#tmc fanfiction

[acab-mothman]

read my new jonadam fic guys

[treatsf]

I went on my ao3 to check something and I saw there was stuff in my inbox and

IM SORRY MY FANS. IM SORRY MY FANS MORE CONTENT IS COMING SOON!!!! YOU WILL BE FED I SWEARRR!!!!!! /j

[emma045]

[wisteria15]

DESPAIRDUO HURT/COMFORT!?!?

Thatcher, stood outside leaning against the cold, rough brick wall of the MCPD. Beside him, Adam sat down idly on the floor, staring up at the bleak, gloomy night sky. It had been tough for both of them after all the shit that went down back at Adam's place. Adam was still scarred, they both knew that. His life had been flipped upside down, the guilt of his past wrongful actions crushed his self-worth, and his new unwelcome body had completely shut him down. He would rarely speak, and his monotone words would only rasp vague responses towards Thatcher's questions.

Thatcher knew how it felt to get his identity snatched away from him, to be replaced and pushed away from his friends. But it wasn't the same for Adam. Adam is the replacement, Adam was the one who pushed his friends away. He had no control over it. It was all wrong, but it was never truly him. Adam was stupid and blind, always under the influence of alternates. Yet over the last three days, Thatcher yearned for Adam to regain his self-worth, to love himself, to see how he's not a sadistic alternate and how he's much more than just a cog in the machine.

The demons belittled him, they mocked his parental care and love for a criminal that was of the same species which had murdered his best friends in cold blood and single-handedly destroyed the population of Mandela County.

Calmly, Thatcher gazed up at the sky, taking comfort from the cigarette that was in between his fingers. There was no sound. No cars, birds or people. no anything that made a place lively. He continued smoking, and the smell of tobacco filled the cold air. It stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Give me one."

"Huh?" He quickly looked down to his left in surprise.

"Please."

"Adam...?" He didn't expect that. At least not so soon. Adam had never outright demanded for something. Especially something like a cigarette. He'd isolated himself and always felt ashamed whenever Thatcher made an attempt to talk to him. As if he himself was nothing but a burden.

This excited Thatcher even more. Although it was a surprising request, it was an opportunity to finally connect with Adam.

"You... You want a cigarette...?"

"Yes." Adam looked up at him. his face was blank and serious as always. Except his eyes had hints of lingering desperation. As if he needed this badly. Thatcher was weak. He couldn't say no, especially to Adam.

"Alright, kid." He reluctantly handed over a cigarette. Despite his eagerness before, he almost regretted saying yes. He knew the dangers of smoking and Adam's body seemed fragile, especially internally. The night when all his bones broke and snapped was burned in his brain. It trapped his mind from sleeping every night, including today. His desperate attempt of setting all of Adam's bones back in place and wrapping it up in very bare cloth only healed him a bit, that was something Thatcher felt slightly felt proud of. Yet, that entire interaction haunted him, every single moment during the day and the night.

"But, why?" He couldn't help himself, if he wanted to understand Adam, he'd need to make the most of every interaction between them.

Curiously, he waited for his answer. The night grew colder and the silence drew out. Adam's blinding white irises stared at him thoughtfully. Awkwardly, Thatcher shifted uncomfortably and his gaze dropped a few times before quickly reciprocating his eye contact. He couldn't mess this up, not now. It was unbearably silent, but he knew he had to stay patient. And so he did.

Finally, Adam blinked out of his trance and looked down.

"I want..." He sighed sadly.

"...to feel... Again." He tensed up and folded in on himself with his long arms wrapped around his legs and his head buried in his naked chest. He shuddered miserably and went stiff. The cigarette was still in his hand, but it was crushed from the pressure of his fingers.

Thatcher's heart sank. He felt so much determination for him. He knew how he felt. For the past 17 years, his only shred of hope was Dave, but nothing felt complete. He never felt whole.

"Oh kid..." He muttered out of sympathy, he reached out for him but immediately retreated his hand. He didn't want to disturb him but he wanted to comfort him so badly.

Instead, he slowly crouched in front of him.

"What do you feel like right now?" He asked gently, keeping his voice low.

"Empty, as if... I'm starving... But not of hunger." He quietly said, still crouched in his stiff, painful position. He never looked up, but Thatcher still tried.

"Y'know, drugs isn't the way to feel better," "and I know it's quite hypocritical of me to say that, but don't take me as an example." His words were gentle and calm. Thatcher shifted into a more comfortable cross-legged position, facing Adam.

"I-I'm not trying to lecture you, kid. But, I... am here for you." Adam's entire body slightly jumped from that in surprise. It was a good sign. Thatcher continued.

"I know that things... Haven't been the best for us, but, I care for you. I... am not scared of you, not at all, kid." Adam shivered and trembled, Thatcher could hear the poor boy catching his breath.

"Stop it." He pleaded, voice breaking. Thatcher reached his hand out, softly patting his hair.

"Listen, you've had your identity ripped apart from you. I know how that feels."

"Shut up."

"And-"

"Shut UP." Adam's voice distorted even more at that last word, breaking and trembling out of anger. Thatcher scooted closer and began to soothingly ruffle his hair. Thatcher continued when he felt Adam relax from it.

"You've been wronged, Adam, by THEM. You're also a victim, no matter what you think."

"NO! I am THEM. I wronged OTHERS." He sobbed, his head finally turned up at Thatcher. Half his face was still covered by his lanky legs but his eyes and nose bridge was visible.

He could do this, he was finally making progress. His heart ached for the poor, weeping alternate in front of him.

"Adam..." He slowly moved his hand down to wipe his tears. Adam flinched suddenly, his eyes widened in shocked.

"Lieutenant, why?" He asked shakily.

"Why are you doing this... For ME?" He still cried continuously

"Because you deserve it, kid. No one deserves to go through what you're living right now. You have regrets, I know. So do I, but you can resolve them. I know you can." Now Adam was fully facing him, his entire body was relaxed and Thatcher continued to rub his face gently.

"You are so much more than what those alternates say you are. You... are much more human than me." "I-I have ruined lives myself," He thought of Ruth. He thought of the Heathcliffs. He thought of every single phone call that he never went and helped.

Adam stared at him in awe. The tears stopped.

"And I will NOT fail you too, kid." He declared confidently. His heart pounded hard and he locked eyes with Adam, his gaze never wavered.

For a moment, it was silent. Thatcher slowly put his hand down next to him. His pulse raced quicker, had he made a mistake?

Suddenly, Adam lunged at him, all muscles tense. Thatcher gasped and froze, his heart skipped a beat. Why? He's different, he's not a normal alternate!

Unexpectedly, Thatcher felt two boney, long arms wrapped around his torso and his vision was blocked by a flat, thin-skinned chest. He felt a surprisingly light weight on his legs.

"Kid...?"

"Thank you...So much, lieutenant..." Adam mumbled, if it weren't for how close they were he probably wouldn't have heard it. Thatcher's heart bloomed inside, and he gladly hugged him, feeling his cold, almost-watery back and his slightly protruding spine.

Adam eased up in his arms, carefully resting his pointy chin on top of Thatcher's head. Thatcher exhaled in relief and enjoyed the heartfelt moment.

The night continued its gloom above their heads but they weren't afraid, not anymore. Thatcher reflected back on the nightmarish encounter back at Adam's home. Ever since that, he felt even more despair whirling in his heart. But now, he felt like his youthful self back in the 1990s, full of hope and determination.

Everything had changed again, but not for the worst. Now, Thatcher finally had a goal, to not fail his kid and to protect him forever in this merciless world. He'd no idea where these overprotective, parental feelings came from, but, he knew he always wanted a kid.

Adam's grip tightened on him and his breathing became even. Thatcher smiled genuinely and reached his arm out full-length to pat Adam's head.

"Come on, kid," He softly whispered. "Time for bed."

[ghostly-bastard-artchive]

Heyyyyyyyy, long time no aaaaaart, have Cesar as na apology

[1-800-moondust]

Cesar Torres x GN! Reader (Platonic Headcanons)

Requested by: @laturacai

Cesar is definitely a momma's boy and it's understandable since his mom is so nice.

Whenever you come over to his house, his mom immediately rushes over to you and hugs you before asking if you’re hungry

I could see Cesar being a pretty popular guy so he gets invited to a lot of parties

But he’d rather hang out with you and Mark

Cesar is a extrovert so he’s constantly asking you and Mark to come and hang out with him

Whether it be at the mall, eating at a nearby restaurant, or having a sleepover at his or Mark’s place

I could see Cesar being really bad at all video games except for Mario Kart and he abuses it

Either way he’s just happy to hang out with his friends :)

Y’all could be stuck in a room with no windows or doors and he would still have a good time as long as he got to do it with y'all

Once the alternates come along he doesn’t really react much

Like yeah it's weird, but what’s the possibility of something happening to y’all?

Though he’s concerned about his mom since she seemed very scared by all the events going on recently

During one of Mark’s sleepovers, Cesar and you were play Mario Kart and he was kicking your ass

Mark watched the two of y’all play as he stuffed popcorn into his mouth and laughed whenever one of y’all got hit by something

That was until Mark’s home phone went off cutting off y’alls laughter

Mark just rolled his eyes and got up to answer it

Just a few moments later Mark rushed back in and handed the phone over to Cesar

And just like that, Cesar was quickly packing up and wishing you two goodbye

You escorted him outside as he got inside his car

You offered to come with him as moral support since he said that his mom had called him all shaken up

But Cesar refused, telling you that he'll tell you all about it in the morning once he got back home

He gave you a hug and a small uncertain smile

He never came back

Alt! Cesar

The banging was constant and ear shatteringly loud

It begged and cried for you to let it in claiming that it was Cesar

But you knew better, the thing outside your door was nothing but a cheap imitation of your best friend

For the first day all he did was slam on your door and scream for you to let him in

On the second day it begged and constantly knocked on the door

With the final day the only thing you could hear was his wailing and scratching

Despite it being a mimic you started to feel bad since it sounded like it was having a mental break down or something

You couldn’t take it any longer and opened the door seeing ‘Cesar’ curled up on the floor

But once it seemed to notice that the door was open, it quickly jumped up and hugged you tightly

It took you a few minutes for you to pry the alternate off of you

After a hour of interrogation you learned that the alternate had wanted to learn about you since it had learned that you were friends with the person he was imitating

You agreed to take him in as long as he protected you from other alternates in the area

Cesar quickly took the offer and adapted

He was ‘strange’ to say the least since he wasn’t human and didn’t understand social cues very well

You told him stories about the wild hijinks you, Mark, and Cesar had gotten up to when he was alive

Cesar seemed enthralled with the stories you would tell him and would look at you with wonder every time you told him one

He asked tons of questions about anything and everything

Birds? Windmills? Books? What the hell are those?

He’s excited to see the world and all the new wonderful things in it

And he’s happy to experience it with you

Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun with this one hence why it's a little long. But an extra thanks to @laturacai for requesting it in the first place!

[the-haunted-walkman]

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed

(( first song))

𝔸𝕝𝕓𝕦𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒 ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

[wednesdaythesecond]

do you ship travkey? do you like trans people? do you like t4t ships? do you want to teach the controversy? do you like my writing? well here you go <3

[goose-duck]

I thought the last req was pretty cool , I have one slightly based off of that if that’s okay. Same concept of Jonah running after the argument except Sarah or Adam finds Jonah like half-dead in the middle of nowhere

i see I've been prompted to write the last request properly hehe. I got carried away and made the last one very Adam centric. This one is all abt Jonah though!!

~~~~~~

☀️ don't leave me 🌙

👁️ Mandela Catalogue fanfic 🌺

💔Angst💔 to 💝Comfort💝

~~~~~~

Jonah was rushing through the woods away from his van which he'd parked on the side of the highway. That voice, that thing, it wouldn't shut up. It kept telling him he'd killed Adam, left his best friend to die. Jonah already felt shitty for leaving Adam but this thing was just pressing him further.

Jonah had almost killed himself initially when he'd pulled over on the side of the road but managed to throw the knife into the van and run off, overpowering those thoughts, but for how long? Jonah just kept running, tree branches hitting him, scratching him, making him bleed. He kept dripping over tree roots and small bushes, he just had to get away, he couldn't stay here any longer.

Jonah eventually got tired, leaning against a tree, sliding down it to the forest floor. He's covered in cuts and bruises, he's bleeding a bit but it's nothing sever for now. He'd need to get his wounds cleaned or they get infected. On top of his physical wounds he's hurting mentally, he left his only friend to die, he was alone, completely and totally alone.

Or so he thought.

Jonah hears that annoying voice again, telling him to kill himself, to punish himself for the death of his friend, to join Adam in the afterlife and appologize for killing him. Jonah screamed, wanting the voice to leave him, he tried to get up and run but his body was too weak. All he could do was sit there and wait for it to kill him as he heard it getting closer.

Eventually he sees it, this distorted nun, she look at him, continuing with her barrage of cruel words and thoughts, though not actually attacking Jonah. Jonah starts to break down at the sight of that creature, it's terrifying face along with the horrible things it's telling him weighing heavily on his mind.

Jonah slowly starts to crawl away, trying to escape her but he's too hurt to walk, his ankle bruised to hell and not responding when he tried to tell it move. Jonah tries to escape but he can't, it just slowly follows him around repeating that he should kill himself, that he killed Adam, that he's got no one, he's all alone.

Jonah finally breaks, going over to a tree and bashing his head against it repeatedly, making his nose and foreheads bleed. He continues this, trying to kill himself by blunt force.

Adam saw the knife in the BPS van, no blood, no Jonah. Adam was worried, but not overly sure what had happened and still consumed with his own thoughts about himself. Adam shook that off though, realizing Jonah's more important right now, he can deal with his sense of self later. Given everything Adam's seen Jonah could still be alive.

Adam gets in the van, starting to drive down the highway, thinking maybe Jonah ran along the highway to get to a town. After a while of this though Adam parks the van on the side of the road, getting out and standing around, taking in the fresh air and thinking.

Adam feels this pull towards the forest. He finds it off but follows the strange urge deep into the forest.

Adam wonders a bit before hearing thuds, it sounds like something hitting a tree. Adam goes to the sound, seeing Jonah bashing his head into a tree, his face covered in blood. Adam rushes to Jonah he grabbing him and pulling away from the tree.

"Jonah!? What the hell!? Stop!! What the fuck are you doing!?" Adam screams at Jonah, holding him tightly so he can't hurt himself further.

Jonah looks at Adam, not believing he's real. Jonah starts to cry and thrash around in Adam's arms. "You aren't real!! You aren't him!! Let me go! Let me die!! Let me be with him! I killed him!! I killed my best friend!!" Jonah screams, his voice breaking.

Adam holds Jonah tighter, "what the fuck are you on about? I thought you were dead! Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fuck is wrong with you, Jonah!?" Adam yells at Jonah, he sounds pissed of but really he's just worried, it's distressing to see anyone try to kill themself, it's even worse when it's someone who you've spent many of your days with. "Jonah... please calm down.." Adam still sounds annoyed but he's trying to be gentle.

"let me see your head... you're bleeding badly..." Adam gently brushes Jonah's hair out of his face, gently holding Jonah's head in place so he can get a good look at the injury. Adam goes to touch the injury but Jonah flinches away. Adam pulls back, opting to just hold Jonah in his arms until he calms down enough that he can take him back to the van.

Jonah keeps crying, having a hard time believing Adam is really there. As Adam holds him though he slowly starts to calm down, feeling Adam's warm embrace, hearing his gentle speech yet rude words, it's him, it's Adam. Jonah starts to calm down, he's still crying a little from the pain of his injuries but he's relaxing in Adam's hold, leaning more into him.

Adam notices this and reminds Jonah to stay awake as he has a head injury, " you can't sleep now, Jonah...you could have a concussion or something.." Adam mumbles into Jonah's ear. Jonah nods in response, trying to stand up so they can go back to the van but whining in pain and collapsing when he feels the sharp pain from his heavily bruised ankle.

Adam goes to take a look at Jonah's ankle, gently rolling Jonah's torn pant leg up a bit. It's bruised and bleeding, probably broken, though hopefully only sprained. "Jonah...this is bad...we need to get you to a hospital." Jonah says concerned.

"it..hurts a lot..." Jonah responds pitifully. Adam gently holds Jonah's cheek, rubbing away some of his tears, "you're gonna be okay...okay..?" Adam says, finally speaking softly with no coldness in his tone, just worry for his friend. Jonah nods at him, leaning into his touch.

Adam gently picks up Jonah, holding him over his shoulder like a firefighter as he finds it to be the easiest. Adam quickly rushes back out of the forest and to the van, setting Jonah in the passenger seat and quickly getting in the driver's seat, speeding off to the first hospital he can find.

Jonah starts to pass out a bit in the passenger seat. Adam sees this out of the corner of his eye, gently hitting Jonah on the chest once to wake him back up. Jonah let's out a whine but stays awake enough to be considered conscious.

Adam hears Jonah's pained whine and feels a sting in his heart, if he hasn't told Jonah to leave none of this would be happening, Jonah and him would probably be bickering over pizza or something stupid like that. Adam gently holds Jonah's hand, trying to give him some form of comfort while still focusing on driving.

Adam squeezes Jonah's hand a bit, hoping Jonah will squeeze back to show he's still alive. Jonah squeeze Adam's hand weakly. Adam let's out a soft sigh of relief. Adam does this every few minutes while searching for a hospital to sure Jonah's still with him, he has a mini heart attack every time Jonah takes a little longer than usual to squeeze back.

Eventually Adam finds a hospital, driving straight up to the ER and flagging down some staff. The hospital workers rush out and grab Jonah, rushing him inside. A nurse directs Adam to a waiting room, giving him a glass of water and asking some questions about what happened and if hes hurt too.

Adam answers everything the best he can, also confirming that he's unharmed. After a few hours a nurse come back into the waiting room with good news, telling Adam Jonah is okay and will make a full recovery. The whole time Adam had been sitting there he was extremely stressed, unknowingly holding his breath. Now knowing Jonah is okay he lets out a deep sigh of relief, asking if he can go see Jonah. The nurse shows him to Jonah's room, telling him to be quiet as Jonah is resting.

Adam walks in the dimly lit room, grabbing a chair and setting it beside Jonah's bed. Adam looks at Jonah's bandaged ankle and face, lingering on his face, talking in how handsome he looks even when beaten. Still the same Jomah, suspiciously good looking even in the worst of situations. Adam gently takes Jonah's hand, squeezing it lightly. Jonah squeezed back, smiling a little in his sleep. Adam smiles back at the sleeping man, laying his head against the bed near Jonah's hand, allowing himself to rest too now.

Adam is just happy Jonah's okay, everything else can wait. He can deal with himself some other time, he doenst need to worry Jonah while he's healing.

Adam drifts off into a light sleep, ready for when Jonah wakes up.

[cowprintsillies]

Just realised i never promoted my Mandela crack fic who even am i anymore

Summary:

Somewhere in an alternate (ha) universe, Mark and ‘Cesar’s’ phone call goes a little differently. It had not anticipated Mark being busy.

“What do you mean you’re at soup.”

or: i realised how well this meme fits and how could i not do something about that?

[ghostliest-ghosty-ghost-bastard]

Not escaping the dead allegations, yall, but at least we got a chapter.

[emma045]

[wisteria15]

DESPAIRDUO ANGST!? #1

Thatcher should've expected this, especially from an alternate. Still, his mind was conflicted with mixed thoughts, confusion and fear. He stumbled backwards clumsily; his heart pounded heavier each second. His only support was the cold, cracked wall behind him. He could hear the pleads and apologies directed towards him but his eyes watered at the sight of the alternate whose face formed a triggering memory.

It was Adam. Or, was Adam. His once short, curly hair was longer, straighter and blond with brown roots and his paper-white skin had turned caucasion. His unhuman, misshaped eyes which once had black scleras and shining, white irises had changed into a naturally downturned shape with regular scleras and soft green irises. the alternate's voice had deepened drastically and continued his panicked apologies to Thatcher. Still, Thatcher couldn't process the boy's words of remorse when all he could hear was his own voice mimicked back to him. Adam was still unnaturally tall and skinny, but his entire face had changed. Leaving an uncanny mockery of Thatcher's own appearance staring back at him. Everything of Adam was gone.

It was just like the Night in September, back in 1992.

[ghostly-bastard-artchive]

I forgor (TMC Fanfic)

_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†_†

Do you ever forget something that you KNOW you know? Like when you write something so many times it's a given, a muscle memory. Doing it over and over and knowing it as a part of you.

Then your muscles just, , , don't remember.

Muscles not remembering something is such a weird thought though, cause that's the thing, they don't have thoughts, his chest isn't deciding to move up and down.

I mean yeah, there are electric impulses through the flesh, and that is all thoughts really are when you get all "existential" and nitpicking about it but, , , it's different. There's probably a science behind that somewhere, how muscle memory works.

He doesn't know, and even if he did it didn't help any now, as he grips the pen.

It was fucking stupid, to be scared this fucking sticky piece of paper. His chest stalled with his breath. He grips the pen harder in his hand, hard enough that his hands are sweaty and that it creaks a bit. This was insane, it was the worst. The paper still stared blank tho, offensive.

Just, just write it down, he tells himself. Fucking, write it down and move on with it. How could he not remember it?! It's just, that's something you KNOW, and how could he not? Was his chest even moving? He knew who he was, what he was here to do and just, , , just write it down, fucking write it down. His chest wasn't moving, how could it be moving, it didn't know to move, cause it didn't know anything and it didn't know what it was and-

"Adam, dude, the fuck is taking so long?"

Adam looks up. There was air in his lungs. He was breathing. Air, air in his lungs like there were supposed to be. They were moving again cause that's what they were supposed to do and it knew that.

Jonah stands there, an eyebrow raised and that stupid fucking lopsided grin on his face as he waits for an answer. His stupid fucking silver hair all falling in his face, and wearing that sweater that smell like a walking drug bust.

Jonah gestures to Adam again.

" Dude, you still a little~?" Jonah made a motion with his hand like he would be pulling a cigarette away from his mouth, a muscle memory for him, probably, those fingers with the black chipped nails had done it enough times. You could probably guess that about him without even knowing Jonah like Adam did.

Adam pulled a scowl on his face and shook his head, bending his head to write as Jonah snorted that stupid light laugh that sounds like he'd never been on the ground long enough to hurt.

"Hi, my name is- _____"

Adam scribbles down "Adam", slapping the sticker on and dashing after Jonah, bumping shoulders with him in the way only friends do and Jonah going to ruffle his hair, Adam easily dodging it with a grumble and Jonah with a laugh, both of them walking further into the building.

[fizzzyz]

Mandela Calamity

Volume 1 part 2 of my tmc au :]

It’s kinda slow in some parts and I’m still working on my writing so critique is appreciated as long as it isn’t rude!

CW: I don’t think there are any warnings for this part? Tell me if I should add some but I dunno

How long has it been now? It feels like an endless episode of misery, a surreal nightmare that tears through your heart. It felt like as if decades had passed, but it also felt like yesterday. Will it ever end? I don’t even feel like myself anymore. Whoever I used to be is long gone in the past. A past I crave to return to. To the happy days. Days when we spent every moment together. And all of that got swept away from us. Snatched by something twisted and sinister, finding pleasure in our agony. I can’t stand being away from you. Why do I even keep fighting, knowing I’ll never see you again?

Yet every day I pray; I pray and hope for you to appear in the doorway, the doorway I stare into for hours per day. I pray for the impossible. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. I see your face everywhere, but you aren’t there. I feel your presence anywhere I go, is this you? Or is it only my desperate mind losing its grasp on reality? I’m losing my faith in everything, my family, my friends, myself, God. It’s not fair. Please come back to me. My chest is a gaping hole without you. I don’t feel human anymore. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. It's not fair. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me. Please come back to me.

Marilyn woke up and quickly sat up, her heart racing and breath heavy. She felt like a dead frozen corpse yet sweat was still running from her face. She glared into the nothingness of the plain white wall in front of her. It took a while for her to process where she was and what had happened. Everything felt completely alien to her for a short while. She slowly began to calm down and her heart started returning to a more normal pace.

“Good morning, Mary.” Mary heard her sister say from across the room, sitting in a sofa and reading a news article. “Another nightmare I suppose?” Anna continued as she turned the page of her newspaper. Mary looked at her before looking away again. She couldn’t really remember anything. All she could remember from her dream was a blurry image of her daughter. Just like all of the other dreams. Nothing out of the ordinary. At least of what she knew. As soon as she wakes up all memories of her dreams vanish every time.

“I guess.” She muttered and threw the blanket to the side as she got out of bed. She didn’t feel so happy about waking up in a motel room right now, especially in Mandela County. She’d prefer to be in her own house and own bed. But she had to do all of this for her sister. Her eyes shifted to the nightstand where the digital clock stood, 9:13, later than she thought it was. It was a pretty long day yesterday and it took what felt like eternity to fall asleep. She would’ve felt like a wreck if she woke up earlier.

She still felt exhausted from all of her feelings, which seemed to bite harder now when she was in the place she swore to never come back to. “I got breakfast for you, when you’re done, we’re going to the town center …would be good if I found a job right away.” Anna noted and continued looking through her newspaper she had been reading. Mary looked over to her and saw a tray with a sandwich and coffee standing on the table next to Anna. She didn’t feel hungry, but she still had to eat. Letting out a sigh, she wandered over to the table, took a seat and grabbed her sandwich. It looked squished and old, like as if it had been in a freezer for two weeks. She took a bite out of it despite her lack of appetite, it didn’t taste very good, and it was pretty chewy.

Anna stood outside the motel on the parking lot beside her car, waiting for Marilyn to finish and come down. It took a good while. Normally Anna was always the late one, but their roles were reversed now. Anna glanced over the horizon. The morning sun had risen, and the sky was a nice pastel blue with only a few clouds to be seen. The breeze felt nice, it was neither too cold nor too warm. Just like what any other early September day felt like, except for the rainy days. Finally, after about 8 minutes Marilyn came rushing out of the motel to Anna in the parking lot. She seemed frustrated and tired.

Anna sighed and unlocked the car “Took you long enough.”. Both of them got into the car and put their seatbelts on in a hurry. “Says the one who’s always late.” Mary replied after she got in. Anna chuckled and smiled. “Not this time though!” She started the car and the old engine started running. She drove out of the parking lot and out on the road, on their way to the town center. It was only a 5-minute drive as the town wasn’t very big. Anna searched for a good parking lot, which wasn’t too hard to find either. She quickly parked the car and got out of it in a rush like an excited child. Mary, on the other hand, was in no hurry at all, she didn’t understand why Anna was rushing everything.

“Are you stressed?” She questioned while getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. “No, I just really want to get a job as soon as possible.” Anna replied and stepped onto the sidewalk. “Well, geez you don’t need to rush, it’s not like the jobs won’t be there tomorrow as well. And I mean, we have almost the whole day on us!” Mary said, hoping it would calm Anna’s mind, for both of their sakes. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” Anna walked at a fast pace anyway, completely ignoring Mary’s advice. Mary sighed as they walked together on the sidewalk. She had a feeling this day wasn’t going to be a calm and peaceful one.

They had been in 2 stores already, but no job so far. They either didn’t need it, or Anna just didn’t meet the requirements. It only made her stress worse, which also made Mary feel stressed. “Mary, look at this sign!” Anna shouted as she had stopped in front of a sign tilted against a lamp post. Mary glanced over at her, and then walked over to where she was standing near the sign. Open 9-19, looking for part-time workers. Golden oddities market. There was an arrow underneath the text, pointing towards the road to their right. It wasn’t a store Mary recognized, it was a long time since she last was here, but she still remembered most of the stores.

“Come on!” Anna grabbed Mary’s hand and without warning she pulled her with her down the road the said store was. Mary almost fell over as she did and stumbled quickly across the road to keep up. “Anna!!” Mary yelled as she kept pulling and dragging. “I can walk by myself you know!” Anna finally let go of Mary’s hand when they had reached the shop. There was a sign above it, Golden oddities market, gems you can’t find anywhere else. There were two big windows on each side of the entrance, and a bunch of products stood as displays in them. Anna pushed the door open, and a bell rang as she entered. Mary went in after her, her eyes shifting at every strange thing she could see in there. Weird sculptures, games she had never heard of, pirated VHS movies, old Gameboys, weird equipment for cameras and such, and way more odd stuff you don’t normally see in stores filled the shelves. The store wasn’t very big, but it still had so much stuff, it almost made her feel dizzy.

She noticed her sister had already started making her way towards the cashier counter, and she hurried over to her. An old man, probably in his 60s, sat behind the counter solving a crossword. He had long beautiful gray hair, it looked like strands of silver as it glittered in the light. He was wearing a red cap with a retro label and had a fit looking like it was taken straight out of the 80s. His clothes were colorful and pretty, but didn’t fit that well together. There was another counter against the wall behind the counter, where he seemed to have a tiny workshop with tools and such. A dog, a really old German shepherd, was sleeping on a big and comfy red dog bed that was placed on the workshop counter, which also had a little ramp that led up to it.

“Excuse me?” Anna said and stepped a little closer to the counter. The old man looked up and put down the pen he was holding. “I’m looking for a job, and I saw the sign you had put up.” She explained, as she hoped that she would get it. The old man looked at her for a while before he replied. “You seem older than the usual, mostly teens come here to work for the summer. But that’s no problem.” He said and sat up straight. “Is this… shop new here? I haven’t seen it before, from what I remember.” Marilyn asked as she stood next to Anna. The old man looked at Mary as if she said she saw aliens, he seemed almost offended. “New? I’ve owned this store since I had color in my hair!”

Mary felt a little embarrassed, she didn’t want this to be her first impression if Anna was going to work here. “Oh- I’m so sorry, I haven’t been here in so long.” “You don’t live here?” He asked as he folded the newspaper, he was doing his crossword on. “We’re from Bythorne, we used to live here about 10 years ago.” Anna replied and forced a smile, she didn’t have time for small talk, she just wanted this job already.

The man leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Hmph, I’ve owned this store for about 25 years. But what brings you back to your hometown?” Anna looked at Mary for a short moment before she looked back at the man. “I just need a fresh start with a new job. Nothing special.” She replied. “About the job?” She continued, already feeling a little frustrated because of her stress. The man nodded and sat up straight again as he opened a drawer behind the counter. “This week you can come in Thursday, and you might as well stick for Friday and Saturday if you want a better paycheck. With shifts for about 3-4 hours.” He said and looked through the drawer he had pulled out. “Is there any chance I can take fulltime instead? I’m willing to work as much as possible.” Anna asked eagerly as she hoped he would let her have it.

The man stopped looking through the drawer and looked up at Anna. “Fulltime, eh? That’s a first.” He mumbled and pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer, along with a pen. Anna nodded as she held her hands together and could barely stand still. “I…, ma’am, you’d make more money working fulltime somewhere else. There’s not much you can do here fulltime.” Anna quickly stepped closer to the counter and held her hands in front of herself in a begging way “Please, I really need a job and I’m not qualified anywhere else.”

The man glared at her for a brief moment, unsure what to reply. “…I suppose it could work, I could use some more help cleaning and restocking the shelves sometimes, I’m getting pretty old.” He said and scratched the back of his neck. It almost looked like as if he felt bad for her. Marilyn didn’t understand why it was so urgent for Anna and why she couldn’t carefully spend her time finding a more proper job. She hadn’t even actually moved into the house yet, they were just sleeping in a motel for now. It all made her question her actions and decisions more and more, it didn’t make sense, something was definitely going on.

“Are you sure, Anna?” Mary asked, concerned for her. “Yes.” Anna replied, almost in a harsh way. Mary sighed and crossed her arms. The man held out the pen he had gotten to Anna, waiting for her to grab it. “You can sign here, and then the job is yours.” Anna took the pen and quickly signed her name on the sheet of paper in front of her. She seemed so careless about everything, she didn’t even spend a second looking at the policies and agreements on the paper.

“The name is Kevin by the way, yours?” The man asked and smiled as he took the paper when Anna was done signing. “Annette Allen, Anna for short, and this is my younger sister Marilyn.” She said and nodded at Mary. “Marilyn Allen?” Kevin said “I think I recognize your name from your news articles. They’re really interesting.” He uttered and put the pen back into the drawer it originally came from. Mary was shocked to hear that. She was a journalist, but she wasn’t famous of any kind. To hear someone recognize her and her work made her feel flattered. “Oh? Well- thank you!” She said and smiled.

“So, when can I start working?” Anna asked, still seeming like she was stressed out. Kevin looked to his left at a calendar on the wall, and then returned his sight to Anna. “Hmmm… how about tomorrow?” Anna smiled and nodded, she seemed more relieved and happier, now when she finally got what she wanted. Mary was still confused about her behavior. She couldn’t possibly make enough money out of this job to fix her house, it would take centuries. “Well… thank you so much, sir! See you tomorrow.” Anna said as she grew a big smile on her face and waved at Kevin, before grabbing Mary’s hand and dragging her out of there. “See ya!” Kevin replied and smiled back, returning to his crossword. Mary pulled away her hand from Anna and walked after her. Anna always used to grab and pull her ever since they were kids, but she still got annoyed by it.

(dw the og characters will show up soon..)

[the-haunted-walkman]

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : A Bad Demon

𝔸𝕝𝕓𝕦𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒 ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

"Cesar open the fucking door! It's cold as all hell get out!" Mark hollered, pounding the front door of the house. His breath fogged in front of him, the face paint felt tacky against his skin as it dried oddly in the October chill. He hopped from foot to foot, blowing on his hands as they trembled a little. He shoved his hands under his armpits, cursing himself for not bringing a jacket and thinking the sheet cloth of his costume would be warm enough. 

Cesar laughed from inside, sounding like he was just on the other side of the door, probably getting his shoes one. 

"You sound like the Doctor Philip Mama likes!" His muffled voice shouted jovially. A thump against the wall and a small curse, the one footed thumps making it obvious Cesar had lost his balance while shimying on his favorite red sneakers. 

Mark laughed, banging on the door once.

"It's Dr Phil and you know it, ya dip shit, careful to not hit your head while you're being an idiot in there" Mark laughed, shivering a little less as his happiness seemed to warm him a little. Cedars presence had always felt like a drop of sun. 

A mother on the sidewalk up front shot Mark a glare for his foul language as she shuffled her kid in a zombie costume and tutu past their house. The street lights had hardly been on and yet all the trick or treaters had already started emerging. Mark blushed and shot an apologetic and sheepish smile at her before turning back to the door. 

His cream robes and fake wings shuffled a bit as he leaned closer to the door, lowering his voice and hissing,

"Cesar I swear to hell if you don't hurry up I'm gonna climb in through a window like that one time-" 

The door swung open, almost making Mark fall on the shorter 14 year old Latino who was grinning up at him. Mark got on balance again and took a step back to look at Cesar, who was grinning wildly with pride sparking in his warm brown eyes. 

He'd really gone all out this Halloween.

Mark almost felt silly for his own costume, though he knew it had been worth his effort. Mark was wearing some cliche angel type robes he'd managed to make by draping some white and cream sheets around till they fit right. Angel wings and a halo added to the mix finished it off. Then Mark had added about two hundred fake eyes glued all over his face, his arms, the wings and even the halo. Some fake fangs couldn't hurt. 

Mark had excitedly told Cesar his plan as soon as he had thought it up. Cesar had also gotten that mischievous smile that was the opening sentence for a lot of the twos misadventures. 

Cesar stood proudly in the doorway in his favorite red button up. The color matched the fake blood spilled over his dark brown curls and dropped down half his face, making his curls darker and weighed down. The red horns shone on top of his head, fake fangs gleaming in his smile. His black slacks were the anchor for a pinned on red devil tail, and the signature Red Converse somehow didn't look out of place at the bottom, even splattered in fake blood for the occasion. Black fake wings shuffled on Cesar's back, having been mangled by the teen. The golden cross pendant on Cesars necklace was flipped upside down even, matching the earrings on fake pointed ears. 

"Holy shit" Mark gasped, staring dumbfounded. 

"I know, right?! I mean I was excited and thought it would look cool, but not THIS cool!" Cesar beamed excitedly, his hands making attempts at coherent gestures before giving up and just flapping excitedly. 

Mark swallowed thickly. His breaths got a little faster. 

"Ces, Cesar holy shit- I mean, FUCK, dude, your mom's gonna kill you!" Mark said worriedly. He frantically looked to the driveway, but the familiar beaten up red Pt Cruiser was absent. 

"Mark?"

Good, they'd have time to get Cesar in and washed up, maybe even dump the costume bits in a neighbors trash can before she got home. 

"Amigo?" 

If Mark hurried he could maybe- 

"MARK!" Cesar shout broke him out of his thoughts. Cesar held his hands tightly between his own. Mark was panting. He closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them he stared at their hands. Cedars were sandwiching his between his own, like a prayer in a prayer. Cesar's nails were painted black, red underneath. He'd always been good at painting nails. His abuela taught him when they were young. They used to paint each other's till Marks dad had seen them. He'd come over to Cedars house, fuming, Mark's mom was barely able to convince him to not go storming to the front door, telling him that she would talk to Cesar's mom, a call between moms would suffice. 

They didn't have nail polish remover. Mark's dad had watched Mark at their kitchen table, slowly pick at the baby blue polish with pail stars, slowly flaking off under constant picking from the boy. The harsh light had made Mark's eyes water, but he never let the tears roll down, that would have made it worse. Eventually Mark's dad had gotten tired. Mark wasn't allowed to leave the table till his nails were "clean". When Mark had woken up in the morning, a bottle of nail polish remover had been placed on the table by his head with a little muffin from his mom. 

His fingers had still hurt at school the next day. 

"Mark, please, let's go inside, your shivering, amigo" Cedars low smooth voice coaxed gently, sounding tired and sad. 

Mark looked up, breaths calming, but still a little trapped in thought. Cesar smiled at him sadly, tears in his best friend's eyes. Cedars gently tugged Mark inside and sat him on the couch. Mark tried to protest, but Cesar just quietly shook his head. That quieted Mark quickly. A calm moving and quiet Cesar was always a sign. 

A small clatter as red clip on horns where deposited on the work hardwood table that had scratches and paint stains on it. The click of two mugs half filled with water being placed on that class gray in the microwave above the fridge. The beep of a timer being set. A whir. 

Mark focused on the sounds of Cedars home. The smell of cinnamon and pumpkin pie spices being pulled from the cupboard, honey too. The fridge light clicking on and buzzing as Cesar retrieved milk. 

Mark fiddles with the end of his robe. The warm light of the living room lamp made it seem like soft gold. 

The microwave beeped, and after a moment stirring sounds of metal spoons in ceramic cups filled the two joined rooms. 

A blue mug with a chip in the corner was offered to him. Mark blinked, then took it. It warmed his hands. 

The couch cushions sank a little beside him, and he felt the warmth of Cesar at his shoulder. The Latino leaned against his friend, gently, shoulder to shoulder. He blew on his own red mug of tea. It had a design so faded you could hardly make it out. The  physical contact helped. Cesar knew. 

Mark's mug was old and blue, angel wings on it and chipped on the side. He'd dropped it once while at their house, it didn't break but It did chip. Mark had near panicked but Cesar Mom had just smiled gently, setting the cup aside. She checked his hands to make sure he was ok. She'd set little Mark on the countertop to sit, Cesar hopping up, asking over and over if Mark was alright. Cesar had tried to scramble up the pantry doors to sit by Mark, nearly falling off a few times. A quick stern look had stopped his parkouring, the five year old having to be satiated with just standing on his tiptoes and resting his chin on the countertop, staring up at Mark, worriedly. 

Mark had apologized over and over for the cup, offering to pay with his allowance, or buy a new one, but Cesars mom had just waved it off like it was nothing. She rummaged in a junk drawer, pulling out a small yellow tube of glue, and had gone over the sharp edges of the chipped bit. She handed it to Mark with a gentle smile as it dried, and poured him a new cup of cocoa once it was dry. 

She'd said it was HIS cup, so he shouldn't be worried if it broke. She could fix it, and it was here at their house, only for him to use, no one else. 

"How are you feeling?" Cesar's voice hummed. He felt the vibration in his shoulder. Mark came back to himself again. He took a sip of the familiar cinnamon drink, then sighed. He looked away blushing in shame. 

"I'm feeling dumb. I'm sorry I freaked a little" he apologized in a low voice, looking down. 

Cesar shrugged beside him, staying close, but looking forward, affording Mark that privacy. 

"It's fine, you don't have to apologize. I know how your parents are. . . Mama is out of town for the night. She took my tia out to one of those haunted mazes the town over all night. . .she doesn't mind my costume if that's what worries you. We can stay in if you want, I've got some candy stashed from last year, and Mama rented the Blair Witch" he said, skipping from his own red mug. Cesar mug  was more cracks glue together than solid unbroken pieces. His fluttering hands were clumsy, it was endearing. 

Mark stared at his drink, cinnamon and spices swirling in the murky white, honey sweet on his tongue. He took a deep breath, and shook his head, looking at Cesar. 

" No, we're going out. This might be the last year we go trick or treating and our costumes are too cool to waste!" He said, setting his face in determination. After a moment, he let a smile grow on his face. Cesar blinked, then beamed, standing up, clutching Mark's hands. 

"Aw Hell Yeah!" Cesar whooped. Mark snickered at the unintentional pun, Cesar not noticing and just scampering over to the table to grab his discarded horns. He snagged two plastic grocery bags from the convenience store from under the sink and rushed back over, handing one to Mark. 

A serious look crossed his face for a moment and he stared at Mark intensely. 

"We quit as soon as you want, just say the word. If it's two houses down or all the way across town, if you get anxious or tired or just bored, we can drop it as soon as you want, ok?" He said seriously. Mark felt his core warm a little, and he nodded. Cesar's beaming smile returned and he hauled Mark up, mugs forgotten on the living room table, left where they would reheat them later when they got back.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Mark now in a red jacket Cesar had bullied him into, Mark smiled to himself a little. He looked at his best friend who dragged him along, Cesar's smile shining brighter than the horns on his head. 

Cesar would make the worst demon, Mark thought to himself.