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lemonlover1110 · 8 months

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Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 29] Growing Family

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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*this is really the last chapter, thanks for sticking with me in this cute adventure🥹

Seven years after Seiji is born, you constantly find yourself thinking about destiny and your first discussion with Satoru about it. Neither of you are sure, but you’re happy that this is how your life turned out. You love waking up next to him as his wife and proceeding to start off your day with him and your kids. With your seven-year-old Seiji and your five-year-old Saori.

You both have teaching jobs– Of course, they’re very different. Satoru teaches three teenagers, one of them being Megumi, while you teach a classroom full of at least twenty second graders. Satoru always tells you that you’re one of the reasons he decided he wanted to become a teacher, apart from the part that he’s the strongest (you still have no idea what he means) and that’s his duty. You have a much bigger home than before; yet neither Megumi nor Tsumiki live with you anymore so many rooms are empty, however, considering the fact that you have two young children, the house is still very lively.

Satoru still had a great idea to fill up the empty rooms, and that’s how you find yourself expecting your third child with him. You swear to Satoru this is the last baby you’ll have, but that’s what you said when you gave birth to Saori. It’s easy to forget how bad pregnancy and childbirth are when you watch Satoru being the best possible father to your kids.

“Daddy, can you help with my homework?” Seiji asks, even though you’re the one that teaches his grade level and knows what his teacher is teaching. Apparently you’re great at explaining things but daddy just does it better, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you watch Seiji approach his father with the notebook.

“Sure thing, buddy. Wait till Saori finishes with my nails.” Satoru answers, watching as his daughter paints his pinky nail a blue color. She was going for pink since it’s her favorite color but then she decided that blue would match his eyes (in reality she couldn’t find the pink nail polish and didn’t want to admit that she lost it). It’s fine though, her father will just buy her another one. “Wow, look at you. You’re doing such a great job.”

“I know.” Saori answers, so focused on not making a mess and painting her father’s whole finger. Satoru manipulates his infinity every time that she’s clearly about to paint his whole finger.

“Saori, will you hurry up?” Seiji asks, clearly annoyed. He wants to get finished with his homework so he can watch TV, since you told him he could watch his show after he was finished with homework. You offered to help, but he turned you down.

“Don’t rush your sister, Seiji.” Satoru says, and he watches how Saori sticks her tongue out at her brother, causing Satoru to sigh. “Don’t stick your tongue out at your brother, Saori.”

“I can help you, Seiji.” You pop into the living room, where your husband and kids are. You find yourself bored for once in your life because Satoru took care of everything.

“It’s okay.” Seiji responds, making you pout. He does usually accept your help, but during your third pregnancy you’ve been a victim of pregnancy brain. You don’t think you’ve ever felt dumber, so stupid that even your seven-year-old notices.

“Saori, honey, will you paint my nails next.” You say and she perks up. For the first time Satoru fails, not turning his infinity on and getting nail polish all over his finger. She smiles brightly and nods her head.

“I’m done with you, daddy.” Saori tells her father, and he laughs as he looks at the unfinished hand. He stands up and walks over to Seiji to help him with his homework. You take Satoru’s seat and extend your hand to your daughter. “Do you want blue as well, mommy?”

“What other colors do you have?” You ask.

“I used to have pink.” She replies, which makes you laugh. She doesn’t have it anymore so you don’t see the point in bringing it up. She begins to paint your nails, and she’s awfully concentrated until she finally speaks up, “When’s my baby brother or sister getting here?”

“Around two more months.” You answer. You’re due in December, a little while after Satoru’s birthday. A month after her birthday. “Are you excited to be a big sister, honey?”

“Yeah.” She answers. She’s focused, therefore, she can’t talk. You stare at her, watch how concentrated she is. She has to push her white hair out of her face since it covers her vision. The more you stare at her, the more you realize how neither of your kids look like you and you hope that the third time around you give birth to your twin. “When’s my birthday?”

“In a month.” You respond since you won’t count down the weeks until her sixth birthday. You can’t believe just how fast she’s growing up, it feels just like yesterday when you found out that you were pregnant with your baby girl. You smile, watching as she paints your whole finger. Satoru has shown you his infinity, yet you still find yourself surprised how she never messes up Satoru’s nails. “Woah, you completely missed the nail there.”

“Sorry.” She apologizes yet she continues to make the same mistake. You aren’t paying too much attention to it, you just listen to Satoru explain to your son how to do his homework. You’re sure that you could explain it better, but you still smile. You never really thought you’d be here seven years later, but here you are.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Satoru isn’t the type of man that goes to bed early– Well, he wasn’t. Up until he had two babies under two and ever since he had to handle a very energetic Seiji and a crybaby Saori, he’s been going to bed since eight at night. When you put both of your kids to bed, you both go to bed as well. His head barely touches the pillow and he’s passed out.

This specific night though, when his head touches the pillow, a scream comes from his daughter’s room and he sprints out of bed and to her room. He literally just put her to bed, there’s no way that she already had a nightmare. Seiji isn’t much of a prankster either so he’s ready to kill just about anyone.

Satoru finds his little girl with her knees to her chest. She buries her head in her knees, and she covers her ears. Satoru looks around, turning on the light. He’s about to ask what’s wrong since his eyes don’t see anything, but he feels the energy. His eyes land on the half open closet and he begins to walk towards it.

“Is everything okay, Saori–” Seiji comes running into the room after hearing his sister scream. He’s much slower than his father, but regardless he’s here.

“Go to your room, Seiji. Take your sister.” Satoru orders and Seiji does as instructed, even though it takes some effort to get Saori out of the room but he succeeds. Satoru fully opens the closet and a sigh leaves his body seeing the small curse. Nothing scary to him, but surely scary for his baby girl.

He exorcizes the curse with no issue before walking out of the room and going to Seiji’s room. Seiji comforts his little sister, who’s trying to hide under the blue blanket that Seiji let her borrow. There’s a frown on Satoru’s face as he walks over to his babies and sits on the edge of the twin bed. He engulfs his kids in a hug.

“I’m sorry you saw that, Saori.” Satoru mutters. He feels guilty that the curse that he holds is passed down to his children. He’s known they can see them, but he tries to protect them as much as he can. Sometimes he can’t though. Satoru’s parents want him to start training his son as well, after all, Seiji is a descendent of the Gojo clan but Satoru doesn’t want to do that. He wants his kids to be free of this all.

That’s not his decision to make though.

“Everything’s gonna be okay while daddy is here.” Satoru reassures them. He kisses the top of their heads, and just holds them while he can.

“What happened?” You show up a little too late. Getting up from your bed is the hardest exercise that you face lately. Satoru chuckles, it’s not like you’re really going to understand anyway. He doesn’t want you to.

“The kids are sleeping with us tonight, honey.” Satoru says, picking both Seiji and Saori from the bed and carrying them to your bedroom. You slowly follow behind, already out of breath by simply getting up from bed and going to Seiji’s bedroom.

When you stand in the doorway, you watch how Satoru tucks them in the middle of the bed, filling their faces up with kisses. Maybe it wasn’t exactly planned, but you’re glad you’re with him and the fact that he’s the father of your kids. Now, as his wife, you can’t imagine spending the rest of your days with someone else and you can’t imagine a father more perfect than him– Of course he has his flaws but they hardly poke through.

He often asks if you think he’s doing well as a parent, worried that he’s messing everything up. You can’t even begin to say how proud you are of him, and how you think he’s a far better parent than you are. He loves to remind them that their father is always there to help them, protect them, and love them. Maybe that’s why you agreed to have a third child with him, plus the process is always fun.

“I love you two so much.” Satoru says, and while he should lay down with them, he’s no longer tired, and when he looks back at you it seems like you aren’t tired anymore either. “We’ll be right back, do you want to watch some TV for a bit?”

They nod their heads and Satoru turns the television on. They’re too agitated to go to sleep as well. Letting them stay up for half an hour isn’t the end of the world. He then walks over to you, and throws his arm over your shoulder. You walk out of the room and go downstairs to the living to sit down for a moment and talk. It’s rare that you find yourself alone to just talk.

When you take a seat, a moan leaves your lips, and he furrows his brow. You grab his hand and put it over your belly, and your baby doesn’t waste time kicking. No matter how many times he’s felt it, it always amazes him. He always looks so in awe, and he doesn’t remove his hand until his baby kicks a couple more times. He then pecks your lips, muttering, “Thank you so much for this.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts because this is the last time we’ll have a kid.” You tell him, and he sweetly smiles at you, pecking your lips again. You rest your head on his shoulder for a minute, and he enjoys the moment. You appreciate the unusual silence. You’ve gotten used to so much noise, and you’ll grow to miss it if you sit in silence for too long. You still appreciate it.

“How’s Kaya?” He asks, interrupting the silence.

“She’s planning the baby shower. She’s going crazy.” You respond, and you hear him chuckle.

“Isn’t she due soon? She shouldn’t be stressing over a baby shower.” He says and you hum in response. You wouldn’t know either way, you opted out for a baby shower the second time around since you were already stressed enough planning a wedding and handling Seiji. Every time you’re reminded, you laugh due to the fact that your father was right about the fact that Satoru would knock you up months after Seiji’s birth.

“She’s due around Halloween– Maybe two weeks before Saori’s birthday.” You answer. That’s so soon, Satoru only prays that her water doesn’t break during the baby shower and that he has to handle all the chaos. Satoru knows Daisuke is absolutely freaking out about it all; Satoru knows that feeling all too well, he’s still freaking out even though this is his third baby.

“Our baby will finally have a little cousin this time around.” Satoru comments and you chuckle. Seiji didn’t need a cousin, he had his younger sister. This new baby doesn’t though, and you’re adamant on not having more kids which he understands since he’s not the one that carries them for nine months.

“What ended up happening in the kid’s room?” You ask, and Satoru takes a long minute to answer. There’s no point in lying. He lied so much to you when you first met, he can’t do that anymore while you’re his wife. You swore you’d leave him if you ever caught him in a lie again, and now he tells you the truth even when you can’t see it. He doesn’t see the point in telling you a problem that you can’t solve.

“Well… Uhm… A curse.” He answers, and you remove your head from his shoulder. You slowly nod your head in response, and you aren’t really sure how to answer that other than,

“Oh yeah…” There’s some things that you’ll never understand about them nor about your husband. You don’t like to think about the fact that there are some issues that you’ll never be able to help them out with, only Satoru can help them.

You sit in absolute silence for a minute as you get lost in your thoughts. Satoru watches you, wondering what goes on in your mind.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you sigh. You can’t try to play it off as if you’re okay because you expect him to remain honest with you, it’s hypocritical to lie to him.

“Yeah, it’s just… What if you aren’t around and a similar issue comes up. How would I handle that?” You ask, and he wraps his arm around you, bringing you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head, his hand going down to rest on your belly. “I just feel useless for some stuff, Satoru.”

“You aren’t useless, baby.” He responds. He doesn’t want for you to think about this– He doesn’t want to think that you’re useless in any way. It makes him recall an incident from five years ago, and he hid the truth to not worry you. “Can I confess a lie I told you?”

“Better be from before we got married.” There’s a frown on your face, and Satoru chuckles.

“You remember when Seiji was three and Saori two, how they went running to you crying about a bug that you could not find?” Satoru asks, and you remember the incident clear as day. You were scared shitless but you still went after the bug to kill it; when you couldn’t find it and they kept crying about it, you just comforted them while Satoru dealt with the problem. “There wasn’t a bug, it was a curse. But you still managed to deal with the problem, even when you didn’t know what it was.”

“That does make me feel better.” You smile at him before kissing his lips. “I love you. You always know the right thing to say.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Seiji, stop!” Saori yells at her brother who keeps messing around with her tiara. You’ve already struggled getting into a kangaroo onesie to go out with them, you’re already far too tired to stop their bickering. You have no idea why you agreed to go trick-or-treating with them, you doubt you can walk too much. In your defense, you promised you’d do it two months ago, and your circumstances now are much different than before. You should��ve known that by Halloween you’d be in a much different mood. You only glance at Satoru, who lays down on the bed and stares at the phone, and he stands up to deal with it. “Seiji!”

“Seiji, what are you doing?” Satoru yells, walking out of the bedroom to go to where his kids are at. Satoru crosses his arm as he looks down at the seven-year-old who wears a superhero costume, ready to go trick-or-treating. Seiji tries to play it off as if he’s doing nothing, but he’s holding his sister’s tiara in his hands. Satoru sternly says, “Give it back and apologize.”

Seiji drags his feet, walking over to his sister to give her back her tiara. When Saori gets her tiara back, she runs to her father’s side and hugs him. He picks his little princess up from the floor and kisses her forehead. She sticks her tongue out at Seiji, making Satoru sigh and say, “Don’t do that.”

“Mommy! Saori is being mean to me!” He yells, hoping to have a parent by his side. You’re forced to leave your room to deal with it, even after your efforts of not dealing with it.

“What’s happening?” You ask. You look at Satoru and Saori before looking down at Seiji. Before Seiji responds, Satoru says,

“I got it handled, honey.” He puts Saori down on the floor again, “Apologize to your brother, Saori.”

“What for?” She responds, giving her father doe-eyes, which always work. He looks away, at his son.

“Apologize to Seiji for sticking your tongue out at him.” Saori crosses her arms before dramatically turning to her brother. She mutters an apology which is good enough for the minor offense. When you’re no longer needed, you begin to walk away, but you don’t get too far before your name is called again.

“Is Megumi still going with us?” Seiji asks, and you nod your head in response. You then look at your husband.

“Change. We have to get going soon so we get home early.” You order, and Satoru has no option but to do as you say. That’s what he signed up for when he chose to marry you.

When you’re back in your room, you lay down on your bed, grabbing a picture frame that’s beside your bed and looking over it because every time Megumi is brought up you’re reminded of the little family you had six years ago. It’s an old photo of baby Seiji, Megumi, and Tsumiki. Looking at Tsumiki’s precious smile almost always makes you cry, and when the tears well up, they spill as you laugh at Megumi’s awful smile.

Maybe you should’ve appreciated those times more, but you had a lot on your plate. It’s not like you can stop time or stop awful things from happening. You’re still happy with your life right now.

The picture frame is snatched from your hands, and you glare at your husband. He looks at the picture before he puts it down on the nightstand. He leans down, and kisses you, “Don’t start getting sentimental now, it’ll ruin your night.”

“I’ll try not to.” You respond. He takes a seat on your side of the bed, his hands resting on your belly.

“I got a call.” He announces, and it makes your brows raise. He clears his throat, “We’ll have to go trick or treating without me. It’s an emergency.”

“Oh?” You reply. You want to be upset about it, but you know he doesn’t do it on purpose. Satoru is the first one to be bummed out about missing time with his kids. “I can take the kids out.”

“No! I want you to stay here till I get home.” He sounds defensive, and you know better. It’s rare when Satoru says no, so you’ll listen. He pecks your lips, telling you, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His head goes down and he presses a couple of kisses on your belly before he promises,

“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as possible. We gotta take these kids trick-or-treating together.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

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we-are-so-close · 2 years

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“You look nice.” Aizawa’s tone gave no indication of how he really felt. It’s a tone that you had grown used to, something you were usually able to decipher, something you had grown to love.

He did think that you looked nice, but if he wasn’t holding back, he might have told you that you looked stunning. A backless burgundy dress. Long sleeved and covered in an intricate golden lace design flowing up to the neckline. It was gorgeous; you were gorgeous, but it still didn’t suit you. He assumed you chose this color because it complemented what Hawks’ was wearing, and since the two of you arrived together…

“You look nice, too,” you smiled tenderly. “I really love the color you chose for your tie!”

“I know,” he said softly under his breath. It wasn’t dismissive, but it was because he really did know that you would like the color; it was your favorite afterall.

A slight sound of commotion had you turning to face the stage. Present Mic was up at the front, no microphone needed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now at the time of the night where we have those of you share a dance with someone you did not attend the gala with.”

The music slowly started building and you recognized it immediately.

“Ah, this is my favorite song.”

“I know,” Aizawa replied again. “Since we’re here, would you like to dance?” He asked as he offered you his hand.

You looked around and saw that Hawks was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t see the harm in dancing with your old mentor.

You take the tried and true position of two dancing partners. Slowly, you sway to the rhythm. You took to staring at his chest, not knowing if you could look him in the eyes.

“So, you and Hawks?”

“Me and Hawks?” your tone matched his.

“You two arrived together, so are you two…you know…”

“Dating? No. He said it would be good for publicity. Well, for me anyway. Not sure how the public will view him after bringing me with him.” You tried to make light of your situation, but it came off as more pathetic.

A brief wave of relief washes over Aizawa hearing that you are not dating Hawks, but it’s soon replaced with a sense of guilt because of the situation you were in. Things had happened so quickly. One day he was mentoring you as a teacher in training, and then the next day you had been moved to be under the supervision of the number two pro hero.

“How, uh…how have you been?” He asked you, the two of your bodies coming closer together as the music plays on.

“I’ve thought about texting you,” you tell him honestly.

I miss you. I hate not seeing you every day. I love you.

“Me, too.”

The music began to pick up and the two of you fall into the steady beat. If people hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought you two had done this before.

“Shouta.”

“______.”

The two of you slow, eyes locking, words ready to spill from both of your lips.

“Mind if I cut in?” the familiar voice of Hawks cuts through the two of you.

“Keigo,” you state in surprise.

“You never mentioned you could dance, old man.” A slight jab at the man you were just dancing with. He draped his arm over your shoulder, a subtle way to let Aizawa know that you were under his watchful eye.

“I guess it never came up in our many conversations.” The sarcasm was radiating from Aizawa’s body.

“Guess not. But I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you think ______? It’s been a busy night for you.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you replied. “Bye, Eraserhead. It was nice to see you again.” You knew that Hawks could hear the disappointment in your voice, but you were hoping that Aizawa would hear it, too. Hawks steered you toward the back as Aizawa threw his hand up in good-bye.

Once you were out of earshot, Hawks stopped and turned you to face in the direction you had just left.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him.”

“Hm,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Couldn’t help it, I guess.”

“What does it feel like? Watching the person you love have no interest in you?”

That statement clenched your heart. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“It doesn’t..I don’t..”

“You don’t have to answer, babe. I know what it’s like.” His arm discreetly pulled you closer to him.

Present Mic walked over to Aizawa, who was standing in the same spot you left him.

“So, did you tell her?”

“I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean you 'couldn’t'? I did all of that up there in order to get you your chance and you blew it? I’m going to start calling you ChickenHead,” Hizashi punched Aizawa in the shoulder, no malice behind the action.

“How could I? All I would be doing is taking her shot at happiness. At least one of us deserves to be happy.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, Shouta. You both deserve to be happy, and you both could be happy together.”

The two men stared at you and Hawks. And you and Hawks stared back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “let’s go.”

One last look at Shouta was all you needed to know about how he felt about you, truly.

It would take too long for the pieces of your hearts to be pieced back together.

#aizawa #aizawa x reader #hawks #hawks x reader #aizawa angst #mha #mha angst

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catsockpuppet · 23 days

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I really, really wish to share my dumb opinions on SM characters. So… Um..

Here ya’ go. I’m gonna add more characters as I think of them but right now I have Skid, Pump, Ethan, and Streber.

Skid: I think he draws a lot, usually the kind of stuff that’d make a teacher go ‘umm! time to call CPS!’. I imagine that he draws a lot of things related to what he sees around town. Eyes, the clown, Frank, etc., Which- a teacher would immediately report if they saw a kid drawing some weird guy in a white van offering them candy. (I mean, they’d probably report drawings of Eyes as well. Also this is even if he is in school/isn’t homeschooled.) I think he wants to be a mortician when he’s older, especially after Hollow Sorrows.

Ethan: OKAY, none of you are gonna agree with me here but I do not care. I feel like Ethan is probably socially insecure. They probably overthinks everything they say and avoids going and hanging out in public. Like, I imagine that someone will invite they out and they just comes up with ‘oh.. I’m busy that day.’ despite really wanting to go (and being free). Also, Trans. Trans. Trans Ethan. Their intersex, poisonjabs told me (they didn’t but shhh). They really like space and astronomy. I don’t think they’re talkative about it, more-so that IF they go hangout it will end in going into the woods to look at the sky. They probably also play guitar because, of course they do. For a job, they work on customizing old kids toys. They don’t do OOAK dolls, but they do stuff like this YouTuber. I think they have a lot of stuffed animals, most of them being goats. Also, asexual Ethan. Desperately tries to help Streber feel better after Halloween, but they suck at comforting.

Pump: Weird HC, but I think he speaks Italian. Where’d he learn Italian? No clue. He just knows. (I’m kidding, Susie takes Italian classes in school and teaches him bits and pieces. Mostly insults.) He loves going camping entirely because he’s allowed to make a fire, once it starts he is glued to it. His favorite food is popcorn and onetime he asked Radford if he could eat his hair because it looked yummy. He draws with Skid, although he mostly just throws pretty colors onto the paper and calls it a day. When he’s older, I feel like he’d be an horror author. But right now he wants to be like Kevin. (Funnily enough, I also HC that Kevin enjoys writing.)

Streber: It’s like, really fucking sad. Or— more angry, than sad. Even before it lost its arm, he was going through it but tried to hide it. It tried to do the haunted house because, ‘it loves Halloween! Maybe this’ll finally make it happy?’ But it didn’t go as planned, and now he lost an arm. He probably stays inside all the time now, only leaving when friends (Ethan) make him leave because he’s just been rotting away in bed. He and Kev never liked each-other until post Tender Treats. Streber used to work backstage for the drama club, not because he didn’t like acting but because it liked working on things. It really, really wants to visit Rhode Island and see Mercy Brown’s grave (as well as the other Rhode Island vampires, but mostly Mercy Brown). The haunted house was part of a college fundraiser, it just volunteered to lead it and made friends join. Once it does graduate college I can imagine it going into some kind of engineering career and doing small programming gigs for extra cash. Streber is chubby, you. You can see it in Tender Treats. He’s drawn differently than say, Lila or Kev. Obviously it likes vampires, but I feel like thats a bi-product of it really liking history and learning about the Rhode Island vampires and now has an obsession with historical vampires.

Jesus christ, this is long. I’m not re-reading any of this because I’m tired, so, enjoy this. I want to go more in-depth on how characters interact but I may do that on another post because of how long Streber’s got.

#streber spooky month #headcanon #spooky month headcanon #spooky month #ethan spooky month #pump spooky month #skid spooky month

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ghostbustermelanieking · 7 months

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The V Word

(an original horror short story)

My new teacher wants me to go and talk to the School Counselor. His name is Dr. Judson. She says he can make me feel better about what happened, about That Night. “He makes a lot of people feel better,” she says, crouching down to look me in the eye. “You can tell him all about how much you miss your mommy and daddy, and he’ll listen to everything you have to say.”

My new teacher thinks Mommy and Daddy are dead. So will Dr. Judson. So does everyone except Daniel (my big brother), and Great-Aunt. I know the truth, but I can’t tell it. Daniel wants me to lie.

(“Lying is wrong,” I told him. “It’s against the Twelve Commandments.”

“Ten Commandments,” Daniel said, correcting, and wrinkling his nose ‘cause he doesn’t like church. Or at least he didn’t used to. “And it doesn’t matter, okay, Bobby? God…” He took a deep breath and patted my knee. “God would want us to lie. Okay?” And I didn’t understand it at all, because why would God ever want that?)

Teacher takes me to Dr. Judson. His office is nice and full of toys. He lets me color when we talk. I color a picture of my family, the way it used to be. Mommy and Daddy and Daniel and me, and just to be nice, I put Great-Aunt Florence in there, too, even though she didn’t live with us before. She’s nice. I tell Dr. Judson that maybe she can live with us when things go back to normal.

“Normal?” Dr. says. “What’s normal, buddy?”

“Normal is when we’re all a family again,” I say. I give me and Daniel big, red smiles. “We can all live together and be happy. Florence doesn’t usually live with us, but I think she can anyways, when Mommy and Daddy come back.”

Dr. frowns a little, but then he smiles again. He bends down to look me in the eye and he says, “Bobby, I want to tell you something important. Something I want you to remember. Your family can be anyone you want it to be. Anyone in the world. Sometimes family can be our friends. It can be our parents, or our grandparents, or our siblings… And your family can just be you and your brother and Aunt Florence. And that’s okay.”

“No. It HAS to be Mommy and Daddy, too.” I chew on the black crayon.

Dr. Judson takes it away. “Don’t chew on that. Bobby…” He sighs real big. “Bobby, I know this is hard to understand, but… Your mommy and daddy aren’t coming back.”

“Yes, they are,” I say. “You don’t believe me, but that’s okay. Daniel doesn’t believe me either. But I know they will.”

“Bobby…”

“They aren’t dead,” I say. “I know all ‘bout dead. Grampy died last year, and I went to his funeral, and we had to say goodbye forever, and it was so sad. But Daddy isn’t gone forever. Mommy, either. They said they’d come back. They’ll come back and find me.”

I color in Daddy’s teeth with my best white crayon. I make them as big and white as they are for real.

---

When Daniel picks me up from school and I tell him about Dr., he is mad. He pretends he isn’t, because he doesn’t like to get mad at me like he used to, but I can tell he is. His face gets like it did when he yelled at me for going in his room. He counts to ten so quiet he thinks I can’t hear, and then he says, “Bobby…”

“Huh?” I kick the dashboard.

He doesn’t yell at me for that, either. “Bobby, I told you. You can’t tell people about what happened That Night. And… you can’t tell people that Dad and Janet aren’t dead.”

“But they aren’t.” I stretch aren’t out really long, like bubble gum. Aaaarrrrrren’t. “You KNOW they aren’t, Daniel!”

He sucks in air. “Yes. Yes, I know, and you know, but other people can’t know. They won’t believe us. They won’t believe what happened. And if they think Dad is still alive, they might… they might…”

He sucks in air again, and again. He’s wheezing like Great-Aunt’s vacuum cleaner. He sounds like he is about to cry. I stop kicking the dashboard and look over at him; he looks upset again, but not mad. There’s a difference between upset and mad.

I gulp, and I pat my brother’s arm, and I think, Don’t cry, don’t cry over and over again, like he can hear me, or like that might work. Sometimes, with me, that works.

Daniel doesn’t cry. When he talks again, he leans across and wraps his arms around me, and he says, “It isn’t safe. Okay? No one can know the truth. If they think Dad and Janet are dead, then everyone will leave us alone, and we can stay with Great-Aunt Florence, and we’ll be… we’ll be safe.”

We’d be safe with Mommy and Daddy, too. I know we would be. I wriggle away and shrink down in my seat, and I mumble, “I don’t wanna lie. And they’ll come back soon, anyways, ‘cause they’re not dead.”

Daniel mumbles, too. Almost quiet enough that I don’t hear him, but I do anyways; he says, “I hope they never do.”

---

I love Great-Aunt. I love her because she lets me watch as much TV as I want, and sits right there beside me and watches hours of Spongebob and Fairly Odd Parents and Phineas and Ferb. She hugs me and whispers, “You poor dear,” too much, but that’s okay. She’s just being nice.

Daniel helps me with my homework. He and Great-Aunt talk in the other room when they think I can’t hear because I’m watching TV, but I still hear. Great-Aunt says something about behavioral problems. Daniel says, “It’s not his fault.” Great-Aunt says, “That’s why they want to send him to a counselor.” Daniel says, “Well, it’s no wonder, but it isn’t safe! If they find out… I mean, for Christ’s sake, you barely believed us, Florence!”

Mommy used to say Daniel shouldn’t talk to adults like that. She used to say he was too big for his britches. Great-Aunt doesn’t seem to mind.

Daniel says we should move, and Great-Aunt says, “It’s not that simple.” She says, “You know I love you boys, and I don’t want you to leave, but… are there other options? What about your mother, Daniel?” Daniel says, “Not an option. She isn’t… It’s not an option.”

Great-Aunt says, “I worry. What if they come here?” Daniel says, “They won’t,” but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Great-Aunt says, “But what if they do?” and she sounds like she might cry.

I don’t want to hear them so I turn up the volume on the TV. Spongebob and Squidward are scared of a ghost with a spatula for a hand. But it isn’t really a ghost at all. They say someone like Nose-for-a-two was flickering the lights. I grab the remote and change the channel.

Daniel and Great-Aunt let me watch TV so long that I fall asleep on the couch. I dream about Daddy. He gives me a big hug, and his arms are nice and cool, like the whoosh of Great-Aunt’s freezer, like the cold breeze outside.

---

Joe at school asks me why I live with my Great-Aunt while we’re playing on the monkey bars. I tell him it’s ‘cause something happened with my Daddy and Mommy and they went somewhere far away. “What happened?” Joe says, and I tell him I don’t know, I only remember a little. I keep asking Daniel questions, but he won’t tell me. Just says not to talk about it.

Yesterday, Dr. Judson wanted to talk about it. He wanted me to talk about That Night. He asked what happened with Mommy and Daddy, if I wanted to tell him why we had to come live with Great-Aunt. Same as Joe.

So I did. I played with one of the Monster Trucks in Dr’s toy chest, running it all around the table, and I talked and talked and talked. I said, “Daddy had been away on a trip. Mommy calls it a bizz-nuss trip. Daniel doesn’t like it when he goes away, ‘cause he doesn’t like Mommy very much. She isn’t his mommy. Just mine. His mommy went away when he was real little and never came back.

“Anyways, Daddy was gone, and Daniel got real upset the night he came back. He came into my room and asked if he could keep me company, and we watched SpongeBob on my TV even though I was ‘posed to be asleep. He was reading this book for school, called Dracula, except he kept putting it down and not reading. And I asked him what was wrong, and he told me about it. He didn’t want to, but I made him. I’m good at bugging. I’m a pest.”

Dr. Judson smiled a little. “What did he tell you?”

“He said Daddy called the house looking for Janet—that’s what he calls Mommy—and he picked up instead. He said Daddy sounded weird. He said that Daddy was coming home early and bringing a buddy from work to see us.” I ran the Monster Truck all around the table and made a growly sound with my mouth.

“Were you excited about that?”

“Yeah! I love my daddy. I love Mommy, too, but me and Daddy have a special bond.” I made my voice all quiet, cause it’s a secret, and Dr. said I could tell him anything I want, and it’ll be a secret just between him and me. “He’s my favorite parent, I think. Like Daniel is my favorite brother. But don’t tell Mommy. I don’t want her to be sad.”

“I won’t,” Dr. promised. He looked at me kinda sad. I smashed two trucks together like a car crash. He said, “What happened next? When your dad came home?”

“He came home while Mommy was still at work. Daniel was reading his stupid school book, but I was done with my homework, so I got to let him in. He had his friend with him, but I didn’t recognize him. He looked funny. Like a ghost or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was just real white-looking, like he was sick. And he sounded sick, too. I thought he was sick.” I frowned. “Daddy smelled funny, too. I thought it was maybe the trip. And I wanted Daddy to tell me ‘bout it, but he said later. He said they were gonna have a grown-up dinner with Mommy, and he wanted me to go upstairs til it was done. He said he’d order us pizza and everything. Daniel didn’t wanna go. He and Daddy fought about it. They’re always fighting, and I don’t like it!

“But Daniel went. Daddy said he had to. And I hung out in my room, and watched movies all night, and ate pizza, but Daniel wouldn’t watch with me. He stayed at the top of the stairs all night long. He was spying, I think. Mommy says you shouldn’t spy, it’s impolite.

“Anyways, I fell asleep sometime. I dunno when. Mommy never came up to make me brush my teeth or put on my pajamas. And no one read me a story. But I went to sleep during one of the movies.” I squeezed the Monster Truck hard in my hand, like I was a giant and could crush it into bits. I wished I was, that I could be big and strong like Daniel and Daddy could be.

“And then I woke up,” I whispered. “Daniel woke me up. I heard screaming.”

I couldn’t keep going then. Dr. Judson wanted me to, but he didn’t make me, and I didn’t wanna talk about it. I didn’t want to tell him that the screaming sounded like Mommy. I couldn’t talk about what happened the rest of the night, even though I remember it perfect. Daniel woke me up and made me put a coat on. He picked me up in my PJs, and made me grab Teddy, then he ran for the door. He ran all the way down the stairs. I was still mostly asleep, rubbing my eyes and holding Teddy and asking Daniel what was happening, but he wouldn’t say.

Daddy’s friend was lying on his face in the kitchen. I think he was asleep. And I saw Mommy on the couch, and she was asleep, too, and she had red all over her neck. Daddy was in the hall, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, wiping his mouth. It looked like he’d been eating spaghetti; his face was messy. “Daddy!” I said. “What’s going on? Are you coming with us?”

“Don’t,” Daniel said, and he was crying. “Bobby, don’t, that’s—that’s not Dad…”

“Don’t be stupid,” I told him, and I tried to get down, but Daniel wouldn’t let me. He squeezed me close. He was holding something in his hand. One of the plastic cross necklaces I got at Vacation Bible School. A green one.

He held it up towards Dad, who just sort of looked at us.

“We’re going away now,” Daniel said. He was holding me too tight. “Don’t—don’t follow us. Don’t you follow us.”

“Son,” said Daddy, and he sounded sick, he sounded as sick as his friend from the trip. He started to reach out towards me, but he made a hissing sound and yanked his hand back.

“We’re going,” Daniel said, and he turned for the door real fast, and I looked over his shoulder to see Daddy, who was watching us leave. He had a weird mark on his forehead that I couldn’t see, but it looked like an ouchie, it looked like it hurt, and he said, “I’ll see you again, buddy. I’ll see you soon…” And buddy is his special nickname for me, so I knew he was talking to me.

I thought up some more stuff to tell Dr. after Daniel picked me up. I wanted to tell him the rest of what happened—I changed my mind. I wanted to tell him about the ouchie on Daddy’s forehead, how it was kind of shaped like my plastic cross. I wanted to tell him about how Daddy’s teeth had gotten bigger, when he came back from his trip.

I don’t tell Joe any of that, though. I hang from the monkey bars and think about how Daddy picked me up and hugged me That Night, and how he sort of smelled like the lucky penny I carried around in preschool last year. (That was my favoritest penny, and Daddy smelled just like it.) He hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You wanna know something, buddy? Tonight, I’m gonna teach you to fly.”

I jump from the monkey bars, throw my arms out, and I fly, just like Daddy.

---

I hear Great-Aunt Florence and Daniel talking at night. Great-Aunt says, “The police—” and Daniel says, “They don’t know—” and Great-Aunt says, “They won’t believe you—” and Daniel says, “Don’t you think I know that?” I pull the covers over my head and cover my ears, but I still hear Aunt Florence say, “Vamp—” and Daniel shout, “Don’t say it! Don’t fucking say it!” I shove my head under the pillow to block out more. That’s a bad word; Mommy yells when Daniel uses it.

I think I know what Great-Aunt was going to say. I heard Daniel say it on the phone, That Morning, when he thought I was asleep. He was telling someone that Daddy was that, the v-word; he said that Daddy got Mommy—Janet, he said—that Janet had hurt Daddy’s work friend, and tried to keep Daddy away, too, because she didn’t want to be a v-word. I asked him what he meant while we were eating donuts in a parking lot; Daniel was all slumped over the wheel, drinking nasty coffee (I hate coffee but it smells good), and when I asked, his eyes got all big, and he said, “Don’t say that, Bobby. Don’t ever say the V word.” So I don’t. And neither does he.

The voices go quiet, and I’m still awake, looking around my room, waiting for someone to put me to bed. My new room is all covered in crosses even though we’re not really Christian. I have my cross necklace from VBS, from when I went with my old best friend, Tanner. Daniel brought us with it That Night. I think these crosses are Great-Aunt Florence’s, though. They’re really nice, nicer than my necklace.

The room stinks, too, like pizza night, but not nice. Daniel put it all together for me when we came here, and I don’t like it. I miss my toys and my Star Wars posters. I miss my night light.

Daniel comes up after the fight and reads me a story. We’re in the middle of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I listen, and I play with one of my army men while he reads. (Great-Aunt gave them to me. They used to belong to her husband.) I think about how Lucy and Peter and Susan and Edmund are away from their parents, and they aren’t in the story at all. How Peter is always telling the others what to do, like Daniel does with me.

Daniel finishes a story and kisses me goodnight. He turns off my lamp, so only my new night light is on. I don’t like it cause it’s not as bright as my old one, and it’s not green or shaped like a lightsaber. It makes the room all yellowy and full of shadows. I pull my covers up to my chin. I say a prayer for Mommy and Daddy to come find me, like Tanner’s Sunday School teacher taught us, even though I don’t believe in God.

---

Later, I wake up, cause someone is knock-knock-knocking on my window. I sleep right under the window, but with curtains, so monsters can’t see me. (They’re good curtains. Great-Aunt bought them at the Ikea just for me.)

The knocking scares me at first, and I pull my covers over my head and scrunch down real small.

Tap tap tap. Knock knock knock.

It keeps going. A monster, come to get me. I wish Daddy was here to protect me. I wish Daniel hadn’t taken me away.

I’m about to call out for Daniel when the knocking monster says, “Bobby? Are you there?”

Daddy! It’s Daddy’s voice. I pull the covers back off and sit up to open the curtains, and there’s Daddy, sitting on the roof outside my window, his eyes bright in the dark.

“Daddy!” I press my hand to the glass. “I knew you’d come back!”

Daddy puts his hand on the glass so it’s up against mine and smiles huge. I can see his new big teeth. “Buddy,” he says. “Boy, I’ve missed you. Can you let me in?”

I laugh. “You’re silly, Daddy. Why can’t you go in the door?”

“I can’t get in the door, Bobby.” Daddy sort of sounds mad, like when he’s arguing with Daniel. But he sees me screw up my face like I’m gonna cry (which I feel like I might), and he smiles, and says nice, “Just unlock the window. Can you do that?”

I rub my eyes with my sleeve. “How?”

Daddy points to a thingy on top of the window, like a switch. “Just turn this the other way,” he says. “Then push it up from the bottom. Okay?”

So I do that, with Daddy showing me how. As soon as it’s up, I try to throw myself at Daddy for a hug, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “Can I come in, Bobby?”

I giggle. “Yes, Daddy.” I move back and he crawls in, onto my bed, before he hugs me. I hug him back tight. “Missed you, Daddy.”

“M-missed you, bud.” Daddy is shaking in my arms and making a weird sound, like our cat Socks did when we took him to the vet. “Can… c-can you do me another favor, bud?”

I hold on tighter. “Sure, Daddy.”

He pulls out of the hug, quick, and starts to crawl backwards. He’s moving towards the window. “Get up a-and… take those cr—those cr-cr…”

Maybe he forgot the word. “The crosses?” I help him.

“Yes, son. Pl—please.”

“Okie-dokie.” I get off the bed and pull down the crosses that I can reach. I try to bring them to Daddy, but he shakes his head hard, his teeth chattering. “Put them AWAY,” he says, almost yelling, and I do it fast, shove them under my dresser.

Daddy’s still shivering when I come back up. “Thank you, Bobby,” he says. “Come here.” He holds out his arms, so I go to hug him again. He kisses me on the head. His teeth are sharp. He still smells like my penny.

I still feel a little crying like, from Daddy yelling, and from how much I’ve missed him. “Where did you go? Why didn’t you come sooner? Why did we have to come stay with Great-Aunt Florence?” I wipe my nose on his shirt. “Daniel said you wouldn’t come back. He said it… wasn’t safe…”

Daddy frowns big, big, and I think he’s mad at me again. “Daniel doesn’t understand,” he says, stern. “It’s a grown up thing that he doesn’t understand.”

“Does Great-Aunt understand? She’s a grown-up.”

Daddy’s still frowning. “Listen to me, Bobby. It’s late. And you need to sleep.”

“Aw, Daddy, no…” I whine.

“Yes.” Daddy points to the pillow, so I lie down. He tucks me in, pulling the covers to my chin, and making a face. “It reeks in here.”

“Wait!” I remember something, suddenly, and sit up in bed. “What about Mommy? Is she here, too?”

Daddy’s face softens some. “Yes, she’s here. I’m going to let her in.”

I kick with excitement. “Mommy! I want to see Mommy!”

I try to get out of bed, but Daddy stops me. He pushes me back down. “You’ll see her in a little bit, all right? In… in the morning,” he says. “Right now, I want you to close your eyes and get some rest.”

“I don’t want to!”

“You have to,” he says.

“But wh-hy?”

“Because Mommy and I need to have a talk with Daniel,” he says. “A grown up talk. You can’t come. But when we’re done… we’ll come up and talk to you.” He reaches down to tickle my tummy. “A Bobby talk, just for you.”

I giggle a little, even though I’m still mad. “Can’t sleep,” I say.

“Yes, you can.” Daddy tucks me in again, puts Teddy next to me, and kisses my forehead. “Close your eyes. It will be okay.”

I yawn, even though I don’t want to. “You’ll come back?”

“Of course.”

I believe him, because he’s Daddy. He’s Daddy, and he doesn’t lie.

So I hold Teddy tight and close my eyes and go to sleep, just like he says. I hear Daddy close the door as he leaves, his footsteps going down the hall. I lie there and think about seeing Mommy, think about being a family again, until I fall asleep.

---

Only, I don’t sleep very well. I keep hearing voices, arguing, shouting, like when Mommy and Daddy and Daniel fight after my bedtime. I hear Great-Aunt Florence scream.

The screaming doesn't wake me up, not all the way. It's sort of just like a dream. What wakes me up is Daniel. I hear him shouting my name—Bobby, Bobby—and I hear his footsteps pounding in the hall. Maybe he's coming to get me. I get out of bed and go to open the door. But before I get there, there is a loud thud outside, and Daniel groans. And I hear Mommy's voice, tight, angry, saying, "Don't you dare!"

I whip open the door just as Daniel says, "Janet…" And his eyes bug out when he sees me. "Bobby," he says.

He is lying on the floor and his shirt is all red and wet, and he's trying to crawl across the floor. But Mommy steps in front of him. "Baby," she says, and holds her arms out for a hug.

"Mommy?" I say. I don't let go of the doorknob.

"Bobby… you let them in?" Daniel says behind Mommy. His voice is rough. The red is spilling over his lips when he talks—Blood, I think. Blood. "You let them in? Why—"

"That's enough," Mommy snaps, and then she stomps on Daniel's hand. Daniel cries out. I step a few steps back into my room, whimpering a little and trying not to cry, because I don't know why this is happening. This isn't something Mommy would do. She fights with Daniel all the time, but she’s never stomped on his hand…

I clutch the doorknob and rub my eyes and stare at Mommy and think about what Daniel said That Night: That's not Daddy. And maybe not Mommy either.

"Run," Daniel says. He makes a sound like he's going to throw up. "Bobby, ru—"

"Son. Please." It's Daddy, coming up behind Daniel. He crouches beside Daniel on the floor and puts his hand on his head. "Relax. Just relax. This will all be done soon, and then you'll feel so much better."

Daniel sounds like he's going to cry, too. He's wiggling around like he wants to get away from Daddy, but he isn't moving much at all. Daddy's mouth is red like Daniel's. He wipes it with his sleeve. Bad table manners.

"Daddy?" I whisper. "Mommy? What's going on? What's… what's wrong with Daniel?"

"Buddy, please, everything is…" Daddy sounds impatient. "Jan?" he says to Mommy.

Mommy comes and picks me up before I can decide if I want her to. But she hugs me and says, "Bobby, baby," and it feels good, and I sort of don't mind anymore. She doesn't smell like Mommy, but her hugs feel just the same.

"Mommy?" I say, and I hug her around the neck. "What's wrong with Daniel?"

"He's just sick, honey. He'll feel better in the morning." Mommy kisses my forehead. Her mouth leaves a sticky patch behind. "Come on. I'm going to tell you a bedtime story."

She goes into my room and closes the door behind her. Daniel is still calling my name in the room, but Daddy is shushing him. He must be really sick.

"Where did you go?" I burrow my head into Mommy's neck. She feels cold. "I missed you and Daddy."

"I know, baby." Mommy sets me on the bed and climbs in beside me. "It's all okay now. We found you, and we're going to be a family again."

"Really? You promise, promise?" Daniel must not have known. He doesn't know everything. Mommy says that all the time: You don’t know everything, Daniel. But ever since That Night, Daniel’s known so much.

"I promise, promise." Mommy tucks us both in and pulls me into her lap. She strokes my hair and hums my favorite lullaby, and my eyelids droop, even though I'm not tired at all. "We're going to be a family forever."

"Good," I say.

"We'll never leave you again. Never ever."

"That's what I want." I shut my eyes and cling to Mommy as she pulls me closer. She's holding me like a baby. She rocks me and hums and hums til I feel sleepier than ever before.

I yawn big big, and squeeze my eyes open one more time to look at Mommy and say, "Mommy? Will Daddy really teach me to fly?"

"Of course, baby." Mommy shuts my eyes with her hands and hugs me close. "When you wake up… oh, we'll have so many things to teach you."

It's so so easy to get sleepier and sleepier, to relax and drift off in Mommy's arms. She leans down to kiss me goodnight, kisses me all over my face.

I’m almost asleep when she finds my neck, where her kisses hurt, where they sting like a pinch—like the Doctors always say, Little pinch, or Little ouchie… It is a little ouchie. Almost like a bite.

But I'm not scared. It's just Mommy.

#i wrote this #writing #short story #horror #vampires #halloween #fiction #blood tw #the italics are fucked but im too lazy to fix it

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sundrop-tetsu · 2 years

Text

mike’s compliment

teenage!michael afton x fem!reader

the idea alone of michael being that cliche bad boy in school and you being the new girl in school who dresses however the fuck she wants regardless of the dress code just thrills me ;) enjoy !!

side note: based on a tiktok, inspiration arrives in the most funniest ways :p this is also a small drabble (kinda-) I didn’t wanna make this into a full fic so-

(c/y/c): color of your choice

a chuckle escaped your lips as you crossed your arms, your expression of disbelief staring back at your new home room teacher.

“what the hell is wrong with my haircut exactly?” you exclaimed, the lollipop in your mouth tainting your pretty lips red as you swirled it around

“you deliberately disobeyed the dress code rules. your entire hair is (c/y/c) and it’s entirely distracting!”

this time michael let a laugh escape, you noticed and a smile painted your pretty face.

mrs. reynolds sighed, “y/n, just please go to the principal’s office. i need to write you up.”

you blinked in disbelief, not actually believing a school in the united kingdom could ever do something like that.

“literally just because of a haircut?! don’t be fucking serious. what is wrong with you? if anything, you’re distracting the entire class just because you felt the need to comment on my awesome haircut.” you argued with her, sitting up in your seat, taking the lollipop out of your mouth with a small pop.

“it’s not just about the haircut! it’s you— you look like—” she paused, not finding the right words.

“what?,” you laughed, “I look like a what, teach?”

a puff of smoke caught you off guard before you heard his voice, “you look like a hooker”

“you think?” a beautiful smile pointed at him as michael smirked at you, nodding as you felt stupid butterflies in your tummy due to how good looking he truly was.

“that is not a compliment, y/n!” mrs. reynolds quickly scolded you, not believing you would basically thank michael afton for ever saying that to you.

“from michael?,” you questioned, looking over at him as his pretty blue eyes stared into your own, “totally is”

another chuckle left his lips, “hookers are hot”

“see?” you gave a small smirk to your teacher, popping the lollipop back into your mouth.

yea okay, so maybe arguing with your teacher about both your outfit choice and hair wasn’t such a good idea as you sat in the principal’s office with your mother.

the principal sighed, clearly hating his job, “mr. afton, please stop arguing with me. you’re here for a reason.”

“clearly not. according to mike, all he did was compliment this girl and she seemed to like it. so what the fuck are we doing here?” william snapped again.

mrs. reynolds noticeably gulped before speaking, being incredibly obvious of her new found fear of michael’s father, “it’s the comment alone that he said, it’s not a compliment. not to mention, this is the 5th time that michael has been told to stop smoking in class and it’s only monday!”

“what?” clara jumped in, she turned towards her eldest son, “I thought we took your cigarettes away. where did you get new ones?”

michael shrugged before shrinking in his seat, feeling guilty for worrying his mother, “sorry mum,” he apologized before handing her the cigs he was carrying for today. she nodded understandingly but still gave him a stern expression, letting him know this conversation would continue at home in a safe place

“that all?” william glared again, “there was no reason to bother us. my wife and I work very hard and to be pulled away from our jobs for a little problem—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, mr. afton,” your mother interjected, “but I’d like to know what the fuck I’m exactly doing here.”

you held in a laugh, you’ve always loved how your mother handles situations.

“this is because of the way your daughter is dressed. we have a very strict dress code,” the principal began, “the girl was called a hooker. don’t you think you should raise your daughter better?”

a silence followed the room before your mother got up and lunged forward, slapping the principally across the face, earning a fit of laughs from both you and michael, a smirk from william, a supportive clara, and a shocked mrs. reynolds.

“how dare you insinuate that I don’t raise my kid well? y/n is a perfectly good person and daughter. fuck your dress code, she looks fucking gorgeous. now, was it michael who called her a hooker?” your mom continued.

“y-yes it was—” mrs. reynolds nervously replied, in fear that she may get hit as well by your badass mother.

“michael,” she turned to him, “did you mean it in a bad way or are you just calling her hot?”

“with all due respect, that woman could be wearing sweatpants and I’d still call her hot.” a small wink was thrown your way, those stupid butterflies returning to your stomach.

“y/n, are you upset that he called a hooker?” your mother asked you

“nope,” you smiled, “in fact, it felt like he said it just to piss off mrs. reynolds who apparently hates my haircut and my clothes.”

“okay so again, what the fuck are we doing here?!” your mother slammed her hand on the principal’s table, “change. the. dress code. you’ve bothered both me and the aftons long enough. our kids are fine and we all are great parents. have a shitty day, let’s go, honey.”

you followed behind, a smirk on your face as you softly waved goodbye to mrs. reynolds, “told ya coming from mike it was a compliment.”

before you could fully leave the room, michael grabbed a hold of your wrist, slipping a piece of paper into your hand.

“I’d love to take you out sometime?” he shyly asked.

you blinked, realizing that even though michael seemed like a troublemaker and acted tough, he was human and got shy when things like this happened. you nodded at him, leaning in and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

“you look like a hooker too.” you whispered before walking away, scolding yourself as you realized it sounded stupid.

“I’m sorry, what-” clara broke the silence, confused by your choice of words.

michael sighed with a stupid loving look in his eyes as he watched you leave, “she called me hot, mum. her, of all people.”

“oh jeez, michael.” william sighed, not believing his son would be so honored by a compliment like that

“it’s alright, we’ll fix it,” clara smiled, “our future daughter-in-law is perfect. let’s go, michael. we need new clothes and i can teach you how to be nice to girls.” she smiled proudly before taking her son’s hand and walking out

“are you all always like this?” the principal scoffed, still holding his cheek from when he was slapped

william smiled, the same smile he had given to those kids he killed a night before, “what’s life without a little glitched out experience?”

the look he had given both of them created shivers as william walked away, heading towards his beautiful family’s direction

#🐝amelia.writes #michael afton headcanons #michael afton x you #fnaf michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton #michael afton scenarios #michael afton fluff #fnaf #fnaf fluff #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #tw cussing

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void-ink-studios · 4 months

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Unusual Featers

Have some original writing that I submitted to a magazine, as I lie here trying to recover from a sinus infection.

Enjoy y'all.

Word Count: 4,100

How closely do you pay attention to the “people” that surround you? Do you know how many times you’ve passed by Something and just didn’t notice It?

Would you even spare a glance if you walked past something with eyes just a bit too big, or smiled with too many teeth? Do you think you’d notice if a voice reached your ears just a fraction of a second after their lips finished moving, or if their footsteps left no tracks and made no sounds? What if someone’s reflection was ever so slightly delayed, or they didn’t cast a shadow?

It’s something I’ve been thinking about for most of my life, ever since I first started to notice Them.

I want to say it just… started happening one day. That, once upon a time, my life was normal, and then it suddenly wasn’t. Starting this story like it was normal might give you the wrong impression, that this story might end neatly, with a nice bow on top. But normalcy was never a luxury they afforded me.

Every day, I wake up and hope to whatever god may be out there that they’d give me a break, for just one day. And every day, I’m punished for it.

All my life, I’ve noticed things. My crime was that I tried to point them out.

I first noticed there was something that stood in the linen closet in my childhood home, just barely hiding its form in the shadows cast by the slats in the door. It liked to use my parent’s voice, calling to me.

Then it was the eyes and mouths in the bright flowers outside my school, hidden amongst the pink and red petals, watching me, whispering. Their gaze always followed me, either unblinking, or blinking sideways.

Then it was the invisible man who hid in the church bathroom, who I could barely see in the mirror glass. He liked to touch me on the back of my neck and shoulders, I could feel the calluses on his fingertips, ones used to the rough wood of the ceiling beams high above the pews.

I don’t think they wanted to be noticed. I don’t know if they really understood I couldn’t help it, not when they kept watching, calling, touching me. I sometimes think back and wonder if I had just let them then… maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to punish me.

The thing in the linen closet’s words became a lot harsher when I begged my mom to look. The flower’s gaze became much more piercing when I ripped a bouquet of them up to show a teacher. The man in the bathroom’s grip was a lot tighter when I tried to tell the preacher.

No one else seemed to notice them.

I remember seeing a lot of doctors. I remember my mother asking where she went wrong and my father shaking his head mumbling how I wasn’t right. I remember being handed pills, lots of pills, pills of so many colors and sizes. And the doctors would ask me the same question.

“Sam, do you still ‘notice’ things?”

I was honest, at first, when the doctor had a kind smile and a gentle voice.

“Of course I do. But they don’t like it when I talk to people about them.” I wrung my hands together. I could see the bugs crawling in the doctor’s hair.

She gave me a sad smile.

“Sam, we can’t help you get better if you don’t talk about them. Don’t you want to get better? You have to try for me.”

I looked anywhere but at her. Anywhere but the bugs with human eyes on their backs.

“Sam. Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Sam. Now.”

I never liked it when her voice dropped to that tone. “Please, no…”

“Sam, why can’t you look at me?”

“Because I don’t want to look at the bugs crawling in your hair!”

The doctor said she couldn’t help me anymore. I didn’t want to get better, apparently. The new doctor didn’t smile, and he wouldn’t look up from his clipboard as he kept asking me the same questions. He yelled a lot more. Gave me more pills.

The pills made me feel sick. They told me they were supposed to make me stop noticing things. But, I still saw them, standing at the foot of my bed, or watching me from the doorway. Laughing at me.

The pills would work eventually, if I just wanted to be better hard enough. I wasn’t trying hard enough, although I’m not sure how I was meant to try and not see. That’s what they told me, anyway.

“Sam, do you still ‘notice’ things?”

“...No sir.”

I stuck to the pills that made me the least sick, and just tried to keep the doctor happy.

Things almost felt normal after that. Take the pill, lie to the doctor, smile at my parents, and live. I made friends. I started to write, never about them though. Not when they moved to the shadowy corner of my room, daring me to do something about it. I’m not even sure if they ever forgave me in the first place, now that they knew I was looking back. At some point they just became part of my nightly routine, unmoving, unblinking.

I thought I had left them behind when I finally moved away. A newspaper in the nearby city decided they liked my style, and bought me a one way train ticket. I thought- hoped- I had finally escaped. They could stay in my house, in the church, among the corn fields. And I’d be too far away to notice them. Win-win, right?

I don’t know why I thought I’d ever get to be that lucky.

Everything was fine at first. I finally got to stop taking the pills. It was the first thing I did when I moved in, dumping those awful pills down the sink. This was my new start, in a new job, in a new city, where I was just Sam, the Business and Economy editor. The only thing I noticed were typos and formatting errors that Mindy would make on her articles. The streets were busy, alive, but none of it was looking at me. It was perfect.

Until one of them walked past me.

It was on one of those busy city roads, where the people were packed together and walking past each other like ants. I felt occasional brushes of fingers and shoulders, but none of the eyes on me. The sky smelled wet, heavy with rain, with cigarette smoke wafting in the air from the alley. The rhythm of the streets had become a soothing background song, one I much preferred to the still silence of home.

The thing that walked past me was slouched. It tucked itself away in a ratty old coat, a wool hat pulled as far down its head as possible, but the wind made that tricky. I had looked up, on a chance, to see the hat swept away in the breeze. I had only just managed to catch it, waving it over my head like a flag as the figure seemed content with going on without it.

“Sir! Sir, your hat!”

It stopped. It turned its head toward me, tilting slightly. My bones ached for a moment as it slowly walked up to me, taking its hat back.

Our eyes locked. It turned its head, smiled, and then went on its way.

It was the smile. It was too wide. I know some people smile with their cheeks, they use all the space on their face. But that wasn’t what this was. Its smile stretched past what I was pretty sure was possible. Past its cheeks, the corners of the mouth encroaching near its eyes. And there was nothing behind the grin. Nothing at all.

I stopped, watching it walk away, amongst everyone. And no one noticed it. It got to slink around the corner, and vanish, and no one else noticed it.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, looking at the street corner it disappeared behind. I think a few people cursed at me as they shoved past. I felt my legs threaten to buckle.

I retreated into an alley. I could hear the blood rushing through my ears, my heart thudding in my chest and rattling my skull. I gripped my sweater, knuckles turning white.

I tried to think. Recall what the doctors liked to say.

“What you’re seeing is just your brain projecting the delusions onto the real. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

“They’re not real. They don’t exist. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I tried to see the reason. Maybe the light just cast strange shadows on the face to make the smile look larger? Maybe the man just had one of those strange faces that had a bit wider a mouth and I just overreacted.

I breathed. In. Out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count the seconds between breaths.

I pushed myself off the alley wall. I looked up and down the street, at the people passing by. No one noticed me looking, no one looked back, aside from the strange looks a smoker gave me when I came flying in.

I paid him no mind. I dusted myself off, feeling my heart in my chest settle.

“They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I didn’t need to spend any longer dealing with my own nonsense. I probably had a stack of papers to edit by now, no time to spare. I seamlessly rejoined the march of the sidewalk. I was safe in the crowd.

I was safe.

It was almost two weeks before I saw another one, this time in a grocery store. It wasn’t a particularly nice one, the floor was sticky and the lights gave off an annoying buzz. But it was familiar to me now. It all just melted into the background as I lazily trailed up and down the aisles, humming nonsense.

It looked like a woman this time, in a pretty little flower dress. It reminded me of a girl I once knew in college, one that made smiling easy and my chest relax. It was looking at something on the top shelf, a bag of chips.

I’m decently tall, why not be polite?

“Need any help, Miss?”

It jumped a little, turning its head to look at me. It recovered quickly, and smiled a perfectly average smile. Then it reached up.

It didn’t break eye contact with me as its arm extended about a foot too long to grab the brightly colored bag. It just kept smiling. It returned its arm to its side, perfectly even with the other as it turned a corner and disappeared into another aisle.

I went home immediately after that. I had considered abandoning my cart and running home, but I wasn’t going to let it see me panic. I didn’t see it again, either in another aisle or even in check out.

“They’re not real. They don’t exist. They’re not real. They don’t exist.”

I tried to reason again, but it was harder this time. Maybe I… just misjudged her height? Maybe she was taller than I thought and she was perfectly capable of reaching things for herself?

That didn’t explain the eye contact. The little smile. The knowing smile. Was she just telling me to go away, in her own, creepy way?

I didn’t know. The explanation didn’t sit well in my belly when I went to bed that night. I ordered a new prescription of pills the very next morning. I dreaded the return of the head fog and nausea, but at least it would help me stop noticing them, right? I think I knew I was lying to myself the second I called the pharmacy. They told me it’d be ready the next day. I told them that would be perfect.

I had hoped they’d give me the courtesy of waiting a few more days before appearing again.

I didn’t even get 24 hours.

It was my day off, I just wanted to walk in the park. There was a little section off the hiking path, a spot along a creek, under a shady tree with a bird house. It was my little place to relax. My spot to listen to the birds and the creek, and trace my fingers against the shadows cast to the grass.

There was something in my place that day.

I hesitated for a moment. Then I remembered the pills and breathed a small sigh. I didn’t mind sharing the little section of the creek, it’s not like I owned the park. I gave a polite smile as I sat down with my lunch.

“Beautiful day today, yeah?”

It seemed a little startled by my voice, jumping just a little. It turned to look at me, smiling, shrugging its shoulders. It wouldn’t have looked too out of place in the writer’s room at my office. Smart suit, nice shoes, expensive looking watch, hair thinning on the top. I idly wondered if I had edited anything for him.

It stood and stared at me for a few moments. Waiting for something. I’m not sure what it wanted, and I didn’t figure it out before it left.

My place at the creek was shady. The tree provided a nice shelter from the hot sun. But the day was bright and clear, not a cloud in the sky.

So then why didn’t the thing that walked away cast a shadow?

It was hard to notice when it stood under the tree, the shadows laced together in a chaotic web. But it didn’t cast a shadow, even in broad daylight. I even checked, after it left, I looked at my shadow stretched across the grass.

It didn’t cast a shadow.

“They’re not real.”

I cast a shadow, and I stood in the exact same spot.

“They don’t exist.”

There were no clouds in the sky.

“They’re not real.”

There was no reason it shouldn’t cast a shadow.

“They don’t… exist…”

I felt the words die in my throat the more I said them. I went home, prescription in hands, and I took two pills. I curled under my bed covers as I felt the fog settle over my mind.

I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t, not when I could feel one of them watching me from my window.

I didn’t turn over to look at it. That’d just make it angrier. I tried not to writhe as I felt the gaze tracing my body up and down, examining every detail, despite my attempts to hide under the covers. I heard it laugh.

They vanished for a few days after that. I still felt the eyes through my bedroom window, but if I kept my back to that wall, I could at least pretend it wasn’t there.

Things were quiet for nearly a week. Nearly one, merciful week. Maybe the pills had finally worked.

It was the sixth day after my observer first appeared that I saw more than one in a day.

I had stopped being polite in hopes I wouldn’t encounter any more of them. I didn’t speak to people, certainly didn’t maintain eye contact for longer than brief moments. I hadn’t expected them to approach me.

It was a simple tap on my shoulder. I was waiting for my bus, hunched over the bench, when a finger tapped on my shoulder.

I looked up. And there was nothing looking back at me.

Its eyes swallowed the light around us. I could see my own reflection in the round black mirrors, ones just a bit too large for its head.

It smiled at me, and I lurched up and out of my seat.

I looked around. There were people sitting next to me, one man smoking a cigarette. They all stared at me. Not the thing with pieces of black glass in place of eyeballs. At me.

I looked at it. It just kept smiling.

“...Kid, are you okay?”

I whirled around, facing the man with the cigarette. He had this flat, stern look to his face, one that reminded me of an annoyed principal. But I could at least tell he was human.

I looked at the thing behind the bench.

“D-Do you… notice anything… weird? Anything about her?”

I hated the warble in my voice. The pitiful little trip up, it made me feel tiny. It felt like I was back to the wriggling. The man raised an eyebrow at me, flicking his gaze between it and me. His face made a disapproving scowl, one I flinched under.

“That ain’t a polite thing to say about a lady, son. Mind your business.”

The thing looking at me just kept smiling.

“...I… I guess not… I’m sorry…”

The second one didn’t approach me, but it didn’t have to. I noticed it, from a mile away. It was waiting for me. It just smiled, just like the others and waved. Waved at me with fingers too long, bent at impossible angles, before disappearing into the crowd, just like the first I saw all those weeks ago.

They were getting bolder, I knew they were.

My nighttime observer had friends now, apparently. I heard them crunching the leaves outside my house as they walked around. But one was always posted by my window. Always a set of eyes on me.

I paced around my house for hours, locking and unlocking and relocking the windows. Pulling them, pushing them, tapping on the glass. Just to be sure.

Just to be sure.

I could hear them messing with the windows. The small clunk as they tried and failed to open them. They’re waiting for me to mess up. My pacing was at least not for nothing.

I saw them everywhere.

On the streets, following me home.

At my favorite take out restaurant, trying to slip something into my food.

At my workplace, trying to get me fired.

They’re everywhere. Watching. Smiling. Laughing. Laughing at me.

I finally called the police when I heard one of them scraping at my front door. I had had enough. They were getting too bold, too sure that they had me cornered, like a pitiful little injured animal.

I nearly cried when they didn’t find anything. No evidence of anyone being near my home. Not even foot prints. But I could see them. Watching me, through the tree line, I could see them. I could see them smiling.

I begged the police to look again, to please look a little closer. That I knew someone was there, watching me, trying to break in.

I didn’t mean to grab the policeman's arm. But he made certain I knew that if I called again, it’d be me in handcuffs.

I was never one to think too much about guns. I knew my father owned one, one he used to hunt deer that tried to eat the corn. It was loud, it nearly broke my hand when he made me learn to shoot it. I didn’t think too much about it after I moved.

I thought myself silly for not thinking of it, now that I clutched a rifle in my hands as I huddled in my bedroom corner. I could hear them tapping on the windows.

My coworkers noticed my deteriorating state, I think. I was getting sloppy. Making mistakes. Snapping at people.

My boss, as well intentioned as she was, doomed me. Put me on mandatory vacation for a few days. “Just get some rest,” she said. “Mindy says you’ve been giving her weird looks all day.”

Mindy was one of them, I knew she was. I always thought her legs seemed to bend in the wrong direction.

I don’t remember what I said to her, only that I was told very firmly by security to leave before police were called. I don’t know why I wasn’t fired on the spot.

I barricaded my doors. I hadn’t moved from the bedroom in three days. I kept the gun clutched to my chest until my knuckles were white. I could hear them tapping. Never ending tapping.

My eyelids were so heavy. I was hungry. I hadn’t slept in days.

I was weak.

I was so very weak.

I don’t remember closing my eyes, but I must’ve at some point. I know that, because I opened them staring into something I couldn’t explain.

It was on my bed on top of me. It was vaguely human shaped, sitting on my chest, perched like a gargoyle. Its knees were tucked under its chin, its hands resting atop them. Its fingers danced like they were playing an invisible keyboard.

They had found a way in. I don’t know how, but they found a way in.

I looked up into its face. Or, I tried at least.

I had the sensation that I was seeing something I absolutely should not have seen. The face of a divinity I don't worship, the smile of a devil I had never believed in. Trying to look at its face directly gave me a splitting migraine, my eyes diverting to one side or the other.

My eyes flicked around. They were all standing there. Still, like store mannequins, but smiling. Unblinking. Unmoving. But still smiling. There were dozens, all crammed into my room.

I tried to scream.

The thing on my chest snapped one of its hands to my mouth, the scream dying in my throat. Its body barely moved at the sudden motion. It covered my mouth and nose, my eyes widening as it started to squeeze.

It tilted its head at me. Slowly, precisely, it brought its other hand to its smiling lips.

“Shhh.”

That was the last thing I noticed before the black spots overcame my vision.

I awoke the next morning, still on my bed. My room was empty, undisturbed. My barricade was still there. My gun was kicked across the room.

There was a feeling, deep down in my bones, that something was wrong. Deeply, fundamentally wrong. My skin wasn’t mine anymore, my teeth had been replaced, my fingers had been plucked off and replaced by duplicates so precisely there weren’t scars.

I looked in the mirror. I searched for what was wrong, there had to be something wrong, I could feel it. Were my eyes a different, unsettling color? Did my teeth look too small? Something was wrong, I knew something was wrong, but my eyes refused to focus on it.

I needed air. Fresh air, despite everything.

I bundled myself in as many layers as I could, I tried to cover every inch of my warped flesh and face.

I took a walk. I didn’t know where to, I just needed to walk. I tried to keep my head down, draw as little attention to myself as I could.

But… As I walked, I noticed something. No one was looking at me. I nearly crashed into several people, and they acted like they hadn’t seen me.

Could they see me?

Was I… unnoticed?

I stood in the middle of the sidewalk. I tried to say hello. I waved, I yelled, I made an idiot of myself.

They all walked past me, looked through me, couldn’t hear me.

My mind reeled.

This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To not be noticed? No one would notice what was wrong with me, no one would tell me to shut up or give me pills ever again.

I felt free.

For the first time in my life, I felt free to exist.. Was this what they all felt? Where were they, anyway? They had been following me for weeks, and now… nothing.

I haven’t seen any of them again, even after a month of me dancing through life. I waited for the other shoe to drop, there was no way my punishment was over, right? And yet… nothing.

I sat down and took a breath. I looked across the river, leaning against a tree.

And then I saw him. Or, more accurately, he saw me.

He stared. He looked horrified.

He saw me. He noticed me.

I don’t know what he saw. Something on me, something about me, I didn’t know and it didn’t matter. Because he saw something.

He noticed things too.

No. No, I was not going back to this, not after a taste of freedom. I didn’t want to be noticed again. I refused to be noticed again.

I don’t know how long I followed him. But I saw him disappear into a house. Perfect.

I knew where to find him later.

#my writing #original writing #writblr #horror writing #uncanny valley #implied body horror

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 10 months

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The Girls’ Trip Fairy Tale Ending--Chapter 2 of 5

Summary: This is my combined birthday gift for Joni ( @jrob64 ), Marta ( @snowbellewells ) and Krystal ( @kmomof4 ). Happy birthday ladies! Four fandom friends are nearing the end of their annual girls’ trip when they’re suddenly visited by Isaac, the author before Henry. He gives them an each a gift--an opportunity to jump into any scene in the storybook they want and fix it. Large focus on CS, although other characters and relationships will be explored. A big shoutout to @hollyethecurious and @winterbaby89 for betaing!

Word Count: 2116

Other chapters: (1) (3) (4)

Can also be found on: (ao3) (ff.net)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 2

Joni dropped to the ground with an “oof”. She rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and brushed herself off. She really shouldn’t be surprised that Isaac made stepping into the book this difficult, should she?

Looking around, she found herself in the giant’s outer courtyard. She couldn’t be entirely sure when in the story she’d landed, but she knew what she wanted to fix, so she could make a relatively educated guess. At any rate, the action was taking place inside, so that’s where she needed to be.

Joni made her way through the giant’s enormous front door and looked around. In one corner stood the giant pile of rubble under which she knew Hook was currently buried. As she began the rather long trek toward him, she saw Emma rush in and begin moving stones and then reaching for the man buried beneath.

It was a surreal feeling, Joni thought, as she continued forward. She was about to meet her favorite characters. Oh, she’d met Colin O’Donoghue at a con, of course, but Colin was not Hook. She knew, however, that this was not the time for fangirling. This was the time to make her plan about how she was going to fix this situation.

She had to get to them before Emma left Hook behind! If she didn’t make it in time, she could free him herself, of course, but it wouldn’t have the same effect. She needed Emma to realize she could trust him.

“Swan!”

Joni heard Hook’s furious shout just as Emma turned and fairly sprinted toward the castle door, and Joni knew this was her chance. She stopped Emma with a hand to her shoulder.

“Think about what you’re doing,” Joni said softly.

“I am!” Emma said with a growl. “I’m doing what I have to do to get back to my son!”

Joni shook her head. “No, you’re not, you’re running. I heard what you said, that you can’t take a chance that you’re wrong about him. You’re not.”

“How the hell would you know that?” Emma retorted angrily. “He’s a pirate, and we both just met him!”

“I know that because …” Joni thought fast, searching for some way to explain her knowledge of Hook’s character. Suddenly she smiled. “I know that because I know you. I know your superpower.”

“And?”

“And, look at what you said!” Joni replied. “You didn’t say you think he’s untrustworthy. You said you can’t take a chance that you’re wrong about him. If that’s the case, that means you know deep down that you can trust him. You’re just afraid.”

Emma crossed her arms and frowned. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of him becoming important to you.”

Emma glanced aside, making a skeptical sound.

“Look,” Joni said, “It’s not like I’m saying you need to fall in love with the guy, go through literal hell to save him, get married and have his baby or anything. I’m just saying, let’s be strategic about this. Even if you aren’t ready to fully trust him, think about it. He may be… squirrelly… but he’s proven himself to be resourceful, and he’s knowledgeable about both this land and about Cora’s plans. He can be a huge asset to us.”

That seemed to get through to her. For a moment, all that could be heard was Hook’s continued colorful invectives and shouts of her name. Finally Emma nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I was a teacher, after all,” Joni said. “I know things.”

“Besides,” Emma said, “we’re probably better off keeping him with us than against us.”

“So let’s go free him and get off this beanstalk before Mulan cuts it down,” Joni said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joni opened her eyes, not even aware she’d closed them. Looking around, she realized she was no longer on the beanstalk. She was in a dank stone cave, behind a set of spiky bars.

Rumplestiltskin’s cell.

It was eerie how she randomly traveled from place to place, from time to time, within this story. It was more than a little disconcerting and disorienting.

Shaking her head, Joni decided to put aside her musings of how she got here for later and just focus on the situation at hand. She’d accomplished her objective at the top of the beanstalk, so she assumed the rest of her adventure–whatever that may consist of–must largely involve her observing what was going on around her, rather than affecting the outcome–although, make no mistake. If Isaac continued to make them do stupid things, she was getting involved.

That being the case, she looked around seeing Aurora in the far corner of the cell, bemoaning the fact that this was her fault, because she’d let Cora take her heart. Beside her, Mulan comforted her. Emma stood at the bars, hacking fruitlessly away at them with her sword, while Mary Margaret and Hook stood back and watched.

“That won’t work, love,” Hook said, stepping up to Emma and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Rumplestiltskin himself couldn’t break out of these bars.”

The fight drained from Emma, and she slowly slid down until she was seated on the stone floor against the wall, her head bowed, defeat written all over her face.

“It’s pointless anyway,” Emma said finally. “She’s got the dust; she’s got the compass. She’s probably in Storybrooke already and we’re still stuck here with no way out.”

“Emma, we’ll find a way!” Snow White said cheerfully, taking a seat beside her daughter and hugging her. “We will succeed.”

“Really?” Emma asked, turning jaded eyes her way. “How exactly will we do that? What the hell use are any of us against a witch as powerful as Cora?”

“Far be it from me to side with the heroes,” Hook said, taking a seat opposite Emma, “but I must agree with your mother here, Swan. Look at this. Look closely.”

Hook produced the scroll on which Rumple had written Emma’s name over and over and over again, presenting it to her.

Emma scoffed.

“I’m quite serious, love,” Hook continued. “My old demon may be a right bastard, but he could see the future, and he knew you would be extraordinary.”

“Is that what you think this parchment is about?” Emma asked, tossing it back at him. “I’m not extraordinary. I’m not a savior. I’m only what he made me. All that’s special about me is due to the fact that Rumple-freaking-stiltskin needed someone to break his curse so he could… well I have no idea what his big plan is, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Hook shook his head. “The Dark One may be able to manipulate circumstances to achieve his ends, but he doesn’t have the power to make someone something that they’re not. You’re not special because the Dark One wrote your name on this parchment in squid ink. The Dark One wrote your name on this parchment in squid ink because you’re special.”

Suddenly Hook got to his feet, excitement in his eyes. “The squid ink! I know how we can get out of here and stop Cora!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joni blinked, and suddenly she found herself on the banks of Lake Nostos.

Interesting.

She couldn’t wait to see how this scene played out given the changes she’d made.

All around her was chaos. Cora tossed magic and fireballs in every direction, while the princess squad and Hook fought her off, looking for an opening, any way to separate her from the compass. Next to them, the lake swirled and bubbled.

A fireball whizzed past Joni’s head, and she had to lean back in order to avoid it. She wondered about the rules of this situation Isaac had put her into. What would happen to a person from the real world if they got killed within the storybook? Would they stay dead?

She decided she didn’t want to find out. Taking several steps back, she separated herself from the action.

All around her, the scene played out much as it had in canon. Snow managed to shoot the compass from Cora’s hand. Mulan deflected her magic with her sword. Emma ran off in search of the now liberated compass, and Hook saved Aurora’s heart with his cheeky line about women losing their hearts over them.

Suddenly, Emma spotted the compass in the sand, and turned to reach for it just as Cora sent a bolt of magic her way.

“Look out, Swan!” Hook shouted, seeing the danger approaching. He launched himself into her, knocking her flat on her back, and landing atop her. He quickly levered himself up so as not to crush her, but Joni could see the flirtatious look in his eyes when he realized their compromising position.

“Normally, I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back,” he said cheekily. “With our lives on the line, though, you’ve left me with no choice.”

Emma rolled her eyes, and pushed him aside. “What, you gonna be all pirate-y and jab me with your sword?”

Hook got to his feet and offered her a hand up as he chuckled,then leaned in and winked at her. His grin turned wicked while his voice got low and intimate. “When I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it.”

For a moment, Emma seemed lost in those flirtatious eyes (and Joni wondered how anyone could blame her), but then she shook her head, and reached down for the compass.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joni felt herself being pulled away, and she could tell something was different as scenes began to flash past her. It was as though previously she’d been a part of the action, and now she was watching a montage of the rest of season 2.

Much of the action played out the same as it had in canon.

There were some differences, of course. Without Hook and the desiccated bean he’d kept, Cora was never able to get to Storybrooke. Consequently, she was never able to turn Regina fully to her side, nor was Archie ever believed to be dead, nor did the Mills women kill Johanna.

Joni had hoped her intervention would have been enough to keep Hook on team hero, but it proved to be too big an ask. He was intrigued by Emma already, of course, but it wasn’t enough to turn him from his life’s purpose. He’d slunk off as soon as he’d emerged from the wishing well, looking for an opportunity to properly skin his crocodile. He’d indeed followed Emma and Rumple to New York and stabbed him. He’d indeed made the (incredibly stupid) choice to throw in his lot with Greg and Tamara.

And in the end, he’d indeed returned to team hero at the last minute with the bean needed to get them to Neverland to rescue Henry.

All in all, Joni’s actions had created little more than a ripple in the initial story, but as the story moved forward, that ripple grew and spread. Emma was quicker to trust him, their bond stronger from the first. Opening her heart to the possibilities Hook represented made it far easier for him to climb inside and heal the broken pieces within.

Isaac may have made dire predictions about the problems meddling with his precious storyline would cause, but Joni knew the truth: She’d made a difference for the good.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joni blinked once more, and suddenly she was back in the living room of the rental cabin, her friends and Isaac looking at her with eager eyes.

“So?” Krystal asked. “What happened? How was it?”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Isaac said. “No discussion until everyone’s had their turn! Who’s next?”

“I’ll go!” Marta said, setting her laptop aside and getting to her feet.

“Where to?” Isaac asked.

“I know just the scene,” Marta said.

Suddenly the pages of the book began to flutter again, and it opened to a page with the drawing of a large wolf and the Mills family mausoleum.

Notes:

–Happy birthday Joni! I hope your day is filled with happiness and pirates! (At least the hot fictional ones in black leather)

–When I asked what scene each person would want to go to to fix, Joni’s answer was the beanstalk. She wanted to tell Emma that she could trust that she was right about Hook, and so voila! Here is how I imagine that scene playing out–and the subsequent changes to season 2!

–Up next, on August 15, we have Marta’s birthday. To what is, I’m sure, absolutely NO ONE’S surprise, Marta requested a Graham scene. What would have happened if someone (Marta) convinced Emma that Graham was right about his heart and she was able to stop Regina before she crushed it?

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#ouat fanfiction #girls' trip fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #fandom friends' birthday fics #2x06 Tallahassee fanfiction #my fanfiction

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kasienda · 7 months

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Love Remains - Ch 5

Written for @thelibraryloser‘s birthday.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Read on Ao3

Chapter 5:

Thirty-Six Days Since Marinette Lost her Memory

“I’d like you to do a supplemental reading this weekend to fill in some of your historical gaps.”

Gaps was one word for it. She took the assignment without complaint though she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to do it.

“Girl! Why didn’t you say something?” Alya asked as they walked to their next class.

Marinette shrugged. “Because I do want to fill in my historical gaps?”

Like in an abstract way if she could just suddenly know it the way she knew how to swing through the city on a yo-yo. Not the I want to dedicate hours of my life to this kind of way.

“But you don’t have to do that all in one weekend!”

“Do you think old me would have said something?” Marinette doesn’t know why she’s asking. She hates the comparisons, but it’s like a scab she can’t help but pick at it when her friends and family keep commenting on how she’s different.

“You like the green one? I thought pink was your favorite color.”

It was! But that didn’t mean pink was always best for every single accessory.

“That’s a beautiful drawing,” her maman said of the sketch of her father. “Have you sketched any new designs recently?”

She hadn’t. She didn’t want to. Clothes weren’t interesting. But she knew her mother wanted her to say yes, so she hedged.

Lila had spilled coffee on Marinette’s bag in art class. It had definitely been on purpose. Marinette glared at the girl as she resolutely gathered all her things to clean elsewhere rather than dignifying Lila with a response.

“That was totally on purpose. Why didn’t you say anything?” Alya had asked after the fact.

Marinette piled her bag’s belongings carefully on a bench while she wrung out the backpack itself. “Didn’t really want her to know that she was getting to me.” Marinette’s diary had revealed that when Marinette make accusations against Lila, the other girl usually managed to twist it back on Marinette. She didn’t really want to make the same mistake when Lila didn’t believe she was holding a grudge. “Why?”

“Well, you used to always call her out on things. Chloé too.”

Marinette sighed. At least people had stopped asking what she remembered. Maybe they had finally figured out that she really didn’t remember anything.

But it seemed other people did and Marinette now was apparently different than the Marinette of old, and now Marinette was never sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“If old you thought the teacher was being unfair or unreasonable, she definitely would have said something, but she would have been totally silent than if she just didn’t have time.”

And thank goodness Alya was willing to be straightforward about such questions. Her parents were not. They were so diplomatic about answering such questions, but they always seemed sad.

She felt like she was disappointing them.

“What do you mean? You’re not disappointing them!” Alya had objected.

“But I am. They want me to be her, and when I’m not, they’re sad.”

“They’re just worried about you.”

Marinette pressed her lips together. Yeah Marientte definitely knew that they were worried. Paranoid was more apt. They constantly texted, wanting to know where she was, to remind her to put on a helmet, and asking for check ins everytime a friggin’ akuma alert went off.

Which made it that much harder to get away to be Ladybug.

And she loved being Ladybug.

Her parents would probably be horrified.

“I just wish being me as I am now was okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.”

“But it isn’t , Marinette insisted, wanting to tug at her pigtails. She didn’t know how to explain, and Alya was looking at her with glassy eyes and Marinette knew she was disappointing her, too, though Alya was better at hiding it than anyone.

“You know that she’s you, right?” Alya asked softly.

Marinette shrugged. She might be, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone else.

…

Literature had become more bearable now that they were starting a new novel. It was a story that no one in the class had read before. Marinette found the story riveting.

“Really?” Adrien asked. They had been partnered for a small presentation on the use of imagery in the book’s first three chapters. “What’s your favorite part so far?”

Goodness, he was so earnest. Even when they had been paired he had been so sweet about it when she was obviously the weaker link of the two of them.

“Sorry you were saddled with me for this project,” she had said.

“Marinette, you are the best partner to have in this whole world. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Her cheeks had burned. Was this guy for real? She might’ve maybe understood what it was old Marinette had liked about him.

Really she probably would have fallen for him too if it wasn’t for the fact that Chat Noir was right there guarding her life and being serving as the best sounding board and confidant a girl could ask for.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked after the most recent akuma.

She was fine. She just didn’t want to stop being Ladybug yet. Being Ladybug made sense. Being Ladybug was simple and something she was good at. Marinette’s life was so complicated.

“I’m okay,” she said, determined for it to be true.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Like, how did he do that?!

But fifteen minutes later they were sitting side by side on the Eiffel Tower each with their own ice cream cones as she vented to him about her mundane problems.

“I hate history. It’s the subject I know, like nothing about and my teacher— he’s trying to be patient, but he clearly doesn’t know what to do with me. He keeps assigning extra readings, but even when I have time to read them. They don’t mean anything.”

“That must be frustrating.”

She snorted. Understatement. “Even places on a map feel no more real than the map at the beginning of the fantasy novel we’re reading in literature.”

“I don’t know about history itself, but maybe we could do something about the geography?”

He stands up, and offers her a hand, which she of course takes. He pulls her to her feet like she’s a princess and pulls out a box of colored cheeses from his baton.

“What’s that?”

“These are power ups for our Kwamis.”

“We can power up our Kwamis?”

He offers her a piece of cheese. “Eat this one.” He takes one of the same color.

Soon they’re transformed. They have airtight helmets and wings. He levitates just barely into the air. She doesn’t move, staring dumbly at his offered hand.

“Come on. I’ll show you.” His voice resounds inside her helmet. It feels both like he’s far away and like he’s all around her.

She again takes it, because she’d trust him to take her anywhere.

He led her on a low altitude tour of Paris, pointing out landmarks that are historically significant. But he doesn’t just recount events. When he speaks of kings and dukes, he tells a story. And suddenly King Louis VI and King Louis the XIV are not only separated by time, but by personality and vision.

They’ve been flying for hours already, when he takes her higher. They’re above the clouds, starting to see the curvature of the earth when he points out Normandy, the United Kingdom, Germany, and Spain.

And then they’re further out, beyond even air they can breathe, and the Earth shines below them, a glowing blue marble in a vastness of inky blackness.

She can’t breathe as she takes in the sight. There’s a whole world down there. It’s so big, bigger than any of her problems, and yet it’s so small when they’re out here in space.

His voice is still describing the places they can see. Continents and oceans, but she can’t process the words anymore.

“M’lady?” he asks, floating to her side with yet another hand reaching out, offering her support again and again.

“You’re amazing!” she says, and is awarded with pink blooming underneath his visor. And he was. How did old Marinette never see or notice?!

He never takes anything seriously.

He’s always cracking jokes.

He flirts with everyone.

Marinette had slammed the diary closed after she read it. What the hell had old Marinette been talking about?!

She had started a new diary after that, and it definitely wasn’t Adrien she had been writing about.

Looking at his eyes now, even with only five weeks of memories she’s absolutely certain he’s the sweetest, most genuine boy that lives on the planet he just showed her. And he didn’t just show it to her. He made her see it, he made it real in a way that no one else had.

She reaches for his hand, lets their fingers interlock, and it feels right.

Holding his hand, she’s not worried about how she’s different or the same. It doesn’t matter what she remembers or has forgotten. With him, she feels like a whole complete person.

She loves that.

She loves him.

…

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #partial reveal #ladynoir #memory loss #amnesia #marinette gave up the guardianship and lost all her memories #not as angsty as the trope usually is #happy ending #my own content #love remains

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mashithamel · 8 months

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Full spoilery thoughts on S2E2 below the cut

- I feel confident the guard checking Rand’s pass is the same guy who sees him every single day, and still asks to see it every single time

- I love how the couple passing Rand make sure to step quite to the side to avoid brushing into a poor. And how they don’t need to spell out the sharp divide between the Foregate people and the wealthy inside the walls, they just show it.

- I was definitely hoping we’d get the opening credits for the second episode. Please let them come back eventually?

- I do like how both Lan and Moiraine look like death warmed over. Last season skipped the fatigue of Healing, but they use it well. Neither of them is feeling good enough to even pretend to hide how pissed they are at each other.

- Do we think we’ll get more on Adeleas not wearing her Ajah’s colors? Like, is she just an eccentric, or is it just because she’s semi-retired, or because she’s at home and she’s damn well going to wear what she wants at her own house (or Verin’s house)? I wonder how that will be reflected in how Egwene and the Wondergirls ultimately dress. Elayne will have to be in red eventually.

- “You’re in luck. My sister and I have decided to accompany you.” Love Moiraine’s face there.

- “Have Tomas ready my horse. You’re still weak from the Healing. I don’t want my saddle to slip.” Yes, Moiraine. Make sure any sign of sympathy or kindness gets followed up by a serious jab at his honor. That will help you get rid of him faster.

- Yeah, Perrin with a sword just feels weird.

- For Nil on Twitter, I am happy Ingtar has an owl on his breastplate.

- I seriously love that they include this scene from the books (complete with flies on the table afterward!!) and use it to help show how Perrin’s senses will work. Again, such a good translation for a visual media. I was wondering how they would do it, and this works so well.

- I feel like Elyas is going to be a lot more helpful for Perrin’s development than he was in the books. For someone who should have been a mentor and teacher, he really didn’t do a whole lot for him.

- Honestly, Perrin, how on earth could Fain have done that to a Fade? For that matter, how did he do it? It’s not really clear how he could overpower and torture an awake Fade in the books. Perhaps we’ll get a chance to see some power or enhanced strength from him later in the season?

- Love how they use a unique character so efficiently with Errol. Aiel War. Yep, Rand still looks like Aiel even with his head shaved. More of Rand’s compassion and kindness (like Mat in season 1 we need to make rhat clear so later characterization will hit harder). Sword forms! PTSD.

- I have to admit, I really did not catch on to the fact that Errol was actually teaching Rand sword forms. Dunno, in my line of work crazy old people are not in great shape to be showing real physicial stuff. But I’m glad to see it. It’s more Rand seeing beyond the surface to the value and dignity of a human being others will easily overlook. And I really like how Rand is using his time here well. It feels very much like TSR Rand, who is trying to use every single moment available to him to learn something, so much better than the Rand of TGH who is really just trying to run away, or TDR Rand who is not really avoiding the crazy…

- Is the type of cloth for Errol’s bathrobe anachronistic?

- Sword forms!!!

- Oh, showing Nynaeve Healing is so smart. And we’ve already established that breakbone fever is usually lethal. Do we think Nynaeve actually healed Egwene, without realizing?

- Someone pointed out that crimsonthorne is what killed Adeleas. It’s like they read the books!

- In my head this unnamed Accepted is Theodrin. She’s so kind to Nynaeve in the books. This Accepted is just giving me her same energy.

- “Men who can channel are not a disease.” I so look forward to Nynaeve being able to intentionally heal. I am really so envious of the ability to Heal, I want it as much as Nynaeve does.

- I like this look at Liandrin’s reason. She wants to change the course of history itself.

- Aes Sedai live for centuries! I seriously thought they were going to leave that out! But this episode really plays into the tragedy of outliving your loved ones.

- Donal really understands Mat.

- I love his mimicking her actions locking the door

- I have never loved Elayne. She never did anything for me, and by the end of the books was my third least favorite. But I adore Ceras’ Elayne and I am ready to be her new best friend too. Spoiled (by which I mean the kind a child who is loved well by their parents but grew up in priviledge), sheltered princess, but kind and lovely, and not ignorant. She had me with “You’re my…subject?”

- Cadsuane!!!

- Sheriam’s reaction to Ivohn speaking in an Aes Sedai meeting is so good. Nynaeve in the books sometimes gets looked at askance for “letting” Lan speak up—this is a nice soft change from the book, which also makes us like Alanna more. Is she going to betray us? Rafe, you are going to break my heart.

- Love the Warders being worried about Nynaeve. I so love that she has friends in this turning.

- Sheriam’s internal monologue while Alanna talks about the Last Battle coming must be so great. “Blood and ashes. This was supposed to be about gaining power and advancing, not the bloody actual last Last Battle in my life time. Goat kissing—“

- I do really like how Alanna and her Warders act as a team. It’s a nice juxtaposition against Lan and Moiraine, especially this season.

- Does Nynaeve’s tracking ability work in a big city? Is that how she follows Liandrin?

- Lionfish!

- Why would the first plate be on the house? That seems like a bad business practice for a small village

- Someone pointed out Moiraine’s dagger may be the same one she killed a Darkfriend with in NS.

- Why does Verin think it would only be one of the boys? Oh. Because those were the ones who didn’t come back. She knows the girls are in the Tower. She is really knowledgeable for someone who lives in retreat.

- “Either of those things may one day be necessary.” I love how this series (both book and show) get into the gray areas.

- “Oaths have loopholes.” And later, when reminded Aes Sedai cannot lie, Moiraine says “we were never equals.” Loopholes indeed!

- Tomen Head! Battles in the sky! A sword of flame! A branded hand!

- Trolloc puppet! And it really doesn’t look like a Trolloc!

- I like how it seems Rand is just getting justice for Errol. But we learn later he has additional motives, that gets him closer to his goal. Very true to Rand.

- I’m glad they show the guy is still breathing.

- Selene in the books was playing such an over the top, seduction role, it was so painful to read. “Help me undress, Lord Rand.” “Don’t you want glory and power, Lord Rand?” “I am so into men who want glory and power.” For the love of the Light, Rand, don’t let her touch the Horn! As much as the show is doing a clearly toxic relationship, it’s leagues better than Selene in the books.

- Elayne continues to be adorable and I want to be her friend. And she understands her duty to her subjects—she will take responsibility for their actions. Oh, she’s going to be such a good queen. When did I becomes an Elayne fan??

- I am so releived that corporal punishment is delivered on the shoulders. Thank you, Rafe, for fixing that.

- Liandrin has a son??? I am on board for fleshing out Liandrin’s character.

- Love Nynaeve stepping out, against Liandrin’s threats (and she knows Liandrin can definitely hurt her), to be a Wisdom. Because Nynaeve will always be a Healer, no matter what.

- “I didn’t know it would hurt you. I didn’t mean to leave you here in pain. I’m so sorry, my boy. My beautiful boy.” 😢

- I am fully in support of Mat and Min being buddies. This will be fun.

- Why was choosing Verin the end of Tomas’ sex life? I mean, aside from waaay TMI, Adeleas. That’s….interesting.

- Oh goody/s. We aren’t skipping the carneira thing. I will just have to keep reminding myself about wearing a shift through the Arches and no spanking. Rafe can’t fix everything, I suppose.

- I mean, Edyn trying to kill him, and then deciding to bed him and marry him to her daughter, was an interesting plot point. But everything else…ugh.

- “Meditation’s never come easily to me.” Um, I have decided to trust Rafe that he knows what he’s doing, because it has been demonstrated over and over that he knows how to make good use of changes. But in the books Lan can enter the ko’di without any effort, he’s so good at it. I will withhold judgement on this until I see more.

- We get the pond scene! And leave out the ants part!

- Adeleas: The right Warder can protect you from yourself. Moiraine: Ah, yes, this means I must immediately push him as far away as possible. And be brutal about it.

- Mat not wanting to know the future is so correct for this character.

- Possum is a great nickname and I’m glad she gave it to him.

- Selene: “You can’t hurt me.” Of course not. He’s basically a toddler. She is totally safe.

- Also, Selene is very toxic and deeply messed up. It’s been 3000 years. Get over him already.

- “I like to tinker with things.” ❤️ They manage to tell us so much about her in just a few scenes. I am an Elayne fangirl now.

- Oh, poor Nynaeve. Overhearing something like that is always so hard.

- “Jealousy, it’s not the best look on you.” I love how they brought this conflict, and adapted the slap, from TDR!

- Oh, that slap left a mark on her face.

- It’s dialogue right from the book :)

- Yep, take that right out of her saddlebag, Lan. I feel like this is something he’s never done before, and never thought he’d have to stoop to.

- “I couldn’t imagine the courage it took to face the Shadow with nothing but a sword.” Aww, that’s a nice thing to say, Moiraine. “I knew when the time came you’d be able to survive on your own.” Oh. That’s a deeply cynical way to look at it.

- At least she’s sharing some information?

- It takes 8 Aes Sedai to cut someone off? Interesting. So, 13 just gets translated to 8 in show language.

- Also: not stilled. There, I’m placing my bet.

- “You and I walk this path together. Every step of it. Every choice, every sacrifice” Oh Lan. You are breaking my heart.

- “We’ve never walked this path together.” Moiraine. How did this get past the Oaths? “I’ve never shown it to you.” Has to be a lie, somehow.

- “You failed me.” Ouch.

- “I’ll have her take your bond by force if I have to.” Foreshadowing? For Lan or for Rand, or both?

- I wanted her to say his full titles here.

- My first thought (forgetting the Seanchan exist): please don’t let this be Hinderstrap. It’s too early, right? Me a minute later: oh. Maybe Hinderstrap would have been better.

- Oh. Hotsema is, indeed, hot.

- Ishy taking an interest in Perrin is a delightful turn of events.

- Of course they have better care for the rich in Cairhein.

- I love Josha’s little smile here. “I have a feeling you and I have a lot more in common.” 😊

#wheel of time #wot spoilers #wot on prime #wot show spoilers

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the-random-phan · 2 years

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So Alone (No You're Not)

My @invisobang fic! Sequel to last year's Invisobang fic. Find the links for that here.

It must be read first for this to make any sense at all :)

Word Count: 23,439

Summary:

Phantom's Keep. Much nicer than the old name. But all is not well and stone is not yet set. Danny navigates all of the expectations that are laid out for him as the rising Ghost King and what it really means. Not only for his human life, but Sam and Tucker's as well. Would they really be better off without him bogging them down?

Ao3

FFnet

This post has only the first chapter, you have to go to Ao3 or FFnet for the rest!

MONDAY 8 PM

“I guess we have some time to kill.” Sam wondered aloud. She was laying across the bed, kicking her feet idly. She picked at one of the fur blankets.

The room was full of various drapery and furs. Which made sense, seeing as it was a room fit for a king.

Yeesh, Danny still felt strange thinking about that. It felt like just yesterday Clockwork had popped into his room and demanded a meeting. Only for Danny to discover that, apparently, the GZ itself had chosen him to be the next King and oh, yeah, if he didn’t accept then the entirety of the Infinite Realms would destabilize. No pressure, right?

And if the Realms collapsed, Earth was next on the chopping block. His obsession made the choice for him, no way could he let something like that happen.

Yeah. That was a fun Monday afternoon. A whirlwind of the next two weeks went by, and now the trio were at the Keep. Pariah’s Keep to be exact. Danny felt shivers down his spine as he looked around the room.

Pariah probably used to live here, didn’t he? An unwanted thought told him to tear it to shreds, for what that tyrant had done, but it was washed away by his morals. Dora’s people had already done so much to restore the wartorn Keep, he didn’t want to cause any more damage.

Mattingly -Dora’s Kingdom- were spearheading the heavy project that was restoring the Keep. Dora herself had also been largely helpful in just organizing things, stuff Danny had no idea how to do. She even got him teachers to help him learn all the things he needed to know, if he was ever gonna be a good King. He’d never be able to thank her for all she’s done, but he certainly planned to try.

Sam stood up, walking around the bend in the room, where they hadn’t yet ventured. She found a door she hadn’t noticed at first.

“Check this out!” She shouted, waving them over. Danny came, but Tucker stayed where he’d collapsed on the bed’s pillows. The only response he gave was a tired sigh. When Danny neared he saw Sam, holding open a heavy door. What he saw behind it was shocking. It was a humongous closet, probably almost the size of his bedroom, if a bit narrower.

Sam entered first, surveying the clothes on either wall. She eyed the various pairs of shoes on the bottom shelves. She grabbed one that looked like it would hurt if thrown, but probably wouldn’t leave a bruise. Danny ducked out of her way as she exited, clearly on a mission.

Sam rounded the corner and lobbed the shoe at Tucker’s head.

“Hey!” He shouted, when smacked in the forehead with a heeled boot. Tucker shot up, grabbing the shoe and returning fire before he even realized what he’d been holding.

“What- where did you find a shoe?” Tucker questioned. Sam just took a step back and gestured to the closet. Tucker got up from the bed and looked curiously into the open doorway.

The closet was packed to the brim with clothes, but not unorganized. It was separated into three distinct sections, presumably one for each of them. Dora must've had a hand in picking out the wardrobes, because they were themed in their respective favorite colors. She was the only one who they were vaguely familiar enough with to know such a thing. Although it was also the colors most of them wore every day, so that probably clued her in. Or maybe it was sheer coincidence, who knows?

To the right was a wall of blacks and purples. It was ordered between tops, pants, skirts, and dresses. There were three pairs of shoes- black flats, what looked like black riding boots(one of which was missing), and a short pair of heels. The entire selection really looked like it’d been pulled from a renaissance festival, which Danny supposed was kinda Dora’s style.

It’d been a while since he’d been to one of those. The last time was probably in Middle school when Jazz-

Jazz.

Heckity.

Danny’s promise came back to him suddenly, the one he’d made with Sarah. His core rumbled slightly, nervously, in his chest. If he didn’t tell Jazz about the fight with Dash in the next week, Sarah was gonna tell her for him. Danny lets loose one time and it bites him in the butt. Of course, just his luck. If Jazz got that video without any context she would immediately turn and start trying to psycho-analyze him. He wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her if she was looking for it.

Really, Jazz deserved to know what was going on. But Danny didn’t want to tell her. That’d be like making the whole thing real- if it wasn’t real enough already.

Danny turned back to the room. That was a future Danny problem. (Not Dan, to be exact. Just Danny-but-a-week-from-now. He didn’t want to think about what will have happened in that week).

Sam pawed through her selection of clothes, humming at some of the options. She got a disgusted look on her face when she saw a ballgown. It was at least purple, but still way out of Sam’s usual style. Danny floated to watch over Sam’s shoulder and saw a tag on the dress in ghost speak. Sam turned and held it up for him to read, and Danny did so aloud.

“Every girl needs at least one. From Dorathea.”

“I guess,” Sam said sarcastically. She shoved the dress back into place, intending to forget about it no doubt.

To the right of the closet was a sea of yellows, gold, and various neutral browns. Clearly meant for Tucker. There were comparatively fewer clothes for him than Sam, though it was still a full wardrobe’s worth. Tucker’s eyes sparkled as he marveled at the selection. His was organized similarly, and was just as medieval. But that didn’t seem to bother him. He pulled a few things off the racks and judged them against himself in the mirror. They all looked to be around the right size, if a bit small for him. Tucker’s growth spurt had done him very few favors, so far. (That didn’t keep Danny from being salty that the top of his head only came up to Tucker’s nose.)

Finally, at the end of the room was Danny’s section. An ocean of blues and silver. As well as some whites. A pop of green or two. Danny ran a hand along the fabric. It felt cool beneath his fingertips, obviously not of the Real World in origin. It was native to the GZ, it would seem. That was interesting. He wondered, who in the GZ made clothes? Did full ghosts even have a need for them? And what were they made of? Where did they sell them?

Danny realized suddenly there was so much he didn’t know about the GZ, and its culture. Guess that’s what happens when the only things you do in an alternate dimension are fight and meet up with a time god. And also become High King, apparently.

Sitting on a mannequin was a cape that made Danny’s core skip a beat.

It was a floor-length cloak, with a hood of white fur. The length was ombre, starting at a deep navy blue and ending in a dark teal-green.

Flashes passed before Danny’s eyes, memories of Clockwork’s time mirror and the damning image it’d shown.

Danny stepped forward gingerly. He reached out to the cloak so that he could feel the fabric. It was soft, and cool in his hands. Like a breeze. The fur was a stark white, maybe even brighter than his hair. The clasp was expertly crafted, mimicking Sam’s logo perfectly. It was a work of art, but Danny couldn’t help but hold ill will towards the garment.

A stray thought in his head said to burn it. Let it reduce to ashes in his hands. To take control of the story narrative. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He never would have, the future is the proof. And if that didn’t make him feel a bit hopeless, what would?

Danny abandoned the cloak and perused the rest of the clothes. He whistled lowly. He was particularly drawn to a rack of flowy dress shirts. He felt the material- it was soft and silky. Danny walked to the other side, hand tracing across the clothing yet again.

He marveled at how it all hummed ever-so-slightly under his fingertips.

As Danny was going through his clothes, Sam was pulling things off the rack. She went over to a floor-length mirror that hung in the closet and held things in front of her, comparing their styles. A sudden sharp grin crossed her face.

“What do you guys say to a bit of a fashion show?” She suggested gleefully. Tucker’s head popped up.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” He agreed. They looked to Danny. He shifted awkwardly.

“I suppose it can’t hurt. We just gotta make sure to put everything back.” His friends both shot him thumbs up.

“Since it was my idea I wanna go first, you guys out so I can change.” With that Sam shoved them out of the closet, left to her own devices.

“I wanted to go first.” Tucker mumbled. He threw himself into a plush chair that sat next to the bookshelf.

“How long do you reckon she’ll be?” Danny asked.

“No clue,” Shrugged Tucker. Danny elected to sit on the bed.

Surprisingly, Sam only took a few minutes. She waltzed out like a model.

Sam wore a dark purple shirt that had bell sleeves, which ended around her elbows. Around her waist was a black corset, which had plum roses embroidered into the panels. It was tied in the front with a ribbon. There was a jeweled belt over the corset that had a small chain hanging down off of it. It was offset, dangling off her hip. She wore flowy black pants that disappeared into her riding boots.

Sam had never really been a fantasy goth, but her outfit was certainly striking.

She held up two cloaks, each with a furry black hood. Danny hadn't even seen she had cloaks.

"Black or purple?" She asked, holding either up to her shoulder. Danny was out of his depth. They both looked okay? Fashion wasn’t his forte, he usually stuck to graphic t-shirts and jeans. Maybe a flannel if he was feeling it.

Tucker hummed.

"Maybe black?" He suggested with a shrug. Sam raised a brow quizzically. She tossed it over her shoulder, hastily putting the other back on its hanger. She struck a pose.

“You look kinda like a knight,” Danny remarked. She looked ready to ride into battle in a medieval period drama.

“Yeah?” Sam asked. She spun, watching the various frills and cape flutter. There was a wide grin across her face.

“Do you think they expect us to wear this stuff?” She asked quizzically. She did another spin, in the opposite direction.

Briar had mentioned something about (insulted) their modern clothes, so perhaps? They wouldn't just be there for no reason, right? Oh Danny was already dreading having to pick out clothes, if that was the case. He hoped it wasn’t.

“Honestly, I have no clue.” Danny replied.

“I dunno,” Tucker added with a shrug. Sam made a ‘hm’ sound.

“Well I don’t want to get changed back into my own clothes yet, so one of you go ahead.” Said Sam, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder. When Danny didn’t immediately volunteer, Tucker spoke up.

“I guess I’ll go.” He said, getting up from his seat.

“Any suggestions?” He asked in Sam’s direction. She stepped back into the closet and Tucker followed suit. Danny didn’t want to get up, he just flopped back on the bed.

The sudden movement made Danny’s head hurt. It reminded him suddenly how he’d been in a fight with Dash not even 12 hours ago. Injuries in his human form always lasted longer, though not to the same extent as if he was completely without his ghost half. Just… sluggishly.

His nose in particular was throbbing, each pulse of his core (heart?) making him feel like his head would explode from the pressure. Not a good reminder. He transformed, and a bit of the pain drifted away. Being in ghost form helped a bit, but not nearly as much as he would have liked.

Sam and Tucker talked for a bit, their voices warbling through the walls from the other room. Sam left Tucker on his own a few minutes later. Tuck was in there for a while, longer than Sam had been at least. He practically slammed the door on Sam, even if he shouted an apology a split second later. Sam’s footsteps quieted, then got louder. She wandered over to the bed where Danny laid, and he could feel the shift when she sat down.

“D’you think he thinks he’s hiding his sudden interest in fashion?” Sam asked. A smile found its way onto Danny’s face.

“He probably thinks he’s getting away with it.”

“Yeah, probably.” The conversation petered off. Danny heard the pages of a book turning, and that explained the detour Sam had taken. She paid a visit to the bookshelf.

Danny was hit by a wave of boredom. But he didn't want to waste what precious battery life his phone had. Thus, he was left with nothing to do.

He got bored rather quickly. And by quickly, it was about five minutes later. He finally got up from the bed and decided to explore the room a bit more. If he was gonna be staying here, he might as well familiarize himself with it. In his search. Danny discovered two doors in the back corner. One led to a bathroom, much like he had expected. (Or, at least, wanted it to be. Did full ghosts have any use for a bathroom?)

The most immediate, stand-out feature was a large tub set into the floor. The floor was tile, but the walls of the tub were dark wood, maybe Mahogany? Danny only knew about that type of wood because it made his Dad’s allergies act up. And he’d learned a bit about it in shop class.

The tub was big enough that Danny could probably sit in the middle and his head would be under the water. There was a ring of benches around the semi-circle tub. The bathroom was shaped like a circle, with large windows all around. White curtains filtered the mint green light that streamed in from outside. It bathed the room in a strange hue. Opposite the door was a toilet and to the left was a series of two sinks. Hung on the wall behind each were large, ornate mirrors. There was a rack to the side that held many white and dark blue towels, all folded to perfection.

As he left the bathroom, Danny wondered idly who all had put everything together. He’d done that about a lot of things, recently. He had a lot of people to thank.

The next door was off to his left, along the end wall of the ‘L.’ It was two doors, actually. A set of doubles that were white with silver accents. When Danny reached for the handle, his hand came back covered in dust. He wiped it off on his jeans before venturing inside. Sam noticed he was up to something and followed behind.

“Wow,” Danny mused.

The room before them was long, with floor-to-ceiling windows at the end. They were covered by light curtains that seemed to drift ever-so-slightly, even though Danny couldn’t feel any wind. The walls were a soft baby-blue. Straight ahead was a marble table with plush-looking chairs set around it. A vase of flowers was atop the table, again various colors of blue. Danny wasn’t sure if any flowers in the Real World were even naturally blue, so they must be GZ flowers? He was probably wrong about that. He remembers hearing something about blue roses, once upon a time. Or was that from a video game?

“This looks like a meeting room.” Said Sam.

At the other end of the room was a grand fireplace, though for now it was without a flame. In front of it was a long, wide table. It matched the style of the smaller one but on a much grander scale. This one was also surrounded by chairs, about six on each side and one at the table’s head. There was no chair on the fireplace side.

Danny looked up and was almost disappointed. The ceiling was slightly slanted to the left and had some stylized rafters, but it wasn’t the scene of stars he’d expected. It would seem the only room with such a roof was the ball room.

“Done! Where’d you guys go?” Tucker shouted. Footsteps.

“Whoa,” He marveled as he entered the room. He looked around, absorbing the scene before him. Danny looked away from the scene to see Tucker’s outfit. It wasn’t as much of a… statement, as Sam’s, but tasteful.

His shirt was a muted orange-yellow, with darker embroidery around the collar and the edges of the short sleeves. It was quite long, just a bit shorter than a dress would need to be to maintain any kind of modesty. Maybe tunic was a more accurate word? Danny pulled back on his memories from the books he used to read in middle school. Tucker got him into Dungeons and Dragons for a short stint, and he’d read all the manuals he could find cover-to-cover.

Danny was hit with the epiphany that this kinda felt like he was in the middle of a D&D campaign, when the group gets new outfits after starting a new plotline. Hm.

Underneath the tunic Tucker had chosen an off-white shirt with big sleeves. The collar of it just barely peeked out from under that of the tunic. His pants were mostly the same as Sam’s. But in a rich brown. The pant legs were gathered below his knees, turning into something almost like leggings. He wore a pair of black flats.

And, of course, Tucker had a cape of his own. His was a medium brown, and draped off of his left shoulder. The belt which held it in place went under his right arm, around his chest. Tucker did a half-spin, watching the fabric ripple.

“Nice!” Sam shouted. She and Tucker high-fived. He grinned at the praise. Tucker abruptly turned to Danny. He almost gave himself whiplash, spinning that quick. He schooled his expression into something serious.

“Hypothetically, what would happen if you phased earrings into my ears and then let them turn tangible?” He asked, straight out of left field. It took a moment for the question to even compute.

“You… want me to pierce your ears?” Danny said to make sure he’d heard correctly. Danny didn’t care about Tucker wanting his ears pierced (honestly he’d probably rock it) he was just a bit hesitant it was just the method he proposed.

“Yeah! I thought maybe if we did it that way, it wouldn’t hurt as much.” Tucker shrugged. It seemed his earlier enthusiasm had faded.

“Honestly I’m not really sure what it’d do.” Danny offered. He typically avoided turning things tangible inside other things. But what harm could it really do?

“Let’s try it!”

#danny phantom #dp #ghost king!danny #ghostking!danny #everlasting trio #nonbinary!clockwork #clocky uses they/he pronouns <3 #invisobang 2022 #invisobang #my fic

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depressed-teacup-inc · 2 years

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It’s “assassinate Nino’s character” hours

Hey so you know how miraculous does this thing where it will release a whole bunch of episodes except one super fast, and usually the one unreleased episode holds important info for the plot or has something upsetting happen in it?

So this is this episode, they ruined Nino again

Ok first of all, before y’all ask, I’m not upset at Nino for saying that he and Alya used to be carapace and Rena Rouge. Literally everyone but Ladybug and Chat Noir were revealing identities AND LITERALLY ALIX INFORMED THE ENTIRE CLASS THAT SHE WAS LEAVING TO BE A SUPERHERO, so it’s fine that he’s talking about it, because frankly, if everyone in fucking Paris can know someone’s hero identity and still have them be a hero, then the identity rule doesn’t fucking matter and they should MOVE THE FUCK ON FROM THIS PLOT

Also the audacity of these two for getting angry at Nino telling Adrien his identity after he was already caught by Hawkmoth, WHEN MARINETTE AKA LADYBUG AKA THE ENFORCER OF EVERYTHING IDENTITY RULE REVEALED HERSELF TO ALYA

But I digress moving on~

I’m upset at Nino (or well. The plot assassinating Nino’s character for conflict) because he legit forced all his friends to try to akumatize someone he already knows is volatile and can hurt his friends, and said this to Adrien (which hey might be true ngl, but still dude, dick fucking move)

I understand that the show needed a conflict for this episode and a way to “uncover” how Monarch grants powers (which btw why the fuck was it magic lightning?! They could’ve literally just shown the akuma with an accent color corresponding to a miraculous and say he’s transferring powers using the butterfly miraculous, aka THE MIRACULOUS OF TRANSMISSION?! Literally that’s what they should’ve done in the first place with season 5 but I digress) but Nino seriously did not need to be such a cunt for this episode to work? Nino did not need to involve Adrien in this knowing he would get in trouble, or he could’ve tried to track all the parents, because parent-teacher conferences are already a big stress, and then when Gabriel catches them, he’d be “mad”.

Which speaking of, before I hear anyone blame Lila for why that plan didn’t fucking work, LILA DOES NOT KNOW GABRIEL IS MONARCH! The plan didn’t work because it was idiotic, and considering how her character is constantly made worse and worse and everyone is made dumber and dumber just make marinette look like a beautiful innocent victim in comparison(they reset the characters again, Adrien and Alya are not suspicious at all), I’m less angry at her and more tired of the writing of the show. She didn’t purposely say it to help monarch, but the show will just claim she did because apparently she’s worse then the terrorist now (and make her a spy for Monarch on the resistance, and again “marinette is always right because she’s the best and people should always listen to her”)

Everything else this episode was more or less alright or annoying, the rings are still idiotic and don’t make sense, Marinette stop making everything about yourself and acting high and mighty, YOU WERE LITERALLY THE FIRST PERSON VOTING FOR THIS PLAN, DON’T GO AND LECTURE NINO LIKE YOU WEREN’T A PART OF THIS! And also not everything is about your love life, Adrien got in trouble because you encouraged an idiotic plan that would hurt him, this has nothing to do with your “love”

Also Gabriel… fuck I’m scared of what the show is gonna do.

This episode finally addresses why Gabriel has been suddenly a housewife, but it still doesn’t make sense???? Like Gabriel says that the reason he wants to have more meals and quality time spent with Adrien is because he feels bad for neglecting him, and wants to make things better again, But when Adrien mentioned not liking the alliance, Gabriel half threatened him? Saying “hey if you want to go to how things used to be if you’re so unhappy with my invention, be my guest” like god I don’t trust you

And like? I still don’t understand Gabriel’s motive? Like I think they tried to address that with Passion saying it has something to do with him getting cataclysmed??? But what would that have to do with anything? Gabe finally acknowledged the inevitability of death and wants to be nice?

And the thing is, that implies that either:

A. This is some sort of big manipulative plan we don’t understand yet, or…

B. Gabriel, after what happened in this show, is getting a redemption arc.

And I swear to god. I already mentioned my fear of the show trying to redeem him and claim he’s innocent and really just did all of this for his family, but considering that fact he’s an actual terrorist that tried to shoot a missile in New York, and that he gets sidetracked from saving Emilie to just hunting all the miraculous and being a generic villain??

Like bro you had the chance to maybe redeem him for his actions in season 2, but now he’s just a bad abusive guy that ignored and abused and manipulated his son for the sake of power, AND IF THE SHOW IS TRYING TI WRITE OFF WHAT HE DID LIKE THEY DID TO JAGGED AND HAVE EVERYONE FORGIVE HIM I WILL START A MOTHERFUCKING RIOT (I STILL DON’T FORGIVE JAGGED)

But yeah that’s the episode, despite everything, I’m glad Adrien has the illusion of a normal family for one second.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fandom #ml spoilers #ml season 5 #ml rants #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #gabriel agreste #IF THEY JAGGED THE FUCKING TERROROST AND JUSTOFY HIS ACTIONS

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silverlining317 · 2 years

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Like Home

For @hinnyfest, prompt #26: 'You are my home''

It was difficult for me to follow the order of the prompts with this scene in mind and I had to write it down. I think it is a fanfiction of many fanfiction that I read. There's something about hinny in OOTP that feels real special.

The first sentence is from the movies***

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"Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember. Allow it to fill you up… Think of the happiest thing you can." -said Harry

The thread of smoke that came out of Luna's wand began to swarm into a tail. One hop. Two hops. The rabbit began to dance in the air.

-''I did it''- Luna smiled

"Brillant" -Harry said approaching the next student. He was such a good teacher, Ginny shook her head. It was not time to return to that fantasy. It was enough that her brain took advantage of when she was unconscious to dream about him. She refused to daydream about his teaching abilities too. She had to focus on her happiest memory. That was the important thing at the time.

-"Can you choose the shape of the Patronus?" -Lavender said shaking her wand as if hitting someone.

-"No." -Harry said, replicating the correct wrist movement once more.- "It's linked to the personality of the person who casts it."

-'' But if I change my personality''- Lavander said giving softer strokes now.

"I'm not sure that will work." -Harry said- "A Patronus is unlike any other spell. It comes from intense memories. It's as if the magic infiltrated into your most sincere emotions and beliefs. A part of you that you didn't know or didn't want to admit existed.''

"That was so sweet Harry," Lavender said.

-''Regarding the wrist movement''- Harry tried to divert the attention.

Don't think about him. Ginny repeated herself. She closed her eyes, and from the green of his eyes, she brought back the color of the grass after a summer dew. Fine drops adhered to the grass. Grass on which she would later fall after several attempts to maneuver one of her brother's brooms. The room of requirements began to emanate the aroma of dawn and little by little Ginny felt herself back in the burrow. Happier than ever...

-'' I read the other day in Volume II of Defense Against the Dark Arts, that the Patronus of soul mates is linked. It can even take the same shape''- said Hermione intruding into her fantasy

"So that's why you were so happy that Ron's Patronus was a Jack Russell?" -Ginny said with a smirk.

"Perhaps." - said Hermione with a beaming smile.

-"Now what we're all wondering is: Behind what a stag runs after?" Ginny said, watching as Harry approached Cho from behind.

"Ginny... your boyfriend is three students away" -said Hermione.

"Whatever." -Ginny said, too disgusted by the scene she was seeing between Harry and Cho to think of anything remotely happy.

"I'm telling you. Thar Ravenclaw uniform must have something" Ginny said without being able to take her eyes off Harry's lips that were now very close to Cho's ear- "They scammed us with these colors. Red and gold. Who thought it was a good idea? Blue complements the skin way better.''

-'' Ginny, concentrate. You have to keep working on your Patronus''- said Hermione- ''I can help you''

-'' It's a swan!''- Ginny said shaking her head- ''It's a bloody swan!''

The bird spread its wings. Padma and Parvati stood before the celestial image with their mouths wide open.

"It might be pretty, I give her that one. But it won't scare anyone" -Ginny said trying to look away as Cho and Harry hug each other. -"I mean if a dementor comes and sees a swan. A strutting swan...''

"Ginny, focus," said Hermione.

"Also, I might be wrong. But, I don't even believe swans and stags cohabit in the same spaces. Ha. Even their Patronus notice how mismatched they are" - Ginny said, waving her wand from side to side.

-"Just because Patronus can adapt to match each other it doesn't mean they always do." -Hermione said rolling her eyes. "Besides, it's not always a sign of love. They can also evolve to match the shape of another person's animal for darker reasons. Like when love became an obsession.''

"WHAT?" -Ginny's wand fell to the floor and she hurried to pick it up "How did you wait until this point to share that piece of information, Hermione? So wise yet it did not occur to you what could happen if I managed to make a corporeal Patronus?''

-''Ginny...''- said her friend

-'' A huge stag or doe could have come out of my wand without any warning''- Ginny said very slowly, over pronouncing each syllable-'' I don't need this. I truly do not. I'm making an effort to get over him. I don't want the whole DA to know how obsessed I truly am...Michael is over there. I can't have my boyfriend seeing that for merlin's sake! ''

"Stop it. Your Patronus isn't going to be a stag. Not a doe" Hermione said. "Actually, it's not going to be anything, if you don't stop distracting yourself."

-''I'm trying''- said Ginny dropping her wand again

-'' I don't think you are obsessed either. ''- said Hermione- ''Just a little bit too infatuated. Which its bad. Because your boyfriend over there has been trying to gain your attention for half an hour now''

" To be honest I don't care about Michael. Not since yesterday when…" - Ginny started to speak but halfway through her face began to freeze- "A lot, I care a lot about him. I'm thinking right now about our first date to focus on the Patronus. How joyful it was. I fancy him so much''

Harry leaned against the wall and nodded. In the same way that Professor Flitwick did when he wanted us to close our mouths and show him the progress. Hermione smiled at Ginny, murmuring something along the words: "you can do it.

Ginny closed her eyes trying to return to the lawn of the burrow. Wind on his face. The aroma of the wood. Unprecedented happiness bristled his skin, and suddenly. Suddenly the image of a stag appeared between the trees that guarded the Quidditch field of her home. No, no Ginny couldn't do that to herself. She wrinkled her nose and instead searched inside herself for the saddest moment she could imagine. She needed to stop that Patronus from shaping.

From the damp earth to the frozen floor of the Chamber of Secrets. Blood splattered like a crimson lake. The wounds of Harry. Harry, who was there despite not knowing her. Willing to risk his life and save her in the most heroic way.

As if her mouth didn't respond to her commands, her lips muttered the charm. Ginny dug her nails into her palm. Think about the Chamber, she said. The diary. Tom. Something sad to prevent that stag from appearing.

From the tip of her wand, a silver mist began to rise taking the form of four legs. Ginny started to shake. That couldn't be happening to her. Be sad, she repeated in her mind. Be sad, she orders herself. Her father on the hospital after the snake attack.

The legs recoiled, vanishing against the haze of a misshapen Patronus.

-"You looked like you were in pain." Harry said walking up to her.- ''Something happened?''

-"It's hard for me to think of anything good with everything that's going on." -Ginny lied. To the extent that just having him this close was enough for her to be able to conjure a thousand Patronus.

-'' Trust me, I understand you more than anyone''- said Harry- ''Still, I'm sure that growing up in the burrow must be like having a neverending source of happiness''

-'' Yes''- Ginny smiled, fleetingly remembering a hundred of them- ''But...''

"Keep that in mind" -Harry said close to her- "Focus on the details. The scents, the colors, the sounds...''

Ginny nodded. Imagining her 9th-year-old birthday. Money was scattered. Her parents explained that they could not afford to buy her the present she wanted. She went to sleep crying only to woke up and find all of her brothers in the kitchen waiting for her to present the Weasley's version of that explosive cards game. They spent all night crafting and enchanting it for her.

"Expecto patronum," Ginny said, and back again a huge four-legged animal began to emerge. Ginny turned to see Hermione who was looking at the scene with a face of absolute terror. It was shaping like a doe. The symbol of her obsession. She need a distraction. Ginny looked at Cho, and just like that, the fog vanished into nothing but air.

-"You're very close to it." -Harry said.- "Maybe you need to try another memory''

-"Yes, that must be." -Ginny said- "I'm a little tired. I did not sleep well. Can we call it quit ?''

-"It's like you already have it and somehow you sabotage yourself in the middle." -Harry said.- "Maybe it's the noise."

"As I told you, I'm tired," Ginny said with a pleading look at her friend.

-"Just one more time"- Harry said, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. How could she say no?

-"It has to be something that gives you hope. Something that makes you feel like home" Harry said brushing her arm without notice.

-"Harry, maybe we should try again, next week. " said Hermione. Ginny never loved someone so much.

-"Next time then." -Harry said reaching into his pockets, "Maybe it would help to ask others what memory they have used."

-"Yes, that's an excellent idea," Ginny said, nodding her head and then nodding back once more in an attempt to camouflage the disappointment she felt at her cowardness.

"My life isn't that transcendental either." -Ginny added in a desperate attempt to break the silence created by students who were starting to leave.

-'' It could be something simple''- said Hermione- ''I for example imagined myself the first part of my Christmas break. When I went skiing with my parents. ''

Liar. Ginny told herself. They both knew very well that she had been imagining her first visit to Hogsmeade with Ron. But she couldn't blame her when she kept saving her from being face-to-face alone with Harry, who for some reason refused to go. He must be waiting for Cho. Ginny felt that two more seconds thinking about her would be enough for her to create a corporeal antipatronus.

-"I used a memory from this Christmas too" -Harry said.

"Snuffles?" Ginny guessed.

- '' Well, yes but then I was thinking about the four of us playing exploding snap the night before returning to the castle.'' - said Harry

Ginny froze. The four of them? Like them? Ron, Hermione, Harry and her? Ginny start to remember each day from their stay at Grimmauld Place. Trying to find some other time when Harry might have shared that game with four players. Someone else that didn't involve her. He didn't. So that means she was a part of a memory that he had used to create a Patronus?

A cold air climbed up her neck, bristling every inch of her skin. Like energy overloading Ginny's body, she need to channel that emotion.

-"Expecto patronum" Ginny reached out for her wand and spoke the words before she could even think of their implication.

A huge animal began to gallop across the room.

"It's beautiful," said Hermione.

-''Brillant Gin''- Harry said- ''I knew it would be easy for you to achieve that spell.''

The horse kept galloping through the air until it approached its owner to give her a little caress.

"I told you" whispered Hermione.

#hinnyfest #Harry and Ginny #hinny

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nwertzarts102-04 · 4 months

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Weeks 1 and 2

During these two weeks we have been working on our 6 word memoirs and critiquing them. Before this, I had never used photoshop or AI, so it was a little challenging to get started. I knew I wanted to incorporate weather because I love when nature is expressed through art, but I didn’t really start with a plan.

After awhile, I decided to make my first one about a snow, since we really never get any down here. I wanted to focus vintage ski posters and vintage post cards and the way they represent snow. I loved their painterly style and I wanted to see if AI could accurately achieve that look. I eventually found one that worked, cleaned it up, and then added the text. I tried to chose a more understated typeface that didn’t take away from the image, but I may need to change it later on.

For my second image, I wanted to do something inspired by the stormy weather we’ve been having. I’ve always been told by teachers and other adults that my head is too stuck in the clouds and I wanted to use that idea, but make my image moodier than the last. For the AI component I did my best to find a woman in a storm, but they were all missing something. To make the composition more appealing and provide a better atmosphere, I added a lightning bolt in the center of the image. Using the brush tool, I drew the lightning and used references to make it look as realistic as I could. To achieve the glow, I had help adding color and noise to the base of it and then added the smaller branches.

In the critique I got a lot of really good feedback about the font, and text color of both. I think the most important change I plan to make is make the leading better on the second piece. The idea would be to bring the second part up a bit to match the margins. I also plan on looking at different typefaces for my first image, to make it look more like a vintage poster.

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iuteamstarcandy · 6 months

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Instyle (November 2013)

“If my image from previous albums had been simple or clean, you’ll feel slightly different about it this time. Should I say it’s like sweet, brown sugar that will make you slowly fall in love with it?”

IU made a comeback with her new album <Modern Times>.

Her youthful face remains the same, but she returns to the stage where she first stood with a much more mature voice and aura.

“On days when I don’t have a schedule, I meet up with my best friend Yoo In Na unnie. We chat and eat delicious food together. I usually order and eat a lot of cake, but unnie tends to stop me (from having too much). (laughs).”

“I have a rather small physique, so I like wearing shorts. My dream is to go out wearing flatties and skinny jeans that can show a bit of my ankles.”

“It’s a secret, but I think I’ll get a haircut soon. I actually had short hair when I first debuted. I bet those who miss (my) look back then will like it?”

This Christmas, she wants to shout “Merry Christmas!” while clinking glasses with strangers in Germany. Her inferiority complex is having a small physique, so she always wears big (oversized) clothes. Rather than idols, she likes Kim Chang Wan and Woody Allen. She also turns people who are passing by the car window outside into the main characters of her self-composed songs. Through this interview, we met the IU we didn’t know before this.

New Album <Modern Times>

IU: In a word, (my new album) is like sweet, brown sugar. For a long time, I’ve always thought my voice was like sweet and sour junk food. But with this album, (my voice) feels even sweeter. Should I say it’s like a witch? And I think that kind of vibe was emphasized with the album jacket being shot in black and white and with the change of my hair color (blonde). After hearing what I said, my best friend Yoo In Na went, “Hey! Who would even fancy a witch?” (laughs) If I were to pick a song that’s closest to my heart, it’d be ‘Bad Day’. It’s a self-composed song, and it feels like a ballad, so I think it’d be nice to listen to when your ears are tired. Please check out the song.

Collaborating with Musicians

IU: I often sang teacher Choi Baek Ho’s songs at concerts because my dad adores him so much. The news somehow reached teacher Choi, so we did pictorials and interviews together, and talked about music too. Despite me begging teacher Choi to drop the formalities, he still uses honorifics (polite language) to me, who is much younger than him. He was also really cool when we recorded the song together this time. He listened to everything I sang, and also didn’t forget to offer words of encouragement to his junior throughout (the recording session). He is the definition of a gentleman. On the other hand, working with Ga-in unnie felt different. Should I say that we are similar in our usual (physical) appearance and way of speaking? Perhaps that’s why it felt natural when we were filming and recording together. If there’s a chance, I would like to work with Kim Chang Wan sunbaenim. I really like sunbaenim’s ‘Ride a Bike by Guitar’. Despite him being a great senior (veteran) already, I like how he still radiates that bad boy (mischievous brat) energy (in the song). Now that I’ve expressed my feelings (intention) today, there will come a day when we finally get to work together, right?* (laughs)

(*Note: As part of her remake album “A Flower Bookmark,�� IU sang a duet with singer Kim Chang Wan in the remake of his original song, “Meaning of you” in 2014.)

Winter

IU: Winter reminds me of the songs featured in Woody Allen’s movies. ‘Let’s Do It’ from <Midnight in Paris> and ‘It Seems Like Old Times’ from <Annie Hall> are songs that are better to listen to (sound better) during winter. Be sure to listen to the songs while watching the movies. And when it’s wintertime, I start looking forward to Christmas. I don’t recall spending Christmas freely ever since my debut, but if I ever get the chance, I want to travel to Germany this Christmas. Actually, this is all because of Noh Hong Chul oppa (t/l note: one of the hosts in ‘Heroes’). He sat me down with Yoo In Na unnie and bragged about how he spent Christmas in Germany, and I was dazzled (by the story). So, with sparkling eyes (full of excitement), unnie and I decided, “Let’s go to Germany for Christmas”. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to realise it yet, but I definitely want to go there someday. I also want to try lots of delicious food! I really like exploring nice restaurants. You had no idea, didn't you?

Translated by IUteamstarcandy

Source: [1]

#IU #interview #magazine #instyle #2013

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onecantsimply · 2 years

Text

Study, Bitch.

Platonic Yandere Jack The Ripper x GN Reader

Basically, just a daily life of Jack in a cafe and seeing his favorite student studying for a test- I’m experimenting, so there’ll be a slight twist in here- Even if the twist may not seem very relevant, I’ll add it just so I can experiment with how things go.

Keep in mind that this is not a modern era, and he is still... Jack The Ripper- He will not be a teacher either, but more of a friend. Reader will know that he is a serial killer btw because I just decided to add it out of nowhere-

Oh, and I use (Y/n) shit- Shameful Wattpad writer hh-

Also I’m changing up my writing style up a bit. Apparently the way I’m customizing it is the right way to do so as well. So I’ll see how I like it before I end up deciding. Tbh I may switch up a lot lmao.

Warnings: Talking about murder and abduction, mentions of abuse.

“And so, there goes the fifth victim...” A waitress mumbled. A blond softly looked at her with half lidded eyes, going faintly cautious. “The news has been everywhere lately.” The waitress gently placed a newspaper down, allowing the blond to softly grab it. A faint satisfaction rested in his mind when he had saw the message on the newspaper. “What do you think of it, Jack?” The waitress questioned. “Hm... Well, it isn’t exactly my business. So I suppose I don’t have much thought on it.” The blond gently placed the newspaper down. His eyes then caught a certain (H/c) haired teen walking into the cafe. They had their backpack on, and didn’t seem to notice him either.

“Well, that’s my cue. I’ll be going now.” The waitress softly slipped away, leaving Jack in a faint silence. He kept his eyes on the student for a second before looking around, faintly noticing how there were no empty seats other than the one across from his own.

(Well, it certainly is packed today... -Jack)

He closed his eyes before gently sipping his black tea.

With the waitress, she faintly bowed her head once seeing the teen come by.

“(Y/n), welcome back.” She greeted. “Thank you, Anemone...” The teen answered, almost rather drowsy. They looked around. “It really does look packed up today...” They mumbled. “Well, it is a Monday. It’s usually crowded, in which I’m sure you know.” The waitress smiled faintly. “Oh, before you make a decision to leave, I did see an empty seat by Jack earlier. Would you like us to ask if he minds?” Anemone questioned. “Thank you.” (Y/n) gave a small nod, allowing Anemone to leave. The (H/c) haired teen softly followed after, seeing a familiar blond look back at the waitress when she had asked something.

“Would you mind if (Y/n) sits with you?” Jack smiled faintly. “Ah, no. I don’t mind.” He answered. “Perfect!” Anemone looked towards (Y/n), seeing them sit down on their seat. “I’ll get your order ready, so sit tight.” They nodded, taking out some papers. Jack tilted his head faintly. “... Well, you seem to be stacked on work.” He spoke. (Y/n) looked at him. “Right... An essay is coming up, so I’m just completing it so that it doesn’t ruin the rest of my days.” They responded. “But, what about you?” Jack blinked. “What have you been up to lately?”

“... I’m sure you’ve heard about what I’ve been doing.” He smiled faintly once again. “It’s everywhere. Surely, you’ve heard.” (Y/n) nodded with a gentle smile of their own as they took a book out. “Yep...” They gently answered. As they put their name on their paper, they gently opened the book up, and started to write. “Seems like you went brutal with them, though I won’t be talking about that right now since... it’s not exactly the best place to do so.” (Y/n) flipped a few pages once more, their eyes focused on the words.

“Would you think that your home is a better place?” They went silent, faintly lowering their book while their gaze stayed on their paper.

Their color had fueled with distaste.

“... My apologies.” Jack spoke when he noticed the problem. “Would you mind if I snuck in though? I really would like to talk to you.” He added, a gentle smile crossing his face. “No...” (Y/n) softly sighed. “I wouldn’t mind. The only problem is if my parents find out. They’re not punishing you. They’re going for me.” They smiled faintly. “I don’t believe that’s something you should be smiling over.” Jack tilted his head softly. “Well, I don’t exactly have a choice...” (Y/n) continued to write once again, gently lifting their book. “I’m lucky enough that they allow me out of the house after school. I know they probably think I’m at work, but... Oh well...” They shrugged with a faint smile. “I should take my opportunity when I have it, especially on my day off.” Jack tilted his head faintly. Though, he smiled softly as well.

“Do you want them gone?” He questioned. “Oh, don’t you dare. I can barely pay bills.” (Y/n) answered. “Well, you could always come live with me.” Jack tilted his head. “While it may take a small while, I can supply you with things you may need to continue your normal life. I truly do care for you, and a life like yours within your own home isn’t something that someone like you should be having.” Jack closed his eyes. “And... you wouldn’t exactly want to take any more from them. I of course get that you still love them, even after what they had done to you. They are your parents after all. But clinging on to a hope that they may change in the future may not happen, especially with how they are.” (Y/n) frowned faintly upon hearing that. “And.. I take it that they didn’t react very well after they had first met me?”

“Ah, how’d you know?” (Y/n) sarcastically questioned. Jack faintly cracked another smile. “Well...” He started to answer, going along with it. “Your parents’ colors didn’t look very nice... especially when they had looked at you.” (Y/n) looked at their book, starting to write something down on it. “Well, it certainly explained those bruises you had near your arms all those months ago.” The teen faintly froze up as Jack went serious. “You didn’t think I noticed, did you?” His eyebrows furrowed softly. “... While we may not have went through the exact same thing in childhood, I don’t want you going through that. Whether you want it or not, I will eliminate those two. No matter the cost.” (Y/n) silently stared at their paper once again, the tension from the table slightly rising.

“...” The teen closed their eyes. They then sighed faintly, placing their book down. (Y/n) could feel Jack’s stare on them. It had practically teared into them, keeping good look at their colors. “... Alright, fine!” They spoke, gaining some attention to their table. Jack smiled faintly. “Good.” He replied. “It will take some time to prepare, so please bear with me.” (Y/n) gave a soft nod before Jack leaned closer. “... Would you mind if I abducted you?” He questioned. “Wha-” (Y/n) couldn’t even finish their word.

“Here’s your coffee!” Anemone called out as she walked over. She placed the cup and plate down next to (Y/n), seeing them nod.

“... Thank you, Anemone.” They spoke. Jack looked at the female with a gentle nod, as well as a faint smile while leaning back in his seat. “Not a problem! Now, what’s going on here? I saw him looking over.” Anemone looked at Jack.

“... He was trying to help with my essay. I’m having slight difficulty with it, so he’s trying to help with what he can.” Jack softly placed his Black Tea down, looking at the paper of directions. His eyes scanned over them.

“Oh, I see!” Anemone nodded. “Well, I need to serve some other customers, so let me know if you need anything!” (Y/n) did the same. “Right. Thanks.” They responded as Jack softly tugged his own seat next to theirs. Anemone gave a close eyed smile before walking off to serve another customer. “Hey, what was with moving next to me?” (Y/n) looked at Jack. “Well, you said that I was helping.” He smiled faintly, leaving the teen beside him to sigh softly.

“Right, right. And regarding that question before, just make it quick. I don’t want to panic and kick your dick.” Jack softly chuckled. He then closed his eyes. “I can assure that it won’t happen.” He responded. “Especially that last part.” (Y/n) arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” They questioned. “I’m positive.” Jack smiled faintly. (Y/n) gave a gentle nod. “Okay then...” They continued with their essay, allowing Jack to keep sipping his black tea.

He had made reminders for (Y/n) to drink their coffee every so often, in which they were too absorbed in their work to do. Even aside from their essay, Jack couldn’t help but get curious at the other assignments they had done in one day.

#jack the ripper #jack the ripper x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #Jack the ripper record of Ragnarok

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