#the fox was supposed to look like thread | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloudwhisper23 · 5 months ago

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Guess who did another art trade with @pixlokita? This one's about their Werebunny AU! Hope y'all enjoy!

Warning: 11k words

Jeremy cursed as he dropped the screwdriver. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me, buddy.”

He put pressure on the gushing stream of blood coming from his thumb muttering to himself about how dumb he was. Mangle’s ear flopped as they tilted their two heads in confusion.

“I’m okay, bud.” Jeremy tried to flash a smile, but the blood leaking down his wrist was too distracting. “Okay, I need to find a sink or something.”

Standing up made Jeremy dizzy, but he managed to get to a wall and lean against it as he made his way to the kitchen. “I could get fired for this, you know,” he remarked to the animatronic clinging to the ceiling above him as he walked. “We’re not supposed to tamper with the animatronics at all, and clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The beeping and static overhead did not give any indication that they felt anything in regard to his response.

Jeremy stumbled. “Whoa, I think I need to sit down for a second…” He slid down the wall as black spots danced across his vision.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before a heavy weight dropped into his lap and cold plastic pressed against the side of his face. “Augh! I’m okay, Mango! I’m fine!” Jeremy batted at the white plastic with both hands, smearing blood across their face.

“I, uh. I need to get up, bud.”

The mangled (and now bloody) fox animatronic tilted their two heads yet again, seeming to be unable to understand what Jeremy wanted.

“Can you…?” Jeremy tried to shift his weight beneath the pile of metal in his lap.

Mangle’s ears lifted, and they crept onto the floor, offering a paw to help Jeremy get up.

“Um, thanks buddy.” Jeremy still wasn’t sure why the animatronic was so fond of him, but he’d found himself returning the favor whenever possible. The company had long given up on repairing Mangle, but Jeremy wanted to help them look nice. Just like Ramona and Becky for me, he thought to himself.

Shaking away the fondness from the memory, Jeremy let his weight shift onto the animatronic. Static buzzed loudly out of Mangle’s voicebox, but they hardly bent under his weight. Jeremy decided that washing out the wound could wait until he was home. For now, he needed to clean up the mess he’d made in the pizzeria.

The wrapped bandage itched. Jeremy had wrapped a ton of gauze around his hand and refused to explain to anybody what had happened. At least, not in any detail.

Ramona had glanced at it with suspicion the last time they talked, but she never liked to pry. She told him that if he changed his bandage at her apartment, he wasn’t allowed to get blood everywhere. “It will stain the countertops,” Ramona said matter-of-factly.

So Jeremy had gotten away with no one saying anything. But the longer he left it, the more it itched and burned. He flicked through the cameras without really thinking about it, hardly remembering to wind the music box on time.

His hand burned, and when Jeremy got home from his shift, he ripped it free and turned the spigot on, running cold water over his scabby and swollen skin. Jeremy knew he probably should’ve gone to an actual doctor about his injury, but he figured that stitches couldn’t be too hard, and it seemed like the skin itself was healing fine.

Maybe he got an infection from the cut though. Jeremy wasn’t very good at remembering the medical advice Becky gave him, much less how to clean a cut properly. But the skin itself looked fine. There was something shimmery beneath it, which Jeremy could almost ignore if it didn’t make his skin burn so badly.

Jeremy’s dog whined at his feet, impatient for his morning meal. “Just a minute, Percy.” Jeremy tore the thread out of his injury, glad that the skin had started to seal itself back together.

He carefully rewrapped the injury, glad that the itching had gone away a little bit, at least. Jeremy kicked his shoes off and loosened his tie as he went over to fill Percy’s food bowl and check on the water level. “Doing good there, bud? I need a nap first, but I’ll walk you in a bit.”

Jeremy yawned, scratching at his head to loosen the pressure after he removed his ponytail. “Just… one… a quick nap…”

He stumbled forward, faceplanting into the floor as consciousness slipped away. Percy whined, nudging at his face and licking it as his spine started to bend and elongate, fur sprouting from his hands and curled claws burst from his fingertips.

Percy growled at the intrusion of the new characteristics, but he stuck by Jeremy’s side as his eyes rolled back and his ears melded back into the sides of his head to make room for longer, fluffier ears more equipped for a rabbit. And that was what Jeremy’s body was shifting into. He was growing larger, his clothes no longer enough to hold the mass of his entire body.

Jeremy’s claws lashed out at Percy, tearing the fur and skin of his dog. Percy whimpered, backing away to get out of his space as his nose wrinkled and twitched rapidly, taking in the surroundings in a new way. His ears folded back as a deeper growl vibrated in his throat.

Percy scurried away, not quickly enough as Jeremy bounded forward and sank his teeth into the poor dog’s back. Percy barked, a frightened noise as he tried to squirm free from Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy gnawed for a few moments before releasing the dog, blood dripping down his fur.

Percy escaped and rushed into Jeremy’s bedroom, hiding under his owner’s blankets as he trembled.

Jeremy’s nose twitched again, nosing against his front door. Offended by the obstacle in his way, Jeremy’s claws dug deep into the hardwood, scratching a jagged hole in the floor and part of the door.

When Jeremy finally came to, his clothes were tattered and hanging off his body, and his mouth was full of blood. Dazed, he got to his feet and immediately winced as splinters dug into his bare skin. What happened? He blinked at his surroundings, startled to see claw marks in the furniture and the floor. Blood smeared across the floor by the couch, which was presumably where he’d taken his nap…

Had he ever laid down for the nap? Jeremy couldn’t recall, trying to remember and think about what could’ve possibly happened while he was asleep. He spat the blood out of his mouth, wiping at his mouth, only to realize that there was blood under his fingernails and all over his hands.

“Percy?” he called out tentatively, hating how gravelly his voice came out.

Surely nothing had happened to his dog, right? Jeremy cautiously stepped across the floor as he searched for his dog. The clumps of fur were not a promising sight as he looked around his house.

“Percy?” Jeremy tried to call out again, but his voice failed him.

He felt very ill, flicking the light on in his bathroom to stare at his very pale, bloodied face. Nothing ached or hurt, but he was absolutely covered in blood.

Jeremy splashed his face with water, scrubbing at the blood staining his face and hands, desperate to get the sight out of his head. Pieces of his uniform slid down his arms into the water of the sink.

What had even happened?

The shower afterward was completely necessary, and Jeremy felt feverish from everything that had happened. His memory was beginning to return, although he did not feel that he’d been in control for most of it, feeling defensive enough to lash out at Percy, who’d only been trying to help.

The bloodstained lump on his bed was something he pointedly made himself ignore when grabbing underwear and socks. He needed more time before he could try to deal with that.

Tears built up in his throat as he grabbed his spare uniform from the shelf by the door and made sure it was fully intact for his shift that night. At least there was something that hadn’t completely gone wrong.

I need a cup of coffee or something, Jeremy thought to himself, shuddering. But he did not feel comfortable enough to do much in his own home, not with reminders of his outburst everywhere.

He avoided his apartment for the better part of a week after that, knowing that it wasn’t healthy to cope by avoiding what happened, but he just couldn’t go back, knowing what he’d done to Percy.

By Wednesday’s shift, Jeremy was properly jittery as he clocked in for work and walked down to the office. The music box was fully wound, as Scott sat in the chair, patiently waiting for him with a friendly smile. “Hiya Jeremy!”

“You sticking around today?” Jeremy asked? He knew about Scott’s tendency to kind of just come in during shifts and stick around. Phil said it was because his own work was boring, and besides, Scott loved being helpful, despite being 7 years old.

“Yep! I’ll keep that nasty balloon boy away!” Scott chirped cheerfully.

“Well, that’s fantastic, buddy. Thanks for that.” Jeremy squatted down to squint at the camera screens, his typical habit to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be.

“Is your hand all better now?” Scott asked.

“Huh?” Jeremy glanced up from the cameras, momentarily distracted.

“Well, Dad said you’d done something to your hand, and we could all see the bandages you’d put over it. ‘Course, he said it was none of our business since you didn’t file any paperwork for it, but-“

“You just can’t keep your nose out of it, can you?” Jeremy shook his head, flipping through the cameras again to make sure the toys were in their places.

The familiar sound of Mangle creeping around in the vents was not as reassuring as it used to be. And Mangle didn’t really like the other employees either. Jeremy had no idea if Scott and Mangle got along even.

“Get your mask ready,” Jeremy said quietly, checking the vent light. Sure enough, Mangle peered into the room from the vent as he shoved the Freddy head over Scott’s head.

“I can do it myself!” Scott exclaimed, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Wait, where’s your mask?”

Jeremy crouched by the vent and reached a hand out to touch the cool plastic of Mangle’s mask. The animatronic fox let out a series of happy clicks, nudging harder into his hand before ducking away to presumably wander around the pizzeria some more.

“How did you not die?” Scott asked, tearing the Freddy head off to drop it back on the corner of the desk. He flipped through the cameras while waiting for an answer, stopping to wind the music box.

“Mangle likes me,” Jeremy shrugged, peering at the cameras over Scott’s head. “Looks like a quiet shift today.”

“Yeah, if Mangle counts as a quiet shift,” Scott muttered, dropping the monitor back to the desk. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Jeremy replied.

“You night guards are so weird. My dad got all affectionate about Foxy, even though he had to pull out the stun gun for him. Masks don’t work on all of them, and my dad had to have all the affection for the one most likely to kill him.” Scott eyed Jeremy wearily. “Kind of like you, actually.”

“Thanks. Maybe Foxy wouldn’t have killed your dad, you know.” Jeremy glanced at the stage camera again. Toy Bonnie was noticeably absent, but there was nothing to worry about yet.

“He would’ve. He tried constantly.” Scott ducked under the desk, and Jeremy heard faint mechanical laughter before a loud clanging noise. Balloon Boy sprinted out of the room with one of the masks in his hand.

“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Jeremy sighed as Scott stared after the animatronic. “If anything comes in here, you get the mask.”

“But it’s-“

“I’m the night guard, buddy.” Jeremy shook his head, flipping through the cameras. There. Toy Bonnie had slipped into a party room. “I gotta keep you safe, first and foremost.”

“They would never hurt a kid,” Scott muttered, staring into the hallway, hands clenched tightly around his flashlight.

“Don’t even think about going after him, Scott.” Jeremy wound the music box, not sparing a glance at the kid. “There’s too many factors out there, and you know exactly what Phil would say.”

“Yeah yeah.” Scott scowled. “He’s never taken a mask before.”

“First time for everything,” Jeremy sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d been feeling more exhausted lately, but that was from nightmares. He really needed to get better sleep.

“Bonnie,” Scott whispered, dropping the flashlight to reach for the mask. His hands trembled, and Jeremy was reminded that Scott was still a little kid.

He heard the sound of Toy Bonnie crawling out of the vent, but instead of reaching for Jeremy, Toy Bonnie went for Scott, who hadn’t finished putting the mask on.

“Wait, hang on-“ Jeremy whacked the animatronic’s arm with the camera monitor in his hands. The animatronic didn’t spare him a glance as it pulled Scott across the desk by his shirt. “Leave him alone! Hey!” Jeremy’s yelling turned into a growl as his shirt ripped to allow room for him to grow larger and larger.

The animatronic rabbit twitched backward, seemingly surprised and maybe even a little afraid. However, Jeremy’s transformation did not seem to make Toy Bonnie more inclined to let Scott go. If anything, Toy Bonnie pulled the kid closer as he backed away from the desk.

Jeremy’s own ears flattened against his head as he vaulted over the desk to pry Scott free from the animatronic’s grasp. The sound of ripping fabric didn’t deter the giant golden rabbit. His focus fixed on what he saw as a danger, and his teeth broke through the cheap plastic easily, puncturing fluid containers and severing wires.

Toy Bonnie’s screech echoed, even as it abruptly cut off by Jeremy destroying the voicebox. Black shimmering liquid dripped down Jeremy’s maw as he stalked forward, whiskers twitching as he sensed more animatronics beginning to stir.

Scott got to his feet wearily, tugging his torn shirt back to its place. He silently pressed himself against the wall behind him, knowing better than to make any sudden moves as he placed the Bonnie head on the floor. It would do him no good to appear as a threat.

Scott’s decision to not look like the old purple rabbit seemed to prove right as an animatronic with torn fabric arms and exposed wires stalked his way into the hallway to investigate. His ears seemed to move much easier than Toy Bonnie’s as they swiveled to express fear, even without a proper face to do so.

Jeremy did not seem to recognize the distinction, growling at the new opponent in his space. Bonnie’s head tilted to the side before he turned to race down the hallway with heavy echoing steps. Jeremy bounded after him, much faster as his limbs were more natural, taking on extra power after Jeremy’s transition into a larger, more predatory form.

Bonnie spared no time in his own fearful screech, something that was answered with a deep, ominous growl. Scott, somehow still unafraid, followed the fighting rabbits to investigate.

The giant golden rabbit towered over the animatronic standing in his way, a similarly colored animatronic bear with no pupils. The bear’s ears wiggled as it set in place, a firm grip around Jeremy’s wrist to stop him from striking out with claws.

A pressure built up in the back of Scott’s head as images and unspoken words forced their way into his head. Based on the way the giant bunny was twitching and shaking his head, it appeared he wasn’t the only one. The angry bunny let out an outraged whine as he was tossed against a wall with seemingly no effort. The unspoken command lingered in the air as the rabbit dug into the tiles to launch himself toward the exit door.

The golden bear turned to Scott, who’d finally gained the sense of mind to realize that maybe the animatronic would turn on him. He gasped out a frightened breath before the barely tangible forms of two children roughly his age appeared in front of him. The girl tried to give him a reassuring smile as the boy stared down the hallway where the rabbit had disappeared. He picked up the night guard hat with what appeared to be disinterest, before crushing it into a tight ball.

“Bad rabbit,” he said softly.

The girl nodded. “We’ll keep you safe until 6 a.m., okay?”

Scott brightened at that. Nothing could hurt him now, especially with the animatronics seeming to avoid the back area he’d ended up in. Bonnie peered at him with red LEDs before slowly making his way back into the corridor, presumably to continue nosing around like the rabbit he was.

Ramona hated to be this nosy. She did. Really. But when Jeremy wasn’t around and missed their weekly coffee, she had the right to be suspicious. Especially after that pizzeria started asking for more help again. Night shift position. That was what Jeremy’s job was. Which meant the first step was seeing if he’d quit.

“Jeremy!” Ramona called, knocking harshly at his door.

When she got no answer, she started peering in the windows, looking for some indication that something had happened. The curtains were drawn, though, so she couldn’t see into the house. He’s lucky I keep a spare key, Ramona thought to herself as she let herself into the house.

“Jeremy?” Ramona called into the house, trying not to gasp at the ripped-up floorboards and tattered furniture. “Jer, are you home?”

Stepping over the destroyed floorboards, she peered at the bloodstained carpet, feeling a flicker of concern. “Jeremy?” She knew her voice was getting louder as she became more afraid of what had happened to her brother.

A whimper from Jeremy’s bedroom made her whirl around and rush to the room. “Percy?”

Jeremy’s dog had nestled underneath his blanket, soaking them so thoroughly with blood. It was Percy’s blood, she thought to herself, approaching her brother’s injured dog cautiously. “Hey, Percy. It’s okay. It’s me, remember? Auntie Mona?”

Percy whined again, blinking through the blood on his face.

“Alright,” Ramona took a deep breath. “Perce, how do you feel about coming to stay with me for a while? Looks like you might need it pretty badly.”

This was decidedly not a good sign.

It had to be raining every day this week, didn’t it? Michael glowered at the clouds, hating every moment of the weather that made his skin itch and burn. He couldn’t go outside, not for anything.

It was lucky Michael could even bear a shower anymore.

The bills on his table protested his refusal to go outside, of course. He’d already been fired from two jobs for refusing to work on days when it rained. He’d lost a few more interview opportunities for cancelling last minute because of the rain.

Mike’s eyes drifted back to the newspaper advertisement. Much as he hated to admit it, Freddy’s was probably the only job that would not care if he skipped a shift because of rain.

Still, he didn’t want to work at Freddy’s under any circumstances. Not after the… incident…

Michael ripped his gaze away from the newspaper, the memories already making him feel ill. The letter on the edge of his table sat untouched. He didn’t want to know what his father wanted either. He’d rather stand in a thunderstorm than see what his father needed from him this time.

That might be the only option, he thought duly, eyeing his overflowing trashcan. With a painful sigh, Michael yanked his raincoat from the rack and slung it across his shoulders. The hood pulled tight over his head, making his scalp burn. He retrieved his umbrella from behind the sofa (how had it gotten there?) before compacting the trash to make all of his garbage fit in the bag.

With only another moment of hesitation, Michael twisted the doorknob and stepped outside.

“Well, fancy that! Michael Schmidt out in the rain! I thought you were a witch or something with the way you avoided water!” Michael’s elderly neighbor called out, unphased by the rain like she always was.

“Good afternoon, Miss Wess,” Michael replied politely.

“I don’t know about good,” Miss Wess wrinkled her nose. “Poor Logan just can’t handle this type of weather. Kind of like you, actually.”

Michael forced a smile, glancing at the irritated cat at Mis Wess’ feet. His tail drooped as he glowered at the puddles on the sidewalk. “We can’t all be unbothered by the weather like you are, Miss Wess.”

“We’ve known each other long enough, dear. Call me Beverly.”

Michael didn’t reply after that, opting to walk toward the dumpster on the street corner, knowing she wouldn’t follow him.

“You know, a handsome man like you could find a woman easily! I’m sure she’d be more than happy to handle chores like going outside in the rain!” Miss Wess called cheerfully before heading back into her house for the sake of her poor cat.

Michael did not need a girlfriend. He did not want a girlfriend. He did not deserve to be loved, after all. That ship sailed a long time ago, he thought bitterly, shuddering as he felt his damp hair on his face.

The letter on the table mocked him as he threw his wet coat over a chair, water splashing on the surface of the paper. He ignored it, more concerned about tearing the damp shirt off his body, frantically rushing to grab a towel to dry his hair as well.

The shirt went in the sink as Michael sank to his knees sobbing into the towel. Maybe he should’ve just bit the bullet and opened the letter from his father, but now it was near impossible to even imagine it.

He glanced at the bills again with a pained groan later that night. He really needed to get a job.

It’s my own fault. I suppose Freddy’s would be the only place that would hire me at this point. With a very aggravated groan, Michael dialed the number on the newspaper clipping.

“Uh, hello? Hello, hello?” The voice at the other end seemed distracted and maybe even a little nervous. “You’ve, uh, reached Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. How may I help you today?”

“Hi, this is Michael. Urm. Michael Schmidt. I saw your ad in the newspaper? I was wondering if I could apply for the night guard position.”

“Oh, you were?” The guy chuckled a little. “Well, that, uh. That’d be great! When could you come in to interview?”

“Um…” Michael tried to think. “Do you know when the rain is supposed to stop?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” Michael heard some rustling noises as the guy on the other end of the phone presumably checked the forecast. “Well, it’s uh. It’s supposed to be done raining tomorrow afternoon. Will you be able to come in tomorrow?”

“Yes. Does three o’clock work?” Michael asked.

“Uh, sure! I’ll mark you down for three o’clock. I’ll also ask that you bring a copy of your resume, uh, a driver’s license or passport, and uh. No, that about covers it. You’ll be wanting to look for a guy called Lloyd. I’ll er, I’ll check to see that he’s in tomorrow, hang on.”

There were more rustling noises. “Yep! We’re in luck, he’ll be here. So you’ll want to come in and talk to Lloyd, and he’ll interview you for the job. Sound okay with you?”

“Yes, that sounds fine.” Michael found himself twisting the phone cord tightly around his finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow at three.”

“Nope! I actually don’t work that shift. But uh, I’ll see you some other time. If you get the job, that is.” He chuckled again. “I’ll uh, catch you on the flipside!”

“Goodbye-“ Michael started to say as the other man hung up on him. Weird.

Well, a job interview seemed promising enough. That was how it always sounded though. The trick was keeping the job, really.

Still, Michael had to at least keep this job through a paycheck or two. Maybe the rain would properly let up enough for him to keep the job long enough to pay off his bills.

The next morning, Michael woke up relieved to hear water dripping from the roof. There was no sound of rain pouring from the actual sky, just the leftovers from the day before. Slightly hopeful about how things were turning out, Michael went to brush his teeth and get prepared for the day.

“Someone’s energized today!” Miss Wess called when Michael went for a short walk that morning.

“No reason not to!” he called back. “The rain’s stopped.”

“You and Logan both seem pleased today.” Miss Wess shook her head, smiling slightly. “Michael dear, do you happen to have a bit of time this morning to come have a chat?”

“I suppose…” Michael considered it for a moment. “So long as it’s only during the morning, I think that’d be fine.”

“Great! Come right on in when you’re finished with your walk then.”

Odd… Michael shook his head, continuing his walk while he still felt the light joy in his chest.

When he got to Miss Wess’ house, she offered him a cup of tea. “Freshly brewed!”

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing too crazy. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Miss Wess asked, sipping at her own cup of tea.

“No…?” Michael sat uncomfortably with his tea in hand. “Why?”

“Well, I’m going on a trip with my daughter next week, and I need someone to watch Logan here! He’d get so lonely without me here.”

Logan seemed disinclined to acknowledge Miss Wess’ words, instead choosing to jump onto Michael’s lap and startle him.

“Fancy that, he already likes you!” Miss Wess exclaimed as Logan put his front paws against Michael’s chest to sniff his face for a moment before licking it.

“Ah! I can see that.” Michael gently pushed Logan off of his lap. “So you want me to cat sit for you?”

“Only if you’re willing to. I can find someone else if you don’t want to, but I figured this would work out better! You live right next door, so all you’d need to do is come in and make sure he’s fed and has water. Oh, and you’ll need to walk him twice a day so he can stretch his legs properly. Logan loves to be outside.”

“Right…” Michael debated with himself for a moment before asking his next question. “How many days will you be gone?”

“Oh, from Sunday morning until Saturday morning. I should be back Saturday afternoon.” Miss Wess could clearly see that Michael was considering it. “And, it’s only fair that I pay you for your time, of course. I’d say $500 would cover the week, wouldn’t you?”

Michael blinked. That would more than easily cover his bills for the month. He’d have less to worry about with his new job if he already had the bills covered. “I suppose…”

“Or I could say $750?” Miss Wess offered.

“I don’t need that much,” Michael said quickly. “I can watch Logan for you. You said walk him twice a day?”

“Yes, and one of those times, I’d appreciate if you make sure his bowl is full.” Miss Wess seemed happier knowing that she’d sorted that out. “And if you’d like, I could introduce you to my daughter on Saturday when we get back.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Miss Wess.” Michael forced himself to take a sip of his tea in order to stop himself from scoffing at the stupid suggestion. She couldn’t possibly be trying to set him up with her daughter, surely?

“Alright, fine, fine. You’d like to take your own pick of the pack, that’s fine. But you will need to stop by anyway to return the key.” Miss Wess’ eyes twinkled as she finished up her tea.

Michael smiled thinly, feeling a bit hollow at the thought. He couldn’t bear to try to meet new people, to try to explain to them that he didn’t deserve their love, that he was a monster and a killer. “Thank you for the tea, Miss Wess.”

“I already told you to call me Beverly,” she scolded gently. “But you’re welcome here anytime, dear.”

Michael nodded, but he couldn’t bring himself to say much else. “I need to go…”

“Oh, that’s fine dear. Have a good day!” Beverly Wess watched Michael hurry to leave her house. “Oh, that poor man. He needs someone to comfort him.”

“Mrow?” Logan meowed, putting his paws on her knees, preparing to jump up.

“Yes, Logan. He needs some love in his life. I don’t know what happened to leave such a dark shadow over him, but he’s too lonely for his own good.” Beverly sighed, shaking her head. “Too sad for his own good too.”

Michael left early for his interview, knowing that he needed to make a good impression. Sure, they probably were going to hire him just because he was interested in the job, but maybe he wasn’t the only one interested in the job.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into the pizzeria, feeling the familiar scent wash over him and the familiar site greeting him. The animatronics were different, but that was the only thing that seemed to have changed. What appeared to be a Freddy and Chica model were performing onstage, and he could make out a mangled torso of another animatronic in the corner, surrounded by toddlers. Is that even safe? he wondered.

Shaking his head, he asked an employee where he could find Lloyd. They gestured toward a corridor where the light seemed to flicker. That wasn’t ominous at all, Michael thought, but he entered the hallway wearily.

The music felt more muted in the hallway, and Michael could see party rooms lining the corridor. Party room 2, he thought to himself, reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, you here for the night guard job?” A woman interrupted his thoughts, grabbing his arm to stop him from entering the party room.

“Uh, yeah?” Michael blinked, surprised as the woman yanked him away from the door and pulled him a ways down the hallway. “Hey, what are you-“

“Shut up.” She seemed to assess him. “What’s your name?”

“Michael? Michael Schmidt?” Was this some kind of extra test? To make sure the night guard was up for the position? Michael’s eyebrows scrunched, and he pulled his arm free. “Who are you?”

“Ramona Fitzgerald,” she answered, still assessing him. “Hmm… your clothes are shabby, although you did brush your teeth for this…” She stuck her hand in his hair, yanking him to her level. “Greasy hair though… Are you unemployed right now?”

“Yes?” Michael tried to flatten his hair. “Why are you grilling me?”

“I’m the one asking the questions here, Schimdt.” She frowned at him.

“Well, you’re interrupting my interview time, so we can talk later-“

“Shut up. I’m not done with you yet.” Ramona’s eyes narrowed. “Are you British?”

“I- I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Michael replied defensively. “What is your deal?”

“What’s your deal?” she shot back at him. “Mister distinguished, showing up in a shabby button-down with greasy hair to a job interview.”

“It’s Freddy Fazbear’s. You probably care more than they do.”

“What if they put you on day shift?” she kept going, undeterred by the fact that he was giving her good answers.

“Miss Fitzgerald!” A voice from down the hall called. “I thought I told you to quit interrogating my interview subjects.”

“I’ll stop when I’m dead,” Ramona muttered. “Where’s my brother, Lloyd?”

“Your brother is missing?” Michael asked, suddenly completely interested. “What happened?”

“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be here.” Ramona glowered at Lloyd. “Go to your stupid interview. I’ll be waiting.”

With that ominous message out of the way, Michael went back to where Lloyd was waiting for him.

“Sorry about her, Mister…?”

“Schimdt. Michael Schmidt.”

“Right. She’s been acting crazy since her brother went missing a few days ago. Seems to think we took him out to replace him.” Lloyd shook his head in disbelief. “Which is utterly ridiculous. Jeremy was an excellent night guard, and he got along with the animatronics better than most. None of that ‘the animatronics are haunted’ nonsense either. No, if we’d had a problem with Jeremy, we would’ve fired him.” Lloyd cleared his throat and started the interview.

Leaving the interview with more questions that he should not have wanted to investigate, Michael was given a pat on the back, a set of keys, and a uniform. Lloyd told him his next shift would be tomorrow night, starting at 12 a.m., which was shockingly early.

“You got the job then?” Ramona asked dryly, following him out.

“Were you standing outside for that entire interview?” Michael asked, somewhat glad that she’d actually stuck around. Maybe she’d have some of the answers he needed.

“Maybe.”

“When you said your brother went missing, I assumed that meant he was an younger brother,” Michael remarked.

“He-“ Ramona stopped herself. “He’s only a year older than me.”

“Yeah, but I thought he’d be like, five. Not twenty-two.”

“Details details,” Ramona replied dismissively. “I didn’t realize this got at you. Concerned about the kids, are you?”

“Someone should be,” Michael muttered.

“Then why aren’t you working a day shift?” Ramona asked.

“The position was for night shift. So I’m working night shift.”

“Yeah, but-“ Ramona paused, realizing that they were just continuing down the sidewalk. “Do you not even have a car?”

“No?” Michael blinked at her.

“Okay, no, we’re not doing this. Come here.”

“What-“

“I’m driving you home, this is ridiculous.”

“I don’t need-“

“GET IN THE CAR, MICHAEL.” Ramona’s tone left no room for negotiation.

“Yes ma’am,” Michael replied weakly.

He pointedly did not address the dog sleeping in the back seat of the car. The dog blinked sleepily as he got in, but Ramona cooed softly at him, telling him everything was fine and he could go back to sleep. The injuries on the dog’s face begged to be asked about, but Michael didn’t think he deserved the right to ask.

“So you wanted the night shift, or you’re just taking the night shift because that’s what they offered you?”

“I’m taking the night shift because I’d rather the night shift than the day shift. I’m not good with kids,” Michael replied stiffly. “Next question.”

“Why Freddy’s? Why now?”

“It’ll pay the bills.”

“Yeah, but why Freddy’s?”

“I’ve been in and out of jobs for a while…” Michael shifted uncomfortably.

“So you wouldn’t be able to get a job anywhere else.” Ramona spared him a glance as she drove. “You’re a mess, no offense.”

“I’m aware.” Michael stared out the window. “Why are you so determined to bug me about this stuff, by the way?”

“Because. You seem almost genuine, but I’m not entirely sure on your motives just yet.”

“Wow, thanks,” Michael said sarcastically, finally facing her. “I’m glad I’ve gotten to the stage of mostly unsuspicious in your books.”

“No need to be rude about it,” Ramona wrinkled her nose. “I just want to make sure my brother is okay.”

The dog in the back seat whined.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Percy. We’ll find him,” Ramona told the golden retriever.

“So, I’m guessing that’s your brother’s dog?” Michael asked wearily.

“He sure is. I went to Jer’s apartment to look for him first, but he wasn’t there. The whole place was trashed, and Percy looked like he’d been gnawed on by a big animal. Couldn’t find it anywhere though, so I have no idea what actually happened. So I went to ask Lloyd if he knew where my brother was and found him conducting interviews.”

“I figured I wasn’t the first interrogation,” Michael observed.

“You weren’t. The others wussed out and just left though.” Ramona shrugged, pulling into Michael’s driveway. “I guess I helped test the proper strength for that job. You know the place is haunted, right?”

“Those are just rumors,” Michael answered, digging for his keys in his pocket.

“Uh huh. No, with the chompers on the Toy Bonnie animatronic? For sure those things get out and attack people. I’d bet either he or one of the other freaks from that place attacked Percy. Which means they probably got my brother too.”

Ramona let Percy out of the car to follow them into the house, something Michael really wished she’d asked him for permission for first. But she seemed the type to just do whatever she wanted to, so he wasn’t too offended. It was honestly just as invasive as she’d been since he met her.

He swiped the bills and his untouched letter from his father off the table and put them away in a cupboard. Ramona raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “So, you think the animatronics attacked your brother?” he asked, hoping to distract from his rapid movement.

“Yeah… I think it’s kinda suspicious that Toy Bonnie was removed from the show. Apparently all three of them are typically onstage at the same time.”

“It did feel weird that Freddy was there without Bonnie today.” Michael shrugged, setting the bundle on the table. “But I don’t know that I believe that the animatronics are haunted.”

“How did they get into Jeremy’s house then?” Ramona countered. Percy seemed to agree with that as he paced around Michael’s kitchen.

“I don’t know! Burglars get into people’s houses all the time.”

“But they don’t chew on people’s pets.”

Michael’s mouth thinned. “Okay. Maybe the dog got hurt while they were on a walk or something and that’s why.”

“Jeremy would never mistreat his dog,” Ramona argued. “How dare you imply that.”

“I’m not implying anything!” Michael held his hands up in surrender.

“Mhm,” Ramona glowered at him. “Well, seeing as you seem invested in this, how about we team up? You help me find my brother, and I leave you alone with your questions answered. I get my brother back and you get to do your job in peace.”

“That doesn’t seem like an even trade-off,” Michael muttered.

“Oh, you want to play that game?” Ramona’s eyes flashed. “You really want to play that game with me, Michael Afton?”

Michael stiffened. “You-“

“I don’t know why you’re trying to lie about your legal name on job applications, but I bet they’d like to know that you’re not who you say you are. Especially since a ton of kids went missing a few years ago at this exact location.”

Michael’s mouth thinned. “You’re-“

“A bitch? Please, I’ve heard that from plenty of men before. You WILL help me, or your secret is out.”

They stared at each other, neither happy with the fact that they had to work together.

“Fine. What do you want from me?” Michael asked, resigned to this mess he’d gotten wrapped up in.

“Tell me about your night shifts. If anything weird happens, I want to know.”

“And if nothing weird happens? If there’s no sign of hauntings?”

Ramona rolled her eyes. “Well, you still have to help me find my brother. If it wasn’t the haunted animatronics, then it had to be something.”

Michael scowled. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

They stared at each other for another long moment before Ramona clicked her tongue and walked out, Percy following slowly behind her. He looked back at Michael and whined for a moment before hurrying after Ramona.

Michael rubbed his face. This was not going to be a pleasant experience, he could already feel it.

The week crawled by slowly. Michael got to a certain point where he just moved Logan’s food and water to his house and walked the cat after his shift each morning and then let the cat hang out and wander around his house. He’d stupidly bought a litterbox, but Miss Wess had paid him half before she’d left and was promising the second half after she got back, so it was fine.

Logan yawned, stretching across Michael’s torso.

“Oof!” Michael coiled in on himself as Logan launched himself off Michael’s stomach. “I thought I told you to quit that!” he scolded.

Logan just looked up at him before meowing.

“Nuisance,” Michael muttered. “I’ll feed you in a minute.”

Logan meowed at him again before slipping out of the room.

Sighing, Michael stretched before getting up. He’d given himself a few hours before his shift, just like he usually did, but most of his time came in the actual morning, which was when he’d typically call Ramona to give an update.

He glared at the stormy weather as he fed Logan, not happy that his shift was going to start with rain. He’d tried to get out of it, of course, but Phil, the guy who had the shift before him, had a child who’d gone to work with him. And Scott couldn’t stick around the pizzeria for a 12 hour shift, not when he had school in the morning.

So Michael had to go to work in the rain, something he hated much more than anything else he could imagine. He shoved his hat onto his head and double-checked his tie before giving Logan a thumbs up and walking out the door, his umbrella snapping open.

He’d long given up on being in a calm state of being before work, knowing that the animatronics were hunting him down (thanks for the late word of warning, Phil!) and wanted to kill him. There was no way he was going to be fine at the beginning of his shift.

Discarding the umbrella in the corner of the office, Michael took a deep breath, opening the cameras to wind the music box. Having the music playing loudly in his ears meant he did not hear the footsteps quickly approaching his room until his monitor was ripped from his hands by a golden hand.

Startled, Michael jerked back from the animatronic bear with a stuttered gasp. The combination of the water soaking through his clothes and into his skin and the very angry Fredbear standing before him was altogether too much.

Warmth seeped down his leg, making Michael dimly register that he’d wet himself. The animatronic didn’t leave him much chance to think about it though, as he was hefted out of his chair by his throat, leaving his feet scrambling for purchase on the table’s surface.

He choked out a breath as his hat tumbled from his hair and clattered to the desk, right next to the cracked camera screen. Feebly, he thought this is it, certain that he was finally earning his death for what he’d done to his brother four years ago.

Hot breath left Michael suffocating as the animatronic growled softly in his ear. “We’re taking back what we deserve.”

Michael closed his eyes, knowing that he deserved whatever the animatronic decided to do with him.

“Wait,” a soft voice echoed in his mind. “He’s not doing what he’s supposed to do. Why isn’t he begging?”

“He doesn’t have to beg. He just needs to die. We need to make sure it never happens again,” another voice argued. Her voice sounded harsher, more firm. “No more golden bunnies to hunt us. No more monsters to hurt or kill.”

Michael recognized one of the voices as his brother, but he couldn’t place the other. Weakly, he gasped out, “I don’t deserve to live anyway. Why would I beg?”

“Something’s wrong,” Evan whispered softly.

The tight grip around Michael’s throat loosened slightly.

The girl groaned, but she muttered something to herself before the animatronic completely let go of Michael. Pain flared up his whole leg as he collapsed back to the floor.

He groaned weakly, looking up to see two small children standing over him. Evan, he thought in a daze, trying to sit up. Michael wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back against the desk, waiting for one of them to say something.

“Who are you?” the girl demanded.

“Michael.” He stared at her. “Who are you?”

“Unbelievable,” she scoffed. “Right. You made this mess, you clean it up.”

“Michael?” Evan echoed quietly, not seeming to hear the girl. “But… Michael’s dead…”

“No?” Michael’s eyebrows creased. “No, Evan, you were the one who died.”

“I know I’m dead!” Evan snapped. “Obviously! But I thought-“ He shook his head. “I guess I was wrong…” He reached out a hand tentatively, touching the side of Michael’s face. “You’re alive,” he said with wonder in his voice.

“Evan, you’re going to have to explain.” The girl crossed her arms. “I thought you said this was our killer.”

“I- Well, they look similar…” Evan looked sheepishly at the girl. “Sorry Cassidy.”

“Sorry Cassidy,” she repeated shaking her head. “Next time you get me all stirred up for something, it better be a golden rabbit, Afton.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Evan tried to smile, but the girl had already vanished, just like the animatronic.

Faintly Michael realized he’d have to tell Ramona about all this. I guess she was right about the pizzeria being haunted, he thought grimly. “You weren’t entirely wrong, at least,” Michael told his brother. “I did kill you-“

“No.” Evan shook his head firmly. “It was an accident. You said you’d be better if I woke up. And I tried so hard, Mikey. I tried so hard. I almost succeeded.”

Michael’s throat dried up. “But you still died. And it was my fault-“

“Michael.” Evan interrupted him. “You did not kill me. You didn’t do it.”

“But-“

“Can you let me speak for two seconds?” Evan shook his head again, this time with a huff of impatience. “Father killed me. He took me off life support.”

“But… why would he… No, that can’t be-“

“I saw him do it,” Evan said faintly. “I heard him grumbling about how this whole mess was your fault, and it wouldn’t go away unless he handled it himself. He killed me, and I thought that meant he was going to kill you too.”

Michael slowly got to his feet, still a bit unsteady. “That’s crazy.”

“He killed a bunch of other kids. I thought it seemed plausible enough. He hates you, Mikey.”

“Great.” Michael huffed out a frustrated breath. “I… So, you don’t blame me?”

“I mean, you didn’t mean it, right? You didn’t try to kill me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why would I blame you?” Evan inquired, perching on the corner of Michael’s desk as he wound the music box.

“Because it was my fault?”

“It was an accident,” Evan insisted. “And you apologized over and over again, which is more than I can say for Father.”

“I don’t think you should forgive me.”

“That’s because you don’t forgive yourself.” Evan peered at the cameras. “Toy Freddy’s coming.”

“I know.” Michael shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “Are you trying to do my job for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Evan scoffed, a smile forming on his own face. “You’d get yourself killed if I wasn’t here!”

“I was doing just fine until you tried to kill me!” Michael shot back.

“Liar, you wet yourself!” Evan jeered.

“No comment. Just let me do my job in piece, you crazy ghost.”

“No more crazy than you are for working a night shift here,” Evan muttered.

A thought suddenly occurred to Michael as he sat with his brother. The phrasing made him think of something Ramona said to him when they’d met. “Evan, did you know a guy named Jeremy Fitzgerald? He used to work the nightshift here before I did.”

“Yeah, he was friends with some of the animatronics, why?” Evan’s smile faded slightly.

“What happened to him?”

“I…” Evan hesitated. “I think he’s dead, Mike.”

“Dead? Why do you think he’s dead?”

“We had a break-in that night. And he was wearing a bunny costume. He dismantled Toy Bonnie, tried to kidnap a kid, and…” Evan paused. “Well, he took Jeremy’s hat. So I don’t think he stood a chance against that guy.”

“What got rid of the robber?” Michael asked, shoving the Freddy head over his ears as Toy Freddy strolled into the office.

Evan made a shooing motion, and the animatronic went away. “Cassidy scared him off, I think.”

“Fair enough.”

Their conversation mellowed out and turned into a continuing series of bickering back and forth, Michael narrowly missing death several times. The animatronics seemed unamused by the brotherly banter, but Michael didn’t care. Evan had never seemed this happy in life, and he was glad to have a chance to see him again, even if it was as a ghost.

Michael found himself humming cheerily as he walked home that morning, swinging the compacted umbrella around his wrist. The rain still made a trail down his back, but for once, he didn’t feel the thick blood gushing over his head and onto his shirt.

Logan meowed impatiently at him as he returned home. Michael rolled his eyes, hanging his hat by the door. “You’re so needy.”

Logan meowed again in response, uncaring of what Michael thought of him. Michael rubbed his face, and Logan leaned into the scratches. He smiled faintly at the cat. “Okay, okay, fine. You deserve food.”

Logan meowed reproachfully as Michael took his hand away to get his food ready. Logan jumped onto the counter, and Michael had to shove his face away. “Give me some space, you ridiculous cat.”

“Meow,” Logan replied, licking his hand as he waited very impatiently for his food.

Michael set the food back on the floor and walked away to go take a shower. I’ll walk him after, Michael thought to himself. He needed to change his clothes anyway, not to mention he needed to run his uniform through the wash.

Completely cleaned off with his clothes in the wash, Michael coaxed Logan over for his walk. Logan was not happy to go out into the rain. “Come on, buddy. Just one quick lap and then we can come back inside.”

Logan yowled at him in response, flattening himself against the house.

“Logan,” Michael said, tugging the harness gently. “We gotta do this really quick, and then you can go back inside-“

Logan wiggled free from his collar somehow, shooting across the street and in between some of the houses. Michael cursed, racing after him and stumbled as he went through the tall wet grass. “Logan!”

He lost track of the cat briefly before spotting him near a dumpster. “Logan, I swear-“ Michael cut himself off as a rustling noise came from within the dumpster.

Logan stiffened as well, flattening himself against the ground as he sniffed the air. Michael faintly heard growling and wondered if they’d run into a stray dog or something. The top of the dumpster stirred as golden fur peaked through, and for a brief moment Michael wondered if it was Percy, somehow having escaped Ramona to dig around in the trash.

The next moment changed his mind as giant clawed paws gripped the edge of the dumpster, and the head of the massive golden rabbit was visible. Huge ears flattened against the rabbit’s head as the rain started to soak into its fur.

“Logan, get back here, right now,” Michael whisper shouted to the cat at the base of the dumpster.

The cat replied by slipping underneath the dumpster, somewhere where the rabbit couldn’t get him.

“Um…” Michael trailed off as the rabbit’s eyes zeroed in on him. “Hi?”

The rabbit’s nose twitched slightly, and its head tilted slightly, almost human in its motions.

“You seem… lost?” Michael said, still uncertain about what he was saying. Somehow he hadn’t been eaten yet, and that was lucky in of itself.

The rabbit crept out of the dumpster, definitely towering over Michael. It came close, sniffing him. Michael had no idea how wild rabbits behaved, but suddenly he remembered what his brother had said about a rabbit in the pizzeria. Right. That had happened. Was it this rabbit maybe?

He stared at the chipped paint under the rabbit’s claws, wondering about the light blue coloring. And there was black inky stuff leaking down the rabbit’s mouth and across its chest a little bit.

Tentatively, Michael reached out a hand and stroked the rabbit’s nose. The nose twitched again before it butted aggressively against his hand, almost petting itself using his hand. Oh… it was just a stray bunny. A really big stray rabbit, but a sweet creature nonetheless.

Logan reappeared suddenly, meowing up at the rabbit. The bunny paid him no mind, too busy nuzzling against Michael’s hand to care much about the black cat. Logan meowed again, sounding more irritated.

“Right. Yeah, we gotta get back…” Michael stared forlornly up at the rabbit, a coil of fondness already tangling around him. “Do you… want to go with us?” He retracted his hand slowly, and a small squeak escaped the rabbit’s throat.

“Uh…” Michael picked up Logan, feeling his wet fur soaking through his shirt. “Follow me, I guess?”

The rabbit trailed behind him as he walked back, and Michael felt odd knowing that it had decided to trust him, but he’d already decided he didn’t care. If Logan wasn’t hissing at it, then it was probably fine… right?

Back home, Logan resumed eating, paying no more attention to the bunny who’d barely squeezed through the front door. Michael went to retrieve more towels, quickly returning to start cleaning what he assumed was motor oil from the rabbit’s face and then helping to dry it.

The rabbit nuzzled against his face, seeming happy with the results. Michael knew the fondness in his chest was not going to go away any time soon. He sighed to himself. How was he going to explain this to Ramona?

He’d presumably found the thing that had made her brother go missing, but he’d adopted it into his home, and it seemed harmless so far. In fact, it seemed to love him.

Teeth scraped against his neck, and Michael blinked. “Hey, no biting.”

The bunny tilted its head, jaw twitching slightly. Oh. It needed a chew toy. Glad he’d caught that before it turned deadly, Michael offered one of the dry towels up, bunching it up slightly to make it more firm.

The bunny gnawed at the towel, shredding bits of it off.

“You’re going to make me invest in chew toys, aren’t you?” Michael shook his head with a sigh. He yawned, unable to keep it in as he rubbed the rabbit’s belly.

His body swayed forward, and the fur was so soft, and Michael couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Faintly, he registered the pause in the rabbit’s chewing as giant paws scooped him up to nestle him closer. Michael sighed as he was surrounded by fluffy warmth and couldn’t stop himself from falling asleep any longer.

The sound of a phone ringing jolted Jeremy from his sleep. It was loud, piercing through his head like a hammer. He buried his face in the other man’s shirt before registering what he was doing. Wait, what?

Jeremy sat up quickly, looking around. He was… on the floor. Okay. There was a man beside him, and they were both surrounded by towels. One of the towels looked awfully ratty, and Jeremy found himself wincing as he spat out a piece of fuzz. Right. Apparently, that had happened.

The next realization was that he was completely naked. Oh. Okay. Uhhhh… Panicked, Jeremy scanned the room looked for a bedroom of some kind. A door creaked, and Jeremy flinched, expecting someone else to be in the apartment. Instead his eyes landed on a small black cat. The cat blinked at him, tail rising as it went to go lick the other man’s face.

“Wait, don’t do that!” Jeremy whispered loudly. Panicked, he grabbed the cat who squirmed and meowed in his face. “Shhhhh!”

The man on the floor shifted slightly, muttering something in his sleep. Jeremy went rigid, the cat dangling in his arms as the man sighed deeply and relaxed again.

Jeremy looked at the cat again. “Do you know where the bedroom is?”

The cat meowed in irritation, squirming some more before swiping its claws across Jeremy’s arm.

“Ah! Fuck!” Jeremy swore loudly, dropping the cat with a heavy thud. “Shit,” he whispered as the guy beside him finally rolled over and opened his eyes. Jeremy grabbed a towel and covered the other man’s face.

“What the hell-“ The man tried to pull the towel away and caught Jeremy’s wrist. “Who the fuck-“

“Uhh, can you give me a second, please? I don’t know how I got here or anything, but I’d really appreciate a moment of privacy.” Jeremy blurted out, his face burning over the brief second he’d heard the other man speak. Shit, why’d he have to sound attractive too?

“Pardon?”

“I, uh. I appear to have no clothes. Like, at all. So, unless you want to see that, I would love if you gave me a second.”

“Where are you expecting to get clothes from then?” the other man replied seemingly fully awake now. “Just cover up with towels or something. I’m sure there’s a bloody pile of them on the floor right now. I’ll get you some clothes.”

“Ah, I guess that’s… yeah, okay…”

Jeremy relaxed his grip on the towel, quickly burying himself in the rest of the towels around him before giving the man the go ahead to uncover his eyes.

Bright blue eyes blinked wearily at him, taking in his long golden hair and trailed down his torso. “Hey…”

“Right, clothes, sorry.” He shook his head and got to his feet. “I had to see if you were my size, but sorry.”

Well, that was an excuse if Jeremy had ever heard one. Still, he’d let it pass because he was still gawking at the man as he walked away, entering the room that the cat had come from.

Jeremy wanted to scream. Of all places to randomly wake up after a few nights of being trapped as a monster, a hot guy’s house was not where he was expecting to wake up. And why had they been asleep together? Did the guy have a fetish or something? Oh god, he really hoped not. It’d be a shame if this attractive guy was some kind of creep or something. Jeremy both hated and loved the implications, but the cat didn’t seem to be staring at him too judgmentally, so surely nothing had really been happening.

“Here. I think these should fit, but I’ll give you a second.” The man was interrupted by the phone ringing again. “Uh, bathroom’s that way.” He gestured vaguely before going to answer the phone. “Shit, what do you want Ramona?”

After the initial daze of being handed a bunch of clothes, Jeremy froze at the name. “Ramona Fitzgerald?”

The other man shot him a look before returning to his phone call. “Yeah yeah, you nosy bitch. I do have things to report. Can you give me like, ten minutes? I’ll call you back.” The man pinched his nose and hung up the phone. “Okay, pretty boy. Who are you and how the hell did you get into my house? And why do you know Ramona Fitzgerald?”

“Um. That’s… Well…”

Blue eyes leveled an impatient look at him, and the man slowly approached him. “Well?”

“I’m uh. Ramona’s my sister…” Jeremy scratched his neck. “I.. I’m.. Well, my name is… I’m Jeremy Fitzgerald.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” The man stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Well-“

“No, no, just stop talking. Stop for a second.” A hand covered Jeremy’s mouth. “You’re really going to sit here and say that you’re Jeremy Fitzgerald after everything I’ve had to tolerate because of your sister? Do you have any idea how worried she is about you?”

Jeremy blinked. He couldn’t bring himself to move away from the hand covering his mouth.

“God, you would be a bloody idiot, wouldn’t you.” The man sighed. “Go get dressed. We can finish this conversation later.”

The cat meowed at that moment, too impatient to wait much longer.

“Yeah, I’ll get you some food, Logan, you fucking glutton.”

The cat shot him a look, meowing again.

“I’m getting to it!” The man stood up, clearly exasperated. “If you sit in my kitchen all morning instead of getting dressed, I will kick you out, with or without answers.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Jeremy scrambled to his feet, still nervous about the man turning around again. He hesitated for a moment before bolting to the bathroom to try on the clothes.

His first impulse was to sink his fingers into the shirt, surprised by the soft, worn material. He had so many questions that were not appropriate to ask, so he pulled the shirt over his head before staring awkwardly at the boxers and pants. Shaking the thoughts free from his head, he hurriedly pulled on the rest of the clothes and exited the bathroom to see the other man nursing a cup of… coffee? Tea? Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure.

“Uh, hi again,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

The man raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to just stand there?”

“I was planning on it, yeah.”

“Sit.”

“Okay…” Jeremy perched tensely on the edge of a chair.

The man stared at him for a moment before muttering something to himself. “Jesus, can you calm down enough to be normal?”

“I… I mean, I really shouldn’t be here. I appreciate all the help and everything, but I don’t think me sticking around is a good idea-“

“Shut up for a minute, would you? Ramona is going to be here in 20 minutes. We’ll see if she thinks you are who you say you are.”

“Oh.” Jeremy stared down at the table, afraid of more questions.

“So. I’m Michael.” The man took a sip from his mug of whatever he’d been drinking.

“Okay.” That was a lovely name, Jeremy thought. It suited him too, and Jeremy couldn’t help but sweep his gaze across the man’s tired face and tangled brown hair. “You seem a bit exhausted there, Mike.”

“Michael,” he corrected, frowning slightly.

“Right. Sorry. You seem tired, Michael.”

“What did you do with the rabbit?” Michael said suddenly. “There was a rabbit here before.”

“Uh…” Jeremy pointedly looked away. “I think that should be a bit more obvious.”

“Evan said you were probably dead. The rabbit supposedly killed you.”

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” Jeremy answered bitterly. Flashes of the last few nights flickered across his mind. The cat seemed more afraid than Michael did. The soft gaze from his memories nearly made Jeremy melt. He wanted to find a way to earn that gaze again. Of all the times to have appeared as a rabbit.

Michael stared at him, seemingly waiting for him to say more. A knock at the door made him curse, and he got up to answer the door. “Fucking Ramona.”

Jeremy wanted to smile at the way Michael’s accent made his curse words sound. But he had a feeling that wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Let me see him,” the familiar demanding tone of his sister’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Mona?” Jeremy blurted out.

“Jerry?” Ramona shoved past Michael to walk into the room. “Oh, you’re okay!” She yanked him out of his chair and squeezed him in a tight hug.

“That’s my end of the deal upheld,” Michael said stiffly, closing the door.

Logan hissed, shooting between Michael’s legs to hide behind the man.

“You can get out of my house now,” he added, crossing his arms. “Ramona.”

“Oh, go to hell, Michael. I just found out that my brother is alive and unharmed, give me a minute to process before you be an ass.”

“Fucking hell,” Michael muttered, walking past them to enter the bathroom.

Jeremy tried to sputter out an apology, but Ramona was squeezing him so tightly he could barely squeak out a breath. “Mona, please let me breath.”

“Sorry.” Ramona released him from the hug, still holding both shoulders. “You’re okay? Nothing broken? Nothing bruised?”

“I’m just a bit hungry.”

Ramona’s eyes flashed at that. “You didn’t feed him?” she shouted at Michael.

“I haven’t bloody well eaten yet! Leave me alone woman!”

“It’s not Michael’s fault. Ramona, please calm down for a second.”

“His father’s a killer, Jeremy. The apple doesn’t tend to fall too far from the tree,” Ramona said quietly.

“Well, he was plenty nice to me. I think you just put him in a bad mood,” Jeremy said sheepishly.

“These aren’t your clothes,” Ramona noticed suddenly. “Oh, Jer, tell me you didn’t…”

“What?” Jeremy blinked, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Ramona, are you feeling okay?”

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Michael.”

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. He had no idea how to answer that question. “Ramona.”

“Did you or did you not?”

“I did not have sex with Michael!” Jeremy said a bit too loudly.

Michael scowled at the pair of them, holding his hand up in a rude gesture. “Get the hell out of my house.”

“Fuck you too,” Ramona shot back. “Come on, Jeremy. Let’s go.”

“What- Wait, Ramona, can’t you at least-“

“We’re leaving.”

Jeremy tried to shoot an apologetic look to Michael, but the man had already turned away to resume brushing his teeth. Great. So much for first impressions.

“You’re mean, you know that?” Jeremy said irritably as he dropped into the passenger seat.

#cloud writes #werebunny au #fnaf au #jeremy fitzgerald #ramona fitzgerald #michael afton #ghost children #OCs #cc fnaf #cassidy fnaf #evan afton #Pixxxxxxxx #you've infected me with brainrot #is this a shared AU now?#idk #i guess it could be #anyway

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zepskies · 10 months ago

Text

Show Me - Part 1

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: Another story for the Espresso-verse! This is set after “Devour Me,” and plays on plot threads in “Midnight Espresso” and the flashbacks in “In Bad Weather.”

Word Count: 3,100

Tags/Warnings: Angst, body shaming, body insecurity, protective Dean.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: “Objects Are Closer Than They Appear”

Hunter funerals aren’t supposed to be lively affairs.

Alicia Jackson is special, however. She’s known so well throughout the hunter community that news of her death creates a kind of reunion at her mother’s house after the funeral, not unlike Asa Fox’s wake last year.

Even you had known Alicia, though not particularly well. You met her through Eileen. They’d called for your help on a ciguapa case a few months ago, and ever since, Alicia had insisted on buying you a beer anytime she was in town.

So today, Sam and Dean are really supporting you and Eileen by coming along.

Alicia’s mother, Martha, is a lovely Haitian woman in her late sixties. Her house is modest, but welcoming. She’s a gracious host to have so many rough and tumble hunters in her home.

The wake is mainly gathered in the backyard, where plastic tables and chairs have been set up. Most of the hunters have collected into groups of the ones they know, sharing stories, laughing, eating, and drinking.

You’re in the kitchen with Martha, as you’ve offered to help her put out some more beers on the table outside. The smaller woman falters for a moment when she glances at a framed picture of her daughter on the wall. Alicia was beautiful, with coal-dark skin and soulful brown eyes she’d inherited from her mother.

You end up holding Martha’s hands in comfort when she nearly crumbles again. Your heart breaks for her. Even if you hadn’t been that close with Alicia, you’d hope that someone would take care of your own mother in a situation like this.

“She just has so many friends,” Martha says, with a tearful chuckle. “I never realized…”

“We try to look after each other,” you reply, smiling. “Everyone here knew your daughter, if not personally, then by reputation. And guaranteed, all of them have at least one good story to share.”

Martha nods. Somehow, she’s able to smile through her tears as she pats your hand.

After spending a few more minutes with her, you predictably find Dean by a long table of hors d’oeuvres and desserts.

“Babe, you gotta try these mini quiche. They’re delicious,” he says, after popping another pastry into his mouth. You can see that he’s eaten nearly a whole tray while he’s been waiting for you.

“You realize we’re at a wake, not the Golden Corral,” you lightly tease. He shrugs.

“Still gotta eat, right?” he says.

His capacity for food knows no bounds, but you love him for it.

You glance over at Sam and Eileen chatting with a small group of hunters under the shade of a tree. They’re sitting close together at a picnic table. Your lips form a subtle smile, and you lean in close to Dean.

“Look at your brother, being a supportive non-boyfriend,” you say. They’ve been loosely “dating” for weeks, though you aren’t sure they’ve put an official label on what they are together.

Dean’s expression turns both fond and amused. “Think they’ve sealed the deal yet?”

You glance over at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” Dean waggles his brows suggestively. You do know what he means, and you playfully smack his chest. Mostly to stop him before he starts making lewd hand motions.

“Come on, that’s none of our business,” you reply. Inside though, you’re wondering the same thing.

Dean spies the look on your face and smirks.

“See. You’re curious too,” he says. He gestures at your face with the same hand that holds a bacon-wrapped cocktail weenie. You have to raise a hand to fend him off when he tries to veer it into your mouth.

“Don’t point at me with your sausage,” you quip.

“Funny. I’ve never heard that particular complaint outta your mouth before,” he smirks.

He eventually gives up on feeding you and eats it himself. His warm gaze is still on you though. You start to blush.

“Again, we’re literally at a funeral reception,” you say, despite your growing smile.

His gait becomes more flirtatious as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Like I said. We still gotta eat, don’t we?”

You splutter laughing, though you attempt to contain it behind your hand. Dean’s chuckle resonates through you when he pulls you in by your waist. His thumb brushes your hip. He’s not so much into PDA, and certainly not as “touchy” as you, but this much will do for now. You lean into him in turn.

He finishes off his umpteenth hours d’oeuvre and sets his nearly empty beer on the table. After letting loose a barely stifled belch, he mentions something about finding a bathroom.

“Dogs are already barkin’, huh?” you tease.

“Yep,” he freely admits, patting his stomach. “Give me five minutes…or ten.”

He squeezes your arm in parting before he takes off down the hall at a purposeful pace. It leaves you to contemplate the mini quiche.

Damn, they do look good. You bend over the table slightly to peruse your options, when a familiar voice drawls behind you.

“Still got a fat ass,” he teases.

You freeze. Slowly, you straighten up, and you turn to blink in surprise at the man who stands there, holding a beer and wearing a playful smile.

Yours is polite at best as you try to get through your shock.

“Carter,” you blurt out. What the hell are you doing here?

He greets you with an incline of his head. The way he says your name is both familiar, and a little unsettling.

You cross your arms and lean back on your heels. “You knew Alicia?”

“We tangled a few times,” Carter replies with a nod. His smile laces with a bit of innuendo, but his eyes have just enough heaviness to convince you that he really did have some kind of relationship with Alicia.

Oh, Ali. You could’ve done better, you think. You wish you’d known that tidbit of information when she was alive. You would’ve warned her.

“I’m sorry for your loss then,” you say. Carter nods again. A silence falls awkwardly between you two.

“Is that all we’re gonna say to each other?” he asks. “It’s been…what, a couple years?”

“Almost four,” you supply. You and Carter had ended just a few months before you met Sam and Dean, a little over three years ago now. You and Dean hadn’t started dating until last year.

“All right,” Carter says, rubbing at his chin. His gaze roams over you with a slight smile. They take you in from your high-heeled boots and jean-clad curvy thighs, to your green blouse, laced loosely in the front. You’d decided to dress a little nicer for the occasion.

“You know, you look the same,” Carter says. His head tilts. “But different somehow.”

You raise a brow. “Different?”

“Yeah, like…” He draws closer and leans on the table beside you. He sips at his beer. “Confident. Like you’re not hiding yourself anymore.”

He mimics the hunch of a turtle in its shell.

“You used to be like a little mouse sometimes,” he adds with a light chuckle.

You know he means to be teasing, but you’re not laughing. If you’re not hiding anymore, it means you’re not trying to bury yourself under shapeless clothes, along with much of your inner self.

“Don’t you think that’s a little tight?” he’d asked you once, before you two went out together. It wasn’t the first time. (And it wouldn’t be the last.)

“I’m just saying,” he would often say. “You might feel more comfortable in something a bit looser. Cover these up a little.”

You remember how he’d squeezed the softness around your sides or your stomach. You also remember a well of anxiety in your chest that had made you feel almost grotesque when you’d studied yourself in the mirror afterwards.

Objects are closer than they appear…

You remember agreeing with him. Changing clothes. Drowning yourself in crewneck shirts and breezy buttoned-downs. Always wearing pants and baggy shirts to bed. Thinking all of this was to make you comfortable, and not the man who didn’t really love you.

So now, you give him a passive look as you take Dean’s forgotten beer and finish the last sip. Carter wears a hunter’s red plaid over jeans and his old leather boots. His blonde hair is shaggy around his ears, his face a little rough with stubble, his eyes still a deep blue.

He looks exactly the same. He probably is the same.

He’s right about one thing though. You’re not the same.

“We’re not in the profession of hiding,” you finally reply. “Guess I just got tired of it.”

Carter seems to sense your shift, and maybe, what you’re really saying. His smile falls into contemplation. He crosses his arms.

“Did I spot you with one of the Winchesters earlier?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that was Dean.”

Before you can add the boyfriend part, Carter whistles lowly and shakes his head.

“I’d steer clear of them if I were you,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Those two are walking hurricanes of bad luck, blood, and mayhem,” Carter says.

“You don’t even know Sam and Dean,” you counter. Your voice is sharp and your brows knit together in thinly veiled irritation. “So I suggest you shut your mouth and steer clear of me.”

You set the beer bottle a bit hard on the table and mean to brush past him. You spot Sam and Eileen again, still sitting in their same table under the tree. You aim to head over there to wait for Dean, but a hand wraps around your arm.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Carter frowns.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you tell him. You’re discreet in the way you try to twist your arm out of his grip. You glance around to make sure no one’s watching you two. The last thing you want to do is make a scene here, but Carter is being a stubborn ass.

Even though you manage to wrench out of his hold, he grasps your hand next to stop you from pulling away. He looks down at your hand, brushes his thumb over your skin. His gaze looks heavy, almost melancholy.

You know that funerals tend to bring out the sentimental shoulda, coulda, woulda in hunters, but you think he might be looking back on your time together with rosier glasses than he ought to be.

“Look, I'm sorry. Can’t I at least get you a drink? We can catch up,” he says.

“Consider me caught up,” you toss back. Frustration begins to set you on edge. “I don’t know why you’re pushing this. I mean, God, we weren’t even good together.”

At that, his grip tightens on your hand. Confusion and denial cross his face.

“That’s not true,” he protests.

Unbidden, you’re forced to remember the weeks you and Carter spent in Miami, where you’d met him. You remember how he’d convinced you to leave with him after his hunt was done, and to leave your family behind. A decision you regret to this day…

You lean in closer just to whisper hotly. “You know it is. We didn’t have a relationship. We had a transaction, in which you liked what I could do for you. But you never loved me. You never even really knew me.”

At that, his hold finally loosens in his shock. You take the opportunity to slip your hand out of his. Another familiar hand rests along your lower back, and a firm wall radiates warmth behind you.

“Hey, party people,” Dean says. He gives Carter a “pleasant” smile, and you a more genuine look. You okay? it says.

You let out a subtly relieved breath and nod. “Hey, was just gonna go check on you.”

“I’m good,” Dean says. He looks over at Carter, whose expression has cooled considerably. Still, Dean inclines his head. “Hey, man.”

“Yeah,” Carter says. His tone is bland, until his gaze slides back to you.

“Don’t tell me you’re shacking up with this one now,” he says, leveling a finger at Dean. Then he gestures across the lawn, over at Sam. “Or is it the former anti-Christ over there?”

Both you and Dean bristle. Your temper has a thin fuse right now, and while you still don’t want to make a scene, you might have to make an exception.

“Why don’t you remember where the hell you are and have some decency,” you hiss. “Do us all a favor and fuck off.”

Once again, you try to walk past him. This time when Carter grabs you, it’s because he smarts at you getting the last word. A sharp breath escapes you, and Dean intervenes with a firm, warning grip on the other man’s wrist.

“Hey, you wanna act right, before you make yourself a problem?” Dean says. His face is relaxed, but behind his eyes are a very real threat. “I got no issue laying you out right here, in front of all your buddies.”

Carter has a moment of indecision. He notices a few pairs of eyes drawing their way, and so he lets go of you, even as he sneers at Dean.

“Shove the Prince Charming bit, asshole. She ain’t a damn princess,” Carter snaps. “She don’t act like one, and she definitely don’t look like one.”

You roll your eyes at his spite, but Dean can’t quite let that one slide off his back.

His grip tightens on Carter’s wrist as he pulls him in. He pats Carter hard on the back and smiles as if they’re old friends. But really, it just gives him the vantage point to speak lowly near the man’s ear.

“All right, douchebag. Keep talking shit. I’ll bet that’s how you’ve gotten this far in life,” Dean says. “But touch her again, and I’ll break every damn bone in your hand. And maybe, I won’t stop there.”

He tilts his head, so he can see the glimmer of intimidation hidden well behind the other man’s eyes. Then Dean lets him go. He turns and lays a hand at the small of your back. The two of you fall into step together while walking across the lawn in the backyard.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly.

Dean frowns and notices the way your gaze has lowered. His hand moves around your waist and squeezes to get your attention. Without him realizing, it just reminds you of the way Carter used to point out the thicker curves on your body.

Cover these up a little.

“Hey, you okay—”

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, easing out of his hold.

It leaves him feeling unbalanced, and a bit put out. Dean remains quiet as he follows you over to his brother’s table.

“Are you all right?” Sam asks you, discreetly, but with concern. The wake is coming to an end, and by now Dean has filled him in on your run in with your ex, Carter Hall.

You give Sam a nod and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I'm good,” you reply.

Dean is quiet. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets. Eileen has invited you and Dean to join her and Sam at a nearby bar to keep the evening going with a few other hunters, but this has already been one hell of a day. You’re ready to make the long drive home and call it a night.

Eileen’s also agreed to take Sam home (eventually). You notice how they share smiles, how Eileen ducks her head with the beginnings of a blush. You’re happy for them, even as you and Dean part ways with a more stifled silence on the way back to the car.

It’s late, and it’s cold. You walk beside him with your arms crossed, just to brace yourself against the windchill eating through your jacket. You glance over at your boyfriend and feel a measure of remorse for the way you brushed him off earlier. You have a feeling that’s part of the reason why he’s quiet, giving you your space.

You decide to close the distance. You sidle up closer and curl your arm around his. Your hand slips into his as well, threading your fingers together with Dean’s.

He looks over at you with a slight raise of his brows. His lips quirk at a smile, and his hand tightens on yours. You’re able to give him a more sincere smile in return.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

You look up at him and bite your lower lip. “I’m starving. I never did get to try those quiche.”

It only takes a moment for you to devolve into a quiet giggle. It’s infectious, and Dean laughs with you.

“Okay, we’ll stop somewhere,” he nods. Though his eyes widen in realization. “Damn, that means you haven’t eaten since, what, this morning? Before the funeral?”

You mentally count back the hours, and you have to agree with a sheepish nod. Dean shakes his head in disapproval.

“Come on, sweetheart. You should’ve said something.”

You shrug, even though you know he’s right. Your free hand curls around his bicep, and you lay your head against his arm. He looks down at the top of your head and heaves a sigh, despite his lingering smile.

Though the peace you’ve brokered is soon interrupted.

Dean had to park down the road of Martha Jackson’s house. Two cars down is Carter, who’s about to climb into his old Honda Civic.

Damn. He’s still driving the same piece of shit too, you note. His head raises, and as if he knows he’s being watched, his attention turns toward you and Dean. You don’t allow yourself to react, other than staring across the way, directly at Carter. You wait until he looks away first, opening his door and getting into his car.

You expel a breath and brush your thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

“Let’s go,” you say.

Dean nods. He guides you toward the passenger side of the Impala, but his gaze lands beyond his car, to the Honda still parked and warming up. He finds Carter’s gaze through the front window for a moment.

It’s Carter who once again breaks first; he revs the ignition and peels onto the street, and down the road past them without looking back.

Dean's lips curve. Bitch.

Shaking his head, he rolls his shoulders and rounds the car towards the driver’s side.

He’s more than ready to go home.

AN: *sighs* Okay, originally this story was going to be a one-shot, but it just got too damn long. Let me know what you think of Dean finally meeting her ex-douchebag, Carter.

Part 2 (coming next week) will include all the angsty hurt/comfort and smut to come...

Next Time:

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower... “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

Keep Reading: PART 2

🎙️ Want to listen to the whole story narrated in podfic form? Check it out:

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

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acexliety · 14 days ago

Text

Undercover

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Gender neutral writing

English is not my first language, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes.

・・・・・

Warnings: none Summary: You and Gojo are on an undercover mission at a festival in search of a curse who picks off festival-goers one by one.

The mission briefing had been simple: infiltrate the remote village festival, locate a suspected curse residing among the festival-goers—picking them off one by one, and exorcise it without drawing attention. You’d been assigned this task with Gojo, of all people—the one sorcerer least likely to blend into any crowd.

As the two of you approached the festival grounds, it was immediately clear why discretion would be a challenge. The place was alive with color and noise. Lanterns bobbed like glowing stars strung on delicate threads, and villagers dressed in vibrant, traditional attire laughed and chatted as they moved from stall to stall. The smell of grilled meat and sweet rice cakes wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp night breeze. The whole scene had an almost magical quality to it, like a world suspended between the ordinary and the extraordinary.

Gojo looked around, visibly delighted by the sights and sounds. You could already see the wheels turning in his head, his infamous grin creeping up as he nudged you with his elbow.

“Alright, ready to go have some fun?” he asked, eyes bright with mischief. “Undercover doesn’t mean underwhelming, after all.”

You fixed him with a pointed look. “We’re supposed to keep low profiles. Remember? That means no showing off, no dramatic speeches, and no—”

“No fun?” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow with a mock pout.

You sighed, realizing this was going to be harder than expected. "Just… tone it down a bit, alright? If people start staring, it’ll blow our cover.”

Gojo gave a quick salute, then deliberately smoothed his hair and tugged at his yukata, as if this alone would be enough to mask his over-the-top personality. For a brief, fleeting moment, he actually looked… normal, the wildness in his eyes dampened, though barely contained.

“Lead the way, partner,” he said, adopting a tone that sounded oddly respectful. You shook your head but couldn’t help smiling a little as you began to weave through the crowd.

The festival was bustling, full of games and stalls showcasing traditional crafts. As you walked, Gojo’s curiosity drew him to a stall featuring small wooden charms painted with protective symbols. You watched him, momentarily distracted from the mission, as he examined the tiny details on each charm, asking the vendor questions about their history and significance. It was strange seeing him genuinely interested in something so simple, like the symbols meant something more to him than you’d realized.

Your gaze softened. “Didn’t take you for the type to like this kind of thing.”

He smirked, not looking up from a charm carved into the shape of a small fox. “You think I don’t appreciate art?”

“It’s less about art and more about you usually breezing past things like this.”

“Hey, undercover missions are a great time to take in the local culture.” He pocketed a fox charm, handing a few coins to the vendor. “And besides, it’s a memento. Don’t you want one too?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he pressed a small charm into your hand, you found yourself tucking it away safely. “Alright, maybe a small one.”

“See?” he said, his tone teasing. “You can enjoy yourself too.”

The two of you moved on, and Gojo, to your surprise, remained relatively calm as you walked along, stopping here and there to play small festival games, still attentive to anything unusual. But you noticed he was also watching you—closely. At the next stall, he nudged you toward a ring toss game and handed you a few rings.

“Go on,” he said, grinning. “Show me that you can handle more than curses.”

You gave him an exasperated look but took the rings. It took a couple of tries, but you managed to land one around a bottle, earning a polite applause from the stall owner and a little prize—a small, handmade doll. When you turned around, Gojo was giving you an approving nod, looking almost… impressed?

“You’re better at this than I thought,” he admitted, folding his arms with a smirk. “Maybe you do know how to have fun.”

You gave him a smug smile, tossing the doll in the air and catching it. “Don’t tell me you didn’t expect me to win.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you’d get competitive. It’s just nice seeing you let your guard down.” His tone softened as he added, “I guess undercover work has its perks.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you quickly redirected the conversation by dragging him to the next game. The night continued, and with each activity, you could feel the usual tension easing. For once, you were both just two people enjoying a night at the festival, not sorcerers constantly weighed down by battles and curses.

Eventually, you found yourselves standing in a clearing where music played softly under strings of paper lanterns. Couples and friends alike were dancing, their movements slow and easy under the golden glow of the lights.

Before you could protest, Gojo pulled you toward the dancers, his hand surprisingly warm against yours. “Come on,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This counts as blending in.”

You gave him a wary look, but his expression was genuine, open in a way you didn’t often see. Reluctantly, you let him lead, and as you moved together under the lantern-lit sky, the festival’s sounds and sights faded into a gentle backdrop.

Gojo was surprisingly patient, guiding you with a careful rhythm, never missing a beat. His usual bravado had softened into something steadier, and as you glanced up at him, you realized he was looking at you with that same quiet focus from earlier. It was disarming, to say the least.

“You’re a natural,” he said softly, giving you a rare, warm smile that reached his eyes. “Guess I should be surprised, but I’m not.”

The gentle praise caught you off guard, and you found yourself returning his smile. “I didn’t know you could dance like this.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, his voice lighter now, almost playful again. But his hand lingered on your back a second longer, and the soft pressure was grounding, anchoring you to the moment.

As the dance ended, the two of you paused, catching each other’s gaze under the soft glow of the lanterns. For once, there was no need to speak—just a quiet, shared understanding.

Before you could say anything, a faint pulse of cursed energy flickered through the air. Instinctively, you both broke apart, snapping back to your roles, all professionalism and focus as you scanned the crowd for the source.

Gojo turned to you, his grin back in place, though a bit softer than before. “Duty calls. Think we can pick up where we left off after?”

You shook your head with a small laugh, already focusing on the task ahead. “Only if you can keep your head down this time.”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Deal.” And with that, you slipped back into the mission, side by side, just a bit more in sync than before.

⭑.ᐟ

Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate

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vodika-vibes · 8 months ago

Note

OOH! I would very much like Topaz in Autumn with Fox pleeeease ♥

Pumpkin Spice

Summary: You love this time of year, when the leaves start to change and when it’s cool enough to pull your sweaters out of storage. You just need to convince Fox that this is the best time of year.

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader

Word Count: 659

Prompts: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm always happy to write about the love of my life! I hope you like this one and it's as cozy and affectionate as you wanted~

Fox stares at you, his eyebrows slowly creeping up his forehead as he takes in your outfit. “Okay,” he finally says, “I’ll bite. Why are you dressed like you’re about to run off and join the 212?”

“Because my red sweater had holes in it and needs to be repaired,” You say brightly, before you move to his side, and Fox is finally able to get a good look at the rest of your outfit.

A long vibrant orange sweater, black jeans and brown boots.

“You look very nice,” He says, “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Because,” You say as you hook your arms around his arm and tug him to his feet, “We’re going out.”

“Can we not?”

“Please? Just for a little bit? It’s not that cold outside today.”

Fox looks at you, and, for a moment, you think he’s going to deny you anyway, but he just sighs and tilts his head back, “Fine. Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret.” You reply brightly, as you tug him towards the door and press his shoes into his hands, “Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“So you say.” Fox tiredly pulls his shoes on and grabs his own sweatshirt, before he allows you to tug him out of the apartment and then out the building.

You thread your fingers with his as soon as you’re outside and press yourself against his side, “This is my favorite time of year, you know?” You say to him.

“Is it?” Fox asks as he makes his steps smaller so he’s able to stay in step with you, “Why?”

You hum thoughtfully, “I guess…it reminds me of when I was a kid. When things were easier and all I had to worry about was school work. Life was easier then.”

“Better?”

You laugh, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” You squeeze his hand, “After all, I have you now.”

“And that makes the present better?”

“Absolutely.” You confirm, you pause when you get to where you wanted to go, “Ah! Here we are! Wait here.” You kiss his knuckles quickly, and then hurry over to a small stand several feet away.

You talk to the owner of the stand, and pay him a small amount of credits for two cafs, and then you return to Fox, “Here!”

He takes one of the cups, “Thanks. What is it?”

“Caf! Flavored caf.”

He arches a brow, “Flavored?”

“It’s pumpkin spice. It’s one of the reasons I like this time of year so much.” You take a sip of your own caf, and release a happy sigh, “Go ahead, try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll buy you a black caf.”

He looks amused now, before he brings his cup to his lips and takes a sip.

Fox pauses, and then takes another sip.

“Huh.”

“Do you like it?” You ask.

He turns amused eyes onto you, “It tastes like you.”

You pause, “Is that a yes-?”

At that, Fox laughs and he leans in to catch your lips. He tastes like pumpkin spice caf, and his lips are warm from the hot liquid. “Well, seeing as I love you, and the way you taste, then that is a yes.”

A grin crosses your face, “So it’s not so bad to leave the house then?”

“Oh, it’s still miserable. But I get to see you with that wide smile on your face, so I suppose it’s better than it could be.” He teases, and then he tugs you a bit away, “So, shall we continue our walk?”

Your entire face brightens, “Really?”

Fox leans in and kisses you one more time, “Really.” His fingers rest lightly at the base of your throat, “Thank you for inviting me, even though I was a grump about it.”

“You’re welcome,” You beam at him, “I’ll invite you everywhere. I love you, after all.”

His smile is soft and warm, “And I’m a better man for it.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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elysiaheaven · 2 months ago

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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲-𝟮𝟰-(The Fox's Wedding)

Mentions of beheading-( threats for now) ,etc,gore

Words:2489

Jiaoqiu sat beside you in the dim, cold cell, his hand still gently holding your trembling wrists. The silence between you was heavy, but it was only broken by your quiet sobs. He looked at you, his heart aching, desperate to understand the source of your pain. He couldn't stand seeing you like this—so broken, so lost in your own darkness.

"Y/N..." he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. "Tell me. Please, tell me what happened. I need to understand."

His question hit you like a blade, and suddenly, the walls you had built around your past began to crumble. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of your torn clothes, feeling like they were suffocating you. You looked at him with wide, terror-filled eyes, shaking your head. "No... no... you don't want to know. I'm—I'm evil, Jiaoqiu," you choked out, your voice cracking as the words tore from your throat. "I'm a monster. I deserve this."

Jiaoqiu's eyes filled with sorrow and confusion. He couldn't understand how you could believe something so cruel about yourself. "What are you talking about? You're not evil, Y/N. How could you—"

"Stop!" you screamed, clutching your head as memories from the past surged like a flood, drowning you. "I killed... I killed them, Jiaoqiu!" Your voice cracked as you sobbed, shaking uncontrollably. "It's my fault... I deserve to die!"

Jiaoqiu's breath caught in his throat. "Killed who? What are you talking about? You... you protected people, didn't you? That'swhat he sounded like..." His voice faltered as he tried to piece it together.

But you were beyond reason now, lost in the twisted, painful echoes of your past. "It was me! I was supposed to save them! But I failed. I let them die, all of them. The village... everyone trusted me, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't save anyone. I killed his brother... I thought I was doing the right thing, but all I did was bring more death!"

Your voice rose in a raw, agonized scream. "I deserve this pain! I deserve to die, Jiaoqiu! Please, kill me... just end this. Save Feixiao. She deserves a life unlike me. You all do!"

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened in shock as he knelt in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm your shaking form. "Y/N, listen to me!" he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "Feixiao, she...We all need you. You didn't kill anyone, not like that. You're not the monster you think you are. Please, don't say this. You're not alone in this."

But you couldn't stop the overwhelming tide of guilt and self-loathing that consumed you. You were trembling violently now, barely able to breathe. "You have to kill me, Jiaoqiu," you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. "Please, just... do it. Hoolay will keep hurting you. I don't deserve to live. You'll all be better off without me."

Jiaoqiu's grip on you tightened, and he pulled you into his chest, cradling you against him as you cried, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped you. "I'm not going to kill you, Y/N. Never. I won't let Hoolay's lies destroy you. You're stronger than this, stronger than him. I won't let you give up on yourself."

You cried harder, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. He held you tightly, refusing to let you fall into the abyss of your despair. "We're getting out of this," Jiaoqiu whispered fiercely. "You're not dying here. Not today. Not ever. I won't let you."

You sat there, shaking, staring into nothingness as you began to tell Jiaoqiu the truth—the truth you had buried so deep inside, it had taken this nightmare with Hoolay to force it out. The cold of the prison walls seemed to disappear as you became lost in your memories, pulling at the tangled threads of a past you had almost forgotten.

"There was a village," you started, your voice hoarse, as if the words were choking you. "A hidden village, secret but known... One of the Luofu ships... They weren't supposed to be there, but people—spirits—they lived there anyway, helping other ships by trading goods. It was like... a place where the lost people, the forgotten souls, came together."

Jiaoqiu's hand tightened on yours as you spoke, but he remained silent, listening intently.

"There was a leader," you continued, your eyes glossing over as the images filled your mind. "A foxian with nine tails... Eiji. He was... beloved, the perfect leader. He was always around, laughing with everyone, eating with the villagers... no one questioned him. We were all spirits, or... we thought we were."

You paused, swallowing hard, feeling your heart pound painfully in your chest as the memories resurfaced. "No one remembered their past. Not me, not anyone. I was just... a baker. I ran a small restaurant where everyone came to eat, even the Cloud Knights. They'd come from other ships, and we'd feed them. It was... a happy life. Or so I thought."

Jiaoqiu was watching you closely now, his eyes darkening with concern, but you couldn't stop. The story had to come out.

"One day..." You faltered, your hand shaking as you reached for your stomach, as if you could still feel the pain. "I got burned. Just a small burn while cooking. But... spirits aren't supposed to get hurt. I didn't know what it meant, but I... I started to remember things. Little flashes. Pieces of something... someone else."

Your voice cracked, and Jiaoqiu gently squeezed your hand, his silent way of urging you to continue.

"Then, Hoolay's brother came. A monster," you whispered, your voice trembling. "He threatened us, demanded food, threatened our peace... Everyone believed they were safe because they were spirits. They thought nothing could hurt them. But Eiji... he knew. He knew the truth. He asked some of us—chefs like me—to cook for the monsters. To feed them so they wouldn't hurt us. But those chefs... they never came back."

You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears. "I didn't understand why... but I had these memories. Flashes of talking to someone—a friend. I remembered... I was good at poisons. So I made a decision. I cooked the food, but I added the poison."

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't interrupt.

"Hoolay's brother... he ate the food, and when he realized he was dying, he... he almost killed me. He slashed my stomach open." You gestured to your abdomen, the phantom pain making your breath hitch. "But... spirits don't get hurt."

"I blacked out. And when I did... I remembered everything."

Your voice broke as the weight of the truth crashed down on you. "I wasn't a spirit. None of us were. We were people... kidnapped, brainwashed by Eiji. He erased our pasts, gave us new lives, new stories, to fit his perfect little world. We were puppets, living in harmony... But it was all a lie. And I... I broke free of his spell."

Jiaoqiu's face was pale, his eyes filled with horror as the truth sank in. "You... you weren't just a chef," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "You were the one who stopped Hoolay's brother."

You nodded, tears falling freely now. "I killed him. I thought I was saving the village. But when Eiji realized I was no longer under his control, he spread rumors. He told everyone I was the one who aided the monsters. He made them believe I had betrayed them, that I was the one responsible for the deaths."

You broke down, burying your face in your hands. "I don't deserve to live, Jiaoqiu. I killed his brother... I betrayed the village... I'm a monster, just like them."

Jiaoqiu pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you sobbed against his chest. "No," he whispered fiercely. "You're not a monster. You were trying to protect them... you were manipulated, controlled... just like everyone else."

But the guilt and shame had wrapped themselves around your heart like chains, pulling you deeper into despair. "I deserve to die... for everything I've done."

The memories spilled out of you like a flood, the weight of the truth seemed almost unbearable. But there was one part of it that, as dark and twisted as it was, had given you a grim satisfaction. You wiped your tear-streaked face with trembling hands, and your voice turned cold as you began to speak again.

"Killing him... Hoolay's brother," you whispered, your voice hollow. "It was the best part."

Jiaoqiu looked at you, shocked, his arms still around you but tense now as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"He deserved it," you continued, your eyes distant, fixated on some invisible scene only you could see. "After all the pain he caused... the suffering... the torment, I didn't just poison him to stop him. When I knew he was dying, when I saw the life drain from his eyes, I didn't stop there."

You lifted your gaze to Jiaoqiu, your eyes filled with a mix of darkness and regret. "I beheaded him."

The words felt like venom on your tongue, bitter but true. "I wanted to make sure he could never come back. Never hurt anyone else. I watched him writhe in agony, watched him choke on his last breath. Then I took his head. It was... satisfying."

Jiaoqiu swallowed hard, his grip on you loosening as he processed your confession. His face was pale, but his eyes remained steady, filled with a mixture of shock and pain.

You let out a bitter laugh, one that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside you—somewhere dark. "That's how Hoolay would kill me if he wanted to. I know it. He would do it the same way I killed his brother. He'd take my head, and he'd enjoy every second of it."

Jiaoqiu's face twisted with sorrow as you spoke, his hands gently holding your shoulders as if trying to pull you back from the edge. "Y/n...," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're not that person. You didn't have a choice."

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time it was not from guilt, but from the overwhelming weight of the truth. "But I did have a choice, Jiaoqiu. I could've stopped with the poison, but I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to be the one to end him, and I did. And now... Hoolay wants me to pay the same price. I deserve it."

"No." Jiaoqiu shook his head, his voice firm despite the pain in his eyes. "You don't deserve to die like that. What you did... it wasn't out of cruelty. It was survival. You were protecting them, protecting yourself. Don't let Hoolay convince you that you're the monster here. He's the one who deserves to pay."

"The monsters... they killed them all," you started, your voice hoarse. "Hoolay's brother was just the beginning. After I killed him, the rest of them came. The borisin—they wanted revenge, and when they couldn't find me... Eiji..." You choked on his name, your fists clenching. "Eiji handed over the entire village. All those people, the ones I thought were my family... he gave them away just to save himself."

Jiaoqiu's eyes were wide with disbelief, horror etched across his face. "Eiji? The village leader... he sacrificed them?"

You nodded, your body shaking with the weight of your confession. "He was a coward. He couldn't find me because I had hidden myself away after I killed Hoolay's brother. So, he made a deal—he gave the villagers to the monsters. All of them. They died believing the lie he had crafted for them, thinking they were spirits, that they couldn't be hurt. But as they died... they realized the truth. That everything they had ever known was fake, a fantasy created by Eiji. They had families, memories, lives outside the village... all stolen from them. And when they died, they knew."

The agony in your voice was almost unbearable as you recalled the sight of those innocent people falling, one after another, as the borisin ravaged the village. "I watched them die, Jiaoqiu. Every single one. I couldn't save them. I couldn't stop it."

"My daughter, I wanted to buy her..that kite! Why am I here!?"

"I promised my beloved...I would return...I can't die..Why did I forget about him?"

Jiaoqiu's hand reached for you, but you pushed him away, the guilt and horror too much to bear. "You don't understand. I found Eiji after that. I found him hiding, shaking, and begging for his life. He said... he said that he had done it to protect us. That the villagers would have died eventually, so there was no harm in what he did."

You spat the words, the anger and hatred still burning within you. "He said he just wanted a family, that he was a lonely spirit, just like the rest of us. He cursed me, Jiaoqiu. He cursed me to understand his pain. He said I would be just like him—forever alone, forever hated, a monster in the eyes of the world."

You shuddered, your fingers gripping your own arms so tightly they left marks. "And then... he tried to kill me. He had a sword, one that could hurt spirits, and he stabbed me with it. But I didn't die. All the curses, all the pain I had endured—it changed me. I became something else. Not a god, but something worse. A spirit of vengeance, a cursed existence."

Your voice cracked as you continued. "I killed him, Jiaoqiu. Slowly. I made him suffer. I tormented him until he couldn't even scream anymore. And when he was finally dead, I... I turned to stone. Locked away by the Luofu, forgotten by everyone except Jingliu."

Jiaoqiu's hand tightened on your shoulder, but you couldn't stop now. "Jingliu knew the truth. She wrote a letter to Jing Yuan, but Hoolay must have intercepted it, twisted the truth. Jing Yuan... he thinks I'm a monster. Just like everyone else."

You sobbed, your tears falling uncontrollably. "I failed. I couldn't save anyone. Not the village, not the children... They died right in front of me, and all I could do was watch."

Jiaoqiu's face was pale, his heart breaking as he listened to your story. "Y/n... I'm so sorry."

But his words couldn't reach you. The weight of the past, the endless pain and suffering, was too much. You couldn't stop the tears, the cries that escaped your throat as you clutched your chest, feeling like the world was collapsing around you.

"I killed them all, Jiaoqiu! I killed them with my weakness. I deserve to die. I deserve to suffer. I couldn't save them, I couldn't save anyone!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" He shouted.

"If I did...?! You wouldn't killed me! You wouldn't have consider me an option My soul could cure! I thought If I remind as that person the history made me out to be..You would have killed me easily with no regrets..I wouldn't mind it.."

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu hsr #jiaoqiu

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swifty-fox · 6 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/swifty-fox/749059155689668609/wait-ok-do-journalist-bucky-interviews-dom-gale

STOP ITTTTTTTT

lmao. It's coming along sloooowly. I'm really low inspo for writing rn so everything is going towards kfak but this WILL be posted

“How would it make you feel if I called you names?”

John clears his throat, finds the grate in the ceiling suddenly quite interesting. “Like what?”

“Slut.”

His face heats and he twists his mouth, picking at a thread in his pants and bounces the name around his head.

“Ah… I… don’t think so.”

“How about if i said you remind me of a needy panting dog?” Gale’s gaze was so intense, slipping from the easy expression from before to something more real, more present. As if John was his only focus in that moment. “Shaggy curls and pretty gangly body, like a puppy that needs to be put in its place.”

John’s ears hollow out a bit, he sucks air in through his teeth and lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Jesus.”

“Better?” Gale says, smiling and leaning back, types on his phone for a bit, “So, maybe a little bit of that if that’s okay? How did it make you feel?”

“Isn’t this about you dominating me, not how it makes me feel?”

“Like I said, this is all about what you need and what John. Just my job to make sure it’s done safely and you know what you’re getting into. With some surprises.”

“It made me hard.”

It feels a little strange to say, and John feels oddly shy. Usually things are more intense when he expresses his desire. Pinned against a wall or falling into bed; not lounging on a couch discussing degradation as if they were discussing the weather.

“Well, it’s supposed to.” Gale sets his phone aside and holds his hands out, palms up and bony wrists crooked handsomely.

He had such nice hands, John wants them in his mouth.

After a moment he slides his fingers over Gale’s palms, holds his hands in his own and finds they’re of a similar size despite the difference in their bodies.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

John examines the white lines of long healed scars, the faint freckle on one thumb. The bony knuckled curve of his hands and the milky white undersides of Gale’s inner wrist and elbow. The skin looked soft their, void of any hair.

“Did you bring the gloves?” He asks, holding his breath hopefully. He surprises himself with his desire.

#swiftywrites #kitchen sink au

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jeanvaljeancheri · 10 months ago

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Here are my two favourite jerejean fics as well as other favourites of mine, all in no particular order!

My two all time fav jerejean fics

Chasing the Night to See the Stars

Jean Moreau comes to the Trojans a broken man. The Trojans, for their part, decide that broken does not mean unlovable.

I have so much to say about this fic, I almost added screenshots of the notes I took while reading (seriously I genuinely had to hold myself back 😭)

Like coach Rhemann? The books? And Galaxy's watch? How am I ever supposed to move on from this.

Sixteen hours

started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this (affectionate)

Jean and Jeremy secretly start dating in their final year at USC.

I don't even know how to describe this fic. Their love is just so delicate and gentle and caring and soft and everything.

The ski trip actually owns my heart.

Other favs

A Little Illumination

Jean's a lonely firefighter, and Jeremy teaches kindergarten. Everyone learns something about themselves.

The Care and Keeping of Jean Moreau

Don’t panic. Call Kevin Day.

Jean has always been something of a black box. Whereas Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day spent so much of their childhoods at Evermore in the spotlight, the details of Jean Moreau’s personal life have been kept largely in the dark. In post-game interviews, he’s always blended into the monolith of Ravens standing behind Riko. But until Kevin called a couple weeks ago, you thought you at least had a general impression of Jean Moreau: an absolute nightmare of a backliner, with the ruthless ambition and arrogance expected of any Raven — especially one marked for Riko’s so-called Perfect Court.

The person waiting for you in baggage claim at LAX is like someone else entirely.

Do’s and don’ts for rehabilitating an ex-Raven, by Jeremy Knox.

love looks better in colour

"Colours, like features, follow the changes of the emotions."

Jeremy Knox is twelve years old when his soulmark appears. Nothing after that is easy.

a bicycle made for two (or three)

The other hindrance was due to the fact that Santa had been very generous this year, which left Jean standing on a patch of sidewalk he’d kicked clear himself, holding his four year old daughter’s hand and wondering how he was going to get all of their stuff plus the Pink Unicorn Princess Dream House up four flights of stairs without something breaking.

Golden State

"Yeah … about that …" Jean is glaring down at his phone like it is covered in slugs, lips curled downwards. "Kevin texted. He is bringing Neil Josten with him."

"What?" Jeremy blinks, taken aback. "Why?"

Jean shrugs, shoulders stiff. "He didn’t say. Just ..." he hands his phone over, opened to a thread of messages. The last one is from an hour earlier. Jean had asked about the time Kevin’s flight comes in, the answer is a curt

Saturday, 2.30pm. Neil is coming too.

Or, Two ex-Ravens, a Fox and a Trojan meet up for Vacation. They have a lot of things to work through, but maybe it will turn out better than they expect.

Becoming A Sugar Baby To The Husband Of My All-Time Favorite Exy Player?!??

Jeremy Knox, otherwise known as… Jean Moreau’s accidental sugar baby?

After sustaining an injury on the court, Jeremy opts to take a semester break to studying abroad in France. There, he’s taken under the wing of Jean Moreau, otherwise known as exy star Kevin Day’s best-kept secret: his husband.

Sooo this is actually kerejean but I couldn't resist adding it on :)

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helenkordart · 6 months ago

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This was a bit of an insane project! I decided to draw all the designs from the various official arts we have gotten over the years. A bit of an archiving project! I tried to make them as accurate as possible. It involved a lot of guesswork tho, since most of them don′t show the full designs. Let′s just say that only 5 of these (and I mean five figures, not design sets lmao) show any kinds of shoes.

I do love seeing the design elements that carry over between the designs tho. Ququ is a cold boy and has to have some kind of fur or a scarf. Feng-er doesn′t want a speck of dirt to touch him and prefers high collars and bracers and high boots (the boots ARE book canon tho). I also love that there′s only three designs that have Ququ wear some kind of crown, the rest is just ribbons or nothing at all, despite the jade crown being mentioned at least once. Like no, we want the boy to be cozy and prevent headaches...!

Please tell me which designs are your favourite! Mine is the official manhua design, mostly because it′s honestly such a smart design, especially Ququ. Like you can tell the artist looked at Ququ and his specific disabilities and worked from there. Besides the hair ribbon, my favourite small detail is the arm warmers that look like compression gloves used for arthritis 🥹 That one means so much to me. Also the difference in layers between Ququ (I′m cold) and Feng-er (ew no dirt touch me ew). It′s just. So nice 🥹♥️

If you want the corresponding official arts, I′ve posted them in the thread on twitter! Anyway here′s which is which with more commentary lmao sorry I cannot shut up about these so much thought actually went into making them and this is the only place where I can actually talk about them properly 🥹

The designs from the first discontinued manhua- Some people in the fandom prefer these because they say they feel more adult but no, sorry, sure the art skill might be better but they just. Don′t feel like Fengcuis to me. Like I would′ve learned to love them but I′d never exchange them for the main ones we got. Plus the character designs changed between all the panels, so trying to chase down a specific design was hell. I′m glad Ququ showed up only in one panel so I didn′t have to do that again lmaoo

The designs from the official manhua- I already explained above why I love them so much. Just. These are THE designs for me. I see these little guys and my heart goes doki doki. If (when) I make lil standees, I′ll very probably use these

The designs from my favourite of the manhua covers- you don′t understandddddddddddddddddddddddddd I love this cover so much. To say I′m insane about it is an understatement. Just. Look at the cover art. Feng-er staring directly into the camera, challenging. Ququ looking soooo kissable. Their entwined fingers. Ququ wearing a jade bracelet in the colours of Feng-er′s robes. I′m just. Vrrrrrrr bark bark BARK. Also had to make MORE patterns for this one. Still not sure I did it proper justice tho 🥹

The manhua-canon modern au outfits- I still can′t believe we got a canon modern au where singer-spy Feng-er kidnaps doctor Ququ on a mission-date and has him hold a silly baloon all day and wear a cute little cap with a silly little cockatoo on it and then they wish each other a happy new year during a sunset on top of the ferris wheel AND I′M SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT???????????? Anyway Ququ in his tweed collection is so cute. Mwah. Best boy. Feng-er come on tug on his scarf and kiss him. Do it. Now

Designs from the covers of the traditional edition- these designs are pretty unique while still feeling in character, which is cool! Ququ is such a fancy lil lad here. And I′m obsessed with his... frog? Mousie? Front clasp. I made it a little fox because of course I did

Design from the 1st cover of the simplified edition- I don′t have that much to say about these honestly except that they′re very pretty. I love that Feng-er′s top robe is sheer and I love the silver embroidery, even if it took me some time to figure out how tf to draw it

Design from the 2st cover (Ququ) and 3rd cover (Feng-er) of the simplified edition- that Ququ design drives me crazy. He looks so soft and cozy, you wouldn′t guess that this is the meanest most repressed bitchiest man in all of ye olde Sui dynasty. I want to squeeze him. Cute agression overload. Meanwhile I couldn′t figure out what Feng-er′s belt and hem was doing pattern wise so I just winged it lol.

Fengcuis cosplaying a married couple with designs from the Thai vol. 1+2 freebie- God. Funniest arc in the entire book. They′re insane. They′re perfect for each other. Peerlessly matched. One day I′ll draw more of unhinged wife Feng-er because seriously. Their idea of heterosexual marriage is SO funny. They′re so real for that. And the og chibi designs are SO cute. Ququ′s sweaty little face. This was your idea gay boy, suffer

Audio drama designs from first half of season 1- These are so funny bcs the difference of the designs is like. Main covers: beautiful and ethereal. Minisode covers: Ququ is A Tube with a head on top. Slappy fights. Beautiful. No notes. TubeQu is a god′s perfect creature

Audio drama designs from second half of season 1- I said it before but these just feel too generic to be properly them. While drawing them they did kinda grow on me, at least Feng-er, since his expression is kinda perfectly smug. Im still ehhh on the Ququ tho. He′d look better without the crown.

Designs from Thai covers 1+2- oh man lol the thai covers. I was joking that I could not save the Feng-er, but he did grow on me. It might be that he looks proper manic with the chibi base I drew 😂 But he′d look so much cuter with bangs. Idk why the artist did him like this. Meanwhile Ququ is the most beautiful man alive. I mean it′s what he deserves, but it′s still very funny. Also LOVE how big and fluffy his collar is.

Designs from Thai cover 3- besides my other issues with the thai design, the colours on Feng-er just clash lmao I′m sorry, again why did the thai artist have to do him like this 😂 meanwhile the coat on Ququ is not a colour I′ve ever seen him in, but yknow what it works surprisingly well. He continues to be the most beautiful man around. Sorry king is that horrible peacock bothering you

#Peerless #Wushuang #无双 #FengCui #meng xishi #feng xiao #cui buqu #this took me like 2 hours to type out LMAO

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azsazz · 2 years ago

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My Happy Ending

Lucien x Reader

Summary: He was supposed to be your everything. What he turned out to be was much worse.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1,295

Notes: Haven’t written for Lulu in a minute so I thought to myself, “Let’s devastate some people today.”

_________________________________________

“Can’t we just talk about this?” you plead, slipping from the bed behind him. He’s already across the room, fully clothed, quick on his feet. You wish you were wearing more than the thin slip of the nightgown you donned, but at least it was something.

“What is there to talk about, (Y/N)?” he retorts, casting a withering look over his shoulder at you as he straightens the collar of his coat. The harsh look nearly slices through the fabric and you shrink back under that glare, watching as something flickers in the amber of his eye, his other making a whirring sound you recognize it makes when he’s squinting. “I told you, I’m going back to Autumn.”

You don’t want him to leave, especially after last night. Sure, the two of you hadn’t ever really been close, not that you hadn’t tried. You had thought you’d made your interest known, in fact.

Maybe that was why Lucien looks like he’s ready to flee.

Your throat is thick with emotion and you fist your fingers into your nightgown so that he doesn’t see the effort you’re using to keep the prickling in your eyes at bay. He didn’t like when you got too emotional.

“So last night meant nothing, then?” It’s posed as a question but it comes out just as vulnerable as you were trying to hide. The tightness in your windpipe won’t allow for it.

Lucien looks away, releasing a huff of irritated laughter. He’s shaking his head like he can’t believe you’ve really asked that and the thread coiled around your heart pulls taut, digging into the meat and slicing, causing you to gasp sharply.

The bond had made itself known soon after you had met the royal, stumbling into the House of Wind with Azriel, shoving his way out of the shadowsingers arms. He looked like a snared fox with the rest of the Inner Circle standing around him, making sure he didn’t go anywhere while Rhysand and Feyre had reunited.

You’d offered to show him to a room, hoping for a moment alone to introduce yourself to handsomely nervous male, but Cassian had accompanied the three of you as chaperone, not trusting the Vanserra son who had looked like he wanted nothing more than a bath and a comfortable bed to sleep in.

When he had turned to thank you for showing him the way and his russet and golden eyes met yours was when it happened. You could feel the stopping of your heart for a split second, before it started up again, as if it were beating for something new. Someone new, you realized, because you hadn’t been able to look away from him as your chest burned, it had to be him.

The confused look on Lucien's face and Cassian’s hand on your arm had snapped you out of it, a look of disappointment had stamped your face before you could even process. With a muttered, “You’re welcome,” you let your friend usher you from his chamber on wobbly legs and a worried look on his face.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Cassian asked, both hands on your shoulders to keep you in place.

But you could hardly focus on him when your heart wanted you to go back to Lucien, just down the hall. It was nearly painful, the feeling, and you clutched your hand to your chest, the other to your stomach as you tried to steady your breathing.

“I’m–I’m fine, Cass, just a little tired is all,” you lied.

“At least let me help you to your room.”

“Last night was for you. Don’t pretend like you don’t know that.”

The breath catches in your throat at the accusation.

You want to ask a million questions, scream and cry and plead for answers. Why is he so cold to you when he’s so kind to others? Why is he leaving? Why aren’t you good enough for him?

The thread of the bond is quickly fraying.

“Why?” is all you can muster. It’s barely there, on a breath of an exhale that Lucien hardly catches over the sound of his strides towards the door.

He halts abruptly, spinning on the heel of his foot so quickly you flinch. You refuse to look him in the eyes, instead casting your gaze down to the warmly colored wooden floors of your room, tensing more with each passing second.

“Because this is what you wanted,” his voice is a tough quieter, as if he knows that if he speaks too loud you will shatter. “Remember?”

You already feel like you are anyway.

You’re trembling, thinking back to what seems like a long time ago, when he’s been kissing down your neck with your hands buried in his hair and him gripping your hips like he never wanted to let you go. You’d begged him for it, for anything, and now–

A single tear falls. It burns like Lucien is the one instructing it, infusing it with his Autumn fires.

Maybe you had mistook his roughness for want. For need. Maybe you had convinced yourself he felt the bond too, but the longer you think, those long fingers leaving bruises on your skin, the way he’d buried his head into the crook of your shoulder, the love bites so tender he’d nearly drawn blood…

“You didn’t want it?” your voice trembles and your stomach twists.

Lucien did want it. He wanted it so badly it had nearly consumed him when he had found out that you were his mate. But there are things that are more important than finding his other half. Namely, figuring out where his father stands in the upcoming war.

If his brothers chasing him and the…High Lady of the Night Court were any sign, he doesn’t think Beron is very willing to join Rhysand’s alliance.

Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.

“I–” He can’t say it.

Can’t say that, at least.

“You see, little lamb?” He begins instead, voice low, menacing and the smooth stride he takes closer makes you shuffle back. You flinch at the nickname. You’d thought it was adorable when he’d whispered it across your skin, but now, as he bares his teeth and his eye darkens, the hatred burning the vibrant color to ash, you realize that he’s the fox who’s come to hurt the little lamb. His metal eye clicks, a sound you’ve never heard before but is equally as jarring in the silent room. “I gave you what you wanted, and now I’ve ruined you for every male after me, forever.”

The sharp sting in your chest is startling, and you cry out.

He knows about the bond.

His steps falter at the sound, eyes widening for a fraction of a second. There’s a bob of regret to his throat but you’re full on crying now, head down and hair falling across your face like a curtain. You wouldn’t have even noticed the crack in his emotions through the blur of tears anyway.

But those words are his truth. Lucien’s fingers curl into fists at the thought of another male even being in close proximity to you, let alone in your bed, touching you as he did, better than he did.

His mind spins with the thought, each thump of his heart hurts his chest, each tear he catches rolling down your cheek stifles the fire raging within him and he takes a step back. He’s done enough damage, he’s done what he has come to do. You hate him.

The door clicking shut behind him is the final touch to crumble your fragile heart. You feel like a slaughtered lamb left to bleed out on your bedroom floor.

So much for your happy ending.

#Lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien/reader #lucien angst #azsazz #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotarxreader

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ravenwriter16 · 4 months ago

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Creative Minds Think Alike

Episode One---Episode two---Episode three---Episode Four (Here)---Episode Five---Episode Six

Featuring the Amazing: @kinshenewa

Reminder! If the content creator doesn't approve of how i represented them, or their AUs/OCs then I will edit my work or DELETE it. It's not my intention to mock or belittle anyone's work. This series is supposed to showcase amazing creators!

I do not beta read! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

I stand there in the hallway, my back to the wall with all the windows. Arms crossed and feathers bristling. I tap my foot impatiently while tugging on my collar. My formal wear was tight and uncomfortable, the emblem badge on my chest feeling very heavy as of late.

I look around again, my annoyed expression disappearing whenever some castle residents. I smile and wave at them, my frustration not directed at them. I pull out my pocket watch, clicking the button and watching as the lid flips open. I check the time, tsking and closing it with a flick of my wrist.

“Those Staff Bots are late.” I grumble, folding my hands behind my back.

My eyes dart to the wall in front of me. Between two doors, was a big movie poster. The caption read ‘Captain Foxy’s Pirate Adventure’. Featuring, of course, Foxy in his pirate ensemble along with pirates Freddy and Bonnie and mermaid Chica.

I smile, snorting in amusement quietly. “I’ll have to check in with the captain one of these days…that reminds me I have to sort through the pirate DCA AU files 1K-854…”

Beeping draws my attention. I slowly turn my head to the right, staring down the two Staff Bots. I raise a brow, “What’s been taking you so long?”

“Moons.” One beeps, the top of its head bearing deep scratches.

I drag a hand down my face, sighing heavily. “Okay. I’ll add ‘Send out proper Staff Bot care instructions’ when I get back to my office. Do you need to go to P&S or can you function?”

They both raise their toolboxes and pull on the rim of their baseball caps.

I smile, stepping forward to rest a hand on their shoulders. “Fantastic. Now, shall we?”

They nod and I pat their shoulder once before stepping towards the poster. I examine it for a moment before reaching up and pressing the fox icon above two crossing swords on his hat. It pushes in with a click and the sound of gears turning and shifting follow after.

“The Creator is already expecting us and we are running late.” I turn my head slightly over my shoulder, “So let’s do the best we can.”

The two give affirmative beeps.

The sounds from the poster cease, and it swings open. I nod my head, snapping my fingers as I step into the room. The Staff Bots follow me in without a second thought. The room starts off as dark then warm hues of purples, yellows, and blues light up the room.

It was a large circular room, with a dome ceiling that looked like it could retract to allow one a view of the sky. On the floor is a beautiful mosaic of the Sun and the Moon. The tiles shining with the sunlight streaming in from the large windows circling the room. Flowing curtains of purple hand above each window.

Along both sides of the room were hallways that lead to utilities and/or storage. In the center of the main room was a small pillar. On top of this stand was a crystal ball, thick golden and silver threads keeping the orb in place.

“Kinshenewa? Hello? We’re here to fix the pipe leak.”

The Staff Bots behind me stop while I trek closer to the crystal ball. I reach out and hover my hand over the shining orb. Images float to the surface, but none of them were of the Creator I was looking for.

“Hello?” A voice calls out.

I look up, not able to stop the blood from draining my face. In front of me was the Celestial Jester known as Sun. His blue eyes spot us and the frills around his head flutter. He claps his hands together as he saunters over.

“You must be the crew Cadence hired.” Sun gives a small bow, “I am Council Member Sun. And you are?”

“Archivist Number 16 Ravenwriter. But you may call me Raven.” I return his bow with one of my own.

I straighten up and gesture to the Staff Bots, “I hope you do remember the policy regarding the help?”

Sun pouts, “Yes…I don’t know why though.”

I level him with a stern stare, “Because all you DCA variants think it’s funny to destroy the people keeping the castle running.”

Sun laughs, “Oh yes…It was very fun last get-together.”

“For YOU. I, on the other hand, had a MOUNTAIN of paperwork that took me WEEKS to finish.” I shudder, wings puffing up.

Sun perks up, finally laying eyes on my wings. I don’t like the look he was giving me or how his hands twitched. I clear my throat, “Um…KINSHENEWA?!”

A clattering sound could be heard from the hall to the left. “Coming! Coming!”

I heave a sigh of relief. Stepping into the main room was a six-foot tall woman. She drags one hand through her wavy brown hair. When she turns, I can see that some of her hair was shaved on the left side, leaving the strands to be too short compared to the other side, but long enough to be tucked behind her ear.

She was wearing a pair of black, jean shorts and a black t-shirt. The clothing fitting and showcasing her built body. Her black shoes leaving small wet puddles as she steps into the room.

Her hazel eyes find mine. She breathes out a relived sigh, “Raven?”

“That’s me. So sorry to bother you, but we’re here for the pipe burst you reported. Could you please point to the bathroom?” I tilt my head with a smile.

“Yeah. I just came from there.” She jabs a finger behind her shoulder, “Right down there.”

I snap my fingers and the Staff Bots zoom away, beeping as they speed down the hall. I pull out my pocket watch and check the time, “Should be done in no time, Miss Cadence.”

“Thank you! I cannot take another day of Eclipse complaining about what the water does to his electricity…” She shakes her head the looks to Sun, “When will he be back again?”

Sun tilts his head, holding his chin, “Should be around dinner time. Something about a big bounty he couldn’t pass up.” He waves his hand dismissively.

Cadence looks back at me, “Do you want to sit down while you wait?”

I smile, “Yes please!”

I follow her to the couches in the middle of the room. The pillows being stars, moons, and suns. Even some plushies of the Daycare Attendant were there. I take my seat on one of the couches, sitting between a Moon plushie and a sun-themed pillow.

Sun and Cadence take the couch opposite of me. Sun pulling Cadence into his lap and nuzzling the top of her head. Cadence looks me up and down.

“I’m sorry, but have we ever met before?”

I shake my head, “Not that I’m aware of. But in your defensive, I have been held up in the office and…peeling alien potatoes…”

Sun wrinkles his nose, “Is THAT what that smell is?”

I grimace, “Yes…”

The door to the room opening, draws all our attention. Moon steps in, carrying a few books in his arms as he closes the door behind him with a sigh. When he turns around, he stills upon seeing me.

He looks to Sun for answers. Sun smiles, “She’s here for the busted pipe.”

“Oh.” Moon nods his head, walking closer, “You mean the one you broke because you were trying to fix it yourself?”

“HEY! I wasn't the one who thought flushing an ENTIRE roll of toilet paper was a good idea for an experiment!"

“By the way,” Cadence ignores them both as they argue back and forth. The jester’s voices loud but I could still make out her voice. “Will this cost anything?”

“Nothing at all!” I reassure. “But I will need you to review and sign some documents. Nothing big, just stating that if our services were unsatisfactory then we’ll send another maintenance crew by to fix our mistakes.”

“Sounds great! Ompf! SUN!” She swats at Sun’s hands, which were squishing her face into his chest. Moon was now on the couch, pulling one of her arms closer to him.

She was literally in caught in a tug-a-war.

I raise a brow, “Is this normal?”

“Sadly, yes…” her sigh was defeated, showing her resign to her fate. Cadence looks over at her shoulder, eyeing the hall were the sounds of drills whirling and metal clinking echo from. Moon succeeds in stealing her away from his brother, smirking victoriously.

Sun pouts, standing, “Fine! I’ll prepare some mash-potatoes then!”

He huffs as he turns on his heels and heads to the other hall way.

I smile, “That reminds me, we received another shipment of Sundrops and Moondrops. When would you like us to deliver it to your room?”

“Anytime is okay with me. Was there any difficulty with the shipment?” She reaches up and scratches the spot under Moon’s chin.

“We encountered a Troll trying to sneak in past the gates, but he’s been neutralized and some of our Y/n Placeholders are dealing with him as we speak. There is no need to worry.”

“A Troll huh? How many does that make today?” she tilts her head.

“Twenty-Three…” I sigh, leaning back against the couch. “They’re relentless…”

Cadence snarls, baring her teeth while clenching her fists tightly. Moon growls as well, feeling his creator’s anger. I can feel her Auora pulsate from her, feeling like a ton of bricks were weighing down on my chest. A bright purple light surrounds her and takes over her eyes.

Trolls were no laugh matter. They can sneak into the castle at any time and cause unnecessary chaos. They wreck anything they can get their hands on. Painting their sludge over Creator’s paintings and drawings. Adding hate notes when they find written scrolls. They trash rooms or steal supplies.

They were pests.

“By the way.” I stand up and dig a small pouch of ruby hearts out of my pocket. I hand it to Moon, who takes it and gives it to Cadence. “This is on behalf of the Council of the Aligned Society of Creative Minds. They thank you for letting them hire Eclipse to hunt down some wanted Frauds.”

She calms down, the lights fading and her eyes returning to her normal color. I even feel the weight on my chest rise.

“No problem.” She smiles, taking the bag, “Please feel free to call on him anytime.”

“Will do!” I smile.

The Staff Bots roll out, beeping affirmatively before wheeling to the door and exiting. I nod my head, looking back at Cadence, who was now on her feet.

She walks me to the door, “Thank you again for your help.”

“Anytime! Oh!” I stop for a second, “I also wanted to tell you that the castle is hosting a gala in a few days. Would it be okay if you could help me gather some things for the theme?”

She crosses her arms, “That depends? What’s the theme.”

I laugh, “Celestial Dreams~. Or so I’m told…”

“Sound’s fun, I’m in!” She smiles, patting my back.

I wince at her strength, wings shooting up. She opens the door, and I step out.

“Have a great rest of your week!” I bow in farewell.

“You too!” She waves.

“Sweetling?! I have the mash potatoes!” Sun calls out

She perks up and takes off running, the door slowly closing behind her. I wait to make sure the door is securely closed. I smile at the echoing of the lock clicking in place.

I turn and walk down the hall. I pull out a Sundrop that I had swiped from the bowl near the door. I unwrap it and pop the orange treat in my mouth.

I smile, humming to myself. “Yum!”

***

That's Episode four! Thank you again @kinshenewa for letting me use you and your AMAZING Celestial Jesters AU. If you guys haven't read it, go check it out!

Sorry if this fic was hard to follow! But I had a lot of fun writing it and talking with @kinshenewa regarding her room and her AU!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed yourself! Have an Amazing Day or Night!

#fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf security breach #eclipse fnaf #cj au #kinshenwa #Staff Bots #ravenwriter16 #creative minds think alike! au #content creator #my work

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deadsince1973 · 1 year ago

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Poll Below

So, I saw someone say yesterday that "most people skim watch Chinese dramas", and that honestly blew my mind. If it has subtitles, I have to watch it and focus on it.

But then several thoughts occurred to me. You see, right now, my friend and I are watching The Longest Promise and The Screen Foxes. To us, The Longest Promise is painfully slow. We thought it was a little slower than most Chinese dramas, but most Chinese dramas are a little bit slow, and The Longest Promise actually feels much slower to us because we hate the main character and, like, half the story decisions so much, we thought. (Sorry, no offense to Longest Promise fans.) We thought that if we actually liked the main character and were invested in her story, the way the show dilly-dallied on every one of her scenes - having her say the same things over and over again, showing a dozen different angles on some magical moment in her life, having her express feelings about something that happened in a previous episode that she had made very clear at the time - would be enjoyable. Meanwhile, before we started The Screen Foxes, I read three different reviews that said the plot moved lightning-fast, bounced all over the place, and didn't make any sense. And ... none of that is true (so far). The plot moves at a normal pace. A thing happens, and then, something else happens as a consequence. There ARE several different interconnected story threads, and we do bounce back and forth between them, but it all makes sense. And last night, it hit me that maybe The Longest Promise is so slow because you're supposed to "skim watch" it. Certainly, if you dip in and out, you can follow the plot very easily. Scenes are long enough that it's hard to miss a whole one if you're checking back in frequently, repetitive enough that you can understand the point of the scene even if you miss three-quarters of it, and the same points are repeated in multiple scenes, so there are very few details you can miss even if you don't watch it too closely. (Plus, the plot is predictable enough that it's easy to follow.) Meanwhile, because The Screen Foxes doesn't dawdle on any points, if you're not actually sitting down and watching, it must seem chaotic and nonsensical. Why are they fighting this green monster now? Wasn't the show about painting a minute ago? The green monster is being used by a Taoist to body-guard a rich family. The Taoist is actually the one who made the family rich. Why? That's the mystery we need to find out. In the meantime, this family used its wealth to cheat in the painting contest from the last episode, so fighting their body guard is advancing that painting plotline too. But if you looked away from the screen during the two minutes where they were explaining all that, then yeah, it would be super confusing why this show just went from a painting contest to a demon fight.

If Chinese dramas are MEANT to be watched in the background, and that's the reason so many of them are so long and slow, then, honestly, my whole worldview has been changed.

So, TLDR: I have to know now: DO most people actually "skim watch" Chinese dramas????

#P.S. I will have more to say about The Screen Foxes when I finish it probably.#Also the fast-forward option is here because I saw someone say something about that in a post a few months ago.#Also having it on in the background would explain how my Chinese friend - who had a kid and a full-time job - could find time to watch mor #C-dramas than me. It just never crossed my mind because since I don't speak Chinese it would never occur to me to not sit down and focus on #the show.#poll #original #The Screen Foxes #The Longest Promise #The Untamed #Word of Honor #Till the End of the Moon #Love Between Fairy and Devil #Legend of Fei #The Oath of Love #<- Just some C-dramas I was thinking about as I typed all this.

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shadowqueenjude · 1 year ago

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Lucien finally loses his shit and does something batshit crazy part 4

“When he spoke again, there was nothing but Autumn Court fire in his voice.”

Lucien has approached Nesta about the mating bond that has her so worked up!

Nesta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I am not mated to that brute.” She spat the word brute like a curse.

Lucien sighed. “Why would I make this up?” He dared a step closer. She didn’t step away, holding his gaze. It felt like her stormy blue eyes were branding him with the look that glittered in them. “Search deep within yourself. It’s how you knew he was about to die at the hands of the Cauldron. It’s how he knew you were in mortal peril at the library. You can feel the thread, deep in your gut. It may not be strong, but it’s there. Lingering. Close your eyes. Concentrate. Then you’ll feel it.

To his surprise, Nesta obeyed with little hesitation. “I see what you mean,” she said quietly. “It’s… like a little tingly. The sensation. It’s faint, but it’s there, glowing just slightly.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed on Nesta. The magic eye was able to register the thread, thin and feeble as it was. Lucien sent a silent thanks to Nuan, his incredible tinkerer friend who had created this masterpiece for him. “I can see it too.”

Nesta’s brows flew up. “Wow, that magic eye must be really special, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lucien grinned.

“What did you mean when you said you could resolve the mating bond? I thought nothing could break it.”

“No one has succeeded yet,” Lucien corrected her. “But based off of the nature of the bond, someone very powerful with the correct gifts could technically do so.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “You have fire in your blood.” Not an insult, but a question.

Lucien’s grin turned wider. “That’s not all that runs through these veins.” The power he had only revealed once, and as far as he knew, no one had ever suspected of being anything other than chance.

Nesta looked him over. A frank, cool assessment. “And what makes you think I want to break the bond?”

Lucien snorted. “Please. You’re living in the slums when you could be living as royalty. You didn’t show up for any of the holidays. I already know from your sister that you despise the Fae. All of this together shows me you hate being here as much as I do.”

Nesta blinked. Not in surprise, but to buy herself time. “I see why they call you the fox.”

Lucien smirked. “Who told you that?”

Nesta shrugged, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” Lucien idly began braiding a few strands of his hair.

Nesta crossed her arms. Then said, “Cassian tried to give me a gift.”

Lucien stilled his hands, waiting.

“I told him I didn’t want it, that I didn’t want anything of his.” Nesta took a deep breath. “He was furious. He threw his gift into a river. Then he followed me all the way to my house. Insufferable man.”

Lucien scowled. “Bastard. I see where the Illyrians get their terrible reputation.”

A small smile from Nesta at that. “The worst part though, was that I couldn’t feel anything. Until now, I thought I had lost the ability to be normal.” A look at him, grateful this time. “Thank you.”

Lucien blushed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You listened,” Nesta said simply. “Nobody else bothered.”

She offered a hand. He took it. “Trying to break the mating bond- it won’t hurt me? Or Cassian?”

Lucien shook his head. “It’s not a part of you. Think of it like a bridge between souls. A connection. You lived your whole life without such a connection. You will be able to do so once it’s broken.”

Nesta nodded, closing her eyes. “Then, try it. Do your worst.”

Lucien concentrated. He had been tunneling deep into his power for the past several days, rallying enough power to try and break the bond. He now poured all of his magic into that one thread that connected two souls together. He had already warded the Night Court palace where he was sure Cassian would be for an extended period of time, so he wouldn’t detect anything amiss. And since Nesta hadn’t accepted the bond, there were countless explanations for what happened besides him.

At last, he reached the bottom of the thread. The absolute base of the mating bond, the essence of what it was.

And he found out what the mating bond truly was.

The Mother smiles upon her loving descendants. When she is in a loving mood, when her home is bathed in beautiful colors fit for spring, she sees fit to create bridges. Only her bridges aren’t made of anything found on this land, but rather, the unconscious needs that simmer in the abyss of our minds, things we never knew we wanted or needed because it’s something we dare not voice even in our own heads for fear that someone may hear and snatch away our dreams. These thoughts are blended with the threads of destiny. All who are Fae are born have a mate, but only those with great destinies are fortunate enough to meet their mate. Most faerie mates are born in an entirely different era, never knowing that their mate had not been born yet, and had they lasted another 200 years, they may have lived long enough to meet them. Then at last, these threads are woven into the tapestry of desire, for even the most perfect people for each other cannot last without the chemistry that sparks romance. Because a mating bond consists of these three different kind of threads, it is exceptionally rare to meet your mate, have that mate be somebody who actually wants to be with you in every possible way, and have the relationship last forever. After all, a mating bond is not a true mating bond until it has been consummated.

And then the Mother spoke to him.

You dare try to hand back my gift?

The voice was soft and hard, hot and cold, soothing and harsh, beautiful and terrible, all at once.

Lucien managed not to shudder in fear of the voice that spoke in his mind. Steeled himself. When he spoke again, there was nothing but Autumn Court fire in his voice.

A gift she did not ask for and does not want, with a male who will never deserve her.

Impudent male. You dare speak back to me?

I’m not known to fear any man or beast in this world.

I am not of this world, child. I am this world.

See, you say that, but to me you just sound like a typical arrogant superbeing who’s used to getting what they want.

A musical laugh. I’ve never encountered a creation with quite so much impertinence and bravery as you.

Happy to be of service.

He could’ve sworn there was a smile in her voice as she spoke again. For simply daring to speak to me like that, I shall not eviscerate you.

Gee, thanks.

Quiet, child. I have a great destiny lined up for you, and it would be a shame to ruin it now. You wish to break the thief’s mating bond? I suppose it is fair enough. She takes my powers, and I take her mating bond back in exchange.

That’s settled, then. I also want to break Feyre’s mating bond.

Ah, Feyre Cursebreaker. The girl with two mates.

Lucien’s heart stopped. T-two mates??

Surely, you knew the truth, my lovely fox. I gifted you with brains that none can rival. Feyre is indeed Cauldron-Blessed. She not only has two mates, but they’re both High Lords. Rhysand and Tamlin. Didn’t you know? Why else were you so certain Tamlin would seek out Feyre on Calanmai? Did he not bite her on her neck, claiming her as his own in a way only mates do?

But-

Feyre has two distinct sides to her. The person she was as a human, and the person she became after she let too much darkness infect her heart. No light exists without darkness- but Feyre’s has been twisted and convoluted into the kind of darkness that can only be described as wretched. She has lost her sense of right and wrong. She can never picture herself or her husband as wrong in any situation. My creation has been led too far astray. So perhaps I ought to listen to you and break the bond.

Lucien sighed with relief. This was going pretty easy. Too easily if he was being honest. Honesty wasn’t helping him in this situation, however.

But understand, Lucien Spell-Cleaver. Should you have me do this, you will owe me a debt. For every choice you make, there is a cost. Always.

Lucien did not like the sound of that. But he said, I shall pay that price when the time comes.

I know you will, my darling fox. But will you be prepared when payday arrives?

@readingwritingwatching

#fanfic #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #anti nessian #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #anti cassian #tamlin #anti feysand

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lovecolibri · 7 months ago

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And yet if it was all questions related to Tommy they wouldn’t have a concern in the world. They like to say stop making it about buddie, and that it should be about just Buck, but then they turn right around and make it all about Tommy and his perfection. But like you said, asking about buddie is asking about bi Buck. And not to mention buddie is 6 years worth of history at this point. And we’ve learned enough the last few days to know a big portion of bucks bi sexuality was in tandom with Eddie. There is next to nothing to go off of in terms of things related to Buck Tommy. They have had a single kiss and a bad date. That’s it. Interviews would get like one question out of that and then end of topic.

Yeah, I just don't get the hype 🤷🏻‍♀️ Which is normal, I'm a chronic mono-shipper so I just avoid ships that aren't for me and block tags and such. But it's hard because right now there is a LOT of mis/cross tagging so I'm trying to just stay in my bubble.

But yeah, it's weird that people are both saying this should ONLY be about Buck but are also mad that it's not more about Tommy. He's a side character whose job is to move the plot forward, and there are lots of other storylines going on that are going to get the focus in upcoming weeks, and they haven't shot the last couple episodes yet so what is Oliver supposed to say? If there are only a couple more scenes with him and Lou coming up while the storyline focuses on Madney, Bobby, and Henren, he won't want to spoil them. If they already have maped out where the relationship reaches its natural end, he's not going to spoil that either but also won't want to super hype up a relationship he knows isn't going to last. He HAS made a point to say he hopes Tommy can stick around as a friend which to me says that the cast enjoys working with Lou and the audience has been mostly receptive so it's a good character for the show to keep in their back pocket as a recurring guest.

But Buddie??? Oliver has YEARS of pent up Buddie stuff he didn't feel like he could talk about, especially after FOX shut down the storyline, and that he's talking about it now tells me conversations have been had with him, Ryan, Tim, and the network about what possibilities are open to them and likely a broad timeline/plan. Which is of course, subject to change as we saw with this originally being planned for Eddie but due to actress availability, got shuffled around but I don't think they would be clearing these questions and Oliver especially would be answering so freely if he didn't feel like it's where things are eventually heading. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, I think it's important to remember it's a STORY and so of COURSE people are pulling in threads from previous seasons and connecting the dots because that's what you do with stories. And from the first moment Buck sees Eddie and doesn't quite know what that feeling is that he's getting, it's all been tied up in Eddie, with the show reinforcing that relationship at every turn. Why WOULDN'T people make it about Buddie when the story itself tells us it always has been? I just don't always get the "these stories have to be entirely separate from each other" because beyond all else Buck and Eddie are best friends. Of course their stories are going to include each other and be intertwined! And if Buck is looking at his life with new eyes or Eddie is examining what he actually wants in a partner for himself, why WOULDN'T they examine their relationship with each other since it's the most prominent one they have?

ANYWAY

*i just have a lot of feelings.gif*

#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #buddie

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amandacanwrite · 3 months ago

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Violet Thread of Fate || Part Eight: A Search

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Join Taglist

POV || 3rd Person -- Gale Dekarios

Scenario|| Elinna Inklynn is an orphan with an uncanny ability to mess up even the simplest of spells. It’s not her fault; she hasn’t ever had access to a proper teacher. But she has had access to books, and she’s read about a certain gentleman wizard in Waterdeep that may just be willing to help her.

She books passage on a ship from the Moonshae Islands and sails to Waterdeep, only to be rejected by Gale Dekarios. He doesn’t take on apprentices.

But their paths become inextricably intertwined when an enormous Nautiloid targets the City of Splendors.

Word Count || 4,400 words

Warnings || This chapter has spooky spiders in it and descriptions of blood/wounds.

A/N || Enjoy Gale being worried sick over his accidental charge.

Taglist || @verba-writing @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear

@mymybirdie

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Gale scrubbed a hand over his mouth as he watched Halsin strike a flint with a dagger and start a fire. Night was falling and Elinna was still nowhere to be found. The other druid, Briar, was out in their wildform following Elinna’s scent after finding a spot of her blood on the ground between two stones, within a cavern he had somehow missed entirely.

He’d only been separated from Elinna for a few moments when Halsin and Briar found him and offered their help. It took until the early afternoon to find the blood, which had already dried by the time it was found.

“You have the expression of a man over-burdened,” Halsin said, interrupting Gale’s recounting of the day’s events for the umpteenth time.

“I am,” Gale said with a heavy sigh. “I suppose I’m feeling especially stupid for missing the alcove. And terrified that something horrendous has happened to her.”

“We will find her–Briar said that it was not a large amount of blood,” Halsin said. “Enough to wound, but not to kill.”

“For some reason, the idea of a young lady being kept alive after being harmed doesn’t sit well in my chest either,” Gale said.

Halsin nodded with grim understanding.

“She was only out of my sight for seconds,” Gale said, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Seconds.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Halsin said. “Wandering in the wilds of the sword coast is always risky. Nautiloid aside, there are goblins and bandits. Any number of hazards.”

“It is–if I hadn’t been horrible to her; if I hadn’t made her cry…she wouldn’t have been walking so fast. She couldn’t have been spirited away. If I’d been better rested, I could have used my magic to find her,” he said.

“Believe me when I say that I understand,” Halsin said. “But I encourage you to not lose hope, either. She’s not been missing long, and no matter what treatment she’s being subjected to, if they’ve kept her alive she is most likely to live another day.”

Gale exhaled slowly and nodded, rubbing the spot over his chest that still insisted on being fed, even with how distraught he was over Elinna’s vanishing.

Halsin looked over to the forest. “They return,” Halsin said.

Gale followed Halsin’s gaze and after a few moments, a small red fox appeared from the treeline, woefully alone. Briar shifted out of their wild shape and looked between the two men.

The grim expression on Briar’s face was enough to make Gale’s insides whither.

“I traced her scent to the blighted village, but I had to turn back,” they said.

“Goblins? I thought they’d been fully cleared out,” Halsin said.

Briar shifted a little uncomfortably on their feet.

“Well…it’s just that…the scent led me into the underground and I found myself hesitant to go in by myself. Underground spaces make me feel a bit uncomfortable now,” they said.

Gale watched as Halsin’s gaze softened and he reached a hand out to Briar, beckoning them closer. Briar slipped their hand into Halsin’s, which Halsin cradled with care before kissing the edge of their knuckles.

Gale found himself looking away from the sudden display of intimacy, feeling something gnarl in his stomach. Some bitter edge of a want that would not be satisfied.

“We’ll get rest and follow the trail in the morning,” he heard Halsin say.

Gale’s gaze snapped back to them.

“The morning?” Gale said. “No, we should go over there immediately!”

“We’re all a bit worse for wear,” Halsin said. “I’ve exhausted my wildshape, and you told me yourself that your sleep last night did not rejuvenate your own magic. If there’s a battle to be fought, we won’t be able to win it.

“If we don’t go after her now, we may lose her forever,” Gale said. “She could be dead by the time we wake up in the morning. I might be out of the will to conjure more sophisticated and nuanced spells such as locating spells. But I can still blow a beast up or two.”

It was true. Using the weave for destruction required far less focus and skill. It was why the first years learning magic were so fraught with injuries and mishaps. It was why a girl like Elinna could cast, but only chaotically.

Halsin looked up at Briar, who gave a bit of a shrug.

Gale’s irritation flared.

“If saving Elinna is less important to you than a good night’s sleep, I’ll go by myself,” Gale said.

“A compromise,” Halsin suggested. “We’ll get closer tonight. Learn what we can. See if we can save her tonight but, I must implore you. If there is a fight to be had, let it at least be after a short respite.”

Gale didn’t know if he could agree to that, but at least agreeing to this compromise would get them closer to where Elinna was.

“Fine,” he finally said.

Halsin’s large chest rose and fell with a sigh as he looked over at Briar. “Will you lead the way, my heart? I’ll get this fire put out.”

It was less than another half-hour before the three of them were on the path, though the lighting wasn’t conducive to searching for much of anything. Gale used a cantrip to conjure a small ball of light to illuminate the way, lest he or the others injure themselves on an errant stone.

By the time they reached the blighted village, the moon was high in the sky. The village loomed ahead, veiled in mists that clung to broken cobbled roads like a miasma. Even without entering, Gale could feel the sticky presence of dark magic and it made his heart ache with worry.

“Her scent goes underground, strongest near the workshop, but I didn’t get far in,” Briar said. “We can set up camp on one of the roofs nearby.”

“You go ahead. I’m going to keep going and see if I can’t find her.”

Briar’s brown eyes widened and they looked between Gale and Halsin, who’s expression became serious.

“We made an agreement–a compromise–” Halsin started.

“I am not willing to compromise on the matter of Elinna’s safety,” Gale said. “If you need to rest, I invite you to do so, but I–I dare say I won’t even be able to get any rest even if I tried.”

Halsin and Briar looked at each other once more.

“If the situation were reversed, if it were you in there, I’m sure I would feel the same,” Briar said.

“I already know first hand that I would. I experienced it only days ago,” Halsin admitted somewhat grimly. He looked at Gale, then. “You’re sure you can fight?”

Gale tried not to think too much about a romantic pair drawing parallels between their own connection and his connection to Elinna. He decided instead to be relieved that they’d agreed to join him, instead. “I have enough in me to chuck out a few destructive spells. It’s not so hard to ruin a spell so catastrophically that it aids in combat.”

“Very well,” Halsin said. “I can’t take wildshape, but this body isn’t just for show. I can muster a fight.”

Briar nodded in silent agreement and Gale exhaled, feeling relieved. He gave his stiff shoulders a loosening roll.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Briar took the lead once again.

The heaviness in the air only worsened as they entered a dilapidated building and descended a set of creaking, wooden stairs. The conjured balls of light cast elongated shadows that sometimes made Gale do a double take when he thought he’d spotted some phantom or monster lurking in the darkness.

Nothing was ever there. Just the growing weight of some presence deeper within.

Briar came to a stop as they reached a tired old forge. Strewn around seemed to be the signs of a fresh struggle, including smoldering gashes in the ground where haphazard spellwork was done.

“This is where I stopped,” they said as they nodded over to a hole in the brick wall, leading to a network of caves beyond.

Past the opening in the wall was a cave smelling of mildew. Even in the dim lighting, Gale could see the faint reflective quality of something on the ground.

Spider silk.

He took a few hesitant steps toward the opening, feeling sick when he saw it.

On one of the large swathes of cobwebs was a smudge of blood. It was still wet. Recent.

“Is it hers?” he asked without looking back at Briar.

“Yes,” they said gravely.

Gale nodded, steeling his resolve. “On we go, then,” he said.

Their steps became slower, more cautious as they descended into the cool, damp cavern. More blood followed, and Gale found himself worried about the supply Elinna would have left when they found her.

The cave was…shockingly large. More like a cavern than a network of man-made tunnels for what he’d assumed would have been a village well. It stretched up above them, probably more than a hundred feet from floor to ceiling.

There were clusters of eggsacks everywhere, smooth and white and nearly the size of his mother’s serving platters back in waterdeep. He hated to think of the size of the creature that laid those eggs, or the potency of the venom of the offspring within them. A faint sheen of nervous perspiration broke out upon Gale’s brow as they continued on.

He wasn’t the only cagey one, it seemed. Briar’s shoulders were so tense they were almost pulled up to their ears. Part of Gale felt guilty for pushing them to lead the way and another part of him wondered what had happened that made the young druid so uncomfortable with being underground.

Before long they heard the quiet grunts of a man. The sounds of someone struggling against restraints. They rounded a corner and found him.

He was pale with moon-white hair. His eyes were the color of rubies. He was wrapped tightly in a cocoon of spider silk and only a few feet away from him, hanging motionless, her hair disheveled and her skin worryingly pale, was Elinna.

Gale’s heart did flips in his chest and he couldn’t decide which emotion he felt more; fear for the state or her health or elation to find her still breathing–however shallow that breathing was.

“Let me down from here!” The pale elf demanded. “That blasted creature will be back any moment.”

Gale ignored him and approached where Elinna was hanging, unconscious. He looked back at the others, his expression desperate. “Help me get her down,” Gale pleaded.

Halsin was near tall enough that he could reach to cut her down, but just as he neared there was a terrible hissing sound from the towering ceiling of the cave.

“No!” The other captive cried. “No, No! Hurry, let me down! It’s going to eat me.”

Briar lifted their nose to the air, sniffing a few times before crinkling their nose. “He’s the other scent that I detected with Elinna’s,” they said.

“You’re the one who stole her away? The one who made her bleed?” Gale sneered.

“Ah–I thought I was doing you both a favor!” the pale stranger said, giving his most apologetic, charming smile. “But I see now that I was mistaken, of course. C-can we not let bygones be bygones?”

Gale narrowed his eyes up at the man. If he could have his way, he’d have incinerated the bastard outright. As it was, though, Gale would need to save all of the energy he had for the battle ahead.

The three of them backed away somewhat at the giant spider descended from the cavern ceiling and closer to the ground.

Gods…the thing was the size of a full grown owlbear.

The stranger craned to look up, his charming expression faltering as the massive spider poised itself over Elinna.

The stranger’s amenable behavior dropped as the spider gave a terrible hiss, its front legs lifting as if preparing to strike.

“Get me down. NOW!” he demanded as he squirmed in his spider silk cocoon.

Briar’s eyes narrowed as they looked at the spider, turning their head slightly as if trying to listen to a single conversation in a crowded room.

In the same moment, Halsin’s brow furrowed.

Gale realized that the druids likely understood what the abhorrent creature was saying. It wasn’t uncommon at all for druids to speak with animals and monsters thanks to their innate connection to nature. “Can you communicate with it? Negotiate perhaps?” Gale asked, already flexing his fingers to try and pull at strings of the weave and attack if necessary.

“Normally, I would say yes, but she seems disinterested in negotiating,” he said. “She… said something strange.”

“Gods, who cares?!” The pale elf cried. “Get me down, get me down!”

“She says that she’s going to take the girl as an offering to Lolth–in hopes of earning her good favor,” Briar told Gale, ignoring the stranger’s pleading.

Strange indeed. What would Lolth want with a girl like Elinna? How would taking her to the goddess of torture, cruelty and spiders earn the creature any favor?

Whatever the case, Gale could already feel how weak and almost slippery his grasp on the weave was. It wouldn’t serve him well; at least not as well as it would if he was well rested and the orb in his chest was properly fed. Perhaps Halsin had been right about needing to wait–then again, if they had, Elinna might be halfway to the underdark by the time they made it. Maybe even already in the spindly clutches of Lolth herself.

Gale glared at the shouting man some feet away from Elinna, just out of reach of the spider.

“If we let you down, it is with the expectation that you help us best this creature,” Gale snarled. “Am I understood?”

“Yes! Yes!” he begged. “Whatever you want, please!”

Gale mustered what he could of the weave and brought it to a focus at the tips of his fingers before hurling a bolt of fire toward the spider’s web.

As if it were a child’s candy floss falling into a puddle, the entire web melted away as that fire spread, dropping the stranger on the ground along with the massive creature and–the poor girl–Elinna.

Gale couldn’t decide if he was relieved or horrified that one of the hairy limbs of the spider scooped up Elinna’s cocooned form before they both made impact with the ground below.

“Get up and fight,” Gale sneered as the pale elf pulled lingering bits of cobwebs from his dark leather armor.

“No need to be rude,” he tutted as he got to his feet, drawing a pair of vicious looking daggers from where they were belted at his thigh.

The four of them only had a few moments to prepare as the creature righted itself. Briar drew a crossbow and loaded bolts. Halsin unstrapped a glaive from his back and gave it an impressive, artful flourish.

Gale had never been much for combat–at least not martial combat. But he would do everything he could to call forth the weave.

“Mystra protect us all, if she can hear us down here,” Gale said gravely.

The spider moved with unnerving agility, Elinna discarded callously behind her now that she was close enough to the ground to survive the fall. Gale did his best to stay focused on the creature, though he wanted nothing more than to run over to his unlikely travel companion and check on her well-being.

As the enormous arachnid drew closer, Briar lifted their crossbow and fired a bolt. It flew with impressive precision, the bolt lodging itself in one of the spider’s eight eyes. The creature reared back, screeching and flailing four of its eight legs.

In the chaos, Halsin was thrown into a nearby stalagmite. The stone crumbled under his body.

Briar cried out and bolted after him, leaving Gale and the stranger alone.

“What are you doing?!” Gale called.

But Briar ignored him as they crouched in front of Halsin protectively while he got his bearings again.

Gale growled and shook his head, placing his focus on what he could control. The weave. He honed his attention to a razor edge, lifting both hands and moving them with expert precision in complex casting gestures.

He could feel the weave crackle and coalesce around him, building and building.

Perhaps Mystra heard him after all, he thought, as he cried out the spell’s incantation.

“Perurere!”

A blinding flash of lightning slammed into the huge spider, the smell of burning carcass filled the cavern, sickly and acrid.

Halsin was back on his feet again and there in seconds, raising the glaive and driving it into the spider’s side. It’s blood sprayed out in a rain of acid, dousing the druid and blinding him. Halsin let out a cry and backed away.

“My turn,” the pale stranger said as he dropped down into a crouch and sprinted for the spider. He brought his blades down on one of the spider’s eight legs, severing it from the bulbous, smoking body of the monstrous creature.

Gale couldn’t help but think that, for all the worry over their party being fatigued before going into this fight, they were actually doing alright.

But he spoke too soon.

The spider simply vanished. Flashed out of existence completely before reappearing behind them near a cluster of the eggs they’d walked past on their way in.

“Shit,” the pale elf said, expressing exactly the thought Gale had in his mind.

The spider–the phase spider, as it so appeared–let out another ear-piercing cry and dozens of spider eggs started to hatch. Their nubile white bodies scrambling out of sickly-green goo and gathering around the remaining seven legs of their mother.

After chittering back and forth with their mother for a few seconds, the mass of spiders made a run toward the four of them in a hunger-fueled stampede.

Briar was healing Halsin when they looked over at the approaching hoard. “H-Halsin…” they said, their voice quivering.

Halsin winced a single eye open and cursed lowly. “Everyone, behind me! Now!” he shouted. “Gale, I’ll need your help.”

Gale looked back, realizing suddenly that the path to Elinna was entirely clear. He looked at Halsin as he stood and ran over to one of the huge pillars of stone jutting out of the ground and forming a canopy over their heads. He wasn’t sure what Halsin was planning, but as he saw the Druid prepare, he put two and two together.

He wanted to cause a cave in.

“It’s too risky!” Gale said as he hurried over to Halsin. “If we do this, it may bring the entire cave down on our heads!”

“We have no other choice– we can’t fight that many,” Halsin said. “It’s either risk dying and have a good chance of making it, or have no chance at all.”

“They can teleport! They’re phase spiders,” Gale said. “Even if we cut them off, they can get to us!”

“Not if they’re crushed,” Halsin called back. “Now, help me, Gale. Or we all die!”

Gale looked back at Elinna, then to Briar. Briar gave Gale a quick nod of understanding, getting onto their feet and running over to Elinna. He didn’t hear the incantation or see any casting gesture, but he did see the dome of golden weave that emanated from the smaller of the two druids, forming a protective barrier around both themselves and Elinna.

At least that could do something–at least something for the girl–if the cave came down. It would protect her from the impact.

Halsin placed his hands on one pillar of stone and the earth began shaking violently. “See to the other side,” Halsin shouted over the rumble of earth.

Gale looked at another pillar, forming what resembled a stone archway with the one Halsin was in the process of destroying. Gale rallied himself again, sensing the magic in the ground and seeking to disrupt it. With another flourish of his hands he inhaled and cried out, “Detono!”

The ceiling came down with terrific and terrible force. So much force that Halsin and Gale had to scramble back from it to not get crushed along with the hoard of spiders.

There was a cacophony of screeching sounds, of stone cracking together.

Then there was no sound at all; only a cloud of dust.

The four of them heaved heavy breaths as the reality of surviving dawned on all of them.

Gale coughed and swatted his hand in front of his face, trying to clear his mouth and eyes of pulverized stone. As the plume of dirt and dust settled, Gale found himself relieved by the sight of ichorous green goo oozing from the pile of stones before them.

“A bit anticlimactic if you ask me,” a smarmy voice came from behind him.

Gale’s head whipped around to see the elf standing there, his blades sheathed and his weight kicked off to one hip. Gale gritted his teeth and turned, storming towards the man.

He seemed ill-prepared for Gale’s sudden pursuit, starting to back up a few steps. But Gale got there too quickly, balling his fists in his threadbare clothes and giving him a shake.

“What did you do to her?” Gale snarled. “What is wrong with her?”

“Me?!” he asked. “You think I did that? Hells, all I did was grab her as a snack and ask her to take me to the inn!”

“Sna–” Gale’s face contorted with disgust as he looked toward Elinna.

Briar turned Elinna’s head to the side and tore at some of the webs still wrapped around her neck, revealing two puncture wounds caked in dark, dry blood. Gale glared at the stranger again, but he already had two hands up in surrender.

“I wasn’t going to kill her,” he said. “My name is Astarion. I’m a magistrate from Baldur’s Gate. I was just trying to get home, but I was weak and I needed to eat.”

“You’re vampire spawn?” Gale asked. “How did you even make it over here with the daylight? You should have been turned into ash.”

Suddenly, searing pain overtook Gale, burning a path through his synapses. There were flashes of memories–memories not belonging to him. There was Baldur’s gate, then the Nautiloid, then the worm. Then Elinna’s fearful face, streaked with quiet tears.

Gale released the vampire, holding his own head in his hand.

“You–you were picked up by the nautiloid?” he asked.

“What, you were too?” Astarion asked. “That pesky thing they put in out brains seems to have rendered me immune to the sunlight.”

“Both Elinna and I were–from Waterdeep,” Gale said shaking his head. “We were trying to get to some measure of civilization–”

“Gale?” Briar said.

He looked over at Briar and found the druid’s face worryingly grave. It seemed that while Gale had been busy with Astarion, Halsin and Briar had gotten Elinna free of her spider-silk cocoon and done a preliminary examination. Still, even being far away with the sub par lighting, Gale could see the dire state of things.

Elinna was so, so pale. Pale as death. Her body looked limp and heavy and…

And there was an enormous wound on her upper thigh, oozing some fluid that looked like the same ichor that flowed from the stones where the spiders were now crushed.

Astarion clicked his tongue.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Astarion said. “The little witch led me off course, trying to shake me off, I think. Only she got us out of the frying pan and into the fire. That thing attacked us and it used its venom on her. She was paralyzed in seconds and we’d both been ensnared moments later.”

Gale hurried over to her side, taking Elinna’s face in his hands. He patted her mauve-freckled cheeks gently, trying to rouse her if only for a moment. “Elinna, wake up,” he coaxed. “We can’t start your lessons if you give out on me now.”

But she was unmoving–not even a flutter of her lashes or a twitch of her brow.

Gale looked at Halsin, his expression desperate.

“She seems to have lost a lot of blood,” Halsin told him. “If she had more, we might have even been able to have the vampire spawn purify her by sucking out the venom, but it’s too risky with her in this state. We’ll need to get her out of here and I’ll need to gather ingredients to create a purifying poultice. It’s her only chance of survival.”

“We just destroyed our access to the way out of here,” Gale said, gesturing with a hand back to the piles of stones.

“We’ll have to find another way out. There was running water at the mouth of the cave. If we can find where that water goes, we can probably find a way out of here,” Halsin said.

“How much time do we have before it’s too late?” Gale asked.

Halsin pressed his lips together and heaved out a sigh. “Perhaps until dawn, perhaps not even that long. I’ve never seen a victim of this kind of venom look this ill,” he said. “So best we get moving now.”

Gale’s throat tightened painfully as he looked down at his charge.

This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been such a troll to her–if he’d just taught her something to protect herself–she may not have wound up in this mess.

Now her life was at risk and he may not be able to do anything to save her.

Halsin placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him out of his spiral of despair.

“We can only put one foot in front of the other,” Halsin said. “Let us start with the first step. All is not lost. Not yet.”

Gale nodded. “Right,” he said quietly. “Let’s get going. No time like the present.”

His tone lacked the cheer it usually did.

Gale leaned over, putting Elinna’s arm over his shoulders and cradling her back and underneath her legs. He got back onto his feet, knees barking in protest for a moment before he settled into carrying her limp body.

At this point he would take a blessing from any god or goddess. Mystra or otherwise.

If only Elinna would be alright.

If only Elinna would make it to see another day.

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