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hottpinkpenguin · 2 years ago

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Joel Miller X Fem!Reader - Last of Us - Part 2

A/N: read part 1 here!

Warnings: hints of sexual violence (no descriptions); dark themes; post-apocalyptic dystopia; death of reader's minor child; probably a lot of non-canon details since I've never played the game; not proofread; spoilers if you haven't seen the show/played the game Word Count: 2650 Abbreviations: QZ = quarantine zone; FDRA "Fedra" = Federal Disaster Response Agency

----

“You look like hell, Joel.”

“K.”

Tessa looked Joel up and down, making a point to grimace as she did.

“What, am I too ugly to do business with or something?” Joel’s tone was biting, his patience running thin. The restlessness in his bones was gnawing something awful today.

“Where’d your pet go?”

Joel’s stare was flat, but Tessa knew him well enough to see the slight jump in his jaw muscle as he clenched his teeth momentarily.

“My pet?”

“Yeah, that sad sack with the dead kid.”

Joel’s knuckles turned white on the back of the chair he was leaning on.

“What are you talk-”

“Oh come on, Joel. Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like every other stupid fuck around here.” Tessa gestured around the dimly lit basement where she’d met Joel for the swap. They were alone, but Joel knew who she was referring to. Her crew. Good at stealing, running, and turning profits, but not amusing to her the way he was. Joel didn’t react, he just kept staring at her.

“It’s my job to know what my guys are up to,” Tessa pointed out as if she were explaining something to a young child.

“I’m not one of your guys,” Joel countered through gritted teeth. “The only thing we need to know about each other is what I have and what you’ll pay for it.” He looked pointedly at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes, sawed off shotgun, and car battery on the table between them.

Tessa chewed on the inside of her lip as she looked up at him. The bare lightbulb overhead cast harsh shadows on her face.

“That wasn’t always true, though.” Her voice was softer now, a hint of playfulness in her tone. An invitation. She smirked up at him coquettishly. Joel shook his head, trying to shake out the memories that expression brought to mind.

“That was a mistake, Tessa.”

“A good one, though. Sometimes good mistakes are worth making a few times.”

Joel shook his head, exhaling softly. He should have known better. Never put your prick where you put your money.

“No, Tessa.”

“Come on, Joel. Just for old time’s sake.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Tessa’s eyes turned from flirtatious to bitter as the smile melted from her lips.

“So she was your pet.”

Joel felt himself tense up. This was a game that he really didn’t want to play. Tessa was a dangerous woman. He’d done well to stay on her good side for so many years, but this had been a serious miscalculation. He shouldn’t have plucked at her jealousy by bringing you into the mix.

“She wasn’t anything,” he insisted. He kept his tone even, forced himself to hold Tessa’s accusing gaze. Tessa had a good bullshit meter, but she was blind when it came to Joel. He’d used that a few times before, but this was a moment when it really mattered. He couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you.

A heavy tension settled between them as Tessa took a drag of her cigarette. Joel swallowed down a surge of anger at the oblique threat to your safety.

“Fine.” Tessa stood up quickly, tamping out the end of her cigarette on the table and surveying its contents. “I’ll give you eight for the lot.”

Joel ran a hand through his graying hair in exasperation.

“That’s less than half of what we agreed on.”

“Yeah, it is.” Tessa knocked on the metal door behind her. It swung open, two of her lackeys swooping in to scoop up the contraband that Joel had brought her. Tessa grabbed a duffel bag from one of them, unzipping a side pocket and rifling through a dirty, wrinkled stack of meal cards. She pulled out eight pink slips and thrust them towards Joel. He knew better than to argue, and took them begrudgingly.

“You’re screwing me on this, Tessa.”

“And you’re screwing her.” Tessa’s voice was low. Joel didn’t miss the pain in her words. “In your dreams or in reality. Either way, you’re screwing her.”

Joel opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. His mouth snapped close. Tessa nodded in confirmation. She zipped up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

“So this is about me not picking you?” Joel couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. He could have kicked himself for the fucking stupidity.

Tessa froze halfway up the first step of the stairwell behind the door. She half-turned back to him. On the other side of the doorframe, her entire face was cast in shadow.

“Partially. But partially because I can’t trust you anymore.”

“How do you figure that?” Joel stuffed the eight cards into the back pocket of his jeans, sensing that their conversation was coming to an end. He didn’t want to linger any longer than he needed.

“Because. You’re not a free agent anymore, Joel. You’ve got something to lose. Which means people can get to you. And if they can get to you, they can get to me.”

Tessa didn’t wait for him to reply before she started up the stairs. The door behind her swung shut, leaving Joel alone with the bare lightbulb and a jolt of fear in his gut that confirmed one thing:

Tessa was right.

*****

The frozen ground crunched under your knees as you knelt down in front of the lopsided piece of wood that marked Gabriel’s grave. He wasn’t buried there, of course; FDRA confiscated all the corpses. What they did with them from there, you couldn’t let yourself think about. But you’d buried his favorite pair of sneakers and the tattered Captain America comic book he loved so much in this spot. It had been weeks since you’d visited.

“Hi, baby.” You patted the cold, hard soil in front of his grave marker with a trembling hand. The frigid January air had gnawed your fingertips numb.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

In the distance, a raven cawed.

“Things have been… well, they’ve been bad since you left.”

The abandoned lot you’d buried Gabriel in was overgrown with vines. It had been a playground once. A rusted swing set lay overturned on its side a few feet from where you knelt. Behind it, a monkey bar and slide combo emerged from the weeds. Gabriel used to like to play here when he was little. Eddie would take him on the rare days he had off.

“I miss you.” You choked on the words, feeling your resolve beginning to fracture as tears burned the corners of your eyes. You swiped them away as your nose started to run.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying to do better. I’m trying, baby.”

Next to the wooden stake with Gabriel’s name roughly carved into it, a second stake stuck out from the ground. It was more worn and weathered after years of sun and rain. Eddie’s name was barely visible anymore. Like Gabriel, Eddie also wasn’t buried here, but this was where you chose to remember him.

“I love you both.” Two hands on the ground this time. One in front of each of your boys. A tear slid free from your cheek and slapped onto the frosted ground between your knees.

“I’ll visit more, I promise.” You rose from your knees, tucking your frozen hands under your armpits with a shiver.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

Your body went still, icy dread shooting through your veins. You knew that voice.

“Just paying my respects, Dirk.”

You turned to face Dirk Reynolds, keeping your face in a mask of calm. He was the last person you wanted to run into out here so far from the rest of the QZ.

“Sorry to hear about your boy.” Dirk sounded anything but sorry. He was walking towards you slowly, eyeing you like prey. You fought the urge to run, but the sight of the FDRA-issued semi-automatic in his hands made you think twice.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Actually, it meant dog shit to you, but Dirk Reynolds wasn’t a man to play with. Even Eddie had been afraid of him, and Eddie was as fearless as they came. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of how alone the two of you were.

“You’re all alone now, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but take a half step back. He was still a good fifteen paces from you, but too close for comfort. His words set your teeth on edge.

“I like to come out here by myself. Get some peace and quiet.” You knew that wasn’t the kind of alone Dirk was getting at, but you were desperate to change the subject. His brown, bloodshot eyes raked you up one side and down the other. Despite the layers of clothing you’d piled on to try and fight off the Boston winter, his gaze made you feel woefully underdressed.

“That ain’t what I meant, y/n.” His voice dropped an octave, practically turning into a growl. He kept moving closer to you, taking his time, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’m getting by,” you stammered back. “Mrs. Hughes and her girls are good to me. They look out for me.” You wondered if Dirk would back down knowing that there were people who might miss you if you stayed out too long. Mrs. Hughes and her daughters were good to you, but you doubted that they’d notice your absence until well past curfew. God knows what shape Dirk would have you in by then. Your throat went dry and you felt your lip start to tremble.

“You look scared, y/n. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He was close enough that you could hear the frost-stiff ground crunch under his feet.

“I- I know.” Your reply wasn’t convincing in the least. Because you knew one thing: Dirk Reynolds would hurt you. You’d heard plenty of stories from the other women who lived near you in the QZ.

“I look out for my friends. And I’ve got plenty of friends around here. I could treat you real good. Keep you warm, comfortable. Keep you safe.” Dirk lingered on the last word, a thinly veiled threat.

“I’m sure. And we all appreciate everything you do for us. Truly.”

Dirk was FDRA, but he was also something of a self-styled neighborhood mafioso. He took bribes from all the drug dealers, smugglers, and pimps in the four block radius where you lived, and in exchange Dirk turned a blind eye to their goings and comings. You remembered him from when you’d first gotten to the QZ. He’d been a fat, boastful lecher back then. The twenty years since had seen him shed the beer gut and hone a real violent streak. He wasn’t the brightest man you’d met by half, but you couldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. You hoped your appeal to his ego would work.

“I wouldn’t mind if you showed me some of that appreciation.”

You fell back another half step, your hands still raised in the air like it was a stick up. The fact that he hadn’t told you to put them down told you enough about his intentions.

“What… Dirk, I- uh, I’m not ready… For all that. Still grie-grieving.” You could barely speak, the sheer panic ringing in your ears like bells. He was close enough to reach out and touch you now. You started calculating the chances of making it if you took off in a run. That gun he held in his hands gave you pause. You’d seen what Dirk did to some of the women who’d turned down his advances. And you’d known a few women - by face only - who’d mysteriously disappeared. There were rumors, of course, that Dirk had something to do with it; but up until now, you’d been able to wave those rumors off. You had other worries to pay attention to. But now, all you could think about was getting away. You didn’t think you’d make it very far before he shot you. And despite everything you’d lost, the terror pulsing in your blood told you that you weren’t ready to die. Not yet.

“Y/N! There you are!” A vaguely familiar voice called out to you from over Dirk’s shoulder. You kept yourself completely still as Dirk’s face darkened in irritation, grunting angrily as he spun around to face the source of the sound.

Joel Miller was striding across the frozen carpet of vines at the northeast corner of the empty playground, waving at you like you were an old friend. Your knees almost buckled in relief at the sight.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I wish you’d told me you’d come out here to see Gabriel.” Your heart twitched at the sound of your son’s name. An idle corner of your thoughts wondered how Joel knew that’s why you were here, but that was a question for later. With Dirk distracted, you made your move. You scurried around Dirk, careful not to get close enough to let him grab you, and made a beeline for Joel. You had to consciously fight the urge to run.

“Sir, I appreciate you looking after her.” Joel’s tone was sunny and friendly. A little too obsequious, you thought, but maybe that was because you knew Joel was putting on a show for Dirk’s benefit.

You closed the distance between you and Joel quickly, the skin on your back prickling in a frenzy to get away from Dirk.

“Get behind me,” Joel whispered to you through gritted teeth when you were in earshot. His voice was low and urgent, but the smile he wore for show never faltered.

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Dirk’s reply was casual, but his tone was threatening and coarse. “Pretty little thing like that shouldn’t be alone in these parts. Can’t be too careful. All kinds of things slipping through the wall these days.” You knew Dirk was referring to the infected that occasionally broke into the QZ through the maze of dilapidated buildings, subway tunnels, and sewers. For your part, you’d have gladly traded the open city to get as far away from Dirk’s leering stare as possible.

“That’s what I tell her, once a day if it’s twelve times. Isn’t it?” Joel turned to you, obscuring his face from Dirk’s view. There was a question in his eyes: did he hurt you. You shook your head quickly, letting your eyes fall to the ground. You sidled closer to Joel’s shoulder. He noted the movement and casually shifted his weight to step squarely between you and Dirk.

“We’ll go on and head back then. Don’t want to miss curfew. Thanks for your help, again. I won’t let her out of my sight, that’s a promise.” Joel turned away from Dirk, gesturing with his eyes for you to walk towards the boarded up building at the far end of the playground. He kept himself behind you, between you and Dirk.

“Make sure you do that,” Dirk called out after the two of you. His voice was bitter and dark.

“Keep walking. Don’t look back,” Joel urged. He hovered a hand on your lower back, his touch so light you thought you imagined it. Despite the remnants of fear crackling in your nerves, his touch sent a gentle wave of warmth up your spine. You felt the terror subside slightly.

You let Joel lead you silently back to his apartment. The two of you never shared a word, but there was a clear understanding that you wouldn’t be going home. It wasn’t until you stepped through the familiar doorway that you let out the faintest smile at the promise Joel had made: I won’t let her out of my sight. You knew the promise had been made under duress, but you sincerely hoped he was serious.

read part 3 here! **let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #last of us #joel miller last of us #last of us imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #last of us hbo

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unpredictable-probabilities · 2 months ago

Text

Intertwining Symphonies || Chapter 1: Sunday at the Park with Robyn

Summary:

A small mishap at the park leads to new friendships and an invitation.

Note:

I originally wrote this as a gift to @patchyegg87 <3

I hope you like it, too!

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,293

Square/Prompt: B2 - Free Space | @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Family, Family Fluff, Ice Cream, Friendship, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Kid Fic, Single Parents

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59036896

—

“Can I get both vanilla and chocolate?” Robyn was practically bouncing on his heels, barely holding himself still enough to stay in the queue with Hob.

“Of course, duck,” Hob smiled at the sight of his son still bursting at the seams with energy even after running around the park for almost an hour already.

Hob had packed the usual snacks for Robyn, but today an ice cream truck stopped by and his son practically dragged him over.

It was finally their turn to place their order, and Hob ordered a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate in the biggest cone size available.

As he got his wallet from his pocket, something blunt hit the back of his head.

“Ow!” Hob instinctively put a hand up to where the pain was beginning to sting and turned around to see what happened.

A man wearing a black shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows was jogging towards them. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said in a voice deeper than Hob would have expected and picked up a blue plastic Frisbee from the ground. “My son and I had been playing. Please, let me pay for the ice cream,” he took his wallet out.

“What? No, that’s not necessary,” Hob quickly paid for it himself and handed the cone to Robyn.

“Are you okay, dad?” Robyn asked in concern as he took it.

“Yeah, no harm done,” Hob smiled at his son before turning to the man. “Really, it’s alright.”

Their small group moved to the side when other people queued up at the truck, then a boy with fair skin and raven hair ran up to the man and partially hid behind him, peeking up at Hob.

“I’m sorry, Mister,” he mumbled.

“This is my son,” the man put a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s our first time playing Frisbee and I’m afraid we require much practice.”

“I didn’t mean to throw it so far,” the boy looked down at his shoes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hob said reassuringly. “My son hit me with a baseball once while we were playing. That’s just part of it.”

“Ooh! Can we play Frisbee with them, dad?” Robyn asked through a mouthful of chocolate ice cream. “We’ve never played that before.”

Hob looked at the man questioningly. Robyn had played with other kids at the park before, but none of them looked as shy as the boy did.

The man looked down at his son. “What do you say, dove? Would you like to play with them?”

The boy nodded with a small smile. “Yes. I would.”

“Yay!” Robyn cheered, raising his arms in the air.

“Hey, careful not to spill your ice cream,” Hob chided fondly.

“I’m Morpheus,” the man held out his hand. “This is my son Orpheus. And yes, I am aware of our awfully similar names,” he smiled.

Hob shook the man’s hand and returned the smile. “That just means it’ll be easier for me to remember. I’m Hob, and this is Robyn.”

“Robyn with a Y!” Robyn declared, already halfway through his ice cream cone. “I know a spot where we can have lots of room to play. Come on, before the other kids arrive!” He ran off towards a clearing in the park.

Orpheus looked up at his father questioningly, who smiled and nodded. Then the boy took off after Robyn.

“You’ve really never played Frisbee before with your son?” Morpheus asked as they followed their kids at a more leisurely place while keeping them in sight.

Hob shook his head. “Nope. We played catch and baseball, but we haven’t tried Frisbee yet. What games do you and Orpheus usually play?”

Morpheus fell silent for a moment, his long eyelashes catching the light of the sun as he blinked. “I have not had much opportunity to spend time with him. Until recently. All games are still new to us.”

Hob could sense that there was a story there, but he had no business prying so he just offered an encouraging smile. “Great, there’s a lot to discover. Let’s start with Frisbee.”

So they did; Hob and Robyn against Morpheus and Orpheus.

It seemed that Orpheus had already learned a great deal from his mistake earlier, as he was much better at it now and the disc rarely got too far away whenever it was his turn to throw.

Robyn was the better catcher. He had more than enough energy to dive and jump just to catch the disc, though he often got too excited whenever it was his turn to throw and his aim went wide.

Hob and Morpheus weren’t much good at either throwing or catching, but their children didn't mind and in fact even evidently enjoyed seeing their dads fumble.

Hob shared the biscuits and fruit juices that he packed, which kept up morale and started a conversation between Robyn and Orpheus about their favourite snacks.

Afterwards, Hob and Morpheus sat on a bench to catch their breaths while their children played with the others at the playground.

“I cannot remember the last time I ran around so much,” Morpheus said before taking a sip from a water bottle. “Children truly have an indefinite repository of energy.”

Hob chuckled, wiping sweat from his forehead with a hand towel that he always brought whenever going to the park. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m glad that those two are getting along well, though.”

Morpheus nodded. “Indeed. It is good to see Orpheus so cheerful.” A soft smile appeared on his face as he watched his son laugh brightly while on the seesaw with Robyn.

“He would remember this, you know,” Hob told him. “You brought him to this park. He would ask you again, and you’d have more time to spend together.”

“I certainly hope so. After the divorce, I got so caught up in my work that he often stayed with his mother. It’s only recently that I…” Morpheus trailed off, fidgeting with the bottle cap. “I apologise. I do not intend to spring this all upon you.”

“Nothing to apologise for,” Hob reassured him. “I’m divorced with Robyn’s mom too, and at first it was challenging to figure it all out. But you’ll get there.”

Morpheus looked at him, then at his backpack of provisions. “You seem to be rather well-adjusted now.”

Hob chuckled. “It just takes practice, my friend.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly to the side. “We are… friends?”

“Um…” Hob blinked. “Yeah, if you want to?”

“Dad!” Robyn came running towards them, towing Orpheus in hand. “Can I invite Orpheus to my birthday next week? I wanna show him my comics!”

Morpheus turned to Hob in surprise, looking just as uncertain as Hob felt when Robyn asked if they could all play Frisbee.

“Of course you can, duck,” Hob smiled at his son and Morpheus. “Orpheus can bring anything he wants to show you, too.”

“Father!” Orpheus’ face brightened as he seemed to realise something. “I wish to have Robyn listen to our song! He said they have a piano!”

“Oh I can’t play it,” Hob quickly said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s my mum’s. We have it in our house because she was a pianist, and she still likes to play whenever she visits.”

Morpheus’ expression was fond. “I play the piano as well. If you would allow it, I can play Orpheus’ song so he may have Robyn listen to it.”

“Sure, no problem!” Hob said perhaps a little too enthusiastically. He loved music, and shared Robyn’s excitement with making new friends. “Um, should we exchange numbers, then? I’ll text you the address.”

“Of course,” Morpheus smiled as he took out his phone. “It’s what friends do, is it not?”

—

Note:

Probably the most chill Dreamling fic I've written so far. They deserve to relax and have fun every once in a while~

Chapter title is from the musical "Sunday in the Park with George".

—

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

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cosmica-candy · 10 months ago

Note

Hi I absolutely adore electrolyte I would die for him. He should be friends with my xylitol nova kid mayhaps

Oh oh oh you like Electrolyte cookie? Here he is! And below the cut? Fan fic draft + more art 💙

Deep space, sugar star belt, 12:38 am, Xylitol time.

Xylitol Nova cookie was stepping down the hallways, a small note pad in his hand,

repare ward, check

Ship docks, check

Housing wing, check

Lounge wing, check

He sighed flipping through his notes

Check, check, check, check, double check

Then his eyes caught it, an in checked line

Children's and Infant hospital wing he smiled keenly to himself tucking it away in his breast pocket

"How have I missed that?" He sighed no matter, he quickly turned heel making a quick pace for the hospital again...

His heels clicked on the floor as the fellow cookies at bots stepped out of there leaders way, giving a buzz, salute or bow to him.

Walking to the reception window, he looked at his influx of happy and healthy new parents and families, a strange pull in heart loomed... He never had parents. Just a lab grown body designed to lead. It was him. Always him. History has his eyes on him.

"Xylitol Nova! Sir! What an pleasant surprise!" Cooed the charge nurse Orbit, her white hair pulled into a messy bun, once being prim and proper... "What brings you to our side of the hospital?"

"Ah...Yes I wanted to say hello to the new little ones...I"

"Wanted something to do sir?"

He chuckled putting up his hands "guilty has charged"

The two walked through the hallways the Florencent lights shining through the sanitary halls, Orbit and Nova stopped at a large window looking at the nursery... Many freshly baked and bundled babies laied in an organized comb, all of them with charts lovingly written on by adoring parents, all...

But one.

Xylitols brow cocked "Who's that little one? third row fourth on the left"

Nurse Orbit sighed "That would be little Electrolyte...No known father... Mother ....Just passed on..."

Xylitols flinched “so that's who that ping was earlier....“ He thought... "An orphan? What's to happen to him?"

"well, if no one is to claim him... He will be enrolled in the ranger program and become an asset to the planet..." Nurse orbit stated "its the best place for an orphan seeing how tight knit the rangers are... A found family would adore a little bundle of joy..."

"...And no ones been interested in him..?"

"Unfortunately...with his hair color and his eyes, No..."

Nova placed a hand on the glass staring in... "....May I hold him?" His voice dripped with sorrow, all the nurses froze there heads whipping to gaze at there dear leader...

Nurse Orbit nodded adjusting her glasses... "o-of course sir..right this way..."

Leading into the warm, sterile nursery, Novas heart pounded stepping closer and closer to the infant... His eyes were closed, his deep black hair was streaked with strands and baby blue, his deep olive skin were painted by two rosy blushed cheeks.

He squirmed a bit being scooped up by orbit, before being gently placed into novas arms... He held a child before...but this...was different.

He felt time slow down, the warmth of the little bundle in his arms, all he could tell was this little life in his strong arms, completely helpless...yet. alone.

Tears trickled down thed leaders face as he held the child, gently falling into the boys cheek, he stirred awake cooing softly... His eyes fluttered open revealing pools of baby blue, untouched by the pain and grief of the cosmos

He sniffled ”Hello little one..." Nova cooed gently bouncing the bundle in his arms, Electrolyte smiled up at him his tiny arm reaching up to him, his tiny hands grabbing up twords him, Nova A big intrigued brought his free hand to him... Electrolyte cooed

Wrapping around Xylitols finger.

Xylitol gasped softly his eyes welling with more tears than he had wept in the past century. He cuddled the boy lifting him up to his chest cooing down at him...

Nurse Orbit was equally as tearful, she held unto her badge smiling at her leader

"I'll take him" Nova whimpered holding his new son close to his chest.

#milkys art #cookie run #crob #cookie run ovenbreak #xylitol nova cookie #electrolyte cookie #cookie run oc #crob oc #crob fanart

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ghosttotheparty · 2 years ago

Note

hi for the writing prompt ask? could you do steddie + 3 or 97 you pick!

(love your writing sm 💕)

thank you sm!!! <3 i did both bc i have no self control

dialogue asks

3. “What the hell is that and why are you wearing it?” 97. “I definitely wasn’t hanging around here hoping to bump into you or anything...” (i changed this one a bit to fit the dialogue more)

Eddie heard a rumour.

Steve Harrington works at Starcourt.

Everybody thought he’d be off to college, Stanford or some other college too expensive for Eddie to even consider applying to. (Not that any of them could possibly accept him in the first place.)

It’s summertime. Gareth is in San Antonio visiting his grandparents, and Jeff is in Chicago visiting his dad, and Paul is in Michigan for some reason. (Eddie can’t remember.) And Eddie is beginning to go a little crazy stuck in his room with nothing to do (he supposes he could study his schoolwork from last year, but… Ew.), and the air conditioner in the trailer isn’t very good, and he thinks he might melt.

So he goes to Starcourt.

With no ulterior motives, obviously. It’s just hot. And Starcourt is nice and cool inside, and he doesn’t get bored at all, wandering and browsing, and definitely not scanning every store he passes looking for pretty brown hair.

He hasn’t seen Steve anywhere. Not that it matters, because he’s not there for him. Obviously. He’s there to look in the music store, at records that he can’t afford right now and posters he’s like to put on his ceiling. He’s there to sit by the fountain and listen to the water and people watch, and ignore the people that are eyeing him like he stole something. (Which he didn’t. Not today, at least.)

He lets his eyes wander as he sits by the fountain. The sound of it drowns out the noise of the people talking and laughing and shouting, the noise of rubber shoe soles squeaking on the brand new tile floor and the humming of the escalators and the buzzing of the lights. Some girls are finding their places sitting around the fountain, near him. They’re all licking ice cream cones.

“Hey,” Eddie says, leaning toward the girl sitting at the top. She seems to be the group leader.

“What?” she says bluntly, looking him up and down very obviously. He tries not to laugh.

“How much was that?” he asks, nodding toward her ice cream.

“A dollar twenty-five.”

“Oh.”

“But,” she adds, and her friends giggle. “Scoops company policy says you can have as many tastes as you want, so basically that’s unlimited ice cream.” She holds up a finger to make her point. “Loophole.”

He stares at her blankly for a moment before he snorts.

“You’re clever.”

“Yes, I am,” she says, a dismissal, and he turned away with a nod. He reaches into his pocket to find his change, counting the coins and thinking hard.

Fuck it.

“Watch my bag?” he asks the girl, and shrugs in a Sure, whatever gesture.

He hops up and heads toward Scoops, pausing to let some kids pass him before he freezes in the entrance of it.

Because holy fucking shit.

There he is.

Steve fucking Harrington, in all his glory, wearing a cute little sailor costume with a cap on his head. He’s talking to a red-headed girl, looking bored and fed up, and he has to know her, because there’s no way he can talk to a regular customer like that. She’s laughing when she walks away, running to catch up with her friends, and Steve’s eyes follow her, half-smiling and shaking his head fondly before his eyes meet Eddie’s.

His face turns pink, and Eddie grins as he crosses the shop, approaching him.

“Munson,” Steve greets. Eddie looks him up and down, peering over the counter to see his long legs, and the horrific shorts he’s wearing. Eddie loves it.

“What the hell is that,” he says slowly, looking back into his eyes, “why are you wearing it?”

“Work uniform,” Steve says uncomfortably, and Robin Buckley appears in the window behind him, wearing an identical cap on her head.

“Edward,” she says dryly.

“Unfair that Robin isn’t short for anything, Buckley.”

“Hah.” She looks at Steve, who’s moved so they can see each other, looking back and forth between them. “What, you’re not gonna do your spiel?”

“What spiel?” Eddie questions, his interest piqued as Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again.

“Nothing,” Steve says, looking sharply at Robin. “There’s no spiel.”

“There’s a spiel,” Robin tells Eddie.

“What’s the spiel?”

“The spiel is—”

“Stop saying spiel,” Steve says loudly, and Robin and Eddie burst into giggles.

“Do it,” Robin encourages. Steve glares at her then looks at Eddie, who raises his eyebrows expectantly, and he sighs heavily, giving in.

“Ahoy, Eddie!” he says loudly and flatly, imitating enthusiasm. Eddie’s eyes widen. “Didn’t see you there. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I’ll be your captain.”

There’s a short moment of silence before Eddie bursts into laughter, doubling over, and Steve sighs again.

“Incredible,” Eddie says when he can speak again, still giggling. “Amazing.”

“Alright. Are you here for ice cream or are you just gonna keep making fun of me?”

“This,” Eddie says, gesturing to Steve’s whole body (meaning the uniform, obviously), “is better than any ice cream.”

“Are you sure, ‘cause the USS Butterscotch is pretty fuckin’ good.”

“Oh, positive,” Eddie says, nods. “For sure. Better than any kind of chocolate fudge whatever.”

“Butterscotch isn’t chocolate.”

“I know what butterscotch is,” Eddie says defensively.

“I’m not sure you do.”

Eddie makes an indignant noise, but Robin interrupts.

“Alright, now you guys are just flirting.”

Steve whips around to look at her, and Eddie’s face flushes with heat as he glares at her, mouthing Shut the fuck up. She just grins.

“What do you want?” Steve asks when he turns back toward Eddie, his cheeks pink again.

“Uh. Guess I’ll try the butterscotch.”

“Good choice.”

Eddie watches him shamelessly just because he can, his eyes following him as he flips the ice cream scooper in his hand in way that’s unfairly cool, especially considering it’s an ice cream scooper, as he reaches into the tub of ice cream and scrapes at it. His sleeves are short enough that Eddie can watch his muscles flex and shift under his skin, and Eddie wishes the A/C was stronger in here.

“Dollar twenty-five,” Steve says, setting the cone on the counter, and Eddie holds out the coins, dropping them in Steve's hand. (He ignores the way his fingertips brush his palms.) Steve’s brows furrow as he counts them, and he pauses, counting again. “You’re a dime short, I think.”

“What?” Eddie leans over the counter to look at the change in his hand. “I thought I had a dollar twenty-five.”

Steve makes a face, shrugging and holding the coins out. Eddie’s missing a dime.

“Damn,” he says.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Steve says, closing his hand around the coins and sorting them in the cash register.

“Huh?”

“‘S fine,” Steve says lightly, smiling, and he reaches for the tip jar, looking in it and rummaging through it until he produces a dime.

“Hey,” Robin says loudly behind him. “Those are my tips too, dingus.”

“I’m the only one working right now,” Steve says, dropping the coin noisily into the cash register.

“We have one single customer, you ass.”

Eddie questions her emphasis on single, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks for coming,” he says brightly, smiling in a way that looks like it’s covering up a different smile, and Eddie takes his ice cream.

“Thanks, Harrington.”

He starts walking backwards out, watching as Steve pushes the cash register shut, his smile softening.

“We get off at five!” Robin calls loudly, and Steve turns around to her, hissing, “Shut the fuck up.”

Eddie winks at her.

“Aren’t they weird?” the girl asks when Eddie goes back to the fountain with his ice cream, and he cackles.

He sits and eats his ice cream as he people watches again, until he gets bored and pulls his book out of his bag.

“Oh, you’re a nerd,” the girl says, and he looks up at her.

“What’s wrong with nerds?” he asks, setting the book in his lap and eating the last of the styrofoam-y cone.

“They’re weird,” she says. Her friends giggle. “I know nerds. My brother’s a nerd.”

“Mhmm. Would I like him?”

“Probably. You know Dungeons and Dragons?”

Eddie grins at her.

“I’m a Dungeon Master.”

She looks him up and down again.

“Yeah, you’d like him.”

“Alright, well, nerd or not, The Princess Bride is a good book.”

“You’re reading about a princess?” one of the girls asks, and they all giggle as he puts on an offended expression.

“What, I don’t look like I read about princesses?”

They just giggle again.

They’re curious about the book, and why someone like him, as the leader so politely puts it, likes it so much, so he scoots closer and flips the book to the front page.

He puts on voices as he reads to them, acting the way he does during campaigns, theatrical and silly to make them giggle.

After a while the leader jumps up when a man calls Erica! loudly, and she waved him over. Eddie pauses, looking up.

“I told you girls to be at the entrance,” the man says, scolding them lightly.

“Sorry, Mr Sinclair,” one of the girls says. “We lost track of time.”

Mr Sinclair looks at Eddie sceptically.

“I’m showing them nerdy things aren’t all bad,” Eddie says, holding the book up, and Mr Sinclair just kind of scoffs.

“Alright, I like that you’re kind of reading,” he says to the girls, beckoning for them to get up, “but I need to get you all home, come on now.”

Eddie stands to help them up as a gentleman.

“Ladies,” he says lightly, waving goodbye as they leave, and they all wave back.

He keeps reading until the mall falls quieter, until he hears the sounds of metal being pulled down to block shop entrances, and he looks up when he hears Robin’s voice.

“—just saying I could have added a tally to the You Rule side, but you whiffed it— Oh, hey, Eddie!”

“Hey.”

“And I’m out of here,” she says brightly, moving to walk backwards toward the exit. “Night, fellas.”

“You don’t need a ride?” Steve asks.

“I biked here.”

“But—“

“It’s still light out, Steve, I got it,” she says, exasperated like it’s a daily conversation. “Don’t worry.”

“No detours,” he calls as she gets farther away.

“Do I like a detours kinda gal?”

“Yes,” Steve and Eddie says simultaneously, and she sticks her tongue out at them.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone, turning to look at Eddie, who quickly averts his eyes from the hem of his shorts. “What’re you still doing here?”

“Uh.” Eddie hesitates. Steve seems to know exactly why he’s still here, based on his grin. “Definitely not… waiting around hoping you’d show up. Or anything like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what’s the You Rule thing?” Eddie questions, ignoring the way his cheeks are flushed with heat.

“Uh. Kind of a long story,” Steve says, hesitating. “I can tell you over dinner.”

Eddie’s chest feels like it might explode.

“I would,” he says. “But I only had a dollar fifteen.”

Steve shrugs.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he says lightly. “‘S on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I’m gonna,” Steve says sassily, eyebrows raised. “You can’t stop me.”

“I could just… not go with you.”

“But you wanna come with me,” Steve says, grinning almost smugly. “Don’t you.”

It’s not a question, because he already knows. Eddie wonders if he’s see-through. If Steve can look at him and see right through his skin to the way his heart is beating faster just because Steve’s pretty eyes are on him.

“Dammit,” Eddie mutters, standing and snatching his bag. “Yeah.

Steve laughs, turning away.

“Come on.”

#this was so much fun #tysm #<3 #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #erica sinclair

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delphi-dreamin · 2 years ago

Text

The Butcher - Bonus Scene

A little insight into Delphi and Solomon's trip to the butcher's shop.

Characters: MC!Delphi, Solomon

Warning/disclaimer: I am very Southern, y'all. I grew up on stories of voodoo and witches and whatnot. It's just something that you learn in certain places. Hoodoo/voodoo/vodun as a spiritual practice is a mulitfaceted and beautiful religion, and it really deserves more respect than it's given. I don't talk about it in detail, but I do mention it here alongside a few practitioners of folk medicine. I'm not equating them in any way. Just noting that pockets of different practices exist in the region.

“Have her drink at least half a cup of this twice a day. A whole cup would be better, but it can be bitter, so I understand if she can’t get it all down. You can sweeten it with some of Prissy’s honey if you need. But a few days of drinking this tea and she should feel right as rain by the farmer’s market.”

Solomon watches as Delphi hands over the packet of tea to the butcher, placing it delicately in his large hand with a smile. He’d watched her muttering an incantation over the leaves as she scooped them into the small bag, then discreetly waving her left hand over the bag after she’d tied it closed. Of course, a normal human butcher wouldn’t notice. Her movements were expertly disguised. But Solomon noticed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses as they turn to go, relying on the bell above the door to conceal his words.

His apprentice rolls her eyes at him, whispering, “It’s just a simple healing spell. It’ll chip away at the flu over the next few days and she should feel better by Friday.”

“You can’t just do that,” Solomon scolds as they continue walking. “You can’t just give out healing magic to whoever you feel like, whenever you feel like!”

Delphi rounds on him, lips curled in a vicious snarl and her eyes sparking green. “You lost any right to tell me what I can and can’t do the minute you lied to me about why you were taking me back to the Devildom last time, Solomon. I am here to learn magic from you and nothing more. If you can’t teach me, then I’ll find someone else.”

Solomon can only bite his tongue. She’s right. He took her back under false pretenses and put her through absolute hell as a result. But just handing out magic with no regard for whose hands it could end up in? It could spell disaster.

He sighs, “Delphi, I don’t think you understand—”

“No, Solomon, I don’t think you understand,” his apprentice interrupts, her foot tapping. “We’re in the South. This is the land of Hoodoo, wise-women, and faith healers. If the local weird girl gives you some tea and tells you it’s gonna help your kid get over the flu, you’re gonna believe her to some extent. It’s ingrained in us. You’ll notice we didn’t pay for the chicken bones?”

Solomon’s eyes widen at the realization that, no, they actually hadn’t paid for the bones. He opens his mouth to ask about it, but Delphi holds up her hand to shush him.

“It was his way of paying me for the tea,” she explains. “I didn’t expect anything in return, but it’s a custom. Do you really not know how this works? You’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than me.”

“I don’t spend much time in the American South,” Solomon grits out from behind clenched teeth. “I cut you entirely too much slack as my apprentice, you know that, right?”

Delphi frowns, one unimpressed eyebrow raised. “No, I don’t know that, master. But I’m sure you’re going to explain it to me when we get back.”

Taglist: @sassykattery @leavesandflowers @sparkbeast20 @kyungjoon-do

#obey me #mc!delphi #obey me solomon #bonus content!#there may or may not end up being a follow up to this #idk #but two days in a row!#the muses must've spiked my tea

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angelofrainfrogs · 1 year ago

Text

Spend the Night: Ch. 21

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

My mind is searching for something that I call home

Cause my eye is blind to these endless floors But now I see that my time's all yours

~Take Me Far Away by DHeusta~

Charlie looked on, feeling the same sentiment as everyone else. As Gregory seemed unaware of his happy tears she wouldn’t mention them, but she did steal a swipe of the cake’s icing. Things were looking up for now.

Freddy had slipped into the only empty seat beside Charlie, his happiness at Gregory’s reaction turning to curiosity as he watched her eat a scoop of the sweet confection. When Michael did the same, he had to ask: “I am a bit confused… Your bodies are different than mine, but I thought you were still robots at your cores?”

“We are!” Michael replied, then licked the remnants of blue off his fingers while surreptitiously handing Gregory a napkin with his other hand. Whether the boy would use it to wipe off the food, his tears, or both was totally up to him. “At least, I think we are… For whatever reason, Henry designed these bodies with the ability to taste things, too. I’m not sure how exactly, but Charlie and I aren’t going to knock it!”

“Agreed!” the girl chimed in, savoring the sweet buttercream icing on her finger before grabbing herself a napkin. Across from her, Gregory took the paper from Michael to blow his nose in, having faced away from the group to be polite before stowing the napkin away in one of his pockets.

Gregory’s apatite for the cake didn’t stop him from wanting to be a part of the conversation as well. Looking to Charlie with a bright grin, he remarked: “I can’t wait to meet your dad!”

If the man was anything like his daughter, Gregory knew they’d be fast friends.

“He’s probably going to love you, honestly. He adopted like all my friends,” Charlie replied with a well-meaning roll of her eyes, thinking back on how every other day Henry asked if the kids could sleep over so her and Sammy wouldn’t be so bored and at the house alone during summer nights.

“It’s true,” Michael agreed, leaning back with arms crossed. He hooked one knee over the other, bouncing them slightly under the table. Could he get a sugar high from a few packets of granulated crystals and a scoop of sickly-sweet icing?

…Could he get a sugar high at all?

He had no idea, but this environment and these clothes were taking him back to his childhood—the good part, when he’d hang out at the diner with his best friend and siblings, daring each other to eat as much of whatever food they picked that day as they could. When it came to ice cream, things inevitably ended with Evan puking his serving back up—usually in the bushes just outside—and Elizabeth eating so much sugary goodness that she was bouncing off the walls long after her bedtime.

“I am excited to meet your dad as well,” Freddy chimed in, resting his arms on the table. Catching sight of the still-open gash, he quickly put his right arm back in his lap, though Michael saw it before he stowed the limb out of view. Ignoring the man’s narrowed eyes, Freddy added: “Henry sounds like a wonderful person.”

Charlie knew him and Freddy would get along. Hell, the character was based on her dad, even if just loosely. Henry used to reminisce fondly about how he and William came up with the characters.

“We were thinking up ideas in college—Uncle Will drew a bear for me, and I made him a rabbit. Just stuck around for so long, we made them into characters!”

It was so simple, and at the time, so wholesome... Charlie asked herself why William let it all end. Then, she asked herself why she even bothered remembering the fond things about him, after everything he’d done to those he supposedly loved.

She pushed it from her mind, attempting to be far away from even the good memories.

“You guys are similar like that,” she complimented Freddy, giving him kudos for everything he’d done for the three of them.

“Thank you, Charlie,” Freddy replied with a soft smile, understanding the intent behind her words. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a brief side hug, hoping she realized how much he cared for her, too.

“I can fix that arm up, you know—now that I’ve got two working hands,” Michael pointed out, nodding towards Freddy’s injured limb. He gave the bear a playful grin, eyes shining with mirth. “Unless you’d rather get another lecture from the dayshift techs again…”

“I would appreciate your assistance, Michael." Freddy chose to ignore the jibe, turning his attention to Gregory once more. Blue eyes widened as he realized the boy had somehow inhaled nearly a third of the cake while he was momentarily distracted. Freddy reached forward to pull it towards him and away from Gregory, gently chiding. “Alright, superstar, that is enough for now—we can save the rest for later!”

Gregory reached for a scoop the moment Freddy pulled it away, looking surprised that he would dare try such a thing. The feral boy had a smattering of Neapolitan ice cream stuck in the corners of his mouth, and stains of blue that clung to his lips. Before he could protest, Charlie leaned from Freddy’s affectionate grasp to lick her thumb and begin wiping his mouth with the clean spots of her napkin.

“No! Yuck!” Gregory finally voiced as Charlie swiped her wet thumb over his cheek. She gave a meaningless eye roll, holding Gregory gently in place as she cleaned his face.

“You’re messy! Don’t be a baby,” she snipped before the job was finished. After letting Gregory go, Charlie leaned back again on Freddy’s shoulder, watching in amusement as the kid rubbed his palms in a flustered way over his face.

“Still!” Gregory grunted, falling back into the booth before looking to Michael. The man’s promise from yesterday rang through Gregory’s mind. “Are you going to show me how to fix Freddy’s arm?”

“Of course!” Michael heartily agreed. “I said I’d turn you into a mini-mechanic, didn’t I?” He slipped out of the booth and patted Freddy amiably on the shoulder. “Come on—let’s get you patched up.”

“You seem quite excited for this,” Freddy pointed out with a laugh, standing when Michael moved out of the way.

“Is it obvious?” Michael joked, helping Charlie detach herself from the sticky vinyl and pulling her to her feet. “I’m super interested to see what makes you Glamrocks tick!”

Gregory had almost felt silly for even asking. With the intensity that Mike answered him, it was clear he intended to keep his word. It was only because Gregory had been let down so much before that he expected to show up and then not be allowed to participate. Of course, he trusted Michael to be better than the previous adults in his life. Though force of habit to remind people that he existed had become habitual.

“If you're doing maintenance work on an animatronic, but you also happen to be a cyborg... Are you a mechanic or a doctor?” Charlie wondered aloud as the gang began their trek back to Parts & Service.

It had Gregory answering in no time flat, replying with a laugh “Oh! A doctor—easy.”

“...I guess I'm a doctor now, then,” Michael concurred, nodding in acceptance. He walked with his hands in his pockets, still keeping watch but much more at ease now that he knew the Glamrocks wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon. Although, he couldn't help peering with narrowed eyes into every vent they came across that might be big enough to fit a certain robotic amalgamation...

He was grateful to Ennard for the save, but that didn't mean he suddenly liked the thing now.

“It should not be a difficult repair,” Freddy commented, glancing down at his arm and analyzing the damage a little more closely. He was holding onto Gregory's hand with his non-injured paw, letting the boy drift at his side at an easy pace. The fact that the others were much calmer than before helped Freddy relax as well, still the most high-alert out of all of them. “I think it is mostly severed wires that can be soldered back together and then replacing the outer casing, which we have plenty of spares for.”

Tonight was no longer a mad dash for survival. It seemed that for now they would avoid the wrath of Michael's father.

For how long exactly? It was hard to say. The man had invented the original robotic mascots so surely he’d be capable of fixing himself in no time flat, even in a shiny new model.

Despite his happiness at the sugary pit stop, for Gregory there was no true peace in the quiet night. Where there was a pleasant silence, he knew William lurked just outside their field of vision. Still, he asked himself why he was paranoid when there were many things inside the Pizzaplex that wished to help them.

But then he looked to that healing cut on Michael's lip. He stared past the hole in Freddy's arm and felt the tightness of skin healing on his own back. Physical reminders that every moment William was alive, there was a chance that Gregory could die.

Before he knew it, they were almost to the Parts & Service when Charlie decided to ask him a question.

“Huh?” Gregory said, rubbing his eyes to feign tiredness. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

Charlie gave him a strange look, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. She decided not to draw attention to it. “Oh, you looked nauseous to me. I thought you might’ve eaten too much cake.”

The sentence was punctuated with Charlie’s easygoing laugh—a laugh Gregory always found so infectious.

Glancing down at his son, Freddy could clearly see his growing distress. At what specifically he wasn't sure, but he squeezed Gregory's hand in silent reassurance. A few seconds later the squeeze was returned along with the tiniest smile, and Freddy chose not to press the issue. It was also at this time that the group were exiting Roxy's service elevator and making the familiar trek towards the protective cylinder. Upon reaching the main room, Freddy released Gregory's hand so he could settle himself in the chair as Michael rummaged around in a box of parts until he found an extra outer shell casing for the bear's forearm.

“Alright, everybody pile in,” Mike instructed, pointing to the cylinder as he moved to the old-fashioned computer. After activating the timed safety seal, he slipped inside right behind Gregory and Charlie, then went to work strapping Freddy's arms down as door sealed shut. Once everything was secured, Michael hoisted Gregory up to sit on Freddy's lap so he could watch the seasoned mechanic work.

Charlie observed Mike shut down power to the arm as she leaned against the wall of the cylinder. She could see growing interest on Gregory's face, and was happy he’d been distracted enough from his own thoughts. The kid made sure to ask plenty of relevant questions to what Michael was doing, even addressing some to the bear.

“Could you feel this even if the power was on in your wrist? Or do you just get an error message if you get hurt?” Gregory wanted to know. It didn't hurt to understand the intricacies of how your robotic family member ticked, anyway.

Charlie had been curious too, seeing how she was yet to feel pain. Suddenly, she glanced away quickly from the group, attention pulled to Roxy’s elevator hallway as the automatic doors closed again. However, by the time she glanced over there hadn't even been a shadow. Squinting into the dark, Charlie crept along the wall of the cylinder and attempted to get a closer view.

“I do not have pain receptors, so put your mind at ease,” Freddy replied to Gregory, doing his best to smile down at him over Michael's shaggy hair falling directly in his sightline. “But yes, I could feel that something was amiss and I received an error message that there was a structural issue in my arm. I would have received a much more pressing alert if the injury was more severe, though—”

“Awwww! Family bonding time in the workshop, hmm~? How sweet!”

The syrupy coo broke Michael's concentration, and he hissed instinctively as his grip on the miniature soldering torch slipped and caught the tip of his finger. He quickly turned off the flame, thankful for the dozenth time that he didn't seem to have pain receptors either, and quickly turned his head towards the sound.

“Look at you two!” Vanny called from a corner of the room, her patchwork suit half-obscured by shadow. Notably, her injured arm was still cradled in its sling—if there'd been any lingering doubt that Vanessa and Vanny were one and the same, it had now been crushed to pieces. The woman pressed her good paw against the side of her rabbit mask with a gasp. “How in the world did you find bodies all on your own?!”

Of course. Nothing good lasts forever.

Gregory had jumped off of Freddy's lap at the voice, a pointed glare shot at the glass as if his first reaction was to fight the sound.

Already pressed to the window, Charlie startled when Vanny popped up. Of course she wanted to know where these bodies came from. Telling her the truth was out of the question. Charlie touched her collarbone, quickly recovering from the scare. “Hmm, I can't recall. Can you, Michael?”

Gregory stormed up to the glass beside Charlie, fists clenched. He was fuming—mad that once again, a calm moment was ruined for him. These stupid rabbits would never let him relax.

“Go away, Vanny. No bunnies allowed,” he griped, half tempted to blind her with the bright beam of his flashlight. Gregory shoved a hand inside his cargo shorts, grasping the item in question ready to quick draw it on Vanny at the opportune moment.

“So rude! Your dad wouldn't be happy hearing you talk to his dear friend like that!” Vanny chided, wiggling a finger at Gregory. Her chest was puffed up slightly, still convinced that William cared for her like one of his own.

Well, of course he did—why else would he keep her around?

“Go. Away.” Michael echoed Gregory's sentiment in a much harsher tone, angling his body fully to face the rabbit. Freddy could only turn his head to watch, still strapped to the table with one arm powered down. Vanny sighed heavily, shaking her head so her ears flopped every which way.

“Michael, Michael... I just came to say hi! Your dad wanted me to check in on you since your last visit was cut short—he was really looking forward to talking with you and Evan, y'know!” There was an obvious pout in her voice, combined with a hint of disappointment that Mike had a feeling wasn't actually from Vanny herself.

“Well you can tell my father that I still hate his guts, and we don't need to be 'checked on,'” he responded through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I know—you're a big boy now, aren't you?” Vanny giggled, the sound unhinged and disconcerting. “He just worries so much... you're still his sweet kids, after all!”

That made Charlie let out a barking laugh.

“That's rich! If Will cared about us, he wouldn't be doing any of this! He strangled me in an alley! He never gave a shit about us!” She protested the very notion, though she was speaking more directly to the man that controlled Vanessa then the guard herself.

Incensed, Charlie bent to pick Gregory up. Even if they were in a safety cylinder, she wanted to hold onto him to make the equally angry child feel safer. The more she thought about how William used her father—her whole family—the more Charlie wanted to get her revenge as soon as possible. They’d trusted William Afton, and he spurned that trust in one rainy night. Vanny's delusions only served to infuriate as her positive, rose-tinted view of Will only reminded Charlie of the downfall of the Emily family.

“What does he want with me, anyway?” Gregory felt the need to ask. He wasn't sure why Vanny was here.

Oh god, Gregory began to second guess. What if she’s bidding William time before the even more psycho rabbit does something unspeakable?

Gregory clung to Charlie, feeling more helpless as he realized that although they were safe, they were also trapped.

Freddy's eyes had widened at Charlie's admission of her death. He knew that William was the one responsible, but she'd never shared how it happened... Unfortunately, there wasn't time to dwell over how cold and heartless Charlie's unnecessary demise was. Gregory had asked a question that everyone was also very curious to know the answer to.

Vanny tilted her head, as if confused by Gregory's ask. It was quite obvious, she thought—maybe the poor kid had amnesia and didn't remember who he was anymore? To be fair, she hadn't realized that he was Evan at first either, so maybe all of their minds were being messed with.

She giggled at the thought, then answered: “Well, you're his youngest, of course—he just wants to make sure you're safe and sound, and won't have to worry about anything pesky like dying again!”

“Tell that fucking asshole to stay away from him!” Michael snapped, smacking a hand on the glass aggressively. The sparking, purple Remnant in that sharp needle was still fresh in his memory.

Vanny didn't even flinch at the loud bang, simply letting out another sigh.

“Your father said you had bad mood swings, Mikey... he hoped you grew out of them, but I suppose that isn't the case.” She shrugged. “Oh well—at least I can tell him the great news about your new bodies! He'll be so happy!”

Fuck, Charlie thought, her grasp around Gregory tightening. She might not really be protecting him from anything, but she could at least make him feel safer.

“Like hell we’re going to let you near him!” she threatened. The first image that wracked her brain was William trying to kill all of them. Then experiment on the—

Gregory hugged his friend, feeling her relax again as she glanced away from Vanny. In turn she tried to ignore the meddlesome bunny, and advised for Gregory to do likewise.

“Don’t pay her any mind. You’re going to be fine.” Charlie’s reminder was for everyone in the cylinder. Gregory was going to be fine, and so were they.

Vanny barely seemed to register Charlie when she spoke to her. If William didn't care to pay the vengeful spirit any mind, then Vanny couldn't be bothered to either. Her focus was solely on the Afton boys, and she watched Michael step closer to his brother as if to protect him.

“Aww, it’s so sweet to see you two getting along after everything!” Vanny cooed, pressing her good paw over her heart. A giggle escaped the rabbit mask as Michael visibly tensed, fists clenching at his sides. “Oh come on, Michael—it’s not like that was a secret... It might be old news, but there’s still tons of public records about what you did at that biiiiirthday partyyyyyy~”

“Shut up…,” Michael whispered, his voice barely audible. Vanny leaned towards the window, mockingly cupping her paw behind the patchwork bunny ear.

“Hmm? What was that, Mike—”

“I said SHUT UP!”

The lack of pain sensors made Michael unable to realize he’d balled up his fists so hard they were cutting into his palms, small rivulets of blood trailing down his hands from the sharpest points. He stared Vanny down with a vision that was quickly turning red. His mind was slipping back to a time when he wasn’t so much younger than this body—when he’d decided to play a cruel prank that had gone horribly, horribly wrong…

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael hissed through clenched teeth, watching as the rabbit shifted between white, gold, and purple before his eyes. “And you don’t deserve to even think about my brother, so shut your fucking mouth!”

Sensing she’d gone a bit too far in her taunting, Vanny decided it best to leave and started backing away. “Oops~ I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome! I'll see you all again soon; byeeee~”

She giggled again, then with a wave skipped off to some unknown part of the Pizzaplex and out of view.

“Michael, wait!” Freddy exclaimed, still strapped down but managing to catch the man’s hand with the tip of his claw as Mike began stalking after her. The man wrenched his hand away as if Freddy’s touch burned, staring down at the animatronic with a look of unquantifiable anguish.

No longer was this Glamrock Freddy—the bear’s orange, red, and blue motif had faded into rotten gold, chest soaked to the endoskeleton with dark red that would never come out, no matter how hard Michael scrubbed. A broken, choked-off sob escaped his lips as the memories of that horrible day flashed across his vision, senses amped up to the extreme thanks to this new vessel. Cupping his face in his hands, Michael sunk down against the glass window as, in vivid detail, he remembered everything.

Charlie felt cold, watching how Michael crumbled. She remembered that day, and the stressful months afterwards. She'd never seen the Aftons with such high tensions. Charlie recalled finding Elizabeth pounding against her older brother's chest with her tiny fists in the backrooms.

Charlie wasn’t even inside at the time it happened. She’d walked in from the back entrance with Evan's gift, immediately noting the spray of red on Michael’s shocked and pallid face with Lizzie screaming at the top of her lungs.

“HE DIDN'T EVEN WANT THIS PARTY! YOU AND DAD MADE HIM GO!”

The fight the three of them had... Charlie choked, cursing the tears in her eyes. When she was sad as Puppet, her vision was never impaired by realism. The wet sensation grounded her, pulling her back to the now.

“Michael—” Charlie prompted, setting Gregory on his feet as she crouched to her old friend’s side. Her hand ghosted over his shoulder, afraid to touch in his tightly-wound emotion.

To Gregory, watching Michael break down was heartbreaking—far too much for him to just stand aside. Mike had always been there for him, but Gregory didn't even know where to begin with helping him out. He began associating rabbits with cruelty this weekend, and witnessing one break the man with a few sentences was the solidifying factor.

“—Fucking bunnies,” Gregory muttered under his breath before moving besides Michael to comfort him. He had no clue what upset him so badly; he just knew he didn't want anyone he cared about to be this heartbroken over what Gregory only assumed to be a mistake...

Michael stayed curled into himself for a while, not registering the others' presences as his mind raced through all the screaming... the sinking, gut-wrenching drop in the pit of his very soul as he realized what his stupid “prank” had done... the blood—there was so much blood...

Blood that was on his hands, literally and figuratively.

When Michael finally took in a deep, shuddering breath and pulled himself back to reality, the feeling of sticky, synthetic red coating his face and hands from where he'd cut his palms nearly made him lose it all over again. He forced himself to look anywhere else, taking in his surroundings.

Freddy was in the maintenance chair—the good Freddy, this one had nothing to do with the past, and probably couldn't even fit a child's head in his mouth with this current design. Charlie stood by Michael's side, her hand hovering over him for comfort but clearly still afraid to touch so as not to shatter his fragile psyche all over again.

And then there was Gregory, staring up at him with terrified eyes.

But he wasn't terrified of Michael—he was terrified for him.

“O-Oh god...,” Mike breathed, pulling Gregory in for a tight hug and hoping the boy would forgive him for ruining yet another shirt. He held Gregory with trembling arms, feeling the boy's heartbeat as they pressed close together. He knew the answer, but he still had to ask in a small, stuttering voice: “Gregory... y-you're alive, right? P-Please... tell me you're alive...?”

Gregory squeezed back. He'd tried to emulate the things the others did for him whenever he was scared beyond belief. He rubbed Mike's shoulder, only stuttering in his movements when Michael asked him that question.

“I'm alive... Of course I'm alive.” He had to be. Gregory certainly didn't remember dying. There was no way.

And even if somehow had slipped past the veil of the mortal realm, Gregory was certain he’d lie just to keep this guy's heart from breaking even further. Where he should have felt a reasonable amount of fear in regards to Michael, Gregory could only sympathize.

Besides Michael, a form slid against his shoulder. Charlie found it hard to intervene, her heart still broken from the cruel reminder of the past. Michael's mistake being thrown in his face like that reminding Charlie how she had treated him that night.

Her first reaction had been a simple question:

Why?

When he didn't answer right away, stunned by grief and terror, she’d pushed him and asked Michael why he couldn't just have left his brother alone for one minute!

Charlie wished that anger wasn't her first response that day. The regret still weighed heavy on her mind.

Michael simply nodded in response to Gregory, leaning his head on Charlie's shoulder as he held on for just a little longer. Gregory was still alive, and Michael was going to keep it that way. He wasn't going to let his new brother's fate be the same as his other siblings'.

After a minute, Mike slowly pulled back to look around the room again, gasping when a blue-clawed paw caught his attention.

“Oh shit—Freddy!” he exclaimed, gently dislodging himself from the others to move to Freddy's side. The poor bear had been immobile this whole time, forced to listen to Vanny's taunting and Michael's subsequent breakdown without the chance to help. Mike wiped his face and hands off on a nearby rag and got to work finishing the last repairs. “Sorry; I didn't mean to leave you stuck...”

“It is alright—you were acting in everyone's best interest, and I cannot fault you for that,” Freddy replied, watching the man carefully. He was never going to forget the look Michael gave him, like together the pair had done something bad. Hesitantly, Freddy began: “Michael, are you—?”

“We can talk later, when we're back in the security office,” Mike cut him off with sharp headshake. He clenched his jaw tight, focused on repairing the animatronic's arm. If he couldn't make himself whole again, at least he could do so for Freddy. “Just... let me work for a minute, okay?”

“Do it; it’ll make him feel better,” Charlie assured, rounding about the chair to come by and pet the top of the bear’s head. She carefully maneuvered around his little top hat and focused by his ears as if it soothed him.

Meanwhile, Gregory had taken to watching the glass for signs of Vanny. The next time he saw her, it would be a matter of attacking on sight. He wouldn’t leave any room for the bunnies to torture them mentally or physically any longer.

As the simple soldering job finished, Charlie helped Michael in releasing the restraints from Freddy’s limbs.

“There you go; good as new,” Michael said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, helping the bear sit up.

“Thank you,” Freddy replied, turning his arm over to examine Michael’s handiwork. He met the man’s smile with a grin of his own, which seemed to brighten Mike’s expression in turn. Michael had come to find mechanical work relaxing in a weird way, but he didn’t usually get thanked by the animatronics he fixed up. It was certainly appreciated, though.

“Alright, back to the office until dayshift?” he suggested, hoping the others agreed. He wasn’t sure if these bodies needed to sleep, but damn was he tired.

At Freddy and Charlie’s agreeing nods, Michael moved to Gregory’s side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking through the window as well. In his best pirate impression, he asked the boy: “Arr, any sign of danger on the horizon, cap’n?”

Gregory was scared of going out there. In the minimal chance that Vanny was waiting around the corner, Gregory would say to proceed with caution.

“Aye—” He’d tell Michael, following his lead with the over the top accent. “—may be rocky seas ahead. We’ll need lifelines.”

Not too discreetly, Gregory slipped his hand into Michael’s. Pretending did take the weight of what just happened off of his mind. Under his youthful eyes, there were dark spots forming from the stress and lack of sleep. He kept himself awake with caffeine and sugar far too many times and now he had the telltale signs of restlessness.

“You guys heard the doctor-pirate,” Charlie chimed in, attempting to keep the mood light until they got back. “Let’s mosey.”

Once everyone shuffled out of the cylinder and there was actually space to move, Freddy grasped Gregory’s free hand and gave the boy a soft smile. He then took Charlie’s as well, creating a chain with her and Michael on either end.

In response to the questioning gazes, Freddy simply responded: “We all need lifelines, do we not?”

Michael simply chuckled in response, taking the lead in walking them back to the elevator. They did a pretty good job of holding onto each other despite the sometimes awkward positioning, only letting go once the security doors were locked down tight in the office. Freddy immediately grabbed the charging cord and plugged himself into the outlet, settling in his usual chair while his battery replenished. Michael rolled a chair next to the bear, idly spinning around once before finally settling with hands resting in his lap. It was a small gesture that put an equally tiny smile on his face, but it was just what Mike needed to release more of the tension threatening to make his anxiety go wild for the billionth time that evening.

Gregory would have curled up on Freddy like the other night, only now he couldn't sleep knowing he was just going to get nightmares. He watched Freddy plug himself in, and Michael did his spin in one of the many chairs. Gregory could try to pretend it was okay for everyone else's sake, but he felt tense and nervous. He wouldn't be able to relax if he didn't know the reason for Michael's reaction.

What could he have done that newspapers talked about?

As he watched Charlie, who seemed quiet and reflective sitting in the corner, he thought about asking her… Then quickly decided against it. It wouldn't really be right to talk about what seemed so personal to Michael with someone else, especially when Charlie still looked upset from the encounter as well. He knew her well enough now to understand it took her a lot to talk about things.

The fact she even mentioned what William did to her—

Gregory shook that thought from his mind, approaching Michael.

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding onto the office chair and stilling Mike in place. Gregory, above all else, wanted to make sure he'd be fine.

Freddy perked up as Gregory posed his question, watching Michael’s expressive face go through various levels of guilt, anger, and anxiety in a matter of seconds. Eventually, Mike heaved a large sigh and hung his head, looking down at his lap.

“As much as I want to say ‘yes,’ you don’t deserve to be lied to,” he replied somberly. He lifted his eyes to meet Gregory’s, trying a sad smile that just turned into a grimace. “Something happened when I was a kid, and… well, I guess I was more of a teenager, but I did something—bad, and sometimes all the details come back at once and I just sort of… freeze up because it’s too much.”

He was starting to ramble, the admission of his biggest regret still hard to contextualize into words even after all this time. He also needed to be careful when explaining this to Gregory and Freddy. It would certainly be better for Michael to tell them what happened instead of letting them find out from a random news article, but… how do you explain to your new family that you were directly responsible for the death of your sibling?

Charlie looked up, not expecting Michael to say anything to Gregory. She managed to speak up for him as a way of encouragement.

“Sometimes good people make mistakes,” she said as a reminder to both of them.

Gregory could understand the implications of what Michael had done as a teenager. More specifically, from what Vanny alluded it was his own brother he harmed. All he knew for sure was that it had, for one hellish time, captured the grotesque attention of the entire town.

“Michael,” Gregory said, finding it hard to speak about his emotions for a moment. Eventually, he settled on a few poignant words. “It doesn't matter what you did back then. That was like a billion years ago, and you... you've shown me you're a good person. You're my brother.”

Saying it out in the open for everyone to hear, Gregory made it known that he thought of everyone in this room as his family.

For a moment, Michael could only stare at Gregory with an expression of shocked confusion. He knew the boy cared about him—at least, he hoped he did after everything they’d been though—but he never imagined Gregory would care to the same extent he did… Not enough to call Michael that.

Hot tear streaks burned Michael’s cheeks as emotions flowed freely. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried… He’d been numb for so long that nothing could get to him enough to prompt such a reaction.

Nothing except his family, that is—but wasn’t that always the case?

“T-Thanks, Gregory,” Michael stuttered out, leaning forward to wrap his arms around the boy’s shoulders. It wasn’t the tightest hug, giving Gregory the choice to reciprocate or break free if he wished. Michael still didn’t feel like he deserved to be considered Gregory’s brother—but that was an issue he needed to work through on his own. Now that he’d officially been given the title, he sure as hell was going to live up to it and be the best damn big brother he could possibly be.

“It… means a lot to hear you say that,” Michael added softly, and there was a definite smile in his voice now. “You… you’re my brother, too. Don’t ever forget it.”

With the go-ahead to hug him, Gregory jumped at the opportunity to wrap his arms around Michael's shoulders. The reassurance that Gregory knew he was a good person relieved a bit of the tension.

“This was a rough night—” Charlie remarked, sighing heavily. “—we should rest up. You're both looking tired.”

She was one to talk. Charlie felt like falling over and looked like she was about to as well. Were she not already flush to the ground, she might have. With no internal messaging errors, Charlie felt like the only solution was to just lay down and shut her eyes.

“Speak for yourself,” Michael muttered as he took stock of Charlie folded onto the ground, the joking tone in his voice indicating that he was slowly returning to his usual self.

“I think it is best if you all rest,” Freddy chimed in gently, looking over the exhausted trio. Charlie and Michael might be made of metal and wires, but on the outside they looked like young adults who'd just been through a second night of hell.

“What time is it?” Michael asked as he and Gregory finally broke their hug, running an absent hand through the boy's hair when Gregory leaned heavily against his leg. It was clear that the caffeine and sugar crash was starting to hit the kid hard.

“It is almost 5 am,” Freddy replied, then unplugged the charging cord and stood up. Ever their stalwart protector, he hoisted Gregory into his arms and urged the others to stand as well. “Come on; I do not want you to fall asleep here only for me to have to wake you up in an hour. Let us return to my room and you can all rest. I will keep watch and make sure you are safe.”

Gregory had rag-dolled in Freddy's arms. No thoughts sat behind the kid's eyes as he felt completely safe when scooped into a hold like that. It was clear from the way he batted his eyes open that he was currently fighting the sleep.

He did not want to go to sleep. He dreaded something happening while he was unconscious and unable to fight.

Even Charlie was having a hard time finding the motivation to stand. She ended up using help from Michael's had to gather herself from the ground. She affectionately squeezed an arm around his back, giving him a brief and tired side-hug.

As soon as they dragged themselves to Rockstar Row, Gregory was out like a light. With his hands peacefully resting over his chest, he drooled as he finally surrendered to sleep. With no more worries for the night, they crept into Freddy's room.

Freddy set Gregory on the couch and pulled a blanket over him. When he seemed to frown from the loss of contact, the bear slipped his Freddy plushie into his arms, which Gregory immediately clung to as his expression smoothed into peaceful sleep. After a bit of prompting, Freddy was able to get Michael and Charlie to lay down right in front of the couch, moving the star table with its pizza and Fizzy Faz trash out of the way so the trio could sleep as close to each other as possible. Once Charlie and Mike were settled with their own blankets and pillows, they drifted into “rest mode” in less than a minute.

In their sleep, the trio looked more peaceful than they ever had. Freddy pressed a hand to his mechanical heart as he gazed down at them, feeling a sudden swell of what could only be described as violent affection—he realized with a mild shock that Gregory wasn't his only child anymore.

In the span of 48 hours, Freddy had somehow ended up with three to care for... and regardless of how Charlie and Michael felt about his paternal status, he vowed to protect them to the end of time.

******

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf au #charlie emily #marionette fnaf #puppet fnaf #michael afton #glamrock freddy #gregory #fnaf vanny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #angelofrainfrogs #zeitghest #spend the night #the wires that bind us au

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musekicker · 2 years ago

Text

Random Sing drabble with a bunch of ocs. Bryce is my oc, and June and Marcy belong to @halloweennut

The small park was right next to a corner store. A great place to get snacks and slushies after playing at the park. The snacks and slushies was honestly Bryce's favorite part of park outings beside making some sketches in his sketch book.

Bryce was showing Buster one of his new sketches over at one of the park tables when June realized that Marcy was not at her side. She was not at all far of course. Right by the parks water fountain. June saw her and called out for Marcy to come back.

At the sound of her mother calling for her she came running back to her parents side. As she got closer it was clear that the child's overalls pockets were full and were making a jingling noise.

With the evidence of wet paw prints leading from the fountain and the jingling noise still present, June took a good guess at what was in Marcy's pockets.

"Marcy... where did you get all these coins?" June asked.

She had a feeling she already knew the answer to this question. But still, she must ask.

Marcy grinned big as she reached into her pockets and took out a handful of still damp coins.

"People just throw coins into the water. So I just took them out and put them in my pockets!" Marcy said.

"I see..." June said.

"And now I can get all the gum balls in the gum ball machine now!" Marcy proclaimed.

"Did I hear mention of gumballs?" Bryce asked.

Buster had just came back to the rest of his his family with the Bryce at his side. Naturally Bryce's ears pricked up at the mention of treats. Buster was more concerned by the change in Marcy's hands.

"Where did she-" Buster said.

"The fountain." June explained.

"Oh." Buster said.

June noted the lack of worry on Buster's face.

"You don't seem to be as worried about this as I am." June said.

"Well... there is a small reason for that." Buster said.

June sighed.

"Buster Moon, what did you do?" June asked.

"I might be guilty of diving for coins in the fountain before." Buster admitted.

"Buster!" June cried.

"Look, I know that wasn't a... great thing, to do. But it was during a time where the theater was in trouble and sometimes every cent counted. I had paid for lunches before with fresh from the fountain coins." Buster said.

June's expression got a bit softer at that.

"I can understand that. Sometimes you do what you have to. Thankfully though, we don't need to do that." June said.

Buster nodded.

"Oh of course. We're not letting Marcy use that change." Buster said.

Marcy did not get the message that she was not to use the money she had taken from the water fountain. She and Bryce were already gone when their parents turned to speak to them. There was no guessing where the kids were. They knew they were at the gumball machine outside the corner store.

They hurried in that direction and yes, as expected, Bryce and Marcy were at the gumball machine and it was too late to stop the dispensing of the gumballs. The kids noticed their parents approach.

"Hi mom, hi dad. Look at all the gumballs we got!" Marcy said.

Buster sighed.

"We were going to say something about not using the change." Buster said.

"Bryce, you knew better." June added in.

Bryce's ears went down just a bit.

"I'm sorry. I heard gumballs and my common sense just was gone." Bryce said.

Marcy meanwhile did not show any sign of being sorry, scooping up more of the gumballs.

"Now I have a lifetimes supply of gumballs!" Marcy proclaimed, the pockets that once held coins now full of gumballs.

There was no putting back the gumballs so the kids did end up keeping them. And a life time supply turned out to be a month worth in all truth.

#sing movie #other people's ocs

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messers-moony · 3 years ago

Text

Hope | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader

Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.

A part of growing up means maturing. Maturing means realizing that the world is cruel and unfair. People die every day without a reason or a why. Children are born into this world every day with love or hatred. Growing up, parents tell their kids, “Life isn’t fair”. No one had experience unfairness like Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin.

He was right there. So close, only a few feet from her arms yet so far apart in that wretched woman’s arms who held him like he was the grossest thing she’s ever touched. Those enchanting green eyes that glistened with trauma and pain. The brown hair that started to sprout from his scalp, already messy and untidy.

“No! This isn’t fair!” Y/n wailed as Remus held her tight to his chest, “I’m his biological aunt! Please!”

The Minister of Magic was merciless, “And so is Mrs.Dursley.”

“She’s a muggle! Harry is bound to be a wizard!” Y/n cried in contradiction; the feeling to vomit became relentless, “They’ll torture him. Please, you have to let me have him.”

“With your current living situation, it isn’t safe, Mrs.Lupin.”

Remus grimaced at those words, “My current living situation? Are you daft!?”

“With Mr.Lupins…” The Minister pondered, “condition, it isn’t safe for him.”

“Remus wouldn’t hurt him.” Y/n sobbed quietly, “He’s never hurt me!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Lupin, but Harry Potter is the safest with Mrs. and Mr. Dursley.”

The gavel was hit upon another circle of wood, adjourning the meeting as a finality. This was it. The fight was over. Harry Potter would grow up in an unloving household that wouldn’t be capable of understanding his magic. This was the epitome of unfairness. Remus’ hands were on her waist, her back to his chest while she sobbed, trying to get him to release her.

Eventually, she collapsed to a heap on the floor. Petunia and Vernon, each holding a baby watching the couple. Harry was wailing loudly, and Petunia couldn’t get him to settle down, making Y/n only cry harder. The young boy had just begun babbling nonsense due to Sirius’ hard effort to get him to say “Padfoot”. But it was that day he said his first word.

“Moo-me!” Harry yelped, and Remus could’ve sworn his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, “Moo-me!”

The brunet boy was trying to reach for Remus, and he squirmed for the adult male, but Petunia had a tight grip. Y/n could barely hear the little boy's words over her own sobs. Her body ached and shook with every tear that fell. The silver streams stained her cheeks, and her face was a brilliant rose red.

“Please make it stop….” Y/n muttered as Remus covered her from the other four people in the room, “If he says that one more time, I might not be able to handle it. Remus, help me, please.”

Hearing her so desperate broke his heart more. Remus’ body covered hers entirely in their crouched position. Harry was practically attacking Petunia to let him go, to be in the arms that are familiar to him. He didn’t like this. He didn’t know these people. These people weren’t his parents. Where was daddy? Where was mummy? Where was uncle Sirius and Peter?

What he did know was his aunt and uncle were right in front of him. Uncle Moony and Aunt Y/n. He could feel his aunt's sadness, her frustration, her anger. He could sense his uncle's remorse, desperation, and hopelessness. Why were they feeling this way? Why weren’t they protecting him? Harry so desperately wished he could speak and say, “Help! Save me from these strangers!” But all he could get out was “Moo-mee and Tee” for Moony and Auntie.

Petunia couldn’t handle his squirming any longer and allowed him on the floor. Harry was ecstatic with this new change. The boy crawled to the two adults on the floor. Harry could feel the warmth of their bodies before he tugged at his aunt's sleeve. Harry stared into her e/c irises and his uncle's green eyes. Those eyes he’d remember forever, engraved in his memory to never forget. His aunt collected him into her arms. His head pressed to her chest. Harry’s sobs calmed, now in the arms of familiarity.

The scent of chocolate, ink, and books surrounded him. His nose was barely catching the smell due to it being runny from crying. Petunia and Vernon approached them. Remus was hugging his wife and his best friend's son, protecting them from the outside world. Gently Y/n pulled Harry from her chest, leaving him to stare at his aunt and uncle.

Y/n sniffled and wiped his tears from his cheeks like mum used to do, “Harry, I promise you, I really don’t want to do this.”

His head tilted in confusion as Y/n’s eyes filled with tears again, “I’ll come back for you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

“If he’s anything like Prongs, he’ll always have hope.” Remus commented, making Y/n smile.

“That’s what daddy used to do to mummy when she was sad,” Harry thought, “he used to say something to make her smile.”

Despite the soft smile on her face, she had wet trails on her cheeks, “I love you, Harry.”

Y/n kissed his forehead where the lightning scar was placed—hugging him one more time and Remus doing the same as his wife. Harry didn’t understand. Where was he going? Why was auntie Y/n letting him go? Why weren’t they taking him home? Where was mummy and daddy?! So he began to wail again. Petunia picked him up, and the family of four now started to walk out of the room.

She couldn’t even cry anymore. The water that once flowed down her cheeks had stopped. The dam had broken but no longer had water to give. Y/n turned to put her face harshly in Remus’ chest. His arms raked through her hair and rubbed her back. Silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, reaching his jawline and falling into Y/n’s hair.

“That was-“ Y/n hiccuped, “the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I know, darling.” Remus whispered, “He’s got James’ spirit, and that means he won’t lose hope. He’s got Lily’s kindness. Harry will be fine.”

Y/n shook her head, “That’s not the point. He should be with me. Not that horrid woman.”

“I know. But you and I will get through this.” Remus assured, tilting her head to face him, “We’ve gotten through everything else. We can get through this too.”

Solemnly, Y/n nodded. Remus placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. The room was precise and silent, aside from Y/n’s hiccups. The clicking of a clock could be heard echoing throughout the room. Usually, the sound would bring a sense of solace to Remus but right now, it was a constant reminder that time had gone by. James and Lily were no longer with him. Sirius had betrayed them all, and Peter was dead. Godric, how could this all happen?

Remus flicked his wand from his pocket, apparating them back to their residence. Inside it was cozy and warm. Remus took off Y/n’s coat along with his own as she took a seat on the leather couch. She grabbed her wand, muttering an “Incendio” to start a fire in the fireplace. Her body was curled up, and Remus placed a blanket over her while he went to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a pale blue with dark oak flooring. The marble countertops and dark cabinets. A brilliant contrast. He could almost hear James’ laugh from when they were painting it together while also hearing Lily and Y/n’s scolding them for making a big mess. It brought an emptiness to his heart, but he filled the kettle with water, allowing it to boil on the water.

Inside the cabinets laid an assortment of tea. Something James and Lily had bought him as a joke. Remus always made tea no matter the occasion. It was so him. James had seen it at a muggle store Lily had brought him for. He had been dying of laughter in the store just thinking about it. It got laughs around the Christmas tree when Remus unwrapped the decorative paper.

Remus grabbed a tea bag for himself while grabbing cocoa powder from the same cabinet and two mugs from their wedding night. The kettle began making a high pitch noise, and Remus poured the water into both mugs. Placing the tea bag in one cup and a couple of scoops of cocoa powder in the other, mixing them both, adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate and whipped cream. He added honey to his tea.

Mugs in hand, Remus walked to the living room. He placed the cups on the coffee table. Coaxing Y/n to sit up and he set the mug in her hand as she sipped it carefully, not to burn her mouth. Y/n leaned her head on Remus’ shoulder, still holding her mug with both hands. The blanket draped across their laps. Remus had the cup in his right hand, his left arm draped around her shoulders, the pad of his thumb rubbing her shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Rem.”

The holidays were hard. Almost too hard for Y/n and Remus to celebrate. But despite their pain, they decorated their house with garland, lights, and knickknacks. The Christmas tree sat in the right of their living room, covered in the beautiful colorful lights. Placed upon the tree were ornaments and tiny pieces of tinsel. Beneath the tree held presents for each other and a little boy.

Y/n stood in front of the tree, staring at it with a longing look. Remus walked behind her, putting his arms around her neck gently. Y/n’s hands instinctively reached for his bicep, rubbing it gently. Remus kissed her cheek and placed his head on top of hers.

“I wanna visit him.”

“Okay.”

Y/n turned to face him, “Okay?”

“What am I gonna tell you?” Remus joked, “No?”

“No. I just- I didn’t expect you to agree so fast.” Y/n replied, and Remus cupped her cheek, “He’s your nephew too. You have a right to see him.”

She smiled, “Yeah, you’re right.”

He kissed her forehead, “First Christmas without them….”

“I know.” Y/n said sadly, “It feels strange not to have James jumping around like a child.”

“It feels not having Lily in the kitchen trying to make your mums mince pies.”

Y/n chuckled, “She never got to master them.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure she’s up there trying.” Remus replied, smiling, “You think Peter is trying to steal the batter?” Y/n asked.

“Oh, definitely!” Remus exclaimed, smiling more than he had in months, “That bugger always used to Nick my chocolate at Hogwarts.”

“I dunno how he found my stash every time.”

The couple placed their foreheads on each other’s, closing their eyes, “We miss you, James and Lily.”

“We miss you more than ever.”

Y/n sighed, “I love you guys.”

Christmas morning was dull compared to their regular routine. Y/n was used to having James jump on top of her every Christmas so they can wake up their parents and open presents. Instead, she was woken up with kisses being placed on her neck and shoulder. Y/n turned and was faced with the sleepy face of her husband.

His sandy hair ruffled and on top of the white pillow. Green eyes glazed with a film of sleep. His lips pulled up in an effortless gentle smile. The scars on his face were whiter instead of their usual pale pink. His stubble was growing into full facial hair due to his lack of shaving. Y/n let her hand cup his right cheek, her thumb rubbing his cheekbone.

“You need to shave.”

Remus chuckled, “It’s Christmas, and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Merry Christmas, you need to shave?” Y/n corrected with a smile, making him laugh, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

They shared a soft and gentle kiss. His lips taking her bottom one, hers taking his top one. Soft and slow. Gentle and sweet. Pulling apart, their eyes fluttered, focusing on one another. Her eyes were so beautiful. Looking into her eyes, Remus could read an endless amount of stories. The gorgeous e/c. His eyes were evergreen. Holding so much love and adoration. She could read him like a book through his eyes.

Christmas meant eating a good meal and sharing kisses beneath the mistletoe. The couple opened each other’s presents. Y/n earning new books and some of Remus’ old sweaters that she thought he threw away. The last item she received was a maroon and gold jersey. It was her brother's Quidditch Captain jersey from when he played. Remus must’ve found it in the wreckage at Godric’s Hallow.

Remus opened his presents, getting ink, quills, notebooks, and books of his own. Since Remus couldn’t work, he always dreamed of writing a book. At Hogwarts, Remus excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he wanted to write a nonbias textbook for it. Y/n always encouraged his dreams and goals. If anyone could do it, it was him.

Left under the tree were three wrapped boxes meant for the little boy. Remus grabbed a tote bag and placed them inside of it. Y/n gripped his hand tightly as they apparated to Privet Drive. They began walking down the street, sweaters on in the snow, while she grabbed his hand tighter.

“What if- What if he doesn’t recognize me?”

“Y/n, he couldn’t forget you.” Remus assured as they stood outside house four.

Gently Y/n knocked on the door. It was oak wood, and the house appeared to be at least two stories. Remus kept his hand intertwined with hers as his other held the bag with the boy's presents. Footsteps could be heard walking towards the door. Petunia had opened it to be faced with two young adults.

“Mrs. Dursley.” Remus greeted curtly, “May we see Harry?”

Petunia began to ponder and saw the bag of presents in the man's hand, “Sure.”

The woman walked into the hallway and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was coaxed out of the storage space, and he turned to the left, where he saw his uncle and aunt. The boy's lips curved into a great big smile. Harry ran into the arms of his aunt, hugging her tightly.

“Auntie!”

Her heart melted, “Hey, mini Prongs.”

Harry turned the male beside her, “Moony!”

Remus wrapped his arms around the little boy and picked him up as they walked inside. The three of them sat in the foyer on the floor. Harry sat between Y/n’s legs, his back to her stomach as Remus sat in front of him. Gently Remus disposed of the bag and placed the presents in front of him.

“Go on, Harry. These are for you from Moony and Auntie.” Remus cooed, and Harry grabbed one, gently ripping the wrapping off.

Inside was a baby stag stuffed animal, which Harry hugged close to his chest, “Your dad's favorite animal was a stag. Thought you might want something to remember him by.” Remus stated, smiling sheepishly.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, daddy.” Y/n replied as Harry smiled up at her.

“Go on. There’s two more for you, baby.” Y/n pointed at the other two boxes, and Harry began unwrapping another.

This was a tinier box, and inside were golden glasses, “You don’t need these just yet, but these were your fathers. I wanted them to be yours.” Y/n informed him as he placed them on top of his nose.

The final box was mini-figures that Harry could play with in his spare time, which he seemed more than grateful for. Harry was giggling and laughing, happy with all his presents. The boy turned in Y/n’s lap, hugging her as tight as he could. Y/n’s hand rested on his back, and she gently kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Harry. Don’t forget that.”

“‘Ove you too.” Harry replied, having a hard time pronouncing words.

Next, he hugged Remus, who did the same. He didn’t want to leave Remus’ arms. He always ran hotter than the everyday person. Remus was a personal furnace. It makes sense why a cold young boy didn’t want to let go of the man. Within minutes the young boy was asleep in Remus’ arms.

Petunia came into the hallway an hour later to see Harry soundly asleep in the man's arms, “Excuse me, but I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/n took Harry from Remus’ arms and gave him to Petunia, “Thank you for letting us see him.”

Petunia took the boy from Y/n’s arms, “Yes.”

She put the boy in his bed under the cupboard, making Y/n frown at his living situation, “Do you- Do you think that Harry could stay with us some weekends?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay.” Y/n muttered, “Thank you again, but we must’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“Of course.”

Y/n took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the house. They walked to a safe spot to apparate back home. They both took off their coats and placed them on the coat rack. Y/n went to turn on a movie on their television set while Remus made hot chocolate and snacks. Both of them curled up onto the sofa and fell asleep.

Over the course of the next nine years, Harry has been visited by his aunt and uncle on many different occasions. Birthdays, Christmas’s, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, and sometimes just randomly, but he always looked forward to seeing them. Every time without fail, Harry would always jump in Y/n’s arms no matter how old he got.

The warmth and feeling of being safe in her arms brought a sense of comfort no one seemed compared to. She felt like daddy. His radiate smile, his incredibly warm body, the smoothness of her voice, the glitter in her eyes, her untied hair. Auntie Y/n felt like James. But no matter how hard he tried, she never was dad exactly, but she was auntie. Y/n was his dad's sister, and for now, that’d have to do.

Of course, uncle Moony felt the same. But there were some days he didn’t show up, much to Harry’s displeasure. Harry loved sleeping in Remus’ arms when he was a young toddler. The chocolate, ink, and parchment smell always filled his sensitive nose with such a safe feeling. Harry’s favorite time of year was Christmas when Petunia would make hot cocoa, filling the room with its sweet sense. Although he never got a cup of it himself, the smell brought a sense of comfort. As if uncle Moony was embracing him tightly on all sides.

When Harry reached eleven, owls began delivering envelopes to Privet Drive number Four. But it seems that uncle Vernon refused to let him open any of them. He did whatever he had to, blocking the mail slot in the door, burning the letters, even going as extreme to leave the house. Where inevitably Hagrid - gamekeeper - at Hogwarts came to retrieve him and give him the letter.

He couldn’t believe it. He was a wizard! All this time being belittled by Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, he finally felt special aside from those times with his other family. Harry had a chance to prove himself to be great. To prove himself that he wasn’t just a bug on the ground to be stepped on. Only one thought crossed his mind though.

“I can’t wait to tell aunt Y/n and uncle Moony.”

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thru-the-grapevine · 2 years ago

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[4:52 PM] You were prepared for a lot of things on your walks home from work, but being clotheslined by a seven-year-old learning to bike with no training wheels wasn’t one of them.

“Sorry!” The little girl screeched as her bike continued to careen haphazardly down the sidewalk. “Daddy, how do I stop?!”

“Use the brakes! We’ve talked about this!”

The girl squealed and tumbled purposefully into the grass next to the sidewalk about ten feet away from you. “I did it! Come get me!”

“Just a second, honey!”

You sat up slowly, taking quick inventory. You could still feel all your limbs, although you were going to have the mother of all bruises on your right hip and thigh.

A set of running footsteps pounded towards you. “Shoot, I am so, so sorry. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fi…” You paused, blinking up at what had to be the prettiest pair of eyes you’d ever seen. Belonging to the prettiest man you’d ever seen.

You cleared your throat and finished your sentence. “Fine. I’m fine.”

The man didn’t look convinced, but knelt and began scooping up items from your bag that you hadn’t realized had scattered. “I’m seriously so sorry. I try to make sure we’re practicing bike-riding on quiet streets so there aren’t any casualties.”

“I usually take a different route, so,” you said, taking the items the man picked up and putting them back into your bag. “No harm done.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? She took you out pretty hard.”

The man’s sweet look of concern made a cloud of butterflies take off in your stomach. “I promise I’m fine. I’m sturdier than I look.”

“I hope so,” the man said, smiling as he offered a hand to help you to your feet. You took his hand and stood back up slowly.

“Daddy, Daddy, let’s try again!”

The little cyclist came bounding up to the two of you, grinning.

“Just a moment, love,” the man said, giving the little girl a stern look. “What do we say when we knock someone over?”

“Oh, yeah,” the little girl said, turning to look up at you with nearly-identical eyes. “I’m really sorry I hit you. I’m not good at steering yet. Or stopping. Just going. Going’s my best thing.”

You bit back a smile. “I can tell.”

“How can I make it up to you?” The man asked, and you realized he still had a hold of your hand.

You shrugged, letting go and pulling your bag up your shoulder. “No need. No harm done, promise.”

“Please, I insist,” the man said, smiling, and you felt that cloud of butterflies in your stomach again. He had a very nice smile. “Doesn’t have to be today, but I feel bad just letting you go your merry way when my daughter nearly killed you.”

“She didn’t nearly kill me,” you said just as the little girl said “I didn’t kill anyone, Daddy!”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Then maybe just…for my own benefit? Let me?”

You must have been looking at how pretty he was for too long, because you heard yourself say, “Sure.”

His smile really did light up his whole face in a way you really admired. “Excellent. Yang Hongseok.”

You gave him your name, taking his offered hand and shaking it. “So how do you want to do this?”

“Wanna, like–I mean, if you’re not busy…we could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

“Maybe this Friday?”

“Great.” Hongseok pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me get your number and it’s a date. A time, I mean! Not a…unless you…no, just a time.”

“Why’s your face all funny, Daddy?” The little girl giggled.

“It isn’t,” Hongseok insisted, face flushed as he handed you his phone with a contact page pulled up.

If you were unprepared to be bowled over by a kid on a bike, you were even less prepared for someone who looked like Yang Hongseok to ask you on a date on your walk home from work. But you thought it might not be so bad, every once in a while, for the unexpected to happen.

#hongseok fluff #hongseok x reader #Pentagon fluff #Hongseok drabble #pentagon drabble #Hongseok timestamp #Pentagon timestamp #Yang Hongseok fluff #Yang Hongseok drabble #Yang Hongseok timestamp #hongseok #yang hongseok #Pentagon #admin ellie #ellie writes #ellie’s fluff #i miss him okay i miss him i miss him pls come home from war king #also idk why the idea of him being a dad took me tf out but boy howdy it sure did

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thismessymasterpiece · 3 years ago

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comedy.

Summary - Spencer Reid hunts down monsters hiding in the darkness of his professional life every day. His greatest fear is them lingering into the solace of brightness his home life provides.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Wife!OC (?) This is a shifting story so the "OC" is myself, I do not know if that counts...

Category - Angst, very happy and fluffy ending!

TW - Cursing, insinuations of death, uses of words such as God, Jesus, Lord, etc., and Spencer being scared out of his wits.

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Contains - Spencer being so terrified it broke my heart putting it into words and Spencer being the cutest father and husband ever.

Author's Note - If it helps anyone with visualization who would like this, this is season four to six Spence. This is my first self-written post on this platform so I apologize if it is no good. Please, please do not hesitate to make any comments or provide constructive criticism. All I want to do is improve my writing and hopefully spread some happiness to anyone who reads this <3

"Honey, I'm home!" Spencer singsongs as he unlocks the front door to our shared home and enters. Ever since Penny and I tried to teach Spence the benefits of comedy, he has been trying to incorporate it more into his everyday life, if only to hear the glorious giggle he so desperately desires to constantly pull from me.

As he stuffs them back into his pocket, Spencer cannot help thinking that thank goodness his eidetic memory pulled through and he remembered his keys this time... normally I have to run over and let him in.

It all seems comfortable and cozy as it so often does when we are together. When he only hears the high-pitched barking of our fur baby, Noodles, and not the telltale response I so often give however, the panic sets in.

"Lovie?" he calls out, trying in vain to contain the waver his voice has already taken on.

Silence greets him and his blood runs cold. Disregarding the loud thump that his messenger bag makes as it falls off his shoulder, he darts into our house seeking me out.

Tears prick his eyes as he calls desperately with no recognition. After a few minutes of searching with no findings, he can no longer help the invasive thoughts that plague us and stem from our job.

Oh, God, please... no, Spencer's brain begs to any and all deities he can think up.

His worst fears are imagined as he walks into the living room. On the floor in front of our sofa, I am lined up perfectly adjacent to the coffee table and spaced precisely between the two articles of furniture with my arms crossed delicately over my chest and my hands folded over my cellphone.

He falls to his knees beside me and his sobs become involuntarily unrestrained. He sees my face peaceful, eyes closed with a slight smile and clutches at my hand.

"Aphrodite, Dite, please no..." He barters, "No, please, I'll do anything!"

Noodles continues to bark at my unmoving body. Spencer turns to her and scoops her up in a hug.

"Oh, God, please no!" He shouts in desperation.

As his reality crashes down around him, he clings to something familiar. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his cellphone to perform one of the only functions he is familiar with.

Picking Morgan off his favorites list, the line begins to ring.

"Pretty boy," Derek's voice slowly and jokingly chants into the phone.

"M- Morgan," Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and dry as it scratches out.

"Oh, Jesus H. Christ, you sound dead on your feet," Morgan laughs out. A deafening sob cuts him short.

"Oh, Lord, Reid, what is it?" Morgan asks, finally egging on.

"I- It- It's... It's Dite- She..." His sobs take over and Morgan realizes the seriousness that Spencer presumes of what he came home to.

"Kid, I'm on my way. Check her... Check her pulse and call an ambulance if it- Imma be there in a few minutes, I'll call everyone for you."

With that the line cuts out and Spencer drops his phone to the side. He cries with the realization that his worst nightmare is playing out directly before him.

Think, Spencer, his brain chides. You do some of your best work under intense terror.

'Check her pulse,' Morgan's words ricochet against his skull over and over again before they process.

"Pulse, right..." Spencer mumbles over his sniffles.

Grasping for my wrist, he gasps loudly. Even, real beats, that is what he feels and-

"No..." he mutters, reaching up to cup my cheek in his palm.

He trails his hand below my jaw and again, he feels that tangible proof of life coursing below the skin. He then tucks a bang curtaining out around my forehead and could almost smack himself at his discovery.

Pulling my AirPod out of my right ear, he leans down to kiss me on the apple of the cheek and whisper sweet professions of relief in my ear.

"Oh, Jesus!" I yell, jumping millimeters close to being out of my skin at his ever-grateful affection.

"Spence!" I exclaim when I process his presence, pulling him into a tight hug before getting a good look at his tear streaked cheeks. His sniffles give him away.

"Bubs," I say as I pull back to properly take him in and rest both my hands on his shoulders, "what is it?"

"You scared me!" He sobs, dropping his head on top of mine to place a peck there and inhale my scent.

"How? I just fell off the couch playing with the puppy and took a nap," I state, clearly bewildered to waking up to such a distressed version of my husband.

"I thought you were-" He cuts off with another sob, completely unable to force himself to entertain the thought.

"Oh, bubs," I whisper, pulling him in impossibly tight and allowing him to let it all out into my neck.

Before his misery could get going again, we hear a small patter of what sounds like more than one set of feet and turn to the sound. Luckily only two of the six of them found their sneaky ways back to consciousness.

"Mummy?" One of our daughters, Florence, stumbles in on the scene.

"Dada?" Her six year old twin brother, Isaac, rubs his eyes against the harsh light as he walks in behind her, clutching her small hand tightly.

"Hey, Thing One," Spencer croaks as Florence walks up to him and he automatically opens his arms for her to crawl in. She has him so goddamn wrapped around her teensy tiny finger and he could not be more ecstatic about it.

"Dada," she mumbles, "what's wrong?"

He kisses her head lovingly before responding.

"Absolutely nothing, babes," His voice easily secretes care, "absolutely nothing is wrong."

"Mummy," Isaac leans up to my ear, "I think he is lying."

My son kisses my cheek because it is opportune and pulls back, nodding like this is the most serious statement of truth he would ever utter. I have to fight desperately to restrain my smile as he meets my eyes, the innocence in his warming me up inside.

All I can have myself do is wink at him, causing him to giggle adorably and throw all of his weight at me in a hug so bone-crushing that someone as tiny as him shouldn't be allowed to manage it.

I meet Spencer's eye, love oozing at him.

He was always a Momma's boy, Spence mouthes silently, an unbelievably warm smile on his face.

Wonder where he gets it from, I respond, mirroring his facial expressions effortlessly.

We lose ourselves in the abundance of delightful domesticity of the moment. Lose ourselves so much that when a sharp set of knocks rap on the door, we jump halfway out of our skins. Some of us not for the first time tonight.

"Kid, open the damn door now!" Morgan's voice yells, pounding even harder again on our front door.

"Oh..." Spence looks suddenly guilty, "I might have forgotten to mention that I called Morgan when I was scared out of my mind."

"No, really?" Sarcasm drips like sap from my words but he smiles because he knows that that sap is love. Love never fails to come from us, from our comedy.

taglist, i suppose :)

@safespacespence

cover photo courtesy of @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life <3

dividers courtesy of the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune <3

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x oc #spencer x oc #spencer reid x fem!oc #spencer walter reid

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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Babysitter SL

Prompt: Shade (lord) is in the midst of final exams and they’re more stressed and tired than usual while babysitting. They accidentally fall asleep in the middle of a calm spell and the god babies become worried. The next time Shade comes over, all of the god babies present a gift they all made together!

By @minnesotamidian-blog

Shade barely noticed their surroundings as they entered the nursery playroom. Plastic clattered and they sighed as Radiance yelled at the top of her lungs. At least she wasn't screaming. Yet. The scene was set: Unn was still in a crib and chewing on a bar, Root was climbing slowly onto a chair. Radiance was knocking over plastic blocks as Grimm cackled away. For once, Wyrm was playing peacefully with a kick toy, batting at it with his tail. Root got onto the chair and squealed, raising her arms. "Big Root now!" The little blue-eyed godling squeaked out.

Shade picked her up, hugged her to their chest before holding her out. "Now you're a flying Root."

She screamed laughter as Shade tiredly walked her around the room before setting her down near some of her favorite toys. They made sure nobody else had claimed the chair and took a seat, bending over to pick up the fussy moth. "Ancient enemy!" Of course she bit their hand.

Shade winced and just ran a hand over her fluff. "Are you hungry for something that isn't void?" They spoke tiredly.

"Oranges!" She yelled out.

The teen sighed as he went to the mini-fridge with snacks and found some miracle of miracles! pre-peeled oranges. Shade pulled them out and put her in a high chair with one at a time so she wouldn't be tempted to throw the extras at them.

Finals were here and they were really taking it out of the gangly god. Why did they have to know stuff about inorganic chemistry? Why did they have to know about history nobody cared about? There were some fun subjects, but the finals seemed to even suck the fun out of those classes, going over notes and studying everything just in case. They'd been pulling long nights and the night before had been an all-night cram session-and they still had to come to work, they couldn't afford not to. They'd underlined all the stuff the teacher had said was important to remember and had written down stuff from the last finals about each teacher's usual tests.

It made narrowing down what to study from impossible to I'm totally toast. They groaned as they set down a calmer Radiance the opposite side of the room from Wyrm. She found toys that interested her, at least. Root wandered over to Wyrm, who was really into knocking at the kick toy and purring. Root settled nearby and burbled as she hugged and gnawed a plushie.

The teen couldn't help it. The kids were calm for once; their head started to tilt forward, eyes heavy. They were exhausted. Shade's eyes closed and their breathing deepened. At first, their toys were too interesting to notice their babysitter's state; but it didn't take long for Grimm to get bored enough to fly over and notice. "...Shade? Shade's eyes are closed." They landed and the four children not in a crib headed for the batlike godling.

"Is Shade dead?" Wyrm sounded worried.

"Don't be stupid, they're having a nap!" Radiance huffed.

Root looked up and swayed before patting Shade's leg. "Grown-ups don't have nap times." She was tearing up.

"Nuh-uh, they're having bad dreams and it's tasty!" Grimm clamored onto their lap.

The others joined, Radiance grabbing Unn to join them on the sleeping teen. Grimm rested between Shade's horns, Unn was on one shoulder, Radiance on the other, with Root and Wyrm curled up together on Shade's lap, Wyrm purring for once.

When Shade woke up, they were surprised by the weight on their body and forced themself to look down and around before moving. "Uh oh, I fell asleep… sheesh, I'm glad this place isn't a fiery disaster." They picked the godlings up. "You're not dead!" Wyrm exclaimed.

Root burst into tears and even Grimm joined in on the crying spat. Shade sighed and spent the rest of the time comforting them until meal time and settled them down. Time to go home for them all!

But the worry didn't leave the heads of the little godlings. "We should make something for Shade. If they're having nightmares, they might be sad." Radiance sighed. "But that doesn't mean I feel bad for my ancient enemy!" "What do we make?" Root twirled around, slowly turning in place until she fell onto pillows in her dizziness.

"Something of clay! I can burn it dry!" Grimm hopped around.

"But there's no clay." Unn spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "But there's crayons and paper."

"Oooh. We can make a pretty picture for Shade!" Wyrm waved his head happily. The group went for papers and each started to draw on the paper. "You're taking up too much paper!" Wyrm whined. Radiance complained in turn, pointing at the color he was using. "I want that color!"

Wyrm growled and argued back. "I had it first!"

They started rolling around over their drawings, biting and clawing. Grimm gave a solid scream that startled the two. "You ruined Shade's pretty pictures!" He yelled.

The two looked at each other and hung their heads. "...sorry." Radiance muttered. "-'m sorry." Wyrm looked away from the moth, skulking. "Start again? You can have the crayon, Radiance…"

Radiance took the crayon and they all picked up the last piece of paper. "I think this is better." Root spoke cheerfully.

It was three days later, once Shade had a solid night's sleep and finals completed that they'd returned to work. A large construction sheet of paper in grey covered in scribbles and rough names and messages was waiting for them.

Feel better soon Shade

Love you

Best babysitter

Tastiest nightmare!

Not the worst anciant ancient enemy.Shade could only feel warmth and laugh, hugging the drawing to themself. There were some days the job felt like the best thing in the world. ------------------------------- By @tomatotimes

-------------------------------

By @loud-whistling-yes

"No."

The kids protested louder. Shade lifted the TV remote higher up, now above their head.

"Screentime's over, I said no."

Wyrm attempted to crawl up their leg in what was a rather pathetic attempt at stealing the remote, but was promptly shaken off. Grimm tried next, flying overhead to snatch the controller. Shade ducked and grabbed him by the tail before he could send himself flying straight towards the ceiling fan for the third time that day.

"Find something else to do," Shade said as they stuffed the remote deep into their pocket, much to everyone else's dismay. "Look, as much as I'd love to shut you guys up for the whole day, you've all been staring at the TV for hours now and I don't want to get in trouble with your parents."

Louder complaints.

"No, no, no. I am not cracking this time." Shade announced as they pulled Radi, who was hissing like an angry cat, off their jeans and pulled their phone out. "You guys got me last week, never again. No more TV for you, we're doing something else before I lose my money for tonight. Google almighty, what is your suggestion."

activities to do with children

fun activities to do with children

activities to do with toddlers

what can I do with kids that isn't a major headache to deal with goddamnit

Go to the park? Shade took about half a second to consider the thought before wondering why they even thought it was possible anyways. Five kids from the deepest depths of hell, outdoors? No. No park.

Finger painting? A pain to clean up, but better than outdoors. Then they looked up from their phone and considered the idea with greater thought. Grimm's wings, Radi's legs, Unn and Wyrm's… er…. Body?.... Nevermind.

Play pretend? …. If they hear the name Hallownest one more time they might just go insane.

Hide and seek? No. No no no no no. No more hide and seek. Shade was utterly sick of hide and seek. If they had to spend another second stuffed inside the closet or trying to get Radi off the roof they'll probably quit the job right there and then.

Baking?

… That might work. Sure, cleaning up is gonna be absolute hell but it's the only thing Google suggested that they haven't tried yet without horrible results.

Shade stuffed their phone back into their pocket and made a getaway to the kitchen, everyone else following, probably still trying to get the remote back. Butter, eggs, flour, sugar, oh, even some chocolate chips…

"Well then," They declared, pulling every ingredient out of the cabinet and fridge. "We're making cookies! And no, no one is allowed to touch the oven when it's hot. If you guys behave we'll have cookies in like, an hour or something like that."

The kids watched in confusion as Shade ran around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons and a bunch of other utensils while typing furiously on their phone.

Cookies recipe

Cookies recipe easy

Cookies recipe for beginners

Cookies recipe for kids

"What do you guys think about chocolate chip cookies?"

Multiple chitters of approval. "Chocolate chip cookies it is then."

Step one: sieve the flour. Oh wyrm, first step and it's already gonna go to shit.

"Okay, you guys can watch this but for the love of the holy wyrm, do not touch it." Shade measured the correct amount of flour before scooping Wrym and Unn off the floor onto the table so they could see while Radi pulled herself onto the chair. The Lady had already clinged herself onto their sweater and Grimm was doing just fine flying nearby.

“You guys get one chocolate chip each if you guys behave and don’t get flour everywhere.” Shade added. “Now, Lady, hold still and don’t move, I gotta keep my hands steady for this…”

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

"Okay, chocolate chip time." Shade popped open the jar of chocolate as the kids cheered. "Actually, we’re not supposed to be eating this plain, cause it's going into the cookies. But no one actually does that so you guys get five chips each for not setting the kitchen on fire so far."

"The recipe says a cup of chocolate chips but we all know that's a lie." They added while shoving their phone back in their pocket and grabbing a handful of chips before mixing the batter together. "I'm probably not someone you should take life lessons from, but here's one thing I can guarantee you should take to heart: never follow the recipe when it comes to chocolate chips, you count that with your soul."

Final step: oven time. The oven was preheated earlier, and the only thing left was to get the cookies into the tray and into the oven. "Now, who wants to make heart-shaped cookies?"

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

Three deformed stars, five mutated trees, two malformed cats, several irregular hearts, a couple handfuls of chocolate eaten straight from the jar, and one (1) perfectly round cookie later, the cookies were on the tray, in the oven, and in a surprising turn of events, no one burned themselves… yet. Shade grabbed everyone and made sure no one was in a five-meter radius within the oven before picking up all the dirty bowls and utensils. “Cookies will have to sit in there for about 15 minutes, we’ll be cleaning up in the meantime.”

“Don’t look at me like that, and no whining, if you want cookies you gotta deal with the mess afterwards. That's the payoff, unless you're a wizard who has a passion for baking. Then that's fair, I guess." They dumped all the used utensils they could find and turned on the sink. The sief, three bowls, tablespoons and teaspoons.. Oh wait.

"Radi, the big wooden spoon, please?" Shade called, sponge in their hand and bowls being thoroughly rinsed.

Radi, of course, was not willing to help, because she's basically a feral house cat that just so happened to grow more legs than the average feline. Shade sighed and moved on to finding the next helper they could find.

"Grimm, I know you're touching the oven, stop it. I'm pretty sure you're immune to fire but not everyone else and you're setting a bad example for them. Get me the spoon please."

“Lady, here’s a cloth, help me dry the bowls up. Wyrm, … i have no idea how you can help, no limbs and all but uh, could you go get Unn? I have no idea where she went. Thanks.” The last sentence was to Grimm, who flew over with the mixing spoon and dropped it into the sink while Wyrm scurried away to find Unn, wherever she’s napping at.

"Radi? Radi, I know you're right behind me, stop pretending that you can't hear me. Lady has an extra cloth with her, you're on table wiping duty."

*********

“See? That wasn't so bad,” Shade sent the last of the bowls back into the cupboards and closed it shut. “And the cookies are pretty much done.”

“Also, no. You may not eat the cookies the moment I pull them out of the oven. These rules also apply to Grimm because it's unfair to everyone else.. Don’t look at me like that Grimm, I know you’ll eat them all before they cool and leave us nothing.”

The cookies smelt delicious, and were left on the dining table to cool. “Now that it's cooling down, it's naptime.”

A chorus of groans and wailing.

“It’ll be ready when you guys get up. Up up up, sleep time.”

**********

If you’ve been anywhere near toddlers before, you’d know that getting them to nap in their bedrooms is a near-impossible situation. And Shade was not a person who deals with near-impossible situations well. So following the months old custom, Shade turned on the tv, remote miraculously not pickpocketed, collapsed onto the couch, and waited for everyone piling on them to fall asleep before moving them into their bedroom and pretending they managed to wrangle them all into bed.

And it all goes to plan, the Lady and Wyrm were sound asleep on their lap, Radi and Unn were dozing off on their shoulders, and they're pretty sure the snoring from the top of their head was coming from Grmm. Now, step 2: get everyone off them and onto the beds.

… Or maybe later. It's been a long day, and the couch is pretty comfy. Yeah, just five more minutes, nothing wrong with that…

And if the parents came home to see a cleaner-than-expected kitchen, a tray of chocolate chip cookies, and five kids snoring on top of their babysitter, also sound asleep, then that’s nobody’s business.

And if the originally completely full jar of chocolate chips was pretty much empty, then that’s no one’s business as well.

-------------------------------

By @astronomicartz

-------------------------------

By @hollow-kin

Shade lord wanted to take a nap. They are sooo tired, but they are babysitting 5 baby gods for 5$/H. Grimm is a brat, Radiance his sister is also a brat. Unn was ether eating or seeping, same with grub1. Lady was, well sweet and cuddly. they needed to find a distraction for the kids, what would work?

Would tv work, would cartoons work? They had dinner already. Tv had to work or grub and radiance would destroy the house. They needed to take a nap. Now what to watch was a different question, they would have to ask the kids. “so, what do guys want to watch? “Movie!” well they were all in agreement, what was good. “What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?” “Fire!” “dath” “animal” “tree” “ok. No, we are NOT watching fire.” “awww” “i do not know what dath means so no. So nature show it is then.” they go over to the tv and turn it on, then select the world around us. Lady was quick to fall asleep, on their lap. Shade lord slowly fell asleep, and grub nested between grub and shade lord. Grimm climed up to shade lord's head.

-------------------------------

By @hawaiianbabidoll

-------------------------------

By @neoliberalsatan

A gentle darkness surrounded the shade lord. He finally felt at ease. "finally", he thought, "rest." it didn't take long after that before the darkness started to take shape and a whole new world created out of shadows sheathed him.

But the happiness of the shadows didn't last long. A new and a new sound drowned out their world and all the animals and plants took to hiding back in his head. The shade lord felt the distressed creations stir inside his mind and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He rubbed his lowest eyes and accepted the call

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh sorry dear, i know it's terribly late but we got an unexpected call and need to leave. Since you've babysat Unn multiple times we assumed she would like to stay with you. Is it okay for you? Can we bring her to your place?" The shade lord thought for a moment and decided he could use the money. "Yea it's fine, she's always such a pleasure to babysit." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "Thank you. You're a life saver. We will make sure you're compensated accordingly."

Feeling a bit more awake after the phone call he started to prepare for having baby Unn over. After a while her parents arrived and after some greetings he was home alone with the baby. He walked with her in his arms towards the living room and placed her gently inside the crib. She opened her eyes for a moment after losing the feeling of someone holding her, but then closed them again and fell back asleep.

The shade lord decided he couldn't sleep anymore and made some popcorn and decided to put on a movie. It didn't even take 20 minutes before he got called again.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh yes finally someone who answers. Sorry but you're our last hope. We were going somewhere tonight but our babysitter called off. Do you think you could babysit our lovely Radiance? She's very good behaved and won't cause you trouble." "yea, no problem. You'll just need to bring her to my place if it's no trouble"

Not even 5 minutes later the parents showed up and dropped of their larva. Shade lord looked at it a bit confused but didn't get the time to say anything because the parents left as soon as they handed her over. He closed his front door and gave the larva a good look. She was white and had a fluffy appearance. She had 5 pairs of legs and yellow-orange eyes. She started to writhe a little bit and shade lord made sure to hurry to the living room. He took a pillow and placed it on the couch and softly laid her on it. She seemed at ease and rested on the pillow all stretched out

Shade lord continued his movie, which was finally starting to get interesting, but as usual the commercial break hit. He was in the kitchen making more popcorn when he got another call.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Hello, is this the babysitter?" "Yes, that's the one you're speaking with." "Great, a family member had an accident and i need to be there for them so do you think you could babysit for me?" "Yep, totally." "Thank you, can we bring him to you?" "Oh yea, no problem."

A few minutes later his doorbell rang and he hurried towards it. The father carried his toddler in what could only be described as wing-esque appendages. The shade lord extended his arms for the man to put his toddler in and felt a gentle brush of the leathery membrane. He shivered lightly before feeling a sudden warmth light up in his face, like someone has started a fire. When he looked back up the man was gone and he closed the door. The creature he was holding in his arms was unlike anything he had ever seen. 2 horns sprouted from its black head. The face was as bleak as white linen on a summer day. It seems she likes make-up because she had already 2 black lines running from her cheeks towards her eyes, eventually fading into the darkness of her head. She had the same membranes as her father and no limbs besides it.

He wasn’t even in the living room before he heard his front door being was under siege. He put the weird creature down and opened the front door. Immediately he was assaulted by Hollow, a very energetic child. He was wearing a green cloak today and it finally seemed he was starting to grow bigger than a hand. His horns has also branched into the inside. Immediately after Hollow jumped on his he could hear Pale complain about his unprofessional work attitude. Although he was bigger than most it seems he wouldn’t grow much anymore. His tiny stature didn’t discourage him from being bossy. Finally White entered. By far the biggest of the bunch, she was also the most introverted. Her roots slid elegantly over towards him and even managed to stop Pale from talking for a moment.

He took them inside the living room only to find that somehow the larva and the winged creature had somehow gotten into a fight and now both were in hiding in opposite sides of the room. Normally he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if somehow his couch wasn’t full of tiny needles and a chair was on fire. He rushed to the tap to fill a bowl of water to extinguish the little fire. With the attention being diverted Hollow managed to slip from the watch of Pale and could now be found in the corner Radiance was hiding. The larva figured out quickly he liked to play games and had soon enough set up a plan to make him betray Pale.

In the meantime White had climbed the couch and started pulling out the needles while Shade lord had figured out what the membrane between the appendages from the weird creature were for. Namely, for flight. And now she was attacking his horns and he couldn’t reach her. As if her flying was not good enough alone, whenever he raised his arms she would back off and launch a little fireball All this commotion woke up baby Unn who slowly started to slither away from her crib to find food.

The shade lord finally had enough of the little fire hazard and rushed towards the pantry to get a kettle. Once he had found it he peeked around the corner only to find that fire hazard eating his popcorn! All caution was thrown aside and he grabbed her by the guts and put her inside the kettle. She tried to heat it but he added some water to it. While it evaporated quickly it was apparently enough to bring over the message. Now he could focus his attention back on the larva again, only she could’ve produced those needles, which White was making great progress with removing them as a quick glance told him.

Now back to Pale and Radiance who were apparently having a fight (Darkness, that larva really has a talent to provoke others). They were arguing near the coffee table, because apparently they wanted a fight so bad they just ran to each other and met in the middle. Hollow was climbing one of the legs of the table, but wasn’t noticed by the shade lord because he was too occupied with the other 2. He tried to separate the arguing pair but they were at each other’s throats. They even had summoned a needle and a tiny dagger to fight each other. The shade lord obviously didn’t count on this tiny factor and had soon enough one in each hand. He screamed, trying not to curse, barely not failing miserably, and Pale managed to escape. In any other situation this wouldn’t pose a problem, but Hollow, after eating some popcorn, found himself at the right edge of the coffee table and pulled out his tiny wooden sword he got from Pale. The larva, Darkness curse her, used this to her advantage and made the sign to Hollow to betray Pale. The act of betraying Pale involved jumping off of the coffee table and hitting Pale as hard on the head as possible. Naturally, all of this went according to plan and even brought some extra spectacle. After Hollow had hit Pale on the head he wasn’t prepared for the recoil of the wood and ended up hitting himself in the face.

All of this lead to 3 crying children (1 of them from laughing, the others from pain) and 1 very angry young adult. He put the larva on the couch and took care of the others while White held a close eye on the damned 10 legged thing. After Pale and Hollow weren’t crying anymore he took the little fire hazard out of the kettle and continued his movie, which was getting to an end.

After the film ended a documentary started and had all the kids hooked. He went to check on Unn only to find an empty crib. He could however see a slimy trail lead up his wall and onto the ceiling. It went through the door into the pantry where he kept his food and toys for the toddlers. He looked up on the ceiling only to find a sleepy Unn with a letter block in her mouth. Suddenly Unn started to make a very weird noise and fell from the ceiling onto his face. He swiped her off of his face onto his shoulder and then washed it.

He returned back to the tv to watch the documentary that was still playing and plopped down on the couch. Not long after he was asleep with White on his left shoulder, Unn on his right shoulder, the little fire hazard on the same arm and Pale curled up in his lap. Radiance and hollow were still awake but occupied with the documentary instead of causing trouble. After the documentary ended they crawled up against his sides and fell asleep.

-------------------------------

By @constantlost

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By @bugbeee

Exhaustion seeped into Shadelord’s body, limbs weighed down by a heaviness they hadn’t experienced in a while. The smatter of godlings that lay around them on the couch, or on them in Radi’s case, was enough to convince them that they had died and that this was the Eternal Void that was created to punish them for cheating on that test in the 8th grade. In their defence, it had been on rock sedimentation.

Wyrm continued his grumbling from the corner of the couch, still infuriated by the attack on his person only moments before. Root, the aggressor, looked remarkably pleased with herself. Shade knew they should probably punish her further in some way but... well, to be perfectly honest, they simply were not paid enough to do so.

They really should have charged more. Fifteen dollars at least per tiny demon they had to look after rather than the whole bunch. Fifteen dollars was not enough to encourage discipline. It was enough for them to make sure none of the godlings killed the other. And they had thought they had come up with an ingenious plan to secure some peace and quiet.

After much wrangling, they had finally managed to set up two separate playpens, each far enough away that the godlings wouldn’t start screaming if one of them saw their rival. Wyrm and Root in one pen, Grimm, Radi and Unn in another. It was a gamble, but one that thankfully seemed to have paid off. Radi was still exhausted from the tussle she had just had with Wyrm, and Grimm seemed content to chew off the heads of the plastic Garbies they had found. Unn continued to watch, and occasionally helped Grimm execute a Garbie in a spectacular manner. It was both reassuring, and beyond disturbing. Root and Wyrm meanwhile were cheerfully ignoring each other as they both played with their own toys.

It should have been foolproof.

Unfortunately for Shade however, they were dealing with infants instead of fools.

For some damned reason, Root had decided that now was the perfect time to act up, instead of being the sweet little darling she had been so far. Her target, much to their dismay, had been Wyrm. In all fairness, the godling had probably deserved it in some way; most likely he had tried to worm too close in order to steal some of the grubpaste and mushroom sticks Shade had left out as a snack. Root had seen this theft as a cardinal sin, and had subsequently decided that Wyrm deserved nothing less than absolute annihilation.

The momentary doze Shade had managed to fall into was abruptly interrupted by loud shrieking and wailing, resulting in them vaulting over the couch to hurriedly find out which one of the godlings was being tortured.

The scene that greeted them was... well, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than some of the other stuff the little goblins had pulled before.

Using her flexible tendrils, Root had seen fit to wrap them around Wyrm, and aggressively dunk him into the bowl of grubpaste he had attempted to steal from. His shrieks and hisses had woken up Radi and drawn the attention of the other children, who were now cheering on Root’s attack on Wyrm’s person.

“Enough,” Shade declared, shooting a glare behind them, “Root, let him go.” Root looked up innocently.

No, she seemed to say with her eyes, justice must prevail.

“Justice won’t get me my fifteen dollars,” they hissed out in return, and they could have sworn that Root shrugged, turning away from them to dunk Wyrm into the bowl yet again.

“No!” they cried out, quickly whipping down to grab the poor child before he could be further humiliated. After finally being saved from his vicious tormentor, Wyrm decided it was time to go into hysterics, lashing out with a sharp tail to fully show his displeasure. Root simply watched impassively as the rest of the children cheered.

Shade wondered if fifteen dollars was even worth it at this point.

“Alright, alright, enough! Root, you go in time out. We do not waterboard our fellow godlings in grubpaste. Wyrm, calm down, it’s just grubpaste- Settle down!” they yelped out, flinching as something heavy settled onto their head. The soft fluff revealed that Radi had decided to fly out of her pen and taunt Wyrm in person. Shade wanted to sob with frustration.

The door cracked open, and Ghost peered in, head tilted curiously.

Need help? they signed, and Shade wanted to collapse in relief.

“Please,” they begged, and their sibling nodded grimly, even as amusement danced in their eyes. Shucking off their school backpack, they quickly headed over to the other pen and signed to them, bobbing their head up and down in a soothing motion. Grimm and Unn were entranced. Radi less so. She remained seated on their head, but at least seemed to have finally stopped provoking Wyrm.

“I’m just going to clean him up,” Shade explained uselessly, watching as Ghost simply nodded and waved them off.

With a tired gait, Shade wandered into the kitchen and turned on the tap, listening as Wyrm’s panicked yelps grew louder at the realisation of what was going to happen next. Radi snickered softly, before leaping off and gliding back into the living room.

Bath time, according to the godlings, was a fate worse than death, and something to be avoided at all cost.

Unfortunately for both Wyrm and Shade, it was a necessary evil. Wyrm disagreed. Loudly. And with claws.

He howled furiously as Shade slowly lowered him into the warm water, softly scrubbing at the now-dried grubpaste sticking to his skin. Despite his attempts, Wyrm failed to prevent them from continuing his bath. He turned to pathetic pleading instead, making soft mewling sounds as though he was nothing more than a poor innocent child who had done nothing wrong, ever.

Shade, who remembered the little bastard knocking a glass ornament onto their head, was not convinced. Ultimately there was no escape, and Wyrm reluctantly gave in to the soft scrubbing, though he made sure his rumbling complaints were known.

“Yes, yes,” Shade said quietly, “I truly am the worst. Close your eyes so I can rinse you.”

Wyrm, in a dumb act of defiance, did not close his eyes. The hysterics started again, and Shade contemplated drowning themself in the half-filled sink. Fifteen dollars, they repeated. Fifteen dollars.

Grabbing a tea towel, they quickly dried the godling off, carefully teasing out water droplets from soft scales. He child gnawed on their fingers in revenge. “I’m done,” they announced, wandering back into the living room with a now clean, and furious, Wyrm.

Ghost looked up from their position on the floor, back leaning against the couch as they played with Grimm. Radi immediately perked up at the sound of Shade’s voice, and quickly flew over, making herself at home on top of their head. Unn seemed to have decided to undertake the momentous task of scaling up the back of the couch, leaving a thick trail of slime behind. Root, still stuck in her pen as punishment, let out a wail, demanding to be let out.

Shade was all out of energy to fight back or deal with a tantrum.

“Alright, alright, out you go,” they muttered, depositing Wyrm on the couch before reaching down to lift out the petulant child from her terrible prison. She clung to them desperately until they finally collapsed on the sofa. She quickly wriggled out of their hold and instead plonked down beside them. Wyrm had hissed at the sight of her, and slunk to the other side of the couch to sulk.

Grimm let out a raspy cackle at the sight, before diving down to nip at Ghost’s fingers.

Unn finally made her way to the top of the couch and waved her eyestalks victoriously. All Shade could do was give her a tired pat.

They sank into the couch, the exhaustion creeping back in. It should have been foolproof.

Fifteen dollars.

-------------------------------

By @arandoskeleartist

youtube

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #BabysitterSL #shade lord #pale king #radiance #nightmare king grimm #unn #white lady

162 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 3 years ago

Text

Phic Phight - I’m Back, AGAIN BITCHES

For: @ectoblastfromthepast @ninjysworld

Dying is kinda a given with Danny, but this time things are a little bit more genuine and the whole thing HASN’T landed him in the Ghost Zone this time either.

Okay. So it was bound to happen eventually. Obviously. Danny lived… well half-lived a wee bit too dangerous to not just up and die, like, all the way kind of die, eventually. So yeah, Danny kinda took a really big axe to the head, and a couple arrows to the chest, maybe he lost a foot somewhere along the way, and a mild case of blood blossom poisoning.

Sure none of that killed him. Hell no.

You know what did?

A stop sign.

Thing got bent up by some shitty ass wind and managed to impale him in such a way as to scoop his core clean out of his body and straight into an industrial wood-chipper. Both of which had a nice healthy coating of ectoplasm due to this being fucking Amity and goddamn EVERYTHING having a touch of the ecto now.

But killed by a fucking stop sign is some seriously hilarious shit if he says so himself. And he does say so himself, purely because he was still walking around. Sure, he sure as shit wasn’t walking around Amity Park, or the Ghost Zone; but whoever does the decorating here has a THING for the dramatics of death. Place has got the whole shebang. Decrepit skeletons, polished skulls, distant wailing screams of suffering, random bits of fire and what can only be assumed to be noxious gas, walls so high you can’t see the ceiling to make you feel all small and shit, ground is just uneven enough to make walking something of a nervous hassle if your balance isn’t the shit™️. So yeah, he might be admiring a bit. Maybe.

Some slender red-furred dude in a white tailcoat with long horns trailing back off their head and tiny ass sunglasses -dude, it ain’t fucking bright in here- popping up outta nowhere actually gets Danny to give an ounce of a shit.

He’s been in a lot of weird places alright? You can only get sent to nightmare realms and mindscapes and reality bent evil circuses, so many times before shit loses its unsettling nerve-racking sparkle.

The whoever or whatever the fuck quirks an eyebrow, chuckling some before pulling out a book, “well, you’re a calm one”.

“Eh, I managed to sneak cat shit and Kitty litter in Vlad’s favourite whiskey bottle, so if this is, like, dead dead afterlife shit; I’m good. Not all Gucci, but good”. The whatever chuckles more, “I like you kid”. Danny gives them a stupid thumbs up.

The guy flipping pages, “ah Daniel Fenton eh? And Danny Phantom. And two middle names too! Well someone’s a little overachiever”.

“Eh, I like to make shit complicated. Complicated means it kinda becomes everybody's problem”.

The whatever shakes their head with a smirk, “well, it’s time for judgment and all that”, shrugging and looking at Danny, whose now stuck his hands in his pockets lazily, “gotta look through those life choices, you know”. Danny just chuckles quietly. Oh this ought to be good.

“Oh! Defeated one of the most powerful tyrants in the universe, freeing quadrillions of ghosts from his wrath. Little goody goody for my tastes but impressive nonetheless. And I am always down for tearing down obnoxious tyrants who think themselves god”.

…

“Beat up two thousand and twenty geese?”.

Danny smirks, “I wanted to be the reason they started crossing the street. You know, ingrain a genetically passed down fear of me and these wicked fists”. That gets him more laughs from the whatever.

…

“I’m guessing the same reasoning for beating up this Box Ghost quite literally two times shy of two million times?”.

Danny scowls with feeling, “well shit, now I do have one regret. Quick, send me back so I can beat his annoying ass two more times”.

The whatever snorts, amused, “I would but technicalities and all that”.

…

“Accidentally put a not insignificant dent in the local tree population by getting the chills. Alright, can’t say that counts for anything either way”.

…

“Wow there is quite the list for harassing Vladimir Masters. Oh! Tricked into cannibalism via fingertips coated in popcorn seasoning, now there’s an idea indeed. And deleting yourself out of existence to remove his power? Tenacious”.

Danny points at them, “to be fair, I didn’t know I’d delete myself”, shrugging, “my lucks just shit like that”.

“Yes I see that you died by… having your core scooped out by an uprooted stop sign, after being brained by an axe, shot nineteen times by arrows, had your foot bitten off, somewhat badly poisoned by blood blossoms, and… having your spine shattered by a cement-filled rubber chicken? Wow. And I mean really. Wow”.

“What can I say, if you see me dying then know that somewhere somehow I was going hard”.

The whatever quirks an eyebrow, “sounds more like life and death really gave you the short end of the stick kid, some of this shit is truly inspired. Causing mass panic by force-feeding someone a confetti canon at their own wedding and setting it off? That must have been messy”.

“Oh it was, guy was sneezing confetti for a week. Highly recommend”, Danny shrugging, “but yeah, world did me pretty dirty. Protected everyone and all that, got beat the Hell, HA! I think I’m funny, up for it; and hated by pretty much everyone. Ever wonder what it would be like to be dissected by your own parents? I have. Super not cool. But, like, if I got away and say tripped on my own intestines while doing so that would be kinda hilarious and solidly horrifying for them”, intangibly -wow surprised that still works- digging in his stomach to produce three potatoes, a screwdriver, and a vintage magazine, “went and stuffed this shit in there just in case they ever went scalpel happy and did the shit. Gotta pack a few surprises”.

The whatever blinks, snapping the book close, “well now, that about says it for me”, clapping Danny on the shoulder, “kid, let’s get you back up there and get that ball rolling, because you’ve got some ideas that I am so here for”.

But both of them quirk eyebrows and tilt heads as little black lightning stuff sparks around Danny. The whatever cackling after a beat, “I have never met a mortal I was legitimately impressed and awed by!”, smirking, “well well well, kid, looks like you’ve got some pals willing to dabble in black magic to get you back. Even willing to do the real deal and make a deal with little ol’ Alastor and Fritz. Ha!”, the whatever laughs loudly, “don’t know if that’s gutsy or just foolish!”. They poof away the book thing, actually leaning an elbow on Danny’s shoulder, crossing their hooved ankles, “yer gettin’ to go back without even my help. Immediately”.

Danny snorts, eyeing the lightning, “wow, those dicks. Can’t let me rest for ten fucking minutes”, eh it tracks. Rest and relaxation effectively wasn’t his shit these days. Sam and Tucker, mostly Sam, we’re waaaaaaaaay too pushy about doing the ‘hero’ thing though. Like fuck, he doesn’t need to fight every battle, damn.

The whatever rolls their eyes so hard their furry head moves with it, “Hmpf. Well now I owe you a favour sooooo”, twirling a black clawed hand before poking Danny on the side of the head, black horns coated in white flames twisting up and back in a tight corkscrew off of the sides of Danny’s head. “Poof! Enjoy your Hellfire, I’m sure you’ll use it splendidly. Man you are one creative shit”, the whatever walking off a little, “and that temper! Really something else”, turning back around to face Danny, “you’re gonna go far, kid. Maybe send some poor saps my way every once a while though, would ya?”.

Danny tilting his head, “I’m not a killer”.

“Pah, figured. But well”, grinning wickedly, “everyone winds up here one day, one way or another. Ta-ta”, and waves as everything begins to be overtaken by the black lightning.

…

Sam and Tucker launching themselves on him seconds later, the lightning disappearing rapidly. “DANNY! IT WORKED! YOU’RE BACK!”. Then letting go of him only for Tucker to solidly punch him one on the shoulder.

Danny scowls at them, “Ancients you two. Couldn’t just let the dead lie huh?”.

Sam looks almost offended, “are you mad about that?!?”. Danny making a point to look pissed off before relenting, “you guys are idiots. I’m not even going to ask who Alastor and Fritz are”.

Tucker makes a face, “dude how the fuck did you?”. Danny shrugging, laying on the vaguely cold ground, “the Whatever thought it was very funny that you made deals with whoever”, putting his hands behind his head and eyeing them, “so what’s your end of your little bargains though?”. His friends look to each other, shrugging and looking back to him, “uh. A favour? In the future?”. Making Danny glare, “again idiots. Just for that, no hero shit all day from me”.

“Danny you can’t just ignore your duties!”.

“Dude, what the shit? You can’t just opt-out, dude”.

Danny rolls his eyes, sticking out his tongue at that. Their shit was gonna bite them in the ass so hard when whoever the fuck came knocking. But fuck it, whatever, they can fuck around and find out all they wanna. And he’ll be there to watch the shit show go down. Chuckling, “pretty sure that was Hell and also those were demons”. Sam rolls her eyes, obviously not giving half a fucking damn, and Tucker chuckles with a head shake, “well wonder what afterlife you’ll crop up in next, and- wait, dude! Do you have horns!”. And damn near straddles Danny to grab at them.

Sam absolutely takes a picture of Danny’s currently just black horns on just black hair with Tucker yanking on them. Until Danny figured out to make them go all white fire anyway, the geek falling back with a yelp. Danny sitting up, smirking, “Whatever was literally going to send me back here before y’all went and yanked my ass back by force”, shrugging, “apparently I’m too much of a chaotic pain in the ass to not keep kicking around to torture the living”.

Sam sighs, “only you, Danny. Only you”. While Tucker laughs, “Hell yeah! Literally!”. Sam throwing some of the chalk at him, “don’t you dare encourage jokes!”. Danny chuckling to himself before just… spitting fire at them. Making them look truly offended and grossed out; which he throws his head back and cackles at.

And then he absolutely goes and finds Boxy’s obnoxious ass. Shouting, “I went to Hell two good fights shy of kicking your ass two million times! So dance little man! Dance!”, and just starts chucking fire by the fistful at the ghost. The Box Ghost jumping and jerking around to avoid it is legit quite amusing.

---

The Whatever -they’ll go with that name, not as if their own was truly comprehensible- chuckles to themselves. What a child! Ended the world and eventually the universe all on his lonesome! Truly spectacular, and such a showman about it too! That one absolutely needed his own set of horns. Even if they didn’t get the chance to make a demon of him; oh well. There was always next time. And next time he might be a little more… malleable. After all ‘heroism’ -ha! as if that was truly a thing- always destroyed the so-called heroes. How’s that old saying go? Oh yes! You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain. And Daniel James Janus Fenton Phantom would live indeed. Oh yes he would. They can’t wait.

But…

Glancing over the bar, at the tall man in pinks and reds, “I’m surprised with you. What could you have to gain from those two mortals. Last I checked you only dealt with demons genuinely”.

“Oh those two? Why, didn’t you hear the news! Ha ha! The belle’s Undergrowth’s chosen, and the fellow? Why! He’s a reincarnated pharaoh! Interesting toys if I do say so myself. Yes Indeeny! And the half creature! A real charmer! Oh does he ever know how to wear a smile”.

The Whatever laughs at that. Alastor was hardly wrong. That one was a real comedian who mocked and pissed everyone off with a grin and a pun; and did so with some serious ingenuity and flare. What a truly interesting mortal, and an interesting mortal who’s now wielding a little taste of Hellfire himself.

End.

Prompts: It actually happened. Danny died. Fenton and Phantom were gone for good. Except his friends and sister refuse to accept it. They believe the universe owes them for everything they've been through and the number of times they've saved its sorry ass, so they turn to black magic to bring Danny back... From where? Is he the same as before, or has he changed? How? Is he grateful his friends brought him back, or does he resent them for calling him back to arms? and Danny dies, goes to hell, and comes back without a scratch.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2022 #danny fenton #Danny fucking dies #Hell #demons #going to hell #Danny's a little shit #fanfic #phanphic #My writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Fully Completely 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: On to part three. Sorry for being a human disaster.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Or it will move right through me

💀💀💀

Jerome annoyed you as he picked through your tool box and clicked the ratchet noisily. He was excited but impatient and complained that you were taking so long. You told him if he wanted to pay out of pocket for labour, you could finish faster.

You sat by his bike, parts strewn at your feet, and bent your head to look under the tank. You still had a lot to go and hadn’t yet added anymore of the gross chrome to the frame.

“Do you realise how filthy this is gonna get?” you huffed as you sat up and leaned your elbows on your legs, “not to mention how ridiculous it looks.”

“I like it. It’s just my style,” your brother grinned, “I don’t remember you spending this much time on Bucky’s ride and you and him--”

“He had me replace the tailpipe, you want nothing short of a rebuild,” you scoffed, “and you’re not the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, “guess it could be worse though. It could be Steve.”

“Thank god it’s not,” you chuckled, “I don’t know how many women had to toss beer in his face before he latched onto that mousy one at the bakery.”

“She’s nice,” Jerome shrugged, “far as I know. She doesn’t talk to anyone but Steve.”

“I wonder why,” you tisked, “he has insecurity written across his forehead.”

The tinny bell rang and the door whooshed open as the wind caught it. Jerome glanced over and dropped the ratchet noisily into the drawer of the tool box. You growled in warning as you spent much of your spare cash on those. He apologised quietly as he squared his shoulders at the man who appeared.

“Hey,” Bucky wiped the flakes from his hair and blew out a shiver.

“Bucky,” Jerome said rigidly.

The other man nodded and stepped further inside the garage. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced aimlessly around the concrete floor. You watched him as you fiddled with the bolt in your hand.

“You wanna head down to the bar?” It wasn’t a question as Bucky came to face you, “I gotta talk to your sister.”

“Sure,” Jerome replied sharply, “you got it, boss.”

Bucky grumbled and waited for him to leave. He sniffed and kicked his toe into the floor.

“So… what’re you doing here? Been a while so must be urgent,” you sat up on the rolling stool and stretched your back.

“The whole town’s talking about it. You fighting him,” his brows drew together, “I told you I’d take care of him.”

“You didn’t,” you said evenly, “so I did.”

“I talked to him--”

“And said what?” you snorted.

“Look, you don’t understand. You said it yourself, you don’t care about my business. You don’t get what’s going on but what I need from him is bigger than your temper.”

“Excuse me? This is my fault? He broke into my shop, he followed me from that diner and he put his hands on me,” you stood and tossed the bolt away, “what do you want me to do, Buck?”

“First, I want you to remind yourself who I am. We’re not fucking anymore so that mouth isn’t as cute,” he warned, “and I want you to play nice.”

“All you have to do is keep him away from me. How hard is that for a man like you, huh? You’re the big dog.”

“Watch it,” he pointed at you, “I won’t tell you again.”

“He’s here to deal with you, not me,” you insisted, “he grabbed me, I defended myself, and I’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t grade school anymore, you can’t fight the boys,” he sighed.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent as his jaw ticked and his blue eyes strayed to the ceiling. You stepped closer and gripped your hips as you stared him down.

“There’s nothing else I can do for you. Nothing else I will do. He’s your problem.”

He met your glare and you scoffed in disgust, “you’re fucking serious? What do these idiots have on you?”

“It’s not what they have on me, it’s what I want from them. I’m planning for something bigger than Birch, that means there’s gonna be some sacrifices,” he shrugged.

“Sacrifices? Is that what you call it? Well, here’s one for you, the next time you get a little scuff on your tank or your headlight starts to flicker, you can head down to Carl’s,” you scowled.

“Don’t do this,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I can get business without you. I do better work than Carl, you know that. So go, I’ll deal with that asshole on my own, how I see fit.”

He inhaled and lifted his chin. He closed his eyes and thought.

“Damn it,” he swore, “you can’t make anything fucking easy. What is it with you women and your god damn--” he lifted his hand and stopped himself, “you get in the way of my business, and you won’t be so worried about Loki.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what he said about you,” you mocked, “what’s with you men and your egos?”

His lip curled and he breathed through his teeth. His eyes lit up and he punched his palm as he turned away quickly.

“I hope he has his fun with you. Maybe he can fuck some sense into you,” Bucky growled, “God knows I tried.”

“You weren’t that good,” you snipped.

He kicked the shelf of wipers hung near the front of the shop and grunted. He stormed to the doorway and stopped to look back at you.

“You’ll be wishing it was me…” he hissed.

He waved you off and continued through the front door, slamming it behind him loudly. You stared at the scattered packages of wipers and bit down on your tongue. You wanted to run out and strangle that idiot but you knew how he could be. It was the reason you broke off your little fling; he was too much like you. Hard-headed and volatile.

💀

You weren’t going to change just because the town was overrun by asshole men. You were standing your ground and that meant you were going to finish your club sandwich and enjoy one lunch without interruption.

The café was busier that day as the snowfall dwindled and the streets were mostly cleared as the plows made their regular rounds. You looked through the window as the school kids stopped by the bakery for hot drinks on their lunch and circled the rim of your mug with your fingertip. You sensed it was only the lull before the storm.

Further down you could see the corner of The Asp and heard a rumbling engine. Your shop remained empty except for Jerome’s bike. Since Bucky’s visit, you were too worked up to concentrate anyway. You wanted to take your wrench and knock every man in town in the head with it.

Nora brought your sandwich as Kimmie didn’t work on the weekends and your side of soup. You would eat both and leave satisfied. You wouldn’t let anyone ruin your day off. Well, not that you had very much to do aside from that.

You dipped your crusts in the tomato soup and stared at the seat across from you. Empty. Perfect.

You scooped the last of the bowl into your mouth and wiped your lips with the napkin. You stood and gulped up your coffee. You left money on the table and headed out. A peaceful, solitary lunch all to yourself.

You skipped the shop and continued down the street. You pushed into the hobby shop you rarely ventured into, more a bookshop if you were honest. You greeted the man at the counter with a smile. When you were a girl, you remembered he ordered you a special set of paints as the ones in his store were all dried up. Lu, you recalled his name.

You went to the shelves of models and looked over the new arrivals. You took the Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am off the shelf and smirked. Your father had one just like it when you were a kid. It wasn’t exactly new. You grabbed a bottle of black paint with it, always running low on the stuff, and headed for the counter.

Lu punched the buttons on his till and you heard a creak. Light footsteps emerged from the basement of used books as you opened your wallet.

“I didn’t take you as bookish,” Loki’s voice made you cringe.

You didn’t answer and counted out the bills for your purchase, “actually, you got any glue? I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“Hmm, oh,” Lu turned and bent to reach into a box, “haven’t stocked up but these came in just before the storm.”

He added the orange and white tube to your bag and you added another bill. He counted out your change and handed it to you.

“Quite interesting what small towns can hide,” Loki didn’t wait to step up to counter and stood close, his sleeve against yours, “An antique edition of Whitman. One of the only Americans I read.”

You looked down at the worn tome, the edges fraying and the letters faded. It was marked up to a couple hundred. You could appreciate a love for reading but you weren’t entirely sure some old paper was worth all that.

“I’ll need the reading material as my visit has been prolonged,” he mused as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, “my brother is due to return so I will stay in his place… get to know the town of Birch more intimately.”

You hid your disgust at his words and continued out the door. His exaggerated tones stuck in your head as you passed the window and absently swung your bag. You hated him. You really did. You should have bashed him over the head with that dumb book.

You thought of that day in the snow and smiled. You knew that shame lingered in him. You would have no problem repeating that scene.

You came up to your shop and stopped short. The burly redhead who arrived with the pestilent man stood at your door, peering in through the window, angling his head as he tried to see around the blinds. You cleared your throat as you neared.

“Something I can help you with?” you asked dully.

“Oh, ah,” he turned and laughed at himself, “I thought… Loki, I thought he’d be here.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” you said, “he’s down at the book shop.”

“Thanks. He apologise?” He prodded.

“You seem to know him well. You think he did?” you challenged.

“Ah, nah,” he smiled awkwardly, “s’pose he didn’t.”

“S’pose he didn’t,” you echoed, “it would be smart if you kept him away from here.”

“Yeah, uh, should do,” he sidled past you and you listened to his heavy boots clump along the beaten snow.

You took out your key and unlocked the door. You closed it quickly behind you, that man’s presence set you on edge. He hadn’t shown any of the venom of his associate but he was loyal to him. You double checked the locks on all the doors and made certain all windows were closed.

You went up stairs into your apartment and stripped off your coat and boots. You sat at the small table where you ate those dinners you didn’t forget and unpacked your new model. You sorted the pieces and spread out the instructions. The image of the car on the box brought back nostalgic memories. You wouldn’t know all you did about bikes if it wasn’t for your dad. You missed him every day for the last… too many years.

You lost yourself in the tiny parts. You hunched over the table and carefully dabbed glue onto the plastic. Your eyes began to itch as the windows dimmed and you got up to turn on the lamp. You kept building well after dark and finally left the half-finished car on the table.

You stretched out your limbs as you stripped down to only your loose tee and yawned. You fell into bed and turned on the old tube television. You hit play on the VCR and the loud previews blared from the boxy speakers. You rolled yourself in your comforter and sat through the same movie trailers you’d watched a dozen times.

You were never a romantic but you the movie was another shadow of your childhood. Your grandma used to watch Kathleen Turner whenever you went to her place. She would serve you yogurt and berries and turn on the cheesy action flick and if you slept over, she would put in the sequel right after.

Your rituals kept you sane. You found it was easier to know what to expect and given your temper, it was better not to be surprised. You were always the trouble child and you regretted all those times your dad had to come talk to the principal or walk you home from school. You promised him you would be better.

Still you didn’t regret what you did. He always told you to stand up for yourself. Hell, he taught you how to throw a punch and all your best insults were inherited from him. You smiled as you thought of him and hugged your pillow as the intro played and the credits flicked up one name at a time.

You drifted off in the glow of the television and the sound effects sank into your dreams. You were still in Birch but thick vines had grown around all the buildings and billowing leaves shrouded the skies. The town had turned to jungle and you could hear the growls and grunts of beasts unseen.

You spun as a twig snapped and a snake uncoiled from a branch and fell into the brush at your feet. You stepped back and it slithered towards you. You stumbled and ran away as you could hear its skin smoothly glide through the grass at your feet. You tripped as its long body wrapped around your ankles and you crashed to the ground.

You struggled as the snake constricted your body and wound its neck around to face you. Its green eyes shone as its black scales gleamed. Its tongue flicked against your cheek and you felt its hot breath as it opened its mouth and revealed long, frightening fangs. You screamed as its bite loomed and you woke with a start.

The visions of the wild jungle faded but the heat did not. You blinked as an amber haze took over the room and you fought through your messy blankets and tumbled onto the floor. Your curtains were alight along with much of the wall. You bachelor was blazing with orange flames and you could barely see the door through the smoke.

You coughed and scrambled to your feet. Your eyes streamed and you blindly ran for the door and flew down the stairs. The shop was almost entirely engulfed as you reached the lower landing and you fumbled with the front door as flames licked closer and closer.

You burst out into the frozen night and your feet were numbed by the ice and snow. You retreated from the burning building, your life set aflame, and turned back as you reached the sidewalk. Sirens screamed and made you wince as you crossed your arms and chattered against the cold.

“Pity,” the slither made your skin crawl, “though I suppose it is a blessing you at least saved yourself.”

You glanced at Loki as your vision blurred with the tears of realisation. Everything you had was turning to ash before you. You blinked away the droplet and sneered at him. He smirked and you knew. He smirked and he knew. It wasn’t an accident.

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