said. 

“What's going on? I'm Donald Duck!” 

“Mike Wazowski!” Boo said. Sora and Vanitas smiled as she started chasing Donald around the room.

“A-hyuck! I'm Goofy.” 

“I’m (Y/N).”

“The name’s Roxy.”

“I’m her twin sister, Yui.” 

“And I’m Rumi!” 

“We’re Spirits!” you and the girls said. 

“Well, my name's Sulley. And this is--”

“Oh, we know. Mike Wazowski, right?” you said. 

“How come you girls look normal?” Sulley asked. 

“It’s part of our Spirit powers,” you and the girls said. Boo jumped out from behind you as you all laughed, but soon hid behind Sulley nervously.

“What's the matter, Boo?” he asked. Behind Donald, Negaverses appeared. You and your team rushed to the danger, summoning your weapons.

“Negaverses!” Donald and Goofy said. 

“Why do these always have to ruin the moment?” Roxy asked. 

“‘Cause they’re bad guys and that’s what they do,” you said. Sulley and Mike hid Boo behind the lobby desk.

“Stay here. Kitty will be back,” Sulley said. Boo nodded and hid.

“Those guys are right, Sulley. This has got ‘bad news’ written all over it,” Mike said. 

“Yeah, we gotta keep Boo safe.” 

“I’m on it!” They ran back to you and your team in the fray, quickly disposing of the troublesome creatures. Sulley gave Mike a high-five.

“All right!” Sulley said. 

“Nice, Sulley. Even with those extra pounds you put on,” Mike said. 

“Heh, still runnin' circles around you, butterball.” Boo poke out from her hiding place.

“Kitty!” she said. Sulley shuffled over to Boo as you and your team kept vigilant.

“So, any idea who those guys were?” Mike asked. 

“Those are called Negaverses. They’re creatures that try and possess Spirits such as us,” you said. 

“Yeah. But they can also possess non-Spirits as well,” Yui said. 

“Uh-huh. A while back, the King fought a whole bunch of battles against 'em with the three missing Keyblade wielders,” Goofy said. 

“Wait, really?!” You and the girls asked. 

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” Vanitas asked. 

“Well, no one told us!” you said. Sulley and Mike exchanged glances and Mike shrugged.

“The same three that we're looking for? Aqua, Terra, and Ventus?” Sora asked. 

“Uh-huh. We need more dependable help than YOU!” Donald said. 

“Hey!” Vanitas noticed how you looked down and ruffled your hair.

“You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Aunt Aqua,” you said. 

“Wait, Aunt Aqua?” Roxy asked. 

“Not so much of an aunt, but more of a babysitter.” 

“I know that’s not all that’s bothering you. Is it...her?” Vanitas said. 

“Yeah.” 

“Who?!” Roxy and your friends asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

“Still, how come the Negaverses are showin' up now?” Goofy asked.

“Is it because they use scream power?” Donald asked. 

“No. They must be after us. But then again, they can possess non-Spirits. So maybe they are using scream power,” Yui said. She looked over at Mike and Sulley and Mike stamped his foot.

“Hey, I told you we're through using that!” he said. Sulley nodded in agreement. “Besides, we have no idea who or what you're talking about.”

“Oh, you'd really like the King--” Sora said but you covered his mouth.

“Uh-oh!” Goofy said. 

“Order!” Donald and the twins said. You let go of Sora, who tried to rectify the suddenly awkward situation.

“Ummm...basically...we've come from far away to get rid of those creatures causing trouble. We're like...exterminators?” he said. You and your team nodded in agreement. 

“Just HOW far away?” Mike said. 

“As far as you can imagine,” Rumi said. Mike scratched his bald green head.

“Hmm... Okay, okay, let's just say we buy all that. Are those creeps dangerous?” he said.

“Extremely!” Donald said. 

“They sure gave Boo a scare,” Sulley said. Boo rubbed his fur and nodded. Mike turned to face Sulley.

“Sulley, I know you've missed her, but it's time to postpone our playdate,” he said. 

“You're right, Mikey. Let's get our girl home,” Sulley said. Mike nodded in agreement.

“What are you planning to do?” Vanitas asked. 

“It's kind of a long story...but Boo's from another world...and we gotta send her back there...to keep her safe,” Mike said. 

“Okay, then. We're gonna help you,” you said. 

“What?!” Boo reached for the floor and Sulley let her down.

“Well, obviously you can’t take down those Negaverses by yourself. If you did, you probably would get possessed by one,” Roxy said. 

“Yep. And they might try to cause more trouble, so, we wanna come along,” Sora said as he extended a hand.

“Great!” Mike said and shook his hand. “We could use a couple of exterminators around here!”

“Yeah, thanks!” Sulley said. Boo started running past the lobby and Sulley and Mike joined her, playfully roaring. Donald crossed his arms.

“You've always gotta help,” he said. 

“Hey, they need us. Besides, we need to figure out how all those Negaverses got here,” Sora said.

“I agree with Sora,” you said. 

~Le Time Skip b/c I’m Lazy AF~

“And that takes care of that!” Donald said. 

“Uh-huh,” Goofy said. You, Vanitas, Sora, and the girls gave a sheepish chuckle. Later, you all finally found Boo's door and jumped up to it, Mike and Sulley hanging from the rails.

“Okay, Boo. Time to go home. You must be tuckered out, but we'll play together real soon,” Sulley said. The rail buckled and began to slide the door along, with you and your team following on your own red door. You each gave your own excited shouts.

“What NOW?!” Mike asked. The doors arrived at the Laugh Floor, and you all jumped off as you all locked in your terminals. A hooded figure stepped toward them, sending you and your team on the defensive. The person took their hood off to reveal... 

“Mom!” Rumi said. 

“Gotta say, that strange facade had me fooled at first,” Elena said. 

“This is the part where you spout some mumbo jumbo and disappear, right?” Sora asked. Elena walked through one of the workstations.

“This whole world...was powered by scream. They converted the screams of human children into energy,” she said as she picked up one of the scream canisters. “And this very company was what made it all happen. It's as rich a source of negative emotion as we'll ever find.”

“For the last time, we already stopped doing that!” Mike said, angrily.

“Did you? Then how do you explain all these canisters of surplus scream?” Elena held up a canister. “This facility was everything I could hope for. And I was lucky enough to find a pawn whose heart was darkened by thoughts of revenge.”

“You mean Randall.” 

“All Randall ever cared about was winning. And this guy took advantage of that weakness,” Sulley said. 

“My heart is made of just one thing. And the Negaverses collected enough screams and sadness from those children to reconstruct it.”

“Yeah, and the whole time they were trashing our company in the process!” Mike said. Sulley held Mike back from rushing at Elene, but Mike struggled against the grip on his head.

“But, even with all this negative emotion, my heart is still incomplete. I need something else,” Elena said. She dropped the canister. It clanged to the ground before screaming off into the air.

“Whoa!” You and Sora said. Sulley dodged away, taking Mike and Boo with him. You all watched as the canister flew around the expansive room, bouncing off the walls until it ran out of scream and crashed to the floor. Mike and Sulley scowled as it rolled to Sora's feet.

“You know, I just realized something. The half of Vanitas that sleeps on...inside of your heart,” Elena said. Sora and Vanitas turned around and gasped as Elena held her bow and arrow just inches from them. Before she could attack, someone landed in between them.

“No...” Elena said. 

“Missed me?” the person asked. She stood up and you recognized her. 

“It’s her,” you said. 

Her outfit (but picture it black):

“I thought that you were trapped in the Realm of Darkness!” Elena said. 

“Yeah. Well, let’s just say I had a little help,” the woman said. 

“Grr, this isn’t over!” Elena then disappeared through a dark corridor. The woman sighed and turned around.

“Alright, which one of you is (Y/N) and Vanitas?” she asked. Sora and Roxy quickly pushed you and Vanitas towards her. 

“I thought so. Nice to finally meet you. The name’s Celina. I’m a Spirit. And also Xehanort’s daughter.” 

“Huh?!” you all asked.

To be continued...