#my imaginary friends were DEAD KIDS

[daydadahlias]

i always think it's crazy how, as a child, i was definitely on track to becoming a serial killer but then one day i just decided not to be

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[tblsomedoodles]

Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

[writer-room]

I personally like headcanoning Peacemaker as still being just a little too similar to Darkstalker in some aspects. He's obviously still a good dude, in fact he's an absolute sweetheart, but there's still some...characteristics. You know what I'll list them for the good of my inner child

Kid gets big. And I mean big. He's nowhere near Darkstalker's size, but he ends up really tall and heavy for a NightWing, let alone one thats supposedly half RainWing, which are not overly big dragons to begin with. This leads to most dragons trying to convince him to move into professions that require big guys, but his strength still helps him plenty with farming. It does make some people ask questions, though

He's not as narrow as Darkstalker was. As Darkstalker grew, his features became noticeably sharper, more IceWing in body type. Peacemaker has softer features, however his face never truly changed. It's not as jutting such as in the jawbone or horns, but he has a much more defined face that seems to stand out on a rounder body. He's terrified a few dragons on accident who saw him from a distance or as a silhouette and thought he was Darkstalker risen from the dead. He never understood why everyone was so scared

Doesn't quite like the RainWing part of himself. As a kid, he was never sure why. Sure, some dragons weren't very nice about it, but his mom loved him plenty, he had some really nice dragons like Moon and Kinkajou who who were really sweet, so he never quite got why he was upset about it. Maybe he was still mad at the dad who wasn't there? He wasn't sure why he was upset about that, either. He got better after having a lot of talks with his mom and friends, but that little piece of self-hatred never fully went away, and he can't for the life of him explain why

Had a lot of imaginary friends as a kid. They didn't always have names, but they were usually dragons he made up in his head. Like a scardy-cat SeaWing all the other dragonets accused of just being Turtle, or an actually scary SeaWing, or a super smart NightWing who knew all the answers to everything! Sometimes he made up a new NightWing queen or played a pretend war with the other dragonets. Occasionally, he said his friend that week was a big shadow. He said the big shadow seemed kind of angry and sad, but his shadow liked to listen. He slowly stopped after a while. Some of his older friends started looking worried. Imaginary friends were for babies, anyway.

He still has Darkstalker's horns. Those never changed, for some reason. Maybe a little less pointy on the ends, maybe a little thicker at the base, but they were still very much Darkstalker's Horns. Hope & the gang silently freaked out about this, but when some dragon brought it up in earshot of little Peacemaker, he loudly proclaimed he liked his horns, they were all funky and looked kinda like mister Winter's horns! Mister Winter is kind of rude sometimes, but he seems nice, so Peacemaker doesn't mind looking kind of like him! Winter was tormented over this for months

Sometimes he'll just...say things. That sound a little too similar to what some other dragon was thinking. Or make random guesses that are very close to what will actually happen. It's never by much, usually finishing other dragon's sentences or predicting the next thirty seconds, but it's enough to make Moon twitchy. He just thinks he has good luck

Once asked Hope if he could ever have a little sister. He never asked again. He'd never seen his mom cry before.

[sweet-evie]

Head empty... Just having thoughts of an AU centered around Apartment Ghost!Gojo... 👻👻👻 So take my imagines...

✨ masterlist ✨

»» Ghost!Gojo = Casper the Friendly Ghost... It doesn't stop him from being a fucking menace day in and day out though.

»» Ghost!Gojo has been dead and buried for 6 months.

»» Ghost!Gojo haunts an apartment occupied by a single mom with two kids: one elementary kid and a toddler.

»» Imagine how fucking creepy and unsettling it is to find your toddler talking to empty air, and when you ask them, they look back at you with big innocent eyes and that big cheeky grin, and they start babbling about their "imaginary friend".

»» Creepy, but the mom dismisses it at first, chalking it up to childish imagination running wild, but when the older sibling casually asks about a tall white-haired man hanging around the apartment living room at dinner, Mom is starting to get concerned. Couple this with the fact that her toddler is giggling at odd hours during the night, while the room is empty. 

»» Eventually, Ghost!Gojo makes his presence known to the mom... And he's all smiles and being his usual goofy self while he's waving -- as if it isn't unsettling to have a dead fucking person hanging out in your home.

»» It took a while, but I like to think, the mom warms up to Ghost!Gojo being around after a couple of months. He doesn't show himself frequently to Mom because he freaks her out, but it doesn't stop Ghost!Gojo from being her toddler's playmate and her older kid's study buddy.

»» As time passed, they got so comfortable living with the ghost that mom and her kids forget that Ghost!Gojo is not actually alive and he doesn't show himself to other people, except for them.

»» After they get so used to him and comfortable with him being around, think of Ghost!Gojo as a very very friendly and chaotic poltergeist. He doesn't destroy things (at least when he does, he doesn't mean to). He's very nice... He just does annoying shit. For instance...

»» Ghost!Gojo likes to dig around the kitchen cupboards for candy and leaves the doors open just to annoy the older sibling and leave the mom exasperated. They leave out a bowl of candy for him in the living room after that, hoping it would discourage his behavior, but nope... It's still Gojo, and he does what he wants.

»» Ghost!Gojo also pranks the mom and moves things around in the kitchen to confuse her. The first time he did it, she got scared. A few more times, she got so annoyed. But after like the umpteenth time, the mom just rolls her eyes, like, "Haha, very funny, Satoru! I'm getting stuff from the laundry room, and this kitchen better be sorted when I get back."

»» Mom has definitely threatened to call 'ghostbusters' on Satoru's ass multiple times, and Gojo thinks it's hilarious. She never actually does anything to drive him away. To be honest, she quite likes the fact that her kids have a babysitter when she has to work late... Even if said babysitter is a wandering spirit.

»» On that note, Ghost!Gojo takes his babysitting duties seriously, and proclaims himself the best babysitter ever!

»» Ghost!Gojo does all the typical things people do to entertain toddlers. He talks to her toddler, entertains them, makes them laugh, tickles them, slips candies in their lap, picks up toys and disappears from view to give the toddler a fun puppet show -- with all the floating toys and shit.

»» The older sibling actually saw him doing this one time when they slipped into their younger sibling's room, and they just had to laugh, because who would have thought their family of three would be lucky enough to move into an apartment haunted by a very friendly ghost.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps mom cook sometimes, fetching her ingredients from the pantry and stuff. If a normal person were in that kitchen, all they would see are floating ingredients. It's enough to give anyone a heart attack, but for mom and her 2 kids, it's just Satoru.

»» One time, the older sibling invited their friends over and one of their friends got the idea to play with a Ouija board after the older sibling joked about the apartment being haunted.

»» They play with the ouija board, and Satoru plays into it for fun. Pre-teen kid's friends are terrified, but the pre-teen kid is amused as hell, because they know it's just Gojo.

»» When the friends go home, they tell the pre-teen kid about how much fun they had, and pre-teen kid thanks Ghost!Gojo for being kind enough to play along.

»» Ghost!Gojo has a habit of collecting coins.

»» Ghost!Gojo has never actually tried leaving the confines of the apartment before, but the pre-teen kid asks and they actually figure it out together.

»» They had so much fun doing it too... Ghost!Gojo figures out a way to possess random objects so the pre-teen kid can take him anywhere.

»» That being said, Ghost!Gojo has possessed the most ridiculous things. Think Ghost!Gojo possessing laundry detergent, the coffee table, the toilet paper, etc. He possessed the oven once and it broke, and the mom got so mad, so Ghost!Gojo steers clear of possessing electronic devices from then on.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps the kids surprise their mom during holidays... e.g., Mother's Day, Christmas, etc. For obvious reason, the family starts loving Halloween, because Ghost!Gojo loves it so much.

»» The toddler starts calling Ghost!Gojo 'Papa'.

»» It warms moms heart and hurts her at the same time. 

»» Because Satoru Gojo would have made a wonderful father.

»» Ghost!Gojo sometimes wishes he was still alive so he could court mom properly...

»» And since he can't do anything about the fact that he's dead (a ghost for practically one year now), all he can do now is watch over them and make them as happy as possible...

»» Ghost!Gojo promises to stay for as long as he can, for as long as he is permitted.

»» Ghost!Gojo gets to see the kids grow up, move out, and he gets to see mom grow old too...

»» It breaks his heart to watch the people he's grown to care about grow old, while he stays frozen in time, haunting this little apartment forever.

»» Eventually, mom had to say 'goodbye', deciding she wanted to move to the countryside. It wasn't an easy decision...

»» The kids, now adults, return to their childhood apartment to help mom move away, and although Ghost!Gojo rarely shows himself these days, he appears one last time.

»» Unsurprisingly, leaving the place behind is hard. Every time they look back on their childhood, it's undeniably brighter and more colorful, and it's all because of the beloved ghost who made their lives so much brighter because of his presence.

»» Ghost!Gojo was their 'Dad,' 'Older Brother', 'Fun Uncle', and 'Annoying Roommate'. He's worn so many hats as the kids grew up.

»» Satoru doesn't stop them from moving away, only thanking them for showing him what it would have been like for him if he had been lucky enough to grow old with kids of his own. He never had that in his life, but he's glad that he got to have that even after he'd died.

»» He doesn't know how long he's sentenced to wander the earthly plains, but he promises to see them around.

»» The younger sibling actually cries and wishes that he was their dad for real.

»» The mom, now old but still sweet and kind, thanks Ghost!Gojo for being part of their family.

It was goodbye...

Gojo: I'm sad and forever bound to an apartment building.

Also Gojo: I will terrorize the next dweller if they're a dick.

The next occupant is an asshole who cheats on his significant other... Ghost!Gojo is making their life hell.

I kind of want to write a fic about this now 🥴

[maddiethedogstories]

Too Big For His Britches

I've been teasing @pinkducttape a little too much lately. As a self-imposed punishment (the joy of being a switch is that I get to be my own Dom) I wrote this horrible story staring myself, my imaginary Mommy, @pinkducttape, and their awesome Daddy, Midnight. Enjoy my attonement, I guess?

Today, I was feeling BIG! Mommy, my wife, had been so proud of me using the potty and staying accident free for the last week that she decided it was finally time for me to graduate from pull-ups to big kid undies!

Should have I felt embarrassed that, as a 32-year-old man, being allowed to wear a pair of Spider-Man underwear by my wife felt like a massive victory? Probably.

Did I? No.

The feeling of the soft cotton underwear under the jean shorts Mommy had dressed me in was far superior to the warm, bulky feel of the training pants and diapers I was now, much to used to. How could I not feel happy with my new found freedom?

Adding to my excitement was that today, the day I had graduated from 'Little' to 'Middle,' Mommy was taking me on a playdate! I was going to get to go hang out with Sunset, one of my best friends, while Mommy hung out with their Daddy, Midnight. I just knew that Little Sunsie was going to still be waddling around in diapers, while I would get to show off just how much of a big kid I was to them. It was going to be great!

It didn't take long for us to get to the secluded park where Mommy always took me for my playdates. I sat in the backseat, idly sucking my thumb while I thought about how I was going to tease my friend for still being a stinky little, while I, on the other hand, was a much more mature big kid. My wandering thoughts were interrupted by Mommy's voice.

"Baby Bean, are you drinking your water like you're supposed to be? It's going to be hot out there, and I don't want you getting dehydrated!"

I groaned as I popped my thumb out of my mouth and reached for my Bluey-themed water bottle in the cup holder. Didn't Mommy know I was a big kid? She's the one who held out my big kid undies for me to step into this morning for goose's sake! I didn't need to be reminded to drink water like some silly little baby. But, talking back wasn't worth the fight, not on a day like today. Plus, Mommy was right, as usual. It was really hot outside, and I was feeling thirsty just sitting in the car. There wasn't any harm in doing what she asked, just this one time. Having made up my mind, I replaced my thumb with the nipple of my water bottle and sucked down its contents as we drew closer to the park.

As usual, when we got to our destination, there was only one other car in the parking lot. Mommy and I both recognized it immediately. The pink and rainbow duct tape decorating it was a dead giveaway.

"Look, Baby Bean! Sunsie and Midnight are already here," Mommy said as she parked the car next to our friends' vehicle. She then turned back to me, staring at me sternly, "Now, I know you've earned the right to be a big boy today, but that does not mean you get to be rude. Make sure to be nice to Sunsie. They can't help being an adorable little pamper packer. Also, do not forget to come and tell me when you need me to take you to the potty. Got it?"

I nodded my head up and down in affirmation, happy that my Bluey water bottle hid the blush forming on my cheeks from the mention of asking Mommy to take me to the potty. And, when I nodded my head, agreeing to be nice to Sunset and ask to use the potty, I really meant it. Just because I was planning on teasing Baby Sunsie just a little, didn't mean I wasn't going to be nice to them!

I waited patiently as Mommy walked around the back of the car, opened the door and unbuckled my seat belt. Immediately, I sprinted past Mommy towards the mostly abandoned playground where I knew Sunset would be playing.

"Suuuuunnnnnssssssiiiiiiieeeeeee! We're here!" I yelled exhuberantly as I spotted my friend, sitting in the sandbox in a pastel yellow t-shirt and a pair of jean shortalls that did little to hide the thick diaper bulging at their waist. I was so excited, I didn't notice the pressure building in my bladder as I greeted my friend with a big, uncoordinated hug.

Midnight watched, smiling from their perch on a nearby park bench as I tackled Sunset into the sand in my excitement. From a distance behind me, I could hear my Mommy yelling out with an exasperated tone.

"Maddie! Careful! Don't hurt poor, little Sunsie!" She yelled breathlessly as she ran up behind me.

Sunset, for their part, was overjoyed to see me. They giggled as I wrapped my arms around them and accidentally knocked them over.

Midnight, with a better vantage of what was going on, immediately replied to my Mommy, "Oh, don't worry! It's just kids being kids! Now, get over here! We've got some catching up to do!"

The adults faded out of my awareness as Sunset and I righted ourselves, giggling in the sandbox. Sunset had clearly come prepared to play with all of their toys. Trucks, blocks, dolls, dinosaurs, and tractors were strewn about the sandy landscape my friend had constructed.

"Sunset, Sunset! Guess what?!" I asked, my excitement overflowing.

Sunset rolled their eyes at my bubbliness, but grinned good-naturedly at my excitement. "What 'Baby Bean?'" they asked, teasing me with my Mommy's nickname for me.

"That's just it!" I responded, ignoring the barb, "I'm not a baby anymore! Look! Mommy's letting me wear undies!"

I pulled down the elastic waist band of my jean shorts revealing the front of the cotton Spider-Man underwear I was wearing. Sunset's eyes grew wide. A grin spread across my face as I saw the hints of both jealousy and admiration I was hoping see in my friend's demeanor.

"That's right," I said, letting the elastic waistband of my shorts snap back into place, "no more diapers, or pull-ups, or training potties! I'm a real big boy now! I bet your Daddy will even let me babysit your stinky bottom soon!" I stuck my tongue out to emphasize my point.

As I spoke, I started to squirm uncomfortably. I felt a mounting pressure in my bladder, but it wasn't anything urgent enough to deal with yet. I couldn't leave to go potty now, just as I was starting to rub my new status in my friend's face.

"Yep, I bet it'll only be a couple weeks before I'm holding your leash, droppin' you off at daycare, before I get to go back to my REAL job!" I continued to tease Sunset. I couldn't tell if their face was getting red out of embarrassment or anger, but, frankly, high on my own increased status, I didn't care.

"Stop it, Maddie! It's cool you get to wear undies and all, but you're still just a baby like me! Nobody's gonna let you be a babysitter! You're not 'sponsible enough!" Sunset spat out unconvincingly, a hint of concern that their friend of once equal status could turn into yet another caregiver.

"Oh, Sunsie," I said, trying my best to imitate the condescending tone my Mommy used with me when I got high and mighty, "I'm not a baby like you though! Look at me, sitting in my big kid underwear. And look at you, I bet your diapers so soggy you're about to leak."

I extended one hand over to Subset's diapered crotch and squeezed it for emphasis. Too my utter delight, it was thoroughly soaked. Sunset, suddenly aware of the disastrous state of their diaper, turned bright red at my touch and tried to back away but only succeeded at falling on their back in the sand again.

"Aw! Did Little Sunsie fall down and go boom? Does the little baby in their soggy diaper not like being checked? Is it cause you want to keep playing in it like an icky little toddler? Is that why you don't wanna potty train and be a big kid like me?" I hovered over Sunset as I teased them, loving every second of watching their skin turn as red as a tomato out of fear, rage, and shame.

As I teased, Sunset couldn't even get a word out from where they lay in the sandbox. "I… No… Not… Baby… Gah… Big Kid… Diap…." Sunset's sputtering then suddenly stopped, and a big grin spread across their face. Unfortunately, I didn't notice it.

"Aw, is the little baby too little to talk! That's ok! Maybe I can go get your paci from your Daddy. Babies who waddle around in soggy pants like you shouldn't be talking like a big kid like me anyway!"

I couldn't stop. I was channeling all of the repressed anger and shame I had bottled up over the last few years as Mommy's perfect little pamper-packing, stuffy-humper. I was ready to throw every insult and taunt I had ever heard at Sunset, my friend, just so I could feel bigger and more powerful than someone else. I was becoming a monster in superhero underoos.

Luckily for me and my friendship with Sunsie, my reign of terror was cut short. From behind me, a familiar voice spoke.

"Beanie Baby! I did not just catch you bullying sweet little Sunsie. Come with me!"

As Mommy grabbed me by the ear, yanking me away, Sunset started laughing maniacally as they laid in the sand, excited to watch Mommy deliver whatever diabolical punishment I had earned.

I whined as Mommy dragged me across the park by my ear. "Owie! Mommy! This hurts! I didn't do nothing! I just said the truth."

"Madison James! I don't want to hear it. I heard what you were telling poor Baby Sunsie over there, and it was not acceptable!" Mommy lectured as she pulled me.

My bladder was starting to ache. The nervousness and fear of my punishment only adding to my desperation. I decided to change tack.

"Mommy! I hafta go potty!" I wailed, hoping my growing desperation to pee could distract my wife from my punishment.

It didn't.

"Well, if you're as big a kid as you were telling Sunset over there, you should have no problem holding it while you're being punished."

A new panic struck me as I suddenly realized that I might not be able to do that. I didn't want to go back to pull-ups, let alone diapers like Sunset because I had an accident while in time out!

I struggled uselessly against the grip Mommy had on my ear as she dragged me to the tree nearest to the playground.

"Nose to the tree. Now!" Mommy said as we reached our destination.

Rubbing my sore ear, I did as I was told, feeling the rough bark scrape against the tip of my nose.

"You have more than earned yourself a time out little one! Bullying poor Sunsie! In front of their Daddy! Do you know how embarrassed I am of you, Little Man? Do you know how bad you made me look as a Mommy and a wife?"

A tear rolled down my cheek as my wife explained how my actions made her feel. How could I have been so careless and thoughtless to not think about how my actions reflected on her? Midnight was one of her best friends, and I had embarrassed her in front of them. Maybe I was nothing more than the thoughtless child she thought of me as.

Mommy saw my tears and, instead of comforting me, leaned into my suffering.

"That's right baby, you embarrassed Mommy. You made Mommy look bad. You made Mommy look like she can't control you. I want you to think about that while you stand here for the next, oh, let's say, 30 minutes."

"30 minutes…" I tried to protest, but before I could say more, a pacifier was shoved in my mouth.

"No talking during time out. That stays in. And yes, 30 minutes," Mommy said sternly.

I grumbled behind my pacifier as I silently calculated whether I could actually keep from wetting myself for that long. Before I could come up with a plan to both stay put and dry, my thoughts were interrupted by the familiar feeling of my shorts being pulled down to my ankles.

"Oh, and since you were so proud of these undies, mister," my wife said from behind me, "I think it's only fair you get to show them off for your whole time out."

I was glad my face was towards the tree as a deep red blush bloomed across my cheeks. I could perfectly picture my cotton clad ass on display, the red, white, and blue picture of a web that made the undies look so cool and big kid in the store, making me look so childish while standing in time out.

Making matters worse, only moments after my undies were put on display, I heard Midnight's soft giggle behind me.

"Aw! Aren't those precious?" They said condescendingly.

I fresh wave of embarrassment passed through me at those words. However, I closed my eyes, bit down hard on my paci, and settled in to survive the next 30 minutes as best I could. The pressure from my bladder was only getting stronger, but I was determined to keep my underwear dry. I was a big boy, after all, really, nearly an adult again.

After 15 minutes, my determination not to wet myself had waned drastically. With my nose still pressed to the trunk of the tree, I shifted my weight from leg to leg, only able to do a pathetic little potty shuffle rather than a full on potty dance with my shorts still wrapped around my ankles.

The sound of a crinkling diaper announced Sunset's approach. Unable to turn to look at them, I could only imagine the satisfied smirk that I was sure was plastered to their face.

"Oh no! Does the BIG boy need to go potty? You better show the poor, little baby how to keep your undies dry! You wouldn't wanna have an accident in front a little kid like me!" Sunset taunted as they toddled closer to me.

I groaned behind my pacifier, not willing to risk the consequences of talking during time out. However, although I desperately wanted to yell at my friend to go away, I knew I deserved every insult they flung at me.

It only took moments for my friend's face to appear in the corner of my vision.

"Oh no, can Big Bad Maddie not talk right now because he's sucking on his paci? I thought paci's were for babies, not big kids?"

I groaned again, the sound muffled by the shield of the pacifier as I shuffled from foot to foot in discomfort again. The pressure in my bladder was so bad I could barely focus on Sunset's words.

"Oh no! You aren't doing a potty dance, are you Baby Bean? I bet you wish you were wearing a diaper right now! You could just let go," Sunset said before there expression changed as an idea hit them, "I mean, I gotta go potty too, and I can just go right now! Listen!"

With that, Sunset smiled, scrunched up their face and let loose. The sound of soft hissing as their urine hit their diaper filled my ears. The sound was too much. I couldn't hold it anymore. Tears started to well in my eyes as I felt a warm wet stream of pee release into my once pristine Spider-Man undies, only to immediately become warm, disgusting rivers of urine, running down my thighs.

As I felt my pee run down my legs into my shoes, I also could feel my chances of becoming a big kid again drift away too. I began to bawl behind my pacifier, not just because I was ashamed of my accident, but also because I was upset at myself for the bratty behavior that got me here.

"Oh, Baby Bean! Did you piddle in your cute Lil' Spider-Man undies? Spider-Man looks sad! He's not Aquaman. He doesn't like getting all wet," Sunset teased. Their words stung more because I knew they were in a soggy situation of their own that was somehow more babyish, but also less embarrassing. "Daddy! Maddie's Mommy! Maddie has an accident!"

My fear overwhelmed my sorrow as I heard Mommy and Midnight walk up behind me.

"What was that sweet, little Sunsie?" Mommy asked my friend turned temporary nemesis.

"Baby Bean wet his undies! Go look!" Sunset responded with more excitement than I really thought was necessary.

A soft, familiar hand grabbed my shoulder, gently inviting me to turn around. I didn't want to. Maybe, if I just stayed here for a while, my undies would dry and no one would be the wiser. It was hot out, after all.

Mommy wasn't going to let me live out my delusion though. "Turn around sweetie, let's see the damage."

Her instruction and a more forceful pull got me to turn around. A dark stain covered the entire front of my underwear. The streams of urine running down my leg were far too obvious. And, even the shorts and socks at my ankles were stained from my shameful accident. I wanted to cry as Mommy forced me to hold me arms up, beant over, and tugged disappointedly on my soaked Spider-Man undies as she inspected them.

"Beanie Baby, you destroyed these poor undies! And your shorts, socks, and shoes? I thought you were a big boy?" My wife chastised me as she pulled and picked at my soaked clothing. "You were doing so good I didn't even bring a change!"

I looked up to see Midnight given Sunset a similar inspection, albeit with much less disappointment in their demeanor.

"Looks like Little Mads isn't the only super soaker here, Sunsie's diaper is pretty wet too," Midnight said as they completed their inspection, "Did you say you didn't bring a change? I've got plenty of extra diapers in my bag and maybe some spare tights. Why don't we change these little stinkers together?"

"Midnight, you are a lifesaver! Are you sure you can spare a diaper? I know how many Sunsie goes through!" Mommy responded, causing Sunset to blush for once.

"I sure do! Sunsie can be quite the pamper packer sometimes, but if my Little Sunset needs to sit in their mess for a bit, they'll survive," Midnight answered.

As Mommy and Midnight talked about diapering me with Sunset, my outrage started to grow. I just had one accident! And I warned Mommy that I needed to go! She was the one that made me stand with my nose to the tree! I shouldn't be put back in diapers! Maybe a pull-up or training pants, but a diaper was too far. I opened my mouth to tell Mommy as much.

"Mommy, this…" That was as far as I made it before my wife shot a hostile glare towards me.

"No! I will not hear a word out of you, Madison James. I trusted you to be big. I trusted you to be kind. I trusted you to keep your pants dry. Obviously, I cannot trust you. You will be going back to diapers. I will not tolerate any grief. Otherwise, I will throw you over my lap and show you just how little you are, understood?"

My stomach dropped to my toes. I hadn't been lectured like that for years. Not stupid enough to risk my Mommy's wraith, I nodded my head and responded, "Yeth, Mama." I kept suckling the pacifier, now happy it was in my mouth for the comfort it provided.

Mommy helped me take off my wet clothes before taking my hand at the same time that Midnight took Sunset's. We were both led back to the bench where our two caregivers had been chatting earlier. Sunset waddled in their soggy diaper as I walked normally, save for being completely naked below the waist. Once at the bench, Midnight quickly pulled out a large blanket laid it on the grass.

"Alright little ones, lie down," Mommy said, directing Sunset and I to lay down next to each other to be changed like the small children we were being treated as, something we'd done together hundreds of times before.

We both quickly complied with my wife's gentle command as Midnight dug through their diaper bag, getting out changing supplies for two infantilized adults.

"Um, Maddie's Mommy?" Sunset asked as we waited on our backs.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Mommy answered.

"Do you think I could get your phone and watch a show while I got changed? I've been good and haven't had any screen time all day!" Sunset begged.

From across the nearby bench, Midnight called out, "Don't give it to them! It's my fault, really, but we're really trying to break little Sunsie's screen addiction."

Sunset pouted as Mommy smiled down at them. It didn't take long for Midnight to join us with two diapers in hand.

"Let's get these babies back to clean and dry!" Midnight announced as they knelt down and began unsnapping the buttons of Sunset's shortalls.

With expert hands, Mommy and Midnight changed me and Sunset. Where normally, Sunset and I would joke and giggle as we got changed together, today, with my fall from grace, I couldn't bring myself to even make eye contact with my friend as my wife wiped my butt and other delicate bits.

Mommy and Midnight had us both changed and back up quickly. Once I was standing in nothing but a T-shirt and a diaper in the grass, Mommy pulled me to the side.

"Maddie, your behavior today has been unacceptable. Clearly, you are not ready for the level of responsibility that I thought you were. Thinking you were was my fault. So, now, until you prove me otherwise, I am demoting you back to diapers, but know that that is based on my mistake, not yours," Mommy began.

"That said," Mommy continued, "You messed up too. I warned you to be nice. I warned you to keep your pants dry. You didn't. Sunset is your friend, and you bullied them. That is not okay."

"I am not going to make you finish your time out. I don't think you would learn anything from it," Mommy lectured, "But I do need you to do one more thing before you can go back to playing. I need you to apologize to Midnight for bullying her precious little one, and I need you to apologize to Sunset for being a bad friend. Can you do that for me?"

Looking down past the bulging diaper around my waist to my bare feet, I let myself feel shame for my behavior yet again. "Yeth, Mommy," I answered, the pacifier still stuck between my lips.

With that, I waddled off to do as Mommy asked. The bulk of the diaper between my legs felt both foreign after the months of training pants and underwear, but, at the same time, frustratingly familiar.

I approached Midnight first, feeling my apology to them would be easier. I popped my pacifier out of my mouth so my apology would sound more sincere.

"Um, Sunset's Daddy? I, um, am sorry for bullying Sunsie," I said timidly.

Midnight looked at me with gentle, but stern eyes.

"Thank you for apologizing, buddy, but it's not me who you need to apologize to, is it?"

I shook my head up and down. "No, it's not."

"Who should you apologize to, baby?" Midnight asked.

"Sunset," I responded meekly, avoid eye contact with my friend's daddy.

"Yes, Little One," they said softly, "But who else?"

I looked up at Midnight, confused. Who else was there to apologize to?

Midnight smiled knowingly, then looked pointedly over my shoulder. I turned and saw Mommy picking up our make-shift changing station.

"Was how you acted nice to your Mommy?" Midnight asked.

I looked down at my feet in shame again. "No, it wasn't. I probably owe her an apology too, huh?" I answered.

"What a smart boy! Maybe you'll get another chance at undies again, yet? I don't know if I can say the same about my Sunsie," Midnight said, turning to look at Sunset for the first time since we began talking and catching them digging through their diaper bag. "Hey! Get out of there! Go play! I didn't pack your tabbie and Daddy's phone is in my pocket! No screen time!"

As Sunset ran off chastened, I followed, wanting to apologize to my friend both because I was ordered to and because it was the right thing to do.

"Sunsie," I said as we reached to sandbox again, "I'm sorry I was mean to you. Can we still be friends?"

Sunset turned to me with their trademark bright and friendly smile. "Thanks for saying sorry, Mads! And, of course we're still friends! Who else is going to put up with my smelly butt and listen to me complain about being put in my crib early?"

Sunset followed up their statement with a big, warm hug.

"Now, let's play!" Sunset said.

I had to disappoint Sunset one more time today, though. "Sorry, Sunsie, I'll come play in a sec. I gotta go say sorry to Mommy first."

With that I turned and toddled back to Mommy, who was now sitting on the bench with Midnight again. Midnight smiled at me reassuringly as I approached, obvious remorse in my body language.

"Mommy?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes, Beanie Baby?" She responded, a note of frustration still lingering in her tone.

"I, uh, wanted to say, well," I took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I was naughty and embarrassed you. I shouldn't have." Tears started to flow as I remembered Mommy's angry lecture at the tree. "I'll never do it again! Please, just don't hate me!"

Mommy's body language and tone softened immediately as I broke down during my apology. She stood up from the bench and wrapped me in a comforting hug.

"Oh, Baby Bean, I could never hate you! Mommy was just frustrated. Everyone is naughty sometimes! You just got a little too big for your britches!"

I nuzzled into Mommy as she hugged and reassured me. She was right. I had gotten too big for my britches. But, a nagging feeling told me that Mommy was going to keep me nice and little from now on, so that being 'too big' would never be an issue again.

[hanahaki-disease]

Mouth of Infinity

A Percy Jackson x DC crossover

Summary:

“Lying on their stomach on the other side of the roof was a boy his age. Percy knew the kid. He was in fourth grade class, but he didn’t really talk to the others. Preferring to stick by himself and fiddle with the camera he took with him everywhere.”

Tim and Percy are Best Friends and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands

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

Percy grunted, pulling himself up and over the last rung of the ladder. The concrete-asphalt of the roof beneath him dug into his back uncomfortably, but he was just glad that he didn’t have to climb anymore. A light drizzle had begun to fall during his climb, making everything the tiniest bit slippery, but Percy didn’t mind. He liked the rain. It was calming and peaceful and if he was delusional enough, he could pretend it was the ocean. With gentle waves crashing ashore over and over again.

He sat up, eyes trailing over the various shades of white and yellow from the apartments and offices of the buildings around him. With one hand, he traced the imaginary lines that connected them to each other like constellations. One cluster looked like the Pleiades, another a wonky Corvus, there were quite a few rams, and if he squinted and tilted his head almost all the way upside down there was an Orion. But that wasn’t what he was there for.

Lying on their stomach on the other side of the roof was a boy his age. A large hoodie dwarfed his body and the hood was pulled up to hide his head, but the kid size eight Robin inspired sketchers that gave him away. Percy knew the kid. He was in fourth grade class, but he didn’t really talk to the others. Preferring to stick by himself and fiddle with the camera he took with him everywhere.

“Hey Tim, what’cha doing?” Percy laid next to him, peering around his hand to see what was on his camera.

“Ah!” Tim yelped and tucked the device close to his chest. “Percy? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, you know,” He retaliated. “What were you taking pictures of?”

“Batman and Robin.” Tim brought the camera closer to Percy, showing off the amateur shots. They were pretty good if Percy had to say so himself. Some were a bit blurry, but the best one was of Jason sitting next to his favorite gargoyle. Mouth open in a smile as if he was laughing with the stone statue. Another one had Jason with his arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck, little green booties barely touching the ground beneath him.

Percy knew his dad was Batman and that his brother was Robin. Hell, the first time they met Bruce (technically) was when Jason was stealing the tires off the Batmobile. But Percy wasn’t really interested in being a Robin like his brother or like Dick. It just didn’t call to him the same way it did for Jason. And besides, Jason had to worry about Percy ever since Catherine died, he didn’t want his big brother to worry about him jumping around Gotham with a target on his back. And Jason was happy being Robin, Percy didn’t want to take that from him.

That doesn’t mean Percy wasn’t down in the cave with them though. He had a spot next to Alfred on comms and was a pretty good stitch when needed. He trained with Jason when he wanted and helped with cases as best he could—he wasn’t the best detective—and Bruce didn’t seem to mind when Percy put on his cowl and pretend to be him.

“Can you print this one for me?” Percy pointed to the camera. “It looks cool.” It was a simple portrait shot of the dynamic duo. Their backs faced the camera but Jason had turned to face Bruce, a wide smile and his hands in the air, as if he was talking animatedly about something. Bruce was giving him a smile, listening intently at his middle child.

“You sure?” Tim asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! I think it’s cool, do you have more?” Percy smiled and tucked his arms further under him. “How many do you have, I’ve seen you mess with your camera, like, all year, so you gotta have a whole bunch, right?” Tim nodded his head. “Neat! You wanna come over after school? You can bring your pictures over and tell me how you got them because , dude, if you’re climbing buildings every night to get them, you gotta be like, hella ripped.”

“You want me to come over?”

“Heck yeah! You’re a cool dude,” Percy said. “And you seem like you need friends. I don’t have any because no one wants to be with a street rat, they’re all too stuck up and snobby.”

“Especially Marie,” Tim chuckled.

“Don’t even get me started on Marie!” Percy groaned and dragged his hand over his face dramatically, smiling when Tim laughed.

Their conversation flowed naturally after that. Their laughter echoing in the alley below and making the lights of Gotham seem a little brighter. They talked about anything and everything that came to mind, and Tim was the first person besides Jason, Alfred, or Bruce who listened to his marine rants. He seemed genuinely interested with what Percy had to say, which was a relief, and in exchange Percy listened to Tim babble about the various heroes around the world.

They had to say goodbye to each other when the moon was beginning its decent, but they picked up their conversation in the morning as if they hadn’t stopped. It hadn’t seem to stop either, as the days go on, the two seemed joint at the hip. They played some amalgamation of Batman and Robin or Batman and Joker during recess, Percy would show Tim how to skateboard in the long drive way of Wayne Manor, Tim would teach Percy photography.

It wasn’t a rare sight to see them at the manor after school either, or following Jason like ducklings during galas. The few times Dick had been there, he tried to ignore Jason and Percy, but Tim was adamant about seeing him. And Percy knew why. Tim had been there the night the Graysons fell, sure, he was like three, but he was there! He saw them do the quadruple somersault in person before their untimely demise and he really wanted to talk to him about something.

“He doesn’t like us, Tim,” Percy said one gala night. He tugged at the collar of his suit, hating the feeling of it around his throat, but Alfred would get mad if he loosened his tie. Because if Percy did it, then Jason would think it’s okay. And then Bruce would do it too because both his sons were doing it, and he didn’t want to be the odd man out. (Dick wasn’t wearing a tie this time, a way to rebel against Bruce.)”I told you that.”

“I know but I gotta talk to him,” Tim wiped his hands on the napkin. They had a good little pile of hor dourves between them and had been snacking while their parents – Percy’s dad more like since Tim’s parents were still in Barbados – mingled. “It’s important.”

“If it’s important you can tell me,’ Percy turned in his seat. “I can try to tell him after the gala when we go back to the manor.”

Tim seemed to think about this for a second, this eyes darting back and forth between the crowd and Percy. “Okay,” He lent to Percy’s ear, hands cupped to prevent someone from reading his lips and he whispered. “I know Dick is Nightwing.”

Percy pulled back, eyes wide as he stared back at his best friend. He didn’t know exactly when Tim pieced it together that Dick was Nightwing, and he was absolutely positive he hadn’t spilled anything. But Percy knew Tim was a smart kid, one of the smartest in the school, so it shouldn’t be a surprise. But if Tim knew that Dick was Nightwing, did he also know that Bruce was Batman? Or that Jason is Robin?

“H-huh? Wh-what? What do you mean?” Percy stuttered. He was going to be in so much trouble. Bruce was going to think Percy spilled the beans – even though he didn’t – and he was going to be punished – thirty burpees and washing all the vehicles in the vehicle bay for a month – and he was probably not going to be allowed in the cave after that again. “How-how did you figure that?”

“The Graysons are the only ones that can do a perfect quadruple somersault,” Tim stated as if that was a fact, and it was unfortunately. “There’s a video of you-know-who doing one, so it wasn’t hard to connect the dots after that.”

“So you know?” Percy confirmed.

“Did you know?”

“Of course I knew!”

“But you…don’t go with them, how did you know?”

“I live with them, it’d be pretty awkward if I didn’t.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“And besides,” Percy shoved a cracker in his mouth. “The first time Jason and I met him, Bruce was you-know-who.”

“Really?! Wow,” Tim sighed wistfully. “Was it scary?”

“The first time yeah, the second he was just a big softy and took us home.”

“Huh.”Percy grunted, pulling himself up and over the last rung of the ladder. The concrete-asphalt of the roof beneath him dug into his back uncomfortably, but he was just glad that he didn’t have to climb anymore. A light drizzle had begun to fall during his climb, making everything the tiniest bit slippery, but Percy didn’t mind. He liked the rain. It was calming and peaceful and if he was delusional enough, he could pretend it was the ocean. With gentle waves crashing ashore over and over again.

He sat up, eyes trailing over the various shades of white and yellow from the apartments and offices of the buildings around him. With one hand, he traced the imaginary lines that connected them to each other like constellations. One cluster looked like the Pleiades, another a wonky Corvus, there were quite a few rams, and if he squinted and tilted his head almost all the way upside down there was an Orion. But that wasn’t what he was there for.

Lying on their stomach on the other side of the roof was a boy his age. A large hoodie dwarfed his body and the hood was pulled up to hide his head, but the kid size eight Robin inspired sketchers that gave him away. Percy knew the kid. He was in fourth grade class, but he didn’t really talk to the others. Preferring to stick by himself and fiddle with the camera he took with him everywhere.

“Hey Tim, what’cha doing?” Percy laid next to him, peering around his hand to see what was on his camera.

“Ah!” Tim yelped and tucked the device close to his chest. “Percy? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, you know,” He retaliated. “What were you taking pictures of?”

“Batman and Robin.” Tim brought the camera closer to Percy, showing off the amateur shots. They were pretty good if Percy had to say so himself. Some were a bit blurry, but the best one was of Jason sitting next to his favorite gargoyle. Mouth open in a smile as if he was laughing with the stone statue. Another one had Jason with his arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck, little green booties barely touching the ground beneath him.

Percy knew his dad was Batman and that his brother was Robin. Hell, the first time they met Bruce (technically) was when Jason was stealing the tires off the Batmobile. But Percy wasn’t really interested in being a Robin like his brother or like Dick. It just didn’t call to him the same way it did for Jason. And besides, Jason had to worry about Percy ever since Catherine died, he didn’t want his big brother to worry about him jumping around Gotham with a target on his back. And Jason was happy being Robin, Percy didn’t want to take that from him.

That doesn’t mean Percy wasn’t down in the cave with them though. He had a spot next to Alfred on comms and was a pretty good stitch when needed. He trained with Jason when he wanted and helped with cases as best he could—he wasn’t the best detective—and Bruce didn’t seem to mind when Percy put on his cowl and pretend to be him.

“Can you print this one for me?” Percy pointed to the camera. “It looks cool.” It was a simple portrait shot of the dynamic duo. Their backs faced the camera but Jason had turned to face Bruce, a wide smile and his hands in the air, as if he was talking animatedly about something. Bruce was giving him a smile, listening intently at his middle child.

“You sure?” Tim asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! I think it’s cool, do you have more?” Percy smiled and tucked his arms further under him. “How many do you have, I’ve seen you mess with your camera, like, all year, so you gotta have a whole bunch, right?” Tim nodded his head. “Neat! You wanna come over after school? You can bring your pictures over and tell me how you got them because , dude, if you’re climbing buildings every night to get them, you gotta be like, hella ripped.”

“You want me to come over?”

“Heck yeah! You’re a cool dude,” Percy said. “And you seem like you need friends. I don’t have any because no one wants to be with a street rat, they’re all too stuck up and snobby.”

“Especially Marie,” Tim chuckled.

“Don’t even get me started on Marie!” Percy groaned and dragged his hand over his face dramatically, smiling when Tim laughed.

Their conversation flowed naturally after that. Their laughter echoing in the alley below and making the lights of Gotham seem a little brighter. They talked about anything and everything that came to mind, and Tim was the first person besides Jason, Alfred, or Bruce who listened to his marine rants. He seemed genuinely interested with what Percy had to say, which was a relief, and in exchange Percy listened to Tim babble about the various heroes around the world.

They had to say goodbye to each other when the moon was beginning its decent, but they picked up their conversation in the morning as if they hadn’t stopped. It hadn’t seem to stop either, as the days go on, the two seemed joint at the hip. They played some amalgamation of Batman and Robin or Batman and Joker during recess, Percy would show Tim how to skateboard in the long drive way of Wayne Manor, Tim would teach Percy photography.

It wasn’t a rare sight to see them at the manor after school either, or following Jason like ducklings during galas. The few times Dick had been there, he tried to ignore Jason and Percy, but Tim was adamant about seeing him. And Percy knew why. Tim had been there the night the Graysons fell, sure, he was like three, but he was there! He saw them do the quadruple somersault in person before their untimely demise and he really wanted to talk to him about something.

“He doesn’t like us, Tim,” Percy said one gala night. He tugged at the collar of his suit, hating the feeling of it around his throat, but Alfred would get mad if he loosened his tie. Because if Percy did it, then Jason would think it’s okay. And then Bruce would do it too because both his sons were doing it, and he didn’t want to be the odd man out. (Dick wasn’t wearing a tie this time, a way to rebel against Bruce.)”I told you that.”

“I know but I gotta talk to him,” Tim wiped his hands on the napkin. They had a good little pile of hor dourves between them and had been snacking while their parents – Percy’s dad more like since Tim’s parents were still in Barbados – mingled. “It’s important.”

“If it’s important you can tell me,’ Percy turned in his seat. “I can try to tell him after the gala when we go back to the manor.”

Tim seemed to think about this for a second, this eyes darting back and forth between the crowd and Percy. “Okay,” He lent to Percy’s ear, hands cupped to prevent someone from reading his lips and he whispered. “I know Dick is Nightwing.”

Percy pulled back, eyes wide as he stared back at his best friend. He didn’t know exactly when Tim pieced it together that Dick was Nightwing, and he was absolutely positive he hadn’t spilled anything. But Percy knew Tim was a smart kid, one of the smartest in the school, so it shouldn’t be a surprise. But if Tim knew that Dick was Nightwing, did he also know that Bruce was Batman? Or that Jason is Robin?

“H-huh? Wh-what? What do you mean?” Percy stuttered. He was going to be in so much trouble. Bruce was going to think Percy spilled the beans – even though he didn’t – and he was going to be punished – thirty burpees and washing all the vehicles in the vehicle bay for a month – and he was probably not going to be allowed in the cave after that again. “How-how did you figure that?”

“The Graysons are the only ones that can do a perfect quadruple somersault,” Tim stated as if that was a fact, and it was unfortunately. “There’s a video of you-know-who doing one, so it wasn’t hard to connect the dots after that.”

“So you know?” Percy confirmed.

“Did you know?”

“Of course I knew!”

“But you…don’t go with them, how did you know?”

“I live with them, it’d be pretty awkward if I didn’t.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“And besides,” Percy shoved a cracker in his mouth. “The first time Jason and I met him, Bruce was you-know-who.”

“Really?! Wow,” Tim sighed wistfully. “Was it scary?”

“The first time yeah, the second he was just a big softy and took us home.”

“Huh.”

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

There isn’t much to say besides that these two are menaces and that this is the harbinger of angst and pain for the rest of the series :)

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[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Inferum

Prologue

Jake x OC (f)

Warnings: possibly spooky subject to some, talk of human remains

Quocumque ingrederis sequitur mors corporis umbra.

My story begins like any other I suppose. When I was small and staying with my Grandma Julie, as I did most weekends, I saw my first fantôme, ghost. As I lay sleeping, I woke to a woman sitting at the end of my bed. She was old, her red hair reminded me of a poodle and the way she dressed seemed out of place, even to a five year old. She lounged at the end of the bed, legs crossed, one arm draped across her lap and a cigarette in the hand of the other. Up until then my little mind had not thought to be frightened, just confused. 

Then, she took a drag of her cigarette and slowly faced me. She stared at me, unblinking. My heart began to pound and I could feel my throat begin to close from the sheer terror that coursed through my body. I wanted to scream, jump up and run to my grandmother, anything! But I was frozen in place. All I could do was screw my eyes shut and pray for her to go away.

The next morning, I told Grandma Julie about the woman in my room. She, like most adults, thought nothing of it and figured the woman was an imaginary friend I’d conjured up. That is until I began to describe her. As I recounted the details of the woman, from the color of her pants to the pattern on her sweater, my grandmother’s face slowly began to fall.

“Oh! And she had funny looking hair. It was red like yours, but looked like cotton candy!” I’d said.

All color drained from Grandma’s face. Her hand slowly raised and covered her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes and she whispered, “Oh, God!” I later learned that the person I’d described had been my grandmother’s mother, Ava. Not only that, but the way I described her was how she’d looked the day she told Grandma Julie that she had lung cancer. 

Since that day, I’ve never stopped pursuing the paranormal. It started with me asking my parents– or rather any adult– about ghosts. Were they real? Had the woman I’d seen just been in my head like my mother tried to convince me? As I got older, I would read any ghost story I could get my hands on, be it fiction, reddit forums; whatever form they took. Some would say that I was/am obsessed, but I’d like to think that I’m on a lifelong pursuit of knowledge. Albeit niche. 

Which brings us here, to Paris.

Paris, the city of love, the city of light, the city of the dead. It should be clear as to which name brings me here. The city of love… Ah, who am I kidding? I’m here for the Ossuaire Municipal de Paris, otherwise known as the Catacombs.

The Catacombs are steeped in mystery, the macabre, and stories of the paranormal. Which, how could they not be? They hold the remains of an estimated six million people. Not only that, but most of the remains were exhumed from their original resting place and dumped into the then abandoned limestone mines. 

But then there was good reason for this, as the cemeteries of Paris were overflowing by the mid to late 1780s. It was so overflowing and “unpleasant” to live near that it became a matter of public health and safety. So, the bones of millions began to be moved and continued to be until 1814 and then began again in 1840. 20 years later, the interment of remains officially and finally stopped.

Now, the remains weren’t left undisturbed during this time. Just before the Ossuaire Municipal de Paris was opened to the public, a man named Héricart de Thury was charged with heading the “decorative rearrangement” of the bones, that up until this point, were just pushed in the massive piles along the walls to utilize as much space as possible. So, Thury was the man who planned and executed the macabre and morbid designs and art that you see today within its walls.

These two things, the mass exhumation and further disturbance of the remains, are said to be the catalyst for the haunting of the Catacombs. Which in turn has brought thousands of urban explorers, paranormal investigators, and lovers of all things supernatural to the city. There are so many stories and urban legends told by those who have braved the uncharted parts of the catacombs. I’m sure they could fill a library's worth of books. 

This particular excursion of the city of the dead will fill mine.

taglist: @peaceloveunitygvf, @edgingthedarkness, @jakekiszkashangnail08

If you would like to be added to the taglist for future installments, let me you 🖤

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Bloody Beetle | Part Nine

Summary: the afterlife is quite what you expected it to be

Pairing: Taweret x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: it's the afterlife y'all... you dead...

A/N: please note as much as I did some research into identity disorders, it may not he 100% factual and is supposed to be taken in context of the story... as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Eight | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

Floating. 

You're floating in dark nothingness. 

Your body weightless. 

Your mind empty. 

Just… nothing…

Then you hear something in the distance. 

A voice. 

A name being called. 

Your name. 

Closer.

Closer.

The voice gets louder, angrier, as it gets closer…

“Y/N!”

— — — — 

Your head slips from your hand as you jump awake from your position, leaning against your work desk. Donna, your boss, stands on the other side of the desk, looking down at you disapprovingly. 

“Is this what we pay you for? Sleeping on the job?” She tuts before continuing to rant at you. You ignore her, looking around the familiar museum inventory room as you try to shake away your sleep. Broken remnants of a realistic feeling dream flash in your mind, like a puzzle missing half the pieces. 

You had been in Egypt, that much is clear. But what were you doing there? Lots of people, unknown faces looking at you with hatred. Scales. A glowing purple light. A crocodile? 

You’ll have to tell Steven about this dream when you see him. Maybe he’ll understand it more than you do. Then you realise, he’s not here. 

“Is Steven not in today?” You ask suddenly, not really caring that you’ve interrupted whatever rant Donna was on. 

“Who’s that?” she looks at you blankly and you laugh. 

“Ste-ven.” You repeat clearly, emphasising each syllable. “Steven Grant? You know, the Egypt guy. Works with me down here like, all the time.”

“I don't know who you're talking about.”

“Steven!” You shout, getting frustrated now. 

“Don't matter how many times you say it!” Donna is getting more annoyed by the second. “There is no Steven that works here.”

“Is this some sort of joke?! I know you don't like him very much but even by your standards this is cruel!” 

“Okay, you need to calm down or soon you won’t be working here either!”.

“I’ll show you, look!” You grab your mobile and open the photos app. To your horror there’s not a single one of Steven to be found. “No! Where is it?! I took one just the other day… he was wearing one of those stupid pharaoh headdress things we sell to the kids. It was right here-”

“Y/N!” Donna snaps, snatching your phone and putting it down on the desk. “I don't know want to hear any more about your imaginary friend, alright? You’re wasting my time as well as your own! So unless you wanna be looking for a new job I suggest you drop it.”

You're about to argue back, but think better of it. Arguing with Donna is like hitting your head against a brick wall. 

“You’re right, sorry..." You say sheepishly, playing along. “I just got confused. I think I might be coming down with something.” 

“It’s alright.” Donna looks at you unconvinced but accepts it anyway. “Forget about it and get back to work.”

“Yes boss.” You say and she walks away, glancing back at you suspiciously before she leaves. 

As soon as she’s gone you pick your mobile back up off the desk to message Steven, but when you search your messages all the ones from him are gone. So you head to the contacts and scroll down to ’S’. Sarah, Shaun, Simon, Stuart… where’s Steven? You scroll up, thinking maybe he’s saved under ‘G’ for Grant. Nothing.

You consider for a moment calling the police. But what would you say? ‘My friend has disappeared, but no one remembers him and I have no evidence he ever existed?’ They’d either laugh at you or lock you up. Maybe you are going crazy… 

No. Steven was real! You remember him. The sound of his laugh as he would tell you a really crap joke he'd heard. The way his eyes would light up when someone asked him a question about Egyptian history. The smell of cologne whenever he bumped into you, which was more often than you’d think. He really was quite clumsy. That was one of the things you loved about him. And one of the things you had in common. 

You decide to go find J.B. Surely he’ll must remember Steven, even if he does always called him ‘Scotty’. If all else fails, you could at least get him to check security cameras. 

But as you step out from behind the desk, you don't notice the large box on the floor and trip over it. You manage to stop yourself falling by clinging on to the desk, but you send the box flying across the room, the contents spilling out everywhere. It's filled with action figures that you sell in the gift shop. You pick one up. 

At first glance you think it’s a mummy but then you notice, it’s a man. A man dressed all in white and wearing a white cape. You take another figure out, almost the same but this one wearing a white suit. 

You dig deeper into the box. It’s full of figures. Some the same as the two you’ve already got. Some with the skull of a bird and holding a crescent moon staff. A lady with dark curly hair. A crocodile... Then you find one that makes your blood run cold. A man, wearing a reddish brown outfit and sandals. He has shoulder length dirty blonde hair, and he’s holding a glowing purple cane. 

“Harrow?” You whisper, the name coming to you out of nowhere.

An image fills your mind; Harrow stood in front of you, plunging a dagger into your stomach.

You look down and realise your clothes are stained red with blood. Your heart and mind starts to race. Something isn’t right. You need to get out of here. 

You run to the door, swing them open and crash straight into someone. You look up and to your surprise see a tall hippopotamus stood smiling wildly down at you. 

You freeze as the two of you stare at each other for a moment. The hippo raises its hand in a waving gesture. 

“Hi!” A female voice. She sounds friendly enough.

“Uh… h-hi?” you stutter, trying to remain calm. 

“You're not screaming.” She says. You're unsure if this is a statement or a question. 

“Am I supposed to be..?”

“No, not at all. I’m just used to people screaming when they first see me. To be fair death can be quite traumatic as it is so I suppose to then come face to face with, well, me… must be quite startling.” She laughs. “You're handling this amazingly. Well done you.”

“Death?” You ask and her face drops.

“You didn’t know?” She says and you shake your head. 

“I thought it was just a bad dream.”

“Oh dear. I am very sorry, but I am afraid you are quite dead. Oh hang on! I have a thing I’m supposed to read…” She pulls a scroll out from her robe and unravels it before beginning to read. “Welcome gentle traveller to the realm of the Duat. I am Tawaret, goddess of women and children and I am here to guide you through your journey to the afterlife.”

“Wait wait wait, if I’m dead then why am I at the museum? Shouldn’t I be, like, in heaven or something?”

“Because the Duat’s true nature is impossible for the human mind to comprehend, you may perceive this realm as something more easily recognisable to you. Was this place special to you?”

You think back through all the happy memories you have here, in this room laughing with Steven.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” You say with a smile. “But hang on, Donna was here. My boss. She was here earlier having a go at me as usual. How is that possible? Is she dead too?” 

“This place can appear as real as you want it to. Whatever would normally be here will be here, that includes people. But rest assured, she is very much still alive.”

“Then where’s Steven? He was always here with me, but Donna didn’t even know who he was!”

“Steven? Steven Grant?” She asks.

“You know him?” 

“I do. Goodness, how do I explain this?” She says, mostly to herself. “Steven Grant isn’t real.”

“Of course he is!”

“No dear, uh…” she pauses, thinking over her words. “Do you know a Marc Spector?” 

“Kind of. Not very well, but we’ve met.”

“Right! So… Steven is Marc.”

“I don't understand.” 

“Marc created Steven when he was young to help him escape the trauma he was going through. He may not have even realised that that’s what he did, but whenever life got too much for Marc he would become Steven instead.”

“No hang on, Steven told me that this Marc lives inside him. Are you saying it’s the other way around?” 

“Steven really believed he was who he was. He had no idea the truth.” She watches you for a moment. Watches as your brain ticks over everything and sadly the truth sets in. “I think deep down, somewhere, subconsciously a part of you knew. That’s why he’s not here. The Duat picked up on it.”

She was right. Ever since that night when Marc first spoke to you, a small part of you had wondered. Harrow had tried to tell you, in his own manipulative way. You just didn’t want to believe it; Steven wasn’t real. 

“I wish he was here.” You say sadly. Taweret puts a caring hand on your shoulder. 

“I know dear, this is a lot to take in. But as I said, you are handling this exceedingly well.” She smiles at you, holding out her hand. “Come, let me show you around.”

— — — — 

You follow Tawaret through the doors and to your surprise you're no longer in the museum. Instead you find yourself on a magnificent wooden boat sailing through sand.

“Where are we going?” You ask, staring out at the the amazing blend of purple, blue and gold that makes up the sky. It would take your breath away, if you weren’t already dead. 

“Hopefully to the Field of Reeds.”

“Hopefully?” 

“Yes, there’s just something I have to do…” she places her hand on your chest and pushes, reaching inside you and when she pulls her hand back out she’s holding your heart. You watch in shock as she away from you and places the heart on a scale. She takes a feather and places it on the other side of the scale. The scales swing a few times before settling in a balanced position. 

“Oh goody.” Taweret smiles. “I would have hated to have to throw you overboard.” 

“Excuse me what?”

“If they scales hadn’t balanced, you would not be permitted entry to the Field of Reeds. The dead would have dragged you down into the Duat where you would have remained forever frozen in sand.” She explains and you stare at her in horror. “But the scales are balanced, so no need to dwell on that.” 

You walk to the edge of the boat and look over at the sand below you. You can just about make out the shapes of human figures half buried in the sands, hands desperately reaching for something to grab onto. It sends a shiver down your spine. Taweret moves to stand beside you. 

“All these people had unbalanced scales?” You ask sadly.

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Do the scales ever get it wrong?” 

“That’s not possible.” Taweret says looking at you, she notices you look troubled. “Are you alright?”

“When Harrow judged me with Ammit’s scales, they were unbalanced.”

“Ammit is wrong. She judges based on things that might happen, what someone might do. We judge on what you have done." She turns to face you completely, putting her hands on your shoulder so you have to face her. She looks you in the face. "Believe me when I say, you are a good person Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“Thank you.” You say with teary eyes as the boat continues its journey. 

— — — — 

Eventually you arrive at the most beautiful place you have ever seen.

“Welcome to the Field of Reeds.” 

It’s indescribable. An endless view of golden warmth. Peace like you’ve never felt before. 

“It’s… I don't have the words…” 

“Enjoy it. You belong here.” 

You smile up at her. 

The peace doesn’t last long however, when suddenly you hear a familiar voice calling from a distance behind you. 

“Hey! Hey, hippo lady! You gotta take me back!”

You turn to where the voice is coming from. 

“Not this again.” Taweret sighs.

“Marc?!” You interrupt as you realise who is running toward you. He stops when he notices you. 

“Y/N? What- what are you doing here?” 

“Same as you.” You respond bluntly. “Harrow killed me.”

A range of emotions flash across Marc’s face. Anger and sadness being the mains ones. 

“I’m sorry.” He says simply, before turning his attention back to the hippopotamus next to you. 

“There’s nothing I can do Marc.” Taweret says before he can even ask. “Steven is gone.”

“What?” You look between Taweret and Marc in a panic, but Marc turns away from you. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“The Duat has him.” Taweret explains. “When Marc died, the Duat split him and Steven into their own separate bodies in order to fairly judge their lives.”

“So Steven is one of those bodies in the sand?” You say in horror and she nods. “We can go back for him though? Right?!”

“It doesn’t work like that. If you leave here you can’t return.” She looks at Marc. “Please, enjoy your peace.”

Marc turns around angrily. 

“Peace?! There is no peace without Steven!”

“You don’t need him anymore Marc. You created Steven when you needed to cope with the worst parts of your life, but that’s over now.” She says, her voice gentle.

“So I get to go on to eternal peace, and he just…” Marc pauses. “Stays lost in the sand forever?”

A tear escapes down your cheek at the thought of Steven being one of those desperate figures you saw in the sand on the way here. Even though you now understand that Steven was only ever a personality created by Marc, he still felt real to you. You only really knew Steven. Your goofy, lovable, Egypt obsessed friend. 

“No.” Marc says suddenly. “I’m not good with that.” 

“Wait!” Taweret calls as Marc begins to walk off. “Think about this!” 

You watch him for a moment before turning to Taweret. She shakes her head at you, warning you. But you ignore her and run to catch up with him.

“What are you gonna do?” You ask. 

“I’m gonna get Steven back.” 

“Then I’m coming too.”

“Are you sure?” He stops and turns to you. It’s still so weird seeing Steven’s face but hearing Marc’s voice. “I can’t guarantee this will go well.” 

“He’d do it for it me.” You say and Marc nods.

The world around you starts to swirl. The golden sky turns dark and the reeds change to sand. Just ahead of you you spot him. Steven. Now one of the figures stuck in the sand. The two of you run over to him. His frozen hand is reaching out in front of him, a look of pain on his face. Marc crouches in front of him. 

“Steven. Looking pretty rough man.” He cries. “I don't know if you can hear me… From the moment you arrived, way back then, we were so young… You saved me. I survived because I knew I wasn’t alone. You were always there, alive, full of hope. I tried to protect that, and I failed. I couldn’t protect you.”

You feel a strange sensation in your feet and look down to see they’ve started to turn to ice, like Steven. Then you notice Marc’s hands have also started to change. 

“You didn’t abandon me.” He looks down at his frozen hand. “You didn’t abandon me. And although that field back there was looking pretty good, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna abandon you.” 

He tried to reach his hand up to hold Steven’s but his arm goes stiff. He looks at you and nods his head to gesture for you to come over. You crouch down beside him, looking into Steven’s terrified eyes.

“Hey Stevo. It’s Y/N. You know, Marc is right. You would never abandon the people you care about. How many times you stayed later than you needed to at work, just so I didn’t have to do inventory on my own.” You laugh as tears stream down your cheeks. “And I know you wouldn’t have left me with Harrow unless you had no choice. Because you are the best person I’ve ever met. You don't believe it, but you are. I should have told you that when we were alive. I should have told you how much you mean to me.” The feeling of your body quickly changing to ice spreading up your legs and arms. You manage to lift your hand to hold Steven’s.

Your body has completely changed now, only your head remains. You look at Marc. He reaches his hand up and places it over yours and Steven’s.

“You are the only real superpower I ever had.” He says to Steven as the ice takes over, freezing his head completely. 

You feel it creeping up the sides of your face. You fix your eyes on Steven and manage to whisper three little words as the last part of you becomes frozen in the sand.

“I love you.” 

— — — — 

The worst thing about being frozen in the Duat wasn’t actually the being frozen, but rather the fact that you were conscious the whole time. Forced to stare into the frozen eyes of the man you love, but unable to move or speak to him. 

All concept of time goes out the window. You have no idea how long you’ve been stuck like this, when suddenly you're aware of a rumbling sound and bright light shining to the side of you. As the light hits the side of your face its like warmth is being restored to your body. The ice melts away and you take a deep breath as life is restored to your body. 

You look over to see the giant ornate gates have opened, light pouring through them. You turn back to look at Steven, the ice is starting to melt from him.

“Steven…” you whisper and he looks at you, taking a big breath of air into his thawed body. 

“Y/N…” he smiles and hugs you before turning to a now unfrozen Marc. “Marc!” 

“Steven!” He says happily.

“You came back? What the hell’s wrong with you?!” Steven says, smiling as he helps Marc stand.

“Well I did a whole little speech there.” 

“It wasn’t that little.” Steven laughs, pulling Marc in for a hug. He turns to you, holding out his hand to help you stand. “I heard yours too.”

“I meant every word.” You say sincerely, looking into his eyes and he smiles as he gently places a hand on your cheek. 

“I love you too.” He whispers.

“Uh, guys.” Marc says from beside you. “As lovely as this moment is… we have a problem.”

You both turn to see what Marc is looking at. A giant sandstorm wave heading straight towards you. 

“Oh bollocks!” Steven shouts. “Come on, lets go!”

The three of you start to run, Marc struggling as his leg seems to be injured. Steven hooks one of Marc’s arms over his shoulder and you do the same on the other side.

“I’m slowing us down, just go!” Marc shouts.

“We’re not leaving you!” You reply, almost dragging him now. 

“Coming through!” You hear and turn around to see Taweret on her ship sailing towards you. “Osiris you old softie!” She calls as she crashes through the wave, slowing it down to give you time. “Now run!!” She shouts. 

“Hippo!!” Steven shouts, waving his hands in the air before Marc grabs him and pulls you all towards the gates. You run with all the strength you can muster and finally make it through the gates. 

— — — — 

“Where am I?” You ask aloud, glancing at the bright white nothingness around you. “Steven? Marc? Anyone?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” A voice calls from everywhere at once.

“Hello?” You respond. 

“I am Osiris, god of the underworld.”

Part Ten

Taglist :  @sleepylunarwolf / @ahookedheroespureheart / @sleepyamaya / @spicydonut25 / @kult6 / @uncle-eggy / @malaanii/ @toracainz / @pinkiestwinkie / @galacticstxrdust / @mateihavenoidea / @xmariakx / @oscarissac2099 / @whycantwebefriendz / @parkeepingparker

(if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

[etirabys]

alright, I'm going to make a post detailing things I liked about my wedding because I think it will help my long term psychological health about it or something

the flowers were lovely, I liked the palette we gave our florist and she did a nice job. I've been fingering one of the leftover roses on and off for a day and slowly shredding it

when all the flowers dry up I think I'll try making rosewater

we chose alcohol we liked, and we have a lot left over, meaning we're set to host spontaneous parties and such

my boyfriend told me that while my hair dress and makeup made me look quite unlike my usual self, I looked very bridenappable

we set aside 5-10m for our photographer to take photos of us with our other partners, which was nice

my parents were happy!!! oh my gosh they were so happy. I managed to not ruin it for them out of revenge for making me do it which was a feat of heroism and also benzodiazepines. I have ancient brain grooves of punishing them for making me do hateful things by trying to make them just as miserable, and the temptation was immense, but I largely did not do it and I have a bunch of photos of them smiling and dancing

I don't have photos from our main photographer yet but @drethelin sent me some of his and they look great. I didn't expect to be this into the photos but I'm so psyched to have the rest. Will probably post some when I get them

the fancy cake we got had fondant that I liked. I had gotten small heart shaped samples of the fondant before and I had fully expected to enjoy eating a cake covered in it. And I did. It was like marshmallow with more conviction.

my two favorite college friends crashed at my place over the weekend and it was great catching up with them. they got along really well with my other friends and partners. just going on and on about French zoning policy

I look eh in hanbok but the giant looks beautiful in hanbok. He prefers hanbok to a Western suit and frankly looks more natural that way.

the DJ did a great job! Originally we planned for "maybe a little bit of dancing" (I looked at the guest spreadsheet and guessed maybe 7 people would be willing to dance, tops) but we got like 20 people in on it.

the afterparty I put together last minute was the most enjoyable part of the day. I was pretty dead (I'd gotten up at 7:30am to get hair done) but it was nice to be my normal self, not constrained by relatives. I occasionally went around rooms, noted what conversations were going on, and matchmade by fetching someone who I thought would especially enjoy that conversation

the giant and I didn't have the usual "we'll be able to call ourselves husband and wife" motivation since we got legally married years ago, so we invented "wife plus" and "platinum husband" to describe some imaginary next level of marriage we are on.

I was forced to learn how to iron to get the hanbok presentable, and now I feel like a more powerful human being

my relatives gave me money as a wedding gift. but my dad drummed it into me that they expect it back when their kids get married and I go to their weddings. and that it would be quite inappropriate if I failed to do this. I ventured tentatively that this would all be simplified if we simply did not give each other money gifts and he was so offended at my attack on tradition & decency that I hastily backtracked. but in theory I still win because of inflation? because it's an interest free loan. also their kids might not get married. or invite me

[thewordswewrite]

In the Spirit of Helping

Pairing | Anthony Lockwood x Lucy Carlyle

Summary | Lucy has been alone most of her life, having found solace in a single friend long lost she grapples with being taken care of again. She must learn how to hold on and be held.

Or five times Lockwood looks out for Lucy and one time she looks out for him.

Warnings | mentions of suicide, canon typical violence

W/C | 9.6k

A/N | I’ve loved Lockwood and Co. since middle school (I’m in college now) and I even have my first book signed by the author so this is a long time coming. The show really captured the books and I hate Netflix for canceling it so I decided to give us a little more than we have. -smoe<33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link 

One.

It’d been a tough case. Child Type-Twos were always difficult for them but Lucy tended to take it the hardest. Her listening was sensitive and her heart just a tad too big for the job.

While the team had been fighting off ghosts, Lucy’s senses had been overwhelmed by the cries of children. She almost couldn’t hear the boys calling her name over the cacophony of noise. Her own voice had soon joined the begging, hot tears streaming down her face to accompany the desperation. The memory of hands grabbing at her, holding her down; she just wanted it to stop , stop–

“Stop!” She yelled, thrashing around at imaginary hands. “Please leave us alone!”

Muffled cries of, “Lucy!” rang out from her left but she’d already dropped to the ground, holding her head in her hands.

Hands tugged at her shoulders, real ones this time, and she panicked. “Get off me!” She lashed out and the smooth metal of her ring caught Lockwood’s cheekbone, splitting it.

Lockwood took a second to compose himself before he approached her again, hands out and placating as if she were a wounded animal. 

“Lucy, it’s alright,” She noticed suddenly that she could hear the comforting lilt of his voice with no interference “George got the source. They’re gone.”

The ghosts had all been tied to the same source: a stuffed bear stored under the floorboards. Lucy threw up while Lockwood held her hair and George called DEPRAC to come to retrieve the source as well as arrest their employer. Lucy couldn’t help but stare at Lockwood as they rode home, the gash on his face tidied up by a medic but there all the same.

Her eyes bore into his–guilt and anger rotting her insides but incapable of feeling it. She couldn’t feel much of anything on the ride home, just a vague sense of what she did and what had happened. She was numb and it was only when Lockwood had finally broken their eye contact that she registered they were back at Portland Row. Languidly, she exited the vehicle, her rapier loose in her hand and a blank expression on her tear-stained face.

Lucy found herself sandwiched between two boys, George in front, keying open the door, and Lockwood behind her, his hand hovering over the small of her back. Her things fell unceremoniously to the ground the moment she stepped in the door and George jumped.

“Christ, Lucy, you could at least–”

“I’m going to sleep,” she announced and sidestepped an indignant-looking George.

“Lucy, how about we all have a cuppa and–” Lockwood didn’t bother to finish his sentence as Lucy was already up the first flight of stairs and working on the next by the time he managed the first half.

Lucy’s legs felt like iron, her body forcing its way to her room through the difficulty. She’d lost control again. She saw the way the boys looked at her: George and his sideways glances, Lockwood with a pity that gripped her heart and tugged every time she so much as frowned. How could she not though? Every day they experienced more than any person should in a lifetime and they were only children, no matter what Lockwood insisted.

More than anything Lucy was angry . Angry at her mother for pushing her into this line of work, angry at DEPRAC for letting kids do this job, and angry at Fitts and Rotwell for profiting off the backs of dead agents. Her hands clenched as she made her way to the bathroom overwhelmed with how dirty she felt. The eyes that stared back at her in the mirror were as dull as her mousy brown hair and the freckles that scattered her cheeks and nose were muddled by smears of mud from her fall. Tear streaks were running down her face as she scrubbed at them furiously, the too-cold water making her feel raw. Grey water swirled down the drain, taking the dirt and magnesium dust with it. 

Lucy noticed the hair on her arms had been singed as she removed her dirtied clothes similarly littered with burns and tears. The sensible blacks and blues of her wardrobe left much to be desired, George being the only one to stray into yellows and oranges but paying for it whenever he came out on jobs and ruined his clothes. The steam of the shower began filling up the small room, giving Lucy a reprieve from her reflection as the mirror fogged up and she stepped inside the scalding water.

As she scrubbed her body and massaged her scalp, Lucy felt the anger and sadness slip away from her, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Tears mixed with the spray of shower as Lucy silently let out the day. She was just wrapping a towel around herself when a knock echoed from outside the door.

“Luce?” It was Lockwood. “Lucy?”

Heaving a breath, Lucy wrapped her towel tighter and exited the bathroom just as Lockwood climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. Lockwood was now staring up at her, surprise coloring his face and a blush starting to burn his cheeks. Lucy didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed around Lockwood like she always seemed to be, instead staring down at his red-tinged face.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a step back down the stairs.

It took a second for her to respond, deciding whether to lie or voice a truth she hadn't dared to think on. “No.”

“Wha-” Lockwood blubbered, not expecting her answer and bounded up the last three steps to her room and walked over to where she stood. “Luce, what’s going on with you?”

“Honestly, Lockwood,” Lucy began, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m tired.”

Lockwood grinned, a look of relief flooding his face as he spoke, “Well, a good night’s sleep-”

“No, Lockwood!” She turned around exasperated. “I’m tired of being an agent, I’m tired of risking my life, I’m tired of being tired!”

When Lucy turned back to see the stunned boy behind, her she immediately wished she’d kept her mouth closed. His entire demeanor shifted, eyes not quite meeting hers and Lucy wanted to take everything back.

“Lockwood…” Her mind flashed to him telling her, “everything ends and everyone leaves.”

Lockwood gave her a rueful smile, his arms flailing helplessly at his sides, “I wish you didn't have to do this either. And you don’t but I’ll be here for you…George too–the both of us–if you decide to stay.” 

Lucy was suddenly all too aware that she was still only in a towel when she felt herself fluster at his attempted cover-up. “It was just a long night, I didn’t mean it. I’m not going anywhere”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, not looking at each other but she didn’t think Lockwood was convinced by her words. Lucy looked to the skull, its swirling green face taunting her as she wracked her mind for a way to tell Lockwood how much he meant to her when a yawn tore its way up her throat, breaking the moment. “You’re tired, I’ll let you go to bed.”

“Anthony…” She pleaded, not knowing what she would say if he stopped and he nearly did before he must have thought better of it.

“I want you to know, you mean a lot to us and we’re always going to be here for you,” He seemed put off by his own admission but added on assuredly, “I would be sorry to see you go.” 

Lucy wasn’t sure what she was feeling as she watched Lockwood walk down the stairs. She knew the boys meant something to her, they were all she had left; her mother never meant much to her, and Norrie ghost-locked back north was likely never to wake up. They were all she had and by some strange feat, that was enough.

Two.

Lucy’s eyes snapped open, her body stiff and cold as she lay staring up at the dark ceiling of her attic room. There was a quick moment where she felt the echo of being trapped in ghost-lock but when she realized she was aware of her surroundings, Lucy’s stomach dropped. For many, nightmares were the worst of it, but for her , as the dreams ended the terror of real life began. At least in her dreams, she could do more than just watch.

Her breathing began to quicken uncontrollably. Realistically, she knew none of what was happening was real but the panic clawing its way through her chest and into her lungs didn’t give much leeway toward logic. Lucy felt herself break into a cold sweat as a shadow moved at the edge of her vision. Ghosts glowed, she saw them every day; they didn’t exist as the void she was experiencing, hell even shades were different than this. Lucy felt a scream bubbling in her throat, waiting to be let out but she was locked still. Her body was not her own, a mind inside an unwilling vessel that was intent on destroying her.

Her muscles ached as she strained against them, trying to force any part of herself to move or latch onto reality, her anchor being Lockwood's necklace but to no avail. Quicker and quicker she was losing oxygen to her heaving, her hands begging to grasp at the invisible noose around her neck that was tightening by the second. She lay there, choking on the air that she was able to inhale into her burning lungs when suddenly, her finger twitched. Another and then another came to until her body shot up out of the bed and a scream found its way out of the lump in her throat.

Once again her vision was clear and the shadow was gone but the fear that had only just consumed her still lingered in the air, electric, leaving her paranoid. Tears pricked at Lucy’s eyes, not out of fright but frustration; she hadn’t slept well in weeks and she was growing weary of the constant fatigue she lived with. Between the nighttime cases and overall lack of sleep, she was at her wit's end.

Lucy pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes, willing the tears to stop until she could swing her legs from under her blanket and take the first tentative step out of bed. The dusty hardwood was cold on her bare feet and creaked quietly under her. She didn’t like to walk around at night, knowing that the noise could be heard throughout the house but given that she’d already been screaming, if anyone was disturbed they’d already be awake. She glanced at the dull green glow of the skull on her window ledge and grimaced.

Grabbing her sweater from where it sat in her laundry basket, Lucy pulled it over her head, not bothering to worry about the two-day-old tea stain that marred the front. It was her favorite sweater, often smelling familiarly like lavender and anyway, she had no one to impress at three in the morning. Her hand found the reassuring iron of her doorknob and cursed the house for being so cold; the older construction did not lend much insulation for the chilly weather that plagued London almost year round. For good measure, she hurriedly grabbed the knitted throw blanket George’s mom made off of her bed and wrapped that around herself as well.

She began to descend the stairs, being as quiet as possible, her hand gripped the railing and supported her as she skipped the loose stair that always creaked when anyone stepped on it. The landing was home to three doors, two inhabited and, she could only hope, undisturbed . Her eyes slid past George’s but she lingered on his despite her resolve not to. Shaking her head, Lucy continued down the second flight until she reached the ground floor.

Just as she was going to enter the kitchen, the sound of the stove lighting stopped her. Had she woken one of them? Her heart rate picked up and she couldn't decide who she’d rather have awoken. 

With a deep breath, Lucy pushed open the door and saw the clear outline of Lockwood reaching to grab a mug from the cabinet. She tip-toed in but accidentally knocked into a chair, startling the boy. 

“Oh, Lucy , it's you,” Lockwood smiled, a defensive hand still clutched to his chest.

 “What are you doing awake?” She asked but her voice was unprepared and it came out strained. She knew he needed the sleep just as much as her.

“You know, had to use the bathroom then decided on some tea.” He shrugged, gesturing to the kettle on the stove, mug in hand.

Lucy squinted her eyes in suspicion, “That’s my mug.”

Lockwood’s gaze flitted to the object he was holding and scoffed. “Well, it's hardly yours. Everyone shares these!”

Despite the feeling in her gut, he wasn’t lying; Everyone did share the mugs but that one in particular was different. That mug was the one she had bought specifically for herself after she discovered she was two gulps deep into George’s toothbrush cup. After that, she was deadly clear to never touch it, and to her knowledge they never did. Lucy felt a flare of annoyance, they knew that was her mug and here Lockwood was using it as if it was his, as if–

Her stomach dropped when she finally remembered why she was down here in the first place. That was her mug.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” Lucy sighed.

Lockwood’s head dropped, “Looks like you caught me.” He set down the mug. “What was it this time?” 

“Nothing specific, just shadows.” Lucy rubbed her arm trying to comfort herself and took a seat at the table. “Doesn't help when your brain won't listen to you. I know it’s not real but I can’t stop it.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled in remorse.

Lucy shook her head and stood, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. “Nothing to be done.” She moved around the boy, blindingly aware of their height difference when she had to strain to reach another mug. One for him this time. “What are you having?” She opened the tea drawer and pulled out an Earl Gray for herself.

“Just black is fine,” He said from where they kept the biscuits.

They met in the middle, Lucy with two cups of steaming tea and Lockwood with the chocolate-coated biscuits they saved for special occasions. Lucy raised her eyebrow in question and Lockwood shrugged.

“Don’t tell George and there won't be a problem,” Lockwood smiled and sat down across from her.

Lucy put the cups uneasily down, sloshing a bit of hers over the edge and burning herself slightly in the process. She hissed through her teeth and stuck the afflicted finger in her mouth. “You know he’ll notice,” She warned, noticing Lockwood’s eyes caught on her mouth.

“Yeah, but that’s a problem for later.” Lockwood chuckled, eyes flitting back up to hers and shooting her a grin before snatching a biscuit from the open sleeve and grabbing his tea.

They sat there for around half an hour just talking. Lucy nearly had forgotten what led them into this position at all and a warm smile donned her lips when Lockwood walked up the extra flight to her room with her to, ‘make sure you get there safely’. Her room felt warmer and she wasn't as afraid to fall back asleep with the lingering promise that he’d be there if she needed him.

Three.

Lucy felt extravagant. Because of their recent press and subsequent jobs, she could afford a new dress that hadn’t seen the bottom of the Thames. It was red and satin and showed more skin than any outfit she’d ever owned. When she had decided on it, the woman at the boutique exclaimed, ‘ If you're going to go red you must go red’ which scared her at first but when she pulled out the matching red heels and a brand new tube of red lipstick she listened to the voice in her head that was telling her to trust this woman. Lucy thanked the other side every day that she did. 

After an appointment at the salon, she snuck up to her room past a cooking George and oblivious Lockwood to finish getting ready for the party. Normally she wouldn’t get so worked up over some company fluff but this one felt different. Before, no one bothered a second glance at her, except maybe Quill, but tonight, after a freshly printed front page issue interview about her abilities, she intended to make a good impression.

Lockwood had pushed her to do the interview despite her protests, ‘ Think about the publicity, Lucy! What it could do for the company, Lucy!’ and so she agreed because Lockwood looked so hopeful, so proud . How could she say no? So now here she was, slipping on a black trench and tying a blue scarf around her freshly curled hair like a woman grown instead of one just barely leaving her childhood all the while trying to ignore the snide comments of a disembodied skull that lived in her room.

With one last look to make sure nothing would be ruined between her room and the party, she ventured downstairs. The boys were standing by the door looking impatient and she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s be off then,” She tried to sound nonchalant but she knew they would open their big stupid mouths and ruin this for her.

“Is that you, Luce?” George sputtered, sounding on the edge of hysterics. She couldn’t look at Lockwood so she walked right past them and out the door to the taxi. As she passed, she could see George shrug and take a deep breath.

Of course, the boys were both dressed in basic black suits and to them, this was nothing new but tonight was undiscovered territory for her. She still refused to look at Lockwood throughout the ride and she didn’t know if the silence was a good thing or if the ice slowly forming over her heart was a bad sign.

It wasn’t long before they reached Fitts and were exiting the taxi. Her heart thundered in her chest as they got closer to the door because that meant she couldn’t hide behind the shapelessness of her coat. Lucy had always been conscious of her body, having grown up with six sisters, it was hard not to compare. The woman at the boutique had said she looked beautiful and she trusted her before but now she was starting to think the clerk just wanted to make a sale. Her heart was in her throat when she finally took off her scarf and unbuttoned her jacket to reveal the full effect of her outfit. 

“Christ, Lucy, you look like a proper girl!” George exclaimed and Lock still hadn’t said anything .

She felt like she was on display for the world and all she wanted to do was catch the eye of the tall boy standing at her side. Lucy took a chance and looked at Lockwood. To her surprise, his gaze wasn’t on her but instead on the familiar necklace that lived around her neck. As if caught, Lockwood's ears went pink and he finally met her eyes.

“You look amazing, Lucy,” And he said it with so much sincerity both in his voice and in his eyes that she could do nothing more than believe him.

Her voice was small when she found it. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He said as if it was mad she expected any other answer.

She saw George look between them and shake his head. “I’m going to find the food.”

“I think I’m going to go to the loo,” Lucy’s smile was tight and Lockwood just nodded.

She looked around as she walked through the sea of people, noting many sets of eyes on her, and began to shrink in on herself. Quill’s eyes alone were easy enough to avoid but it seemed as if everyone was looking at her. Lucy quickened her pace, remembering the path she used last time they’d been at Fitts but an artful step right into it stopped her in her tracks.

“I believe we haven’t met. I’m Jonathan Davies, and you are Lucy Carlyle of Lockwood and Co.” The man held out his hand and in good taste, Lucy could not refuse.

“Charmed, but I apologize. I don’t believe I’ve heard of you, Mr. Davies?” Lucy asked as more of a question than anything else. It was Lockwood after all that kept up with this kind of thing.

“Please, call me John. But I don’t suppose you would have. I’m a part of the Fitts research team,” He looked it too, old and pale; probably from being cooped up in the library. Lucy made a mental note to apologize to George later for the thought. His smile was too gummy and his breath smelled of champagne. She wanted to leave . “And might I say you look gorgeous tonight, nearly a woman you are!” The comment made her smile waver.

“Not too near, though. Still a good few years away,” Lucy tried to joke but the comedy was lost in her discomfort.

“Oh, don't be like that!” The man bellowed. “I’m just trying to give you a compliment. You’re maturing and it looks good on you. What’s so wrong with pointing it out?” Mr. Davies bellowed and he was getting closer.

Lucy shivered and began looking for outs; her adrenaline strung her out like she was on a case and her mind was switching to fight-or-flight. Lucy did not tend to lean towards flight. She nearly had the thought to hit the man when an arm looped itself through hers and she jumped.

“I believe I owe Ms. Carlyle here a dance. Isn't that right, Luce?” The arm and the voice belonged to Lockwood who held the older man’s attention while she paused to collect herself.

“Yes! He promised me my first one of the night. You understand, of course?” Lucy tried to come off as apologetic but surmised she failed by the look on Mr. Davies’ face. Lockwood nodded to the man and as they walked away, arm in arm, she inclined her head to speak lowly. “Thank you.”

“Always,” Lockwood smiled and pulled her so she was in front of him. He took her hands and at her confused glance chuckled. “I believe I owe you a dance.”

“Oh, you don't have to,” She said, nervous as he wrapped her arms around his neck and fit his hands at the curve of her waist.

Now he smirked, smart-looking just like she hated. “But I promised you your first one.”

“You are being a right arse right now, Anthony Lockwood,” She warned, feeling teased. Lucy was vulnerable around him, stripped bare and out in the open. Now more than ever in that bloody red dress.

His eyes crinkled around the edges and the smirk turned into his mega-watt grin. “And you are looking absolutely breathtaking tonight, Lucy Carlyle.”

“Oh, sod off!” Lucy exclaimed, but her cheeks warmed and suddenly she was red enough to match her outfit.

They danced for a minute or two and she took the time to look past the boy’s head and calm down. She figured he could feel her pulse from where her wrists were touching his neck, by how hard her body was trying to pump the blood back to her brain so she could maybe form a coherent thought. She was suddenly pulled from her stupor when Lockwood spoke.

“I do mean it though. You look better than every other person in this room. I didn’t even know what to say when I first saw you,” His voice was low and only for her.

And here she was, Lucy Carlyle standing in a room full of people whose eyes were all on her and she didn’t notice in the slightest. The only ones that mattered to her at that moment were Lockwood’s. His eyes, and his hands, and his necklace all on her .

Four.

“And who might you be?”

The old woman before them was quite kind looking in Lucy’s opinion, though her pale skin and white hair made her look almost like a phantasm which unsettled her–not to mention the biting tone of her words. Lucy was not fond of the older generation that remembered a time before the dead came back, their holier-than-thou attitudes at the problem they thought they should be exempt from. Lockwood on the other hand was all smiles and unwavering confidence, making him ready to take the lead as always.

“I’m Anthony Lockwood and this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle. We’re Lockwood and Co.”

The woman seemed unamused with the both of them, eyes instead searching for something behind them. “And where’s your supervisor?”

Lucy let out a small huff at the question. More than a few of their cases had been booked by clients ignorant of their status as lone agents ignoring that small detail in favor of the lower-than-average rates they needed to provide to stay in business. Lucy didn’t see why supervisors were needed at all, the bumbling adults just got in the way of their work. It’s what drove her out of her hometown and into the gangly arms of Lockwood and George in the first place.

The rain beating down on their shared umbrella was slowly beginning to drip onto Lucy’s right shoulder and she scowled, silently cursing Lockwood for not bringing his own. He was always trying to be the perfect gentleman, Lockwood, yet he always managed to fall short in some way despite his efforts. Lucy took a moment to compose herself, shutting her eyes and standing closer to Lockwood to try and get out of the rain.

Lockwood’s face fell a millimeter before he went to correct her but Lucy butted in, annoyance evident in her tone, “No supervisors ma’am, just us . You said you’ve just moved in and were feeling uneasy?”

The woman gave her another once-over and looked to be getting ready to slam the door in their faces before a man appeared behind her with a coat in his hand. “Edda, would you just let the kids in so they can get to work?” The man was soft in a way his wife wasn’t but a permanent crease had made a home between his eyebrows though it had been the only plane of his face that hadn’t seemed to possess a wrinkle before.

“These are unsupervised children you’re letting into our home.” The woman’s face twisted as her husband helped her into her coat and handed her her own umbrella before she swatted him away. “Get off me!” The coat was an ugly shade of puce that had Lucy wrinkling her nose unconsciously and wishing she’d never accepted the job.

“These agents are here to do the job we’re paying them to do. You head to the cab, I'll let them know everything they need to.” The woman pushed past Lockwood and herself, forcing them apart and out into the rain despite Lockwood thrusting his arm towards Lucy to try and keep her dry. 

The man, whose name they learned to be Morton, told them how his wife had become agitated since moving to the house, the loud bangs they heard at night, and the ice-cold temperatures that seemed to move from room to room. Morton was distraught, insisting his wife had never been like this before they moved and that she was ‘a lovely woman. Truly.’ To Lucy, it sounded like a shade or lurker giving off residual emotions from their death which was–what she supposed–Lockwood had insisted: a quick case involving nothing more than a few harmless specters lurking around the property, no need to bring George.

Lucy and Lockwood were given a quick tour by Morton who walked with a slight limp in his left knee. Lucy tried to focus on the man’s limp rather than the incessant squeak of Lockwood’s shoes every time he took a step. Lockwood insisted on having his dress shoes resoled rather than just getting a new pair even with the extra cost and Lucy had laughed at the quirk merely days prior but now she was grinding her teeth. Finally, leaving them in the living room, Morton bid goodbye and headed out to his awaiting wife while the two agents got to work.

After setting up a home base in the living room, they’d searched all around the house but produced nothing. Lockwood was unable to see the faintest glow and Lucy couldn’t even hear a whisper. It wasn’t often both of their gifts failed them, the remnants of death often wanting to be heard rather than stay quiet as they had for generations before them. It wasn’t until Lucy got to the kitchen and lingered near the door that let out to the back gardens that she heard the distant cries of a woman. She ran a tired hand through her hair, fingers pulling at the roots at the notion of searching out in the downpour.

“Lockwood?” Lucy called out, “I think the source might be outside.”

She only had a moment of hope that Lockwood would call it a night before he rounded the corner, his eyes filled with elation. “Let’s hop on then! You first.”

As she turned, Lucy couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the look on Lockwood’s face. Of course, he would have fun trudging around in the rain. As soon as Lucy stepped outside, a gust of wind whipped the hood off her head and plastered her hair to her face. Lucy’s shoe– not her rain boot– squelched in the mud under her feet. Lockwood and her rooted around the garden of the old couple’s estate, pulling back thorny rose bushes that dug into her hands and trying to listen over the hammering of rain. Lucy felt her irritation boil over from where it had been growing in her chest when she managed to slip on a slick rock and end up hands first in the mud.

“I can’t believe you put us in this situation!” Lucy yelled over the pounding rain, “Really, Lockwood, it's like you don’t care about me at all!” She felt something solid in the mud and squeezed it tight in her fist, desperate for an outlet.

She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder, trying to work on grounding herself through the object in her hand, the grooves of the metal, the familiarity. Honestly, where did he get off on making her miserable during every case? He made her feel trapped. With a deep breath, Lucy closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts, focusing instead on trying to find the source and getting out of there.

“G-get….”

Lockwood’s unintelligible voice interrupted her from behind and she huffed.

“..out”

“Out where?” She tried asking.

“Hus…band”

“Your husband? What happened with–” Lockwood’s voice interrupted again and she snapped. “ Oh , would you bloody shut up, Lockwood? All you ever do is talk!” She screamed whirling around to look at him only to see that the scene had changed.

It wasn’t raining anymore, or even night at that. Instead, the garden was blooming with life. The trellis were bountiful with pink roses and light shone through a giant willow in the corner of the property. Across from her stood a handsome-looking man much older than herself. And she was afraid.

“All I ever do is talk?” The man asked deathly slow.

Lucy was sure she had no clue who the man was but her mouth was already moving. “Yes! You keep me trapped in this house, I have no friends, and you don’t even listen to me!” She was crying now and the man, her husband , stalked towards her.

“You listen to me woman, you belong to me now. You are my property !” Dolly’s breaths were heaving out at an exceptional rate. “Do you hear me? Mine!” Her husband was gripping her arms, his face mere inches from her own.

“Let go of me!” She pleaded, “ Please !”

“Listen to me, Dolly! Dolly!”

She felt herself slipping away, air caught in her throat. Dolly was frantically scratching at her husband's arm, trying to get him to release her through any means.

“I’ll love you, I promise –”

“Lucy!”

Lucy’s eyes snapped open to see Lockwood wrenching her hand open and snatching something from her clenched fist. Her lungs flooded with life, making her cough as her knees hit the ground; she was unsure when she even stood up at all but Lockwood was immediately at her side.

“Lucy, are you alright?” His shaky voice floated through the rain.

Any previous grievances she had against Lockwood had vanished the moment she looked into his eyes. “What happened?”

“You found the source,” Lockwood opened his hand and revealed a rusted locket covered in mud. Lucy went to touch it but Lockwood jerked his hand away. “Better not.”

Her mind went back to how she’d treated him since they stepped foot on the property and she winced. “Lockwood, I’m so sorry I–”

“No! Luce, it wasn’t your fault.” Lucy was poised to retort but there was a pure and unabashed look of concern on his face and she realized it had been a while since she’d seen his megawatt smile.

“She hated him,” Lucy started, “He told her he loved her and trapped her here…she killed herself.”

Lockwood looked concerned. “I think we should head back to Portland Row.”

They finished up at the house, contacting the elderly couple to tell them that the source had been found and disposed of at DEPRAC. The cab ride home was so quiet; whether from Lucy’s embarrassment because of her treatment of Lockwood or because he was hurt by her words she was unsure. It wasn’t until they were putting their gear away that Lockwood spoke again.

“I hope you don't feel… trapped here.” Lockwood was facing away from her when he broke the silence. “Especially not by me .”

“Lockwood, no .” She rushed to his side trying to meet his eyes with her own. “No, no, no.”

He finally looked at her and his eyes were sunken in, his face as sullen as she felt. “I know it was the ghost…but you were begging me to let you go. You were pleading that I let you leave, telling me you–you loved me and that you’d do anything if I would just let you go and I–”

“I don’t feel trapped here, I promise. You mean more than anything to me,” Lucy’s heart stuttered at her slip-up. “You and George both.”

Lockwood’s eyes flicked to the necklace sitting prettily around her neck and Lucy’s hand flew to it instinctively: a loan she was still indebted to him and went to take it off, her still-cold fingers fumbling with the clasp but he stopped her, gently grabbing her wrists.

“I want you to know the necklace wasn’t–wasn’t whatever that locket was to them,” Lockwood’s hands released her, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind Lucy’s ear then trailing a path to the sapphire that sat in the middle of her chest. “My father… it was important , and I just wanted you to know you’re important to me.”

Lucy smiled, “I know.”

Five.

A shiver rippled through Lucy’s body in the London rain as the week loomed over her like the storm she walked through. Long nights with back-to-back cases–all too small to send more than one of them–had Lucy disheartened. She pulled her blue coat tighter to her body and stuffed her hands under her armpits in order to get some semblance of feeling back in them. Her tights were ripped, her hair soaked, and above all, Lucy was hungry. It took one smell of buttered croissants swept across the street by a gust of chilling wind for Lucy to cross the street and make her way into the warm cafe.

“No weapons!” The clerk shouted as soon as the bell jingled on the door, not even bothering to look at her.

Lucy’s eyes immediately welled up with tears knowing what was coming. “I-I’m sorry, can I leave it at the door?”

“Let me be more clear: no agents .” The man’s sneer was accompanied by multiple sets of cold eyes looking at her from around the room.

It was something she was unaccustomed to but common in London. Though agents were often looked at with a strange sense of gratitude and more often pity in the country, Lucy noticed it wasn’t the same in the city. People thought them unsightly: the children with sunken, pale faces who were typically only out at night mimicked the sight of the dead they were employed to rid the world of. Though somewhere in her head she could understand the adults' aversion to her, in the moment she could feel little more than resentment for the life she was sacrificing to give them the security they themselves could not provide.

Lucy chuffed on her way out, slamming the door and knocking the bell off of its hook in the process. Not bothering to wipe her face, she blinked away her tears and let them drown in the rain as she walked on towards 35 Portland Row.

It was night, and raining, and she was alone. But she was an agent, and Lucy knew how to defend herself. Therefore, in the face of her reservations, she turned down an alley she knew was faster than the main road despite the absence of street lights . She could handle a few shades and lurkers on her own.

The rain was coming down harder then; her mind had wandered to the doughnuts on the counter that sat untouched when she’d left. Lucy was so caught up in imagining the argument between her and George when she inevitably saw her jelly-filled missing from the box that she didn’t notice the man that slank from the shadows until she bumped into him. 

Lucy ducked her head in apology and attempted to skirt around the man, “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t–”  Then suddenly his hands were on her with a grip that told her this was no mistake.  Before she could utter another word, the sharp edge of a knife sucked the breath from her lungs.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” He ordered, voice low and eyes darting behind her at the lit street.

Lucy tried to seem unwavering, after all, it wasn’t the first time she was at the wrong end of a blade and likely not the last. “I haven’t got anything,” Her voice shook and she silently cursed herself.

“How bout’ I take a look for myself?” He hummed, his hands skimming over her body, drifting across her waist, going lower, lower…

“ Please! Help– ” Lucy yelled but his hand was quick to cover her mouth and let the knife start to dig into her side. She thrashed around, trying to free herself from his grasp while screaming into his gloved hand in any attempt to get help. 

It wasn’t until she managed to land a well-placed elbow that Lucy was able to escape his grip. “You bitch .” The man sagged over but as Lucy moved to run, his hand wrapped around her jacket and a knife planted itself in her stomach.

She almost didn’t register the pain at first until the man wretched out the blade. The feel of her blood oozing from the wound was stark in contrast to the chilling rain and she shivered. Lucy’s hand moved to the wound and logically she knew she was going into shock; George warned them about it enough should they ever get injured on a case but now she couldn’t think back to even a second ago. 

The man looked from her wound to her eyes and sneered. Step by step he retreated deeper into the alley while Lucy stumbled out into the road, clutching her side. Her breathing was ragged as she frantically searched for anyone to help her though she knew the streets were clear because of the rain. Lucy knew she shouldn’t have looked but when she caught a glimpse of blood she couldn't help it. She felt close to hysterics; the blood wouldn’t stop and her teeth were chattering, from the rain or something else she didn’t know. She needed to get to a shop, somewhere that had people . Lucy’s vision was darkening around the edges as she stumbled towards the yellow lights of a restaurant two buildings over. She just needed to get there.

She needed to…she needed…she

- - -

It was the beeping that woke her, but the weight in her hand that made her open her eyes. The lights were blinding as Lucy struggled to open her eyes and the ringing in her ears made it hard to focus on the muffled arguing around her. She heard one final shout and the sound of a door closing before she attempted to move. A gasp tore itself from her lips when she tried to sit up. Her body ached and her mouth was dry but all she could do to ground herself was focus on the worried voice needling her brain.

“Luce? Can you hear me? Luc–” 

Lucy cut off the voice with her own raspy words, “Would you shut up?”

Her eyes finally adjusted to the lights and she saw the lanky outline of Lockwood standing at her side. Any other time she was woken up to the sight of him, Lucy was more than often annoyed but somehow, with the beeping of machines accompanied by the smell of alcohol in the air, he was a welcome comfort.

“Lockwood,” She breathed out a relieved sigh, studying his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes sullen, almost bruised looking, and his skin somehow more pale than normal. “What happened?”

“Let me find a doctor.” His hand found hers again, only giving it a light squeeze before leaving the room in his search. 

Lucy took the time to look around the room and spotted a vase full of orange and yellow flowers adorning the bedside table as well as a lone strawberry frosted doughnut left in a box meant to hold a half dozen. Based on that alone, she knew both George and his mother had visited at some point but as she looked towards where Lockwood had been it was as if he’d never left at all. His jacket was crumpled on a chair in the corner, with his tie folded neatly atop it and, given his appearance earlier, she could only assume he’d slept there.

Finally, she decided to give attention to the dull ache in her stomach and lift the blanket covering her lower half. Between the wires and tubes hooked up to her from all directions and having to wrestle with the gown they stuck her in, the endeavor was all the more difficult than necessary. When Lucy finally got a look at her bandage-covered abdomen she felt ill.

Her stewing was interrupted when a man entered the room, Lockwood hot on his heels. “Hello, Ms. Carlyle. I’m Dr. Stroud, I’ve been your physician since Monday night and–”

“Wait, what day is it?” Lucy coughed and Lockwood was quick to offer her a water which she gladly took.

“It’s Wednesday morning, Luce,” Lockwood supplied in a small voice. His eyes wouldn’t quite meet hers and she grew nervous. The angry blinking of the clock on the bedside table read 4:23 a.m. and she suddenly understood Lockwood’s state of disarray.

The beeping which she’d previously grown accustomed to had begun to quicken and she felt a sweat break out. “How bad was it?”

“Based on our limited knowledge Ms. Carlyle, we suspect it was a robbery.” Lucy nodded along, trying to grasp at the last thing she remembered. Shadows of a dark alleyway and the flash of a knife swirled in her mind but when she tried to imagine his eyes her head began to hurt.

“I remember a man and a knife…it was raining?” Lockwood’s hand found its way into hers once again and his thumb stroked the back of her hand soothingly. She motioned for the doctor to go on and kept her grip on Lockwood’s hand firm.

“You suffered a deep puncture that grazed the top of your liver and you lost a lot of blood. Luckily you weren’t out there too long before someone found you and called an ambulance.” The thought of herself bleeding out in the street forced Lucy to shut her eyes. “We’d like to keep you the rest of the week to monitor but considering you’re up and talking, I’ll leave you to sleep.”

Dr. Stroud left the room with a tight smile and Lucy looked at Lockwood. She’d been there for days unconscious, and Lockwood had been there at her side.

“How is–”

“You were… gone, Luce. You were white and cold and– you put me as your emergency contact ?!” He was incredulous, his grip tightening almost uncomfortably as tears welled in his eyes.

“Who else if not you?” She felt a lump rising in her throat. “My mother didn’t show last time and I’m not close to my sisters. You and George are all I have, you’re…” Lucy trailed off not sure what she wanted to say but knew it was too soon.

“Lucy, when I got that call…George and I rushed to meet you at the hospital. For days I’ve sat here and all I could think about was what if you hadn’t ended up in the road? What if you were in the alley and no one found you? What if–” Tears fell from his eyes and his voice failed him.

“What if I never came to London? What if I had gotten accepted to Fittes or Rotwell? But that’s not what happened. I’m here.” Lockwood brought her hand to his lips and all Lucy could do was watch. She, all at once, realized that it wasn't just her, wasn’t just Lucy who felt like the boy in front of her was her whole world, her whole future.

“You’re the one in the hospital bed, I should be comforting you ,” Lockwood laughed shakily and took a deep breath. “Luce, I need you to know that, no matter how far in the future, no matter the distance, I’ll always be there for you. You’re my family now…if, if you want.” Lockwood’s smile was unsure, hope gleaming in eyes.

Lucy sniffled, her emotions finally having caught up to her and smiled back, “ We’re family .”

Plus One.

The case had been cursed from the start. The day started out boiling hot, and Lucy’s usually protective extra layers were stuck to her skin by sweat but now, four hours into the case, a cold front blew in and a massive wind storm had been shaking the house all night. They were constantly unsure if the noises were ghosts or the storm and trying to use her listening had been all but useless.

They had been hired by the city to clear out a long-time vacant house, previously belonging to the lone heir before he mysteriously disappeared. It was uncertain if there were any ghosts on the property and the city wanted to sell so, there they were. She heaved the backpack up higher on her shoulder and a voice piped up.

“Watch it there, you drop me and I’ll kill all three of you.” The glow of the skull brightened on the walls around her. She opted to ignore it and kept on walking through the house.

“Alright guys, let's do one more sweep of this floor and I suppose we can call it a night.” Lockwood scratched the back of his head and George stifled a yawn.

“Lockwood, there’s been nothing the whole case and besides the disappearance, George couldn’t scrounge up anything about anything that would lead to a haunting,” Lucy was aching for a shower and she was tired of carrying around the skull all night because George insisted they bring it but declined to carry it because, ‘ only you can hear it, Luce. It would be a waste for me to carry it. ’ “Let’s just go home.”

“We will…just after we check the ground floor one more time, I–I have a feeling something is wrong.” He seemed more sullen than usual but Lucy attributed that to a boring case and long night.

“Whatever you say. I’m going to check the kitchen.” George walked off without a second thought and she let out a sharp laugh under her breath at the irony.

Lucy headed out, leaving a distant Lockwood in the living room and opted to traverse the dining room once again. The room sported a crystal chandelier, dust-ridden with time and fine silver and china still at their places around the table. Her eyes scanned over the room and she imagined herself in another life entertaining a slew of guests with not even a thought of The Problem on her mind. But then she crashed down to reality and realized that this was as close she's been in her life or ever will be.

“Lockwood, you seeing anything?” Lucy asked, despondent. With every look, the house was more ornate and lavishly furnished than she could stomach, obvious signs of wealth making Lucy grind her teeth.

“ You see something, northern girl?” Once again Lucy ignored the comments and continued on, simply huffing to herself rather than dignifying the skull with a response.

Of course, Lockwood failed to answer as he typically did when he was in the field and she sighed. With hesitance, Lucy trailed her fingers along the objects in the room, trying to detect any fleeting emotion or noise that could be connected but it was to no avail. There was absolutely nothing in this house that any of them could detect and Lucy was almost glad for it. A quiet night in a nice house was a relief that she needed, plus, they were getting paid, ghost or not.

Rolling her eyes, she trailed off to where she knew George was lounging in the kitchen and found him sitting at the dusty table gorging himself on the biscuits and tea they brought.

“Save some of those for the rest of us, huh?” Lucy chastised, snatching the package out of his hands. She took a seat across from him and took two for herself.

“Tell him he’s getting too fat not to share,” The skull laughed and she dropped him to the floor unceremoniously. “Watch it!” 

“C’mon Lucy, there's nothing in this house and you know it! Might as well sit and eat while Lockwood fumbles about.” He emphasized his point by grabbing back the biscuits.

“Where is he anyway?” Lucy stole the thermos as well and shot George a challenging look when it seemed he was going to protest.

George waved off absently, more focused on the food before him. “He was going on about checking the perimeter. I just talked to him.”

“I wish he’d take a break every once in a while. Between the three of us, I’m the only one with a normal work-life balance.” She chuckled leaning back in her chair and using the skull to prop her feet on.

“Yeah…normal.” George’s eyebrows furrowed and she threw her half eaten biscuit at him in retaliation.

The skull chose that moment to pipe up again, “There isn’t anything normal about the lot of you.” This time she kicked over the jar and George screeched on about being careful with the Type-Three.

Bored with the situation and ready to leave, she decided to round up Lockwood and get them on their way. “Lockwood’s been gone a while, I’m going to go check on him.”

Lucy stood to leave and she made it just out of the kitchen when a chill shot through the room and her breath became visible before her. She turned back towards the kitchen and locked eyes with George.

“George, I think–” She was unable to finish her sentence when the double doors slammed shut separating them from each other. Without thinking, Lucy grabbed the brass handle with her bare hand and yelped. The metal was so cold it burned her, the skin ripping where it froze to the door. Lucy bit her lip, almost drawing blood at the action and took her handkerchief to press over her hand.

“Lucy, what’s happening?” George yelled from the other side of the door. 

“I don’t know! See what you can find. The source has to be in the house somewhere for this to happen!” Lucy yelled back, still pounding on the door.

George sounded hysterical, his laugh high pitched and disbelieving. “Lockwood’s never gonna shut up about this after we get out of here!”

The wind began to pick up even more, blowing through the open front door and through the house. Lucy’s hair whipped in front of her face as she tried to focus on her listening. There was little more than the faint whisper of a man she hardly was able to make out.

Cliff…the cliff.

Lucy glanced outside, the doors still banging in the wind and made her decision. “Stay in the chain circle! I have to find Lockwood, you stay safe!” She yelled to George and turned for the front of the house.

Lucy drew her rapier with her good hand and made for the front door which was left wide open and banging in the wind. Using her forearm to guard her view, she creeped outside looking every which way for an incoming attack while yelling for her friend.

“Lockwood? Lockwood, where are you?” She tried to scream over the storm but her words were literally lost to the wind.

As she made her way further outside, she nearly tripped over something on the ground, the metallic clang catching her attention. When she picked it up, she held Lockwood’s rapier in her hand and felt her heart rate spike at the discovery. Lockwood was somewhere out there with no weapon and a ghost preying on them in a windstorm.

In the distance, she saw a figure moving farther and farther away in the direction of the ocean, a figure she could only assume was Lockwood. Her steps were quick yet strained against the storm and she was forced to sheath her rapier as it was getting too difficult to hold. She was closing in quick, just across the field and getting closer to the cliff's edge by the second, but he continued on.

“Lockwood!” She tried once more but still he seemed to be unable to hear her. “Lockwood, stop !” Her feet were moving faster now, breaking out into a sprint beneath her. She understood his unresponsiveness then, and the sudden activity once Lockwood walked off. He was ghost-locked . She was flying then, racing up the hill to meet him, the grass slipping under her feet and the wind doing all it could to knock her over. He was steps away but his cadence never faltered–the same one, two , of each foot–and she silently thanked the universe that, if nothing else, ghosts were consistent.

Her hands did one final reach as one of Lockwood’s feet went over and she grabbed the collar of his jacket, heaving him off the edge and back into her. Lucy wrapped her arms around his middle so as to not let him escape and began to yell, an action she was regretting as her voice began to go hoarse.

“Lockwood, please , you have to snap out of it! It’s me Lucy!” She felt him strain against her arms and held tighter, thinking he was still trying to throw himself off the edge.

“You think I could forget you, Luce?” Lockwood’s words tumbled out, unsure and attempting to be comedic.

“Lockwood?” She gasped out, wiggling out from under him to get a look at his eyes. When she was met with the familiar warm brown she’d grown to lo– she finally breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened?”

Lockwood’s eyes searched her own before looking away, a habit he seemed unable to break, and spoke. “He was all alone. No family, no friends, no one left.”

Lucy’s chest constricted in understanding. “Anthony…”

“He killed himself. Right here on this cliff.” His words seemed to choke him and she couldn’t help but bring her hands to cup his face.

“I need you to know that you are not alone,” Lucy brought his forehead to hers and he breathed in sharply, his pulse under her fingertips quickening. “I’m right here.”

His own hand found their way to hers, holding on as if a lifeline and he nodded. “You’re right here.”

When Lucy pulled back, she locked eyes with the boy before her again. They were softer this time but darted down to her lips in a flash. Her cheeks reddened when she noticed as did his in turn. Before she could think to do otherwise she surged forward, Lucy’s lips capturing his in a chaste kiss. It was a bit off and they were both chapped from the wind but it still had her heart pounding in her chest.

The boy before her had gone from stranger to family in the short time she’d known him. Him and George had become more to her than her family had ever been and for that she was eternally grateful. He had taken her in, given her a job, and protected her from everything a gangly teenager could manage. She loved him.

Lockwood’s eyes widened and he gasped. “Lucy–” His hands tightened atop hers and he leaned back in, kissing her slowly, reassuringly.

“You’re it for me.”

[factual-fantasy]

27 ASKS! :D FANK U! :}}} 💖

Ah! That I did. I mistook them for a bot.

Folks, you gotta put a unique profile picture of some kind and at least put in your bio "IM NOT A BOT!!-" If you have all the default stuff artists like me will assume you're a bot and just block you on sight :(

Sorry about that- I unblocked your friend. And thank you! I'm glad you like my stuff! :DD

Well,, Seam has some permeant injuries too. :( Such as his missing eye and the scars around his neck and wrists that will never fully heal..💔

Between sci-fi or fantasy? I thiiiink I prefer fantasy. XD And no its not just becuase of my name-

(Post in question)

Looking back I didn't illustrate it super well- it was intended to be something less earthy, yes. Not straight black though, It was supposed to be a really dark red. It seems black.? But anything it stains is stained red. And it was supposed to be rather thick compared to human blood.

If I ever draw it again, I'll be sure to get it to look right next time <XD

@khoiazo

@thesleepyteen1214

:DD Thank you! I'm glad you like it! :}}

Now as for Peso. I think its impossible for Peso and Barnacles to have met as kids- not only is there that age difference,, But I thought that polar bears are from the Arctic, and penguins are from the Antarctic. On the other side of the planet!

None the less- if they somehow met, I don't imagine much would happen other than them potentially becoming friends. :0 Kwazii sure ain't going anywhere, he's sticking with Barnacles family!

Oh man, if Bibi and the gang were real they'd all be screwed.😔 I don't have what it takes to take care of them properly in the real world-

I imagine that the Deltarune crew only really stay in worlds that seem safe. So if it looks safe? They'll stay. And probably not think too much about all the weird critters running around <XD

Not sure how the FNAF guys would react. A world where imaginary friends come to life seems impossible! They might think the imaginary friends are actually animatronics-

The princess quest game wasn't implemented into any of my AUs,, sorry! <:/

I've seen the game floating around, though I don't really know what its about. Also I heard whispers of a potential controversy..? Idk I'm a bit weary of the game <XD

If Freddy had a problem where he started hoarding lost kids after hours? That would be horrible for the kids.. but pretty slick for Vanessa.. 👀

Aww! That's so cute! I love all the different names! XD Having someone to man/assist in the cupcake factory would be really cool/useful as well! :DD

@beryl-shade

I was thinking that no one else in the group other than Frisk remembers. But Jevil? He.. had some kind of reaction to it.

Like when the reset occurred, Jevil had this horrible spike of anxiety and he broke out in a cold sweat and shakes. But before he could even process what was wrong, Frisk swooped in and saved Seams life. Right after he was saved, the shaking and sweating began to subside.. huh, strange..

(The second question was answered in the ask right above this one! :} )

In the comic that I was intending to draw- we would see little snip-bits of most everyone's reactions.

Jevil reacted how you'd expect.. he completely broke down. Screaming and wailing over Seams body..

Frisk froze at first, but then turned on her heel and sprinted into the woods in order to uh.. reset. No screaming, no panic. Just dead silent, sprinting into the woods..

Goner kid was freaking out so bad over Jevil screaming that when she saw Frisk run.. all she could think to do was run after her. So she did..

We don't see Grillby's face, but you can see his hand light up greenish/blue and his coat burst into flames as he realized Seam is dead..

River and Spamton weren't really meant to be seen on screen. But you can see Asgore physically become more misty/unstable when Jevil started screaming..

You know? Maybe for the sake of everyone it was better that I didn't end up drawing all that <XD 💔

No no, nothing about tombstones. The Easter egg lies in this panel.. 👀

@snickerdoodlezz

F.. FANK U,,, 💖🍽

Thank you so much!! :D

As for my brushes? I just use the standard pencil brush set to 3.0 for sketching and line art. And I use the standard pen tool for coloring! :}

@youlikwjazz004

I have seen a decent sized chunk of Adventure Time yes! Although I don't really know the story and I definitely don't know all the characters,,

But out of the characters I do know? It would have to be Simon Petrikov! ✨ With Jake as a close second. Aaaand maybe Prismo as a 3rd placer? I don't know him too much but his design slaps and he seems really chill 😎

(comic in question)

As Freddy explains, he (and the others) had a "bug" in his system. Which made his eyes purple. (Although he wasn't aware that they were purple-)

And after he crashed on stage they reset his system. Wiping the "bug" from his programming. Turning his eyes blue again :0

@storylover2

I imagine that what ever it tastes like depends on my mood. Lately its probably tasted like when you just brushed your teeth and you eat an orange 😖

Also please do not eat my noggin I need that to art-

@ocinstituterep

It's been a while since I've thought about them.. 🤔 If we're using the same formula as I did before.. (the stories of the real life cars are translated to the characters).. then that means some of them aren't doing so hot <XD

We've got a few break downs, some are still broken down. A few sold to better homes.. and a few new (very old) comers! Some are back on the road and some are still on the road when they probably shouldn't be <XD

All in all, I'd say they're doin ok :}

@beelze-juicee

:DDD THANK YOU!! And don't worry, I'm sure I'll come back to it every so often. Even though I'm a bit weary of this fandom.. I cant help but love the characters and want to draw them sometimes XD

(Kirby family in question)

<XD Sorry, no can do! I'm glad you like them! And thank you! But I'm afraid my blessings cannot be purchased.. <:/

@ninaandthegames

Yooo that is the coolest dog I have ever seen 😎

:D Thank you! And I'm not currently into any animes.. although there are some that I attempted to watch and liked for a while :0

Such as Kirby right back at ya and My hero academia! :0

@elegysonnet @willthemechanist (Post in question)

XD He's just embodying his spirit animal. A narwhal ✨🦄🐟✨

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well: Cursed Narrative, 2

{"Like a chain, it chokes my throat when she cries."}

poly!Gojo x OC x Geto

Cursed Narrative Masterlist

Part 1

Suguru Geto watched the woman with a unreadable gaze.

He kept himself as composed as possible, to keep up the monk appearance. Dark, flowing robes, long sleek hair falling down his shoulders and back. He'd practiced a minimal, placid face for years. Dealing with monkeys was just a part of the job now.

She wasn't a curse user. Just a normal person. Her disdain for the child in her grip was palpable. He could see it in the way she side-eyed the girl, hushing her harshly. The child in question was only around ten years old, dressed in a stained strawberry t-shirt and overalls. Dark hair fell into her face. Her large brown eyes watched him quietly. When he meet her eyes with his own hazel stare, she looked down at the ground. As she moved her head, he could see a bruise on the side of her neck.

"She's claiming to see spirits, Mr. Geto," the woman said, incredulously.

The little girl- Daiki was her name -was brimming with Cursed Energy. A lifetime of trauma in just a few short years. Suguru's stare slid from the little girl to the woman.

"Children often play with imaginary friends," he said kindly, smiling at the little girl. "What makes you think it's spirits?"

"Her mother said she could see them, too," the woman muttered. "Personally I think it's ridiculous but she's acting out at school now, too."

Oh? That sounded like a familiar situation. Suguru crouched down to meet Daiki on her level, careful to maneuver his robes in an appropriate manner. Behind him, a large frog-like Cursed spirit croaked as it climbed out of a dark portal in the floor. Daiki's eyes immediately focused on the frog, widening. She stepped behind the woman's legs.

"Behave!" her aunt hissed, yanking her out into the open. She looked at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

Suguru clenched his jaw. He could kill her right here. It'd take him little effort, and even less worry. Even he could admit there were levels to his hatred of people like her. Some were moderately more tolerable to stand in front of; He could barely restrain his disgust this time.

Instead he said, "She's fine. I believe I can definitely help her. If you would please step behind this curtain. We can discuss payment options."

The woman sighed, relieved. With a strongly worded command for Daiki to stay where she was and to not touch anything, Suguru led her to the impressive banner draped in front of the front offices. He politely held the curtain back so the woman could step behind. She prattled on to him about how nice it would be to rid this child of her foolish behavior. Even if he only played along and humored her, the kid wasn't smart enough to know the difference.

"You mentioned her mother," Suguru asked casually, "Tell me, does she know Daiki is here?"

"Oh, my sister is dead. God rest her soul. She died in a car-"

Suguru stepped back to avoid the blood splattering across the floor. Blood was easier to clean off the tile than it was out of his robes. He'd learned that the hard way. His face scrunched in revulsion at the way her mutilated corpse fell to the ground. Even the stench of their death was nearly nauseating.

On the other side of the curtain, Daiki was crouched down in front of the frog Curse. She held her hand out, carefully rubbing it's smooth head. The frog Curse gurgled in delight. Daiki saw him from the corner of her eye. She snapped her hand to her side, stepping away shyly.

"You can pet it," Suguru said, smiling. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the curtain. "What you're seeing are not spirits. They're called Curses. It's perfectly normal for people like us."

"Where did-" Daiki asked quietly, looking back.

"She's busy filling out some documents. Are you hungry?"

---

The girls were ecstatic to have another little one to play with. Suguru watched Mimiko and Nanako show her around the apartment. Nanako was adamant they all spend the night in her room for a sleepover. Daiki simply followed them around aimlessly. He sat in a chair by the open window, cigarette in one hand, cell phone in the other. Warm light from the lamp cast a golden glow on his face. Daiki hadn't mentioned her aunt since that morning. She was probably used to being left with strangers. He'd come up with something to tell her later.

The wind ruffled his long hair. He blew smoke slowly from his mouth, eyes drifting to the name on the screen.

He was not usually a hesitant man.

Finally, he dialed the number and brought the phone to his ear.

A few dial tones. Ringing...ringing...ringing some more...

"Hello?"

Her voice nearly knocked the wind out of him. So achingly familiar, and yet older, wiser. For a moment he couldn't speak. Her cadence brought back old memories he'd pushed down. Memories of summertime spent lazing around, hand in hand with... He gripped the phone tighter.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"It's nice to hear you again, Miho," he said, flicking the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray.

Silence on the other line.

"I apologize for calling out of the blue," Suguru continued, "I have a favor to ask."

Part 3

[slyfoxann544]

𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖 (𝑰𝒛𝒖𝒌𝒖 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖤𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝖽'𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖨𝗓𝗎𝗄𝗎 𝖬𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗒𝖺'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟥𝟢𝟢𝟢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁

A/n: Gif credit to @rubydragon16

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

"Ouch", you whine rubbing your back as you get up.

'She could've at least given me a soft landing', you think when your attention is brought to your hands which looked smaller, like those of a four-year-old.

Looking around, you notice how dark everything was, the only source of light being blocked by the back of a big chair. In the background you could hear sounds of people's  panics among other things, which seemed to be coming from the only light source of the room, a computer.

Among these other sounds you could also make out the faint sniffles of the boy seated in the chair.

"Hello?", you call out making the sniffs pause. Then slowly the chair spun around, revealing a green haired boy, no older than four.

"Who are you?", he asks wiping his cheeks as he gets down and comes towards you.

"I'm Y/n", you answer holding out your hand. "And I'm your new friend."

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

A few hours earlier⌛

"So you're telling me I'm dead?", you say gripping the sides of your clothes as the (literal) angel in front looks at you in despair.

"You're saying that I won't ever be able to see mommy and daddy ever again? That I won't be able to play with my friends ever?", big hot tears had started to escape your eyes and cloud your vision now.

"You're lying!", you shout. "This is all a bad dream. I will wake up soon and then mommy will be there and make me some pudding! Then Ai and Kenji will come over and we'll all go to school together! You're just a bad liar!"

The angel only looks at you in pity as you break down crying on the floor. 

"Let me wake up! I wanna live!", you sob desperately. "I wanna go have dinner with mommy! I wanna go play with my friends! I wanna become a big and strong hero like daddy!", you only sit on the ground, helplessly, bringing your knees close to your chest and you continue to weep.

"I know.", the winged beauty answers in a soothing tone as she gets closer to you.

It wasn't fair. It was too early for you. I wasn't your time yet, it shouldn't have been your time yet. You were still so young. So full of life, so full of potential. You had your whole life ahead of you. A glorious future. Such beautiful memories to make.

All that, ripped away from you before you'd even gotten a taste of it. It was cruel, you were only six after all.

Yet, such was the nature of fate.

But, there was a way to get around it. So she gave you that option, hoping nothing but the best for the child she'd looked over in secret all these years.

To be an imaginary friend.

Sure, it would only be for a few years, as long as the child needed you around. Still, it was something. You'd at least get to experience a few more years of life this way.

It wasn't fair, she knew that. Being given the choice of staying with some unknown kid only to help make their life better, ripped apart from your loved ones in exchange for those precious experiences and memories supposed to be made over many decades of being alive, that should've rightfully been yours from the start.

Still, it was something, and something was better than nothing.

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

You soon learned that the boy in whose room you'd appeared was named Izuku Midoriya and he.....was quirkless.

Hearing about how his dreams were crushed was heartbreaking, especially since you could relate seeing as all your dreams had come crashing down in such a short time. However, ironically enough, his grief provided the perfect distraction from yours. You'd pushes your feelings of despair deep down and instead directed your focus at him.

You'd do everything you could to make him feel better, and he did soon enough, and when you got to really know Izuku, everything seemed to have changed for the better. The two of you had instantly hit it off and had become the bestest of friends and gotten closer than you were with any of your previous friends. 

With him around you didn't even remember you weren't alive anymore. His lively and charming presence came like the light of hope into your life that drove away all the darkness that were your sorrows and misery. 

Still, there were times you'd be reminded of your previous life, you were still a human with feelings after all (albeit not alive). But soon you found solace in Izuku at times like these. He'd become your shelter in those nights of stormy emotions that welcomed you with open arms and a promise to protect you as you would confide in him. 

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

It was raining heavily that night with lots of lightning, there was a thunderstorm. 

The greenette was sleeping soundly in his bed, having dozed off mid-way through your discussion on whether or not people with anthropogenic quirks are born that way or if they randomly wake up one day with altered bodies. 

You in the meanwhile had decided to go over to the window and stare at the rain. For some reason you couldn't sleep and to make matters worse, you were hit by a wave of nostalgia that brought the feeling of sorrow with it. 

You'd begun to recall that one fateful night spent with your parents. 

There's been a thunder storm, just like this one and you couldn't sleep with how jumpy you were. You were pretty young at that time too, maybe around 3, (you couldn't remember anymore), so there was nothing out of place about your fear of thunderstorms.

Your parents, in an attempt to make you feel at ease had offered to sleep in your room for the night but when that didn't help they decided on something different. With a few pillows, mattresses and bedsheets and blankets their little blanket fort to make you feel better was ready. All night (as long as you could stay awake), the three of you watched movies and shared stories. 

The exact details were hazy, that was a really long time ago after all, seeing as it had been six years since you joined Izuku who was now 10, but that was the gist of it. Many years had passed since then and you were now no longer scared of a little lightning here and there. 

Remembering all this now, it made you long for their company once again and before you knew it big fat tears had escaped your eyes and were running down your face and the sound of your quite cries had filled the otherwise silent room. 

"Y/n?", the green haired boy called you rubbing his eyes as he came up behind you. Feeling his presence you quickly wipe away your tears as you proceeded to try reassure him that you were just having trouble sleeping. 

"I get it.", he says. "You're scared of thunderstorms.", he says as he looks down in shame. " And here I was sleeping all peacefully without paying attention to you. I'm such a bad friend." 

No, no you're not! I'm not scared of thunderstorms.", you try convincing him. 

"It's okay, you don't have to hide it from me. I'll make you feel better now.", the boy answers with determination before his face lights up.

"I know!", he says. Quickly he goes back and forth across his room gathering various pillows and blankets. 

"Tada!", he says excitedly gesturing to his creation as you stand there frozen in place staring at the haphazardly made blanket fort as he pulls you into it and sits you down. 

"Now we can tell each other stories.", he squeals in excitement.  

You only sit there looking at him as once again your tears find an escape from your eyes as you begin to sob, much to the boy's distress, who looks shocked deciding what to do for a moment. 

"There, there.", he says softly pulling into his embrace. You gladly return his hug as you continue to bawl while he runs hin fingers through your hair. 

"I'm here if you ever need to talk, k?", he says softly resting his chin on your head as you nod. 

That was the night you realized something. It's taken a while to come to this conclusion you finally admit it. 

Izuku, had started to feel like home. 

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

Slowly, the years passed and Izuku grew and along with him, so did you. Time flies when you're having fun and before the two of you knew it a decade had passed since you'd first laid your eyes on the boy. 

A lot changed during these years, the neighborhood had grown, the freckled teen found new heroes to obsess over, more of his notebooks were filled with hero analysis, many other imaginary friends you'd noticed disappeared and new ones were spotted by you over the years. 

But the one thing that remained the same was Izuku, your Izuku. Still just a optimistic, still just as determined to achieve his dreams and still just as in need of your company and you still just as grateful for his. 

Over the years your bond had strengthened. Sure you'd had mild arguments here and there but they served only to bring the 2 of you closer together. 

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

It was another normal sunny day, usually on such a day you and your green-eyed companion would be outside doing God knows what. However, today you were sitting at the window in the aspiring heroes room, sulking.

It was nothing major really, no big deal. The two of you had just been lying under the trees in the near-by playground, enjoying each other's company, discussing random things when you'd gotten into a debate which had managed to spark-off an argument, well not exactly an argument, but it had still managed to leave you in a foul mood so you had made your exit with the timely arrival of the greenette's 'companions, aka the famous Kacchan and his lackeys.

So here you were, regretting having let your emotions to get the best of you. However, your train of thought was interrupted by someone knocking on the door, making you look back to spot the 7-year-old.         

Sighing, you simply turn back around to continue gazing out the window. The green-eyed boy however, is only left standing there, contemplating what to do when suddenly an idea strikes him. 

There was no guarantee if this would work to improve your mood. Chances were it could go either way, still he went through with it. 

He goes on and knocks on the door in a pattern before calling out your name, gaining your attention.

"Do you...wanna build a snowman?", he says looking away slightly unsure of your reaction before looking up at you for a response. 

The two of you had absolutely loved the movie and had only recently watched it this week. So in hopes of getting a laugh out of you, the boy had decided to go through with his plan.

You on the other hand however, only stand there with a dumbfounded expression on your face in shock before replying with a straight face, "It's the middle of summer". 

"Uh....." 

The two of you only stand there in complete silence awkwardly before you burst into a fit of laughter and the boy finally lets out a relieved sigh before joining you. 

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

Slowly as time passed you'd also started to grow more concerned for the boy. He still held on tightly and desperately to his dream of becoming a hero. But till now, that's all that was, a dream, and a seemingly impossible one at that.

There was no sugar coating the fact that Izuku's dream was one that he would most likely not be able to achieve, no matter how hard he tried. You knew that.

He was quirkless, and so with no power of his own, going against villains who were leagues above him in terms of both physical strength and powers, the chances of him coming out alive would decrease every time.

Sure, the limits of his physical capabilities could be extended with strenuous training and hard work and sure there were plenty of support items to make up for quirks but still, the battles he would inevitably face would surely prove to be grim.

Bodies could easily break. Even well trained veteran heroes with powerful quirks would come out of their battles injured gravely at times and Izuku was just a regular boy. Not to mention, support items could be easily damaged and discarded by the villains, leaving him vulnerable.

You knew that, yet your heart ached for the boy you'd grown to love over the years and a part of you hoped that some way his dream would come true, because you knew how badly his heart would be crushed if it didn't.

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

At this point, it was clear that Izuku's dream could only come true with a miracle. You had never been one to believe in miracles however, but you could say that your presence currently was a miracle in itself. So your heart prayed for a miracle, something, anything that would provide aid to the boy for fulfilling his goal.

You grew more uneasy at the thought of the future as each day passed by. But it was as if your prayers had been answered when the freckled teen happened to stumble across All Might, who made him his successor.

It was great! Both of you were overjoyed and the first night neither of you could sleep, Izuku from the sheer excitement and you from the growing nervousness. 

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

The moonlight filtered into the room through the curtains as a cool breeze blew in the background making the weather pleasant. Silence filled the entire room with the exception of the clock ticking in the background.

The greenette lay in his bed with his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to force his body to sleep, which of course he could not do. A million thoughts rushed through his mind. Some were him fantasizing how his life would be from this day forward, or him just recalling the day's events as it all still felt surreal, and no matter how hard he tried, his brain would. not. stop. thinking.

As one would guess, he was terribly nervous. He laid there trying calm down his heart as it hammered against his chest not allowing him to sleep.

He'd finally had enough of it and decided to get up as he threw the covers off. His eyes remained fixed to his lap momentarily as he swung his legs out of bed in thought before finally looking around the room in search of your familiar figure, which was no where to be found.

"Y/n?"

No answer.

He slowly got up and made his way towards the window and slid it open entirely. Carefully, he jumped out onto the platform of the fire escape and made his way up to the roof.

"Thought you'd be here.", he said smiling as he spots your lying figure staring at the sky.

The boy climbs up and makes his way to lay on the ground next to you on the ground. This was your favorite star gazing spot. Whenever you'd feel sad or troubled, you'd come here to gaze at the stars to give yourself a sense of peace.

"Hey.", you greet turning your head sideways to look at him. "Couldn't sleep?", you ask as the boy responds by shaking his head. "Me neither."

For a while the two of you only continue to look at the sky, enjoying each other's company. A comfortable silence surrounded you both.

Finally, you decide to speak up.

"So, first day of hero training soon huh?", you say sighing.

"Yep! I'm really excited! But it all still feels like a dream.", the boy beams.

You only turn your head away sighing sadly. Your lips trembled as you tried to stop them from turning into a frown as your vision got blurry. 

No.

This was his special day. You could not let it get ruined because you got all emotional.

The small sniff you let out immediately caught your companion's attention as he quickly sat up in shock and confusion.

"Y/n, are you-"

"I'm fine.", you answered as you sat up. "But I need you to tell me something. Just be honest with me, 'kay?"

Izuku looked at you in shock. Your eyes were all teary, filled with sorrow and desperation.

"Will you-After you get into UA and become a hero, will you not need me anymore?", tears were slowly streaming down your face. 

"After you pass the exam and make more friends, will you forget about me? Will you leave me behind and forget me?", you were bawling at this point as you hiccupped between your words.

"Because, I-I don't want you too. Is, is it selfish of me to wish to keep you by my side forever? I'm a terrible friend aren't I?", you cried out as you tried to wipe your eyes with the edge of your sweatshirt's sleeve.

Seeing you this way absolutely broke the green eyes boy's heart. What was worse was that this was because of Him.

He curse himself for not being able to tell you were upset. You had been acting different ever since after All Might told him he'd get his quirk. What kind of a friend was he?

"How can you say?!", he says gripping your shoulders, albeit a little too loudly snapping you out of it.

"Y/n, you're one of the most important people in my life! I care for you!", he says pulling you into a hug.

"I will never forget you. No matter what, I'll always stay by your side. You aren't selfish, you're the best friend I could ever ask for."

"I will always need you."

You were at a loss of words. Al you could do was return his embrace as more tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Promise?"

"Promise"

✩｡:*•.───── 🥦🥦 ─────.•*:｡✩

It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Too perfect even.

And we all know how the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and indeed they soon would.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Friends to Lovers Fics Masterlist (13)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / 

Created: June 6th, 2024

Checked:---

That Time We Took Over the World-Gamemakers (ao3) Summary: Being a session guitarist pays well, but Katniss Everdeen’s always wanted a taste of the spotlight. Enter Peeta Mellark, whose boyband fame faded twenty years ago, and a not-quite-dying wish from an old friend, and she’s in for way more than she bargained for. The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64-populardarling (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition. It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it. But a lot can happen in six months. The Ghost of You-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen thought they were just her imaginary friends. Turns out, they were very real—and dead. An Everlark take on the movie “Heart and Souls.” The Great Panem Christmas Bake-Off-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Aspiring baker Katniss Everdeen finally gets her chance when she's chosen for The Great Panem Christmas Bake Off. Too bad, she's already managed to piss off famous baker and Bake-Off judge, Peeta Mellark. The Holiday Stand In-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen needs a guy to pretend to be her boyfriend for the holidays, and when she meets Peeta Mellark she thinks he's the answer to her Christmas prayers. Peeta also happens to need a significant other to take home to show off to his folks. So Katniss proposes that they pose as each other's dates for the holiday season. Just to get their families off their backs. But pretending to be in love is a dangerous game, one that Katniss might not end up winning unless she plays her cards right. The Hoodie-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Based off the prompt: I’ve been wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie around the house for the last week. I tried to give it back last night. “That’s not my hoodie.” He said. I then realized with horror I’ve been wearing our builder’s hoodie. In front of our builder. The Long Weekend-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend. Oh, and one bed. The Marrow of the Story-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Written for the Everlark Fic Exchange Springtime 2020 Edition Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long-standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn’t donate he will die. The One She Left Behind-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: Everlark modern AU Weeks after moving to New York, Peeta Mellark encounters a woman he thought he'd never see again. The Pact-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: prompt: best friends everlark!pact on marrying each other when they turn 30 and are still single. now both are 30 and very much married. what comes after? (surprisingly good sex, awkward kids talk, explaining to families and friends) its up to you☺

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Sweet past - ch.2

Summary: You and Joel catch up, trying to avoid the crucial topic. It doesn't always work.

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Warnings: mention of death, foul language, angst.

AN: This will be angsty for a while, so buckle up...

Masterlist Chapter 1

He did indeed stock you up. He brought you some coffee, sugar, and milk. You smiled softly at the way he remembered how you drank it. There was some food and soda as well. Typical Joel. Always worrying about everyone he deemed close. And when you thanked him, he waved his hand at you, dismissing the nice gesture. 

“Here,” he nodded, thanking you for the coffee. You were both sitting at the table in the kitchen. A four-people, oval, little table that your mom has chosen for a morning coffee. You were happy to see it was still there. “How are you? How's Sarah?” Were you postponing the talk? Sure, but it wasn’t anything anyone would want to talk about. Ever. 

“Sarah is well. She's at Uni, doing her big girl things.” You chuckled softly at that. “She's fucking smart, you know? I don't know where she gets it from.” He jokes and you roll your eyes.

“You still don't give yourself enough credit.” He raised his brow, but you kept your ground. It was astonishing how someone like Joel fucking Miller was not able to see how incredible he was. 

A single father that has raised his daughter into not only an amazing, strong woman but a damn good human being. He was able to create his own company with his brother while being a single parent. And on top of that, he was such an amazing friend to your dad and a great supporting system for you. He was your biggest friend and you were never embarrassed to call him that. 

“And you are still as sweet as I remember” He winked at you, trying to switch the tone of the conversation a bit. He took a deep breath and you frowned seeing him getting nervous. “I kind of adopted a girl…” your eyes widened, almost spitting a coffee you just took a sip of. “Her name is Ellie and she's 15. It's a long story for another day, but yeah, at least I'm not alone since Sarah left.” You smiled at that, happy that he had it going on for him. 

“Maybe I should not have left him alone then…” you didn't know where that came from. It was you who started the topic of Joel's life not to talk about it and yet here you were. 

“Don't do that, kid,” Joel murmured, looking at you with the same softness you missed so much. “You left because you needed to. He made you leave. And if you want my opinion, it was a good thing you did. He was able to stand back on his own two feet. You, leaving? It gave him a boost to realize it was the time to stop being a jerk.”

“I hear ya, Joel.” You muttered, your voice shaky with emotions. “I know I had a reason for leaving, but I can't stop thinking if he would still be…” you choked on your words and closed your eyes to get back in control. “I sent him money every month. I told him I'll stop if he comes back to drinking… I didn't want him to think he was nothing but a bother to me. I thought I would be able to help him.”

“You did help him”

“He's fucking dead!” You shouted, standing up from the table, ignoring the chair falling. You knew you were being unfair toward the man in front of you, but the imaginary barrier that was blocking your feelings had finally slipped. “He's dead because I was too proud and left a man in need alone! What kind of a daughter does that? Tell me Joel!” Heavy, angry tears were running down your cheeks. “He hated me so much that he didn't even tell me he was sick!” Before you were able to do anything else, you were pulled into the strong and always protective arms of his best friend. His hand on the back of your back, softly patting it, kissing the side of your head. “I'm so fucking selfish!” You continued, so angry at yourself. Your fingers clenched into the fabric of his shirt. “You lost your best friend. And you have been nothing but supportive all my life and I'm such a bitch!” Joel chuckled softly and his hug tightened. 

“You're neither selfish nor a bitch!” He took a step back and looked into your eyes. His were so soft and supportive, it made you sob a bit more. “You're human and that is normal. But…” his voice got stern and you swallowed, thinking you had done something really bad. “Try not to use that language in front of Sarah and Ellie. Especially Ellie.” You raised your brow and for the first time since he called, you laughed. The way his expression changed, he looked like a typical tired single father of a teenage girl. 

“She's giving you trouble?” 

“Don't even get me started…” He pulled you towards the couch in the living room. Pushing the touchy subject just a little bit further away, he ordered some pizza and told you all about how Ellie became such a huge part of his and Sarah's life. 

***

“She seems delightful!” You chuckled at the story Joel told you. Ellie was most definitely a mischief. He found her running away from yet another temporary house. Something about the couple there being so boring. They bumped into each other while he was shopping. She made him a part of some monologue of her own, forcing him to listen and lose sense of reality. She talked that much and with no sense at all, that he didn't even notice when he paid for her stuff. Before he was able to say anything she was gone, only a booming laugh could be heard in the distance. 

The second time she bumped into him was near a playground. He was too tired to remember her, but apparently, she remembered him quite well. With no worry, she just once again started talking. She was quite witted and to Joel's surprise, she didn't annoy him that much. Sure she talked a lot but she had a weird sense of humor and he enjoyed her presence. She told him about a book she wanted but the new couple didn't want to buy her as they had a stick up their asses - her words not his. Joel forced himself not to laugh at the seriousness on an 11-year-old's face. 

“So you bought her the book?” You exclaimed, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“A part of me hoped that she would leave me the hell alone if I did, but yeah, she seemed to want it and it didn't seem like she would stay with that couple for a long time.” You rolled your eyes but smirked at him to continue. “I think she went through what was it like 8 couples?” He frowned and got serious for a minute, sipping his beer. He did buy you everything, even some beer for the evenings. “Ellie… she's kind of difficult, but she is a good kid. She's great, you know?” He chuckled nervously. “She just doesn't trust easily, you know ?” 

“Well, I know someone very similar.” You winked at him and he rolled his eyes at your suggestive tone. “She sounds lively. I'd love to meet her if you'll let me.” 

“Of course, you're family, I want you to meet her”, your eyes widened and tears appeared in your eyes again. Deep down you knew that what Joel said was true, but hearing it coming directly from him was something completely different. Especially now, when you are alone in this world. No family left, no real friends. You never really had time for that. Even when you moved you focused on working to be able to send your father some money. Sure, you had colleagues, but that was it. “Kid, you're OK?” You looked up, hearing concern in his voice. You raised your hand when he wanted to get up and walk towards you. 

“I think I'm a bit emotional lately. Sorry about that!” It was your turn now to chuckle nervously. You took a deep breath and smiled softly at him. “I'm just relieved that I have you in my life, Joel.” His eyes widened and he frowned. “When I left I was afraid you won't want to talk to me anymore. But here you are calling me a family when I abandoned you all…”

“You haven't…”

“I know” you interrupted him, swallowing harder, trying to control your beating heart. Your aching heart, thanks to this man hasn't broken into pieces yet. “All this is new and painful right now and what I want to say is that … I'm just happy you are by my side.” You both jumped when his phone rang. A frustrated sigh left his lip but he frowned and picked up. 

“Ellie?” You smiled at the way his tone changed dramatically after that annoyed look he had just seconds ago. You got up and collected the empty bottles from the beer. You wondered if Joel had cleaned the home before you came back. Everything looked too clean to have been kept that way by your father. 

Your heart beats faster, thinking about that man. You met him when you were almost 13 and you moved here with your parents. A house they always dreamed of and you couldn't be more happy moving from a one-bedroom flat to an actual home. 

You met Sarah before you were able to meet Joel. She was playing around in the garden, she was 4 and full of energy. Joel had bought her a little pool where she could splash during hot days. 

You are still unsure what possessed you to go there but after giving your mom some puppy eyes you went to the house where Sarah was playing happily in the water. It was 4 houses away from yours so it wasn't that far for your parents to worry. 

“I love your pool!” You exclaimed and apologized when she jumped hearing you out of nowhere. She frowned slightly, and now when you remembered, she looked just like her own father. You introduced yourself then, smiling brightly at a little girl. You always wanted a younger sibling. But your mother couldn't have any more kids and so you were raised by yourself. “I and my parents just moved in. Can I play with you?” And this was the beginning of your friendship either Sarah. Being 9 years older, you finally had a little sister and Sarah had a big sibling as she always wanted. 

You met Joel the same day, a couple of minutes after you started to play with Sarah. You still remember the softness in his eyes when he noticed you playing with his kid. The little, gentle “sweetheart” he called you then. The way he kneeled next to the two of you, splashing you both with water. He didn't mind you were a random kid from the neighborhood. All he cared about was that you played with his little girl. 

Later on, your parents met him, when they came to pick you up. He was invited to a dinner, after that, you were invited for Sarah's birthday and it went like that. Joel has become a huge part of your family's life and yours. When you turned to that awkward teenage years, before all went to shit, he was that cool family friend who you spoke to about all these awkward things. He was the one who picked you up from your first drunk night and listened to you crying about your first breakup. He was also the one who threw condoms into your bag one day when you started to date. Something you picked up on with Sarah, for which he was very thankful. It was one thing to be a cool friend to you, but he wasn't as OK with all these when it came to Sarah. 

There was a moment in your young life when Joel Miller was your best friend. Your parents used to laugh that you would spend more time at his place than yours. To your surprise, he didn't mind, when your dad asked him if you ain't a bother. 

“She's a cool kid. Don't worry about it.” Being called cool kid when you were 17 by someone like Joel, was the best fucking feeling in the entire world. Spending so much time with him of course led your stupid innocent heart to fall for him. You knew he was too old for you, after all, he was 30 while you were just a teenager. Despite the young age, you were smart enough to keep that attraction to yourself. His friendship and support were much more worth than your romantic feelings towards him. 

It all dramatically changed when your mother died. It was an accident. A drunk driver hit her car. Of course, nothing has happened to him, but your mother didn't survive. Here brain stopped working after a week in hospital. And just like that, all your life changed. 

Your father was in such despair that he completely forgot that he had a 21-year-old daughter. He would just sit in front of the TV and eat. Joel would come from time to time to take him out somewhere. You were thankful for that. Not only did it give you some time to yourself to mourn - after all you did lose your mother - but also cleaned up the house a bit. 

But the more time flew the less power even Joel had over your father. The old man got so depressed that he stopped working, losing the job altogether. He didn't leave the house and showered only when he got that extra energy. And he started drinking. 

In the beginning, it wasn’t much. Just a beer to the movie. Later it turned into 3 up to 5 beers a night. When these didn't help with the pain he changed into whiskey, but that was too expensive so he switched to vodka. Not only was it cheap but it was easiest to get drunk on. And when he was drunk, he just let himself forget. And when he forgot, well he forgot about everything. 

He forgot that he had a daughter who needed to quit college to find a full-time job. And after a while another one. A daughter that at the age of 22 was working two jobs around 70 hours a week. A daughter who was acting more like a nurse and a cleaning lady than his child. He forgot that he was once a stoic man, with a big heart and gentle voice. 

It started with an angry comment about something you didn't do. Then that comment turned into insults that became more and more painful to hear. After that came the shouting. He would shout at you for any minor inconvenience. Normally it was when there was not enough vodka in the fridge. 

You became a shell of a person. At the age of almost 25, you looked like you were close to 50. Bags under your eyes, skinny as a stick, white like a ghost. Joel would come to visit as much as he could. But Sarah was in high school when she was thinking of going to college. His own company had an extra job and he had to ask Tommy to become his partner. He still came to visit. He would try to talk to your dad, but the man was a shell, non-responsive.  

And it broke his heart completely seeing you. Well, at least when he got a chance to. You were never home. And even when you were, you were on your way out, or too busy cleaning and taking care of your drunk father. And yet, even then he remembered you would talk with Sarah when she needed it or help her with her applications. He wasn't sure how you were able to function and he was fearing the moment that it would all be too much for you. 

It was on your birthday, of all days. You were turning 26 and Joel wanted to make sure that it would be the best day of your life. You remembered how he would bring that cake, how he disappeared in your father's room and made him take a shower and look decent for once. You took a day off to sleep. Even Sarah came that day. They bought you a new phone, your last one broke a while ago and there was no way you would be able to afford a new one with how everything looked at home. You cried happy tears, finally smiling, hugging them both. 

But it all went to shit when you lost sight of your father. He used that moment to go to his love and get a bottle of vodka hidden under the bed. When he walked down the stairs he was already drunk. A bottle was almost empty. He looked at the phone in your hand and the hell broke. 

Thinking you spent the money by yourself he started shouting and swearing at you. Joel tried to calm him down, but you begged him not to interfere and leave. You would take care of your father. He was your problem,  and Joel and Sarah have seen enough. And as they were leaving, you walked them to the doors, a bottle was thrown right next to you, trashing into the wall. You still remember the silence after that and then, just like that, you felt a slap on your cheek. An angry move from your drunken father, who felt like he owned you. What he saw was his daughter being disrespectful for turning around while he was shouting at you. 

You have never seen Joel as angry. He ordered Sarah to go back home and he shoved the man you used to call dad away from you. You remember that as if it happened yesterday. You remember how you weren't even able to cry. You just stood there unable to comprehend what just happened. And then your brain caught up to what happened. And you have had enough. You went to your room. When Joel came to see you, you apologized that he had to see it. You do not remember much of what was said. But you remember you spent the night, after he left, writing letters. One to Sarah, one to Joel, and one to him. And you left. Packed the most important stuff and left. When you saw a bus ticket to Washington, you just bought it and went for it. 

Life wasn't easy, but at least you were free. Free from the man you hated, but caged by the past and the fact that you still loved him and couldn't just leave him. And so you sent him the money. What he did with them was up to him. He was an adult. You just wanted to shut that conscious up. 

“Ellie says hi!” You jumped and turned around. Joel hid his phone momentarily and jogged toward you, seeing tears in your eyes. How many times will you cry in front of him, before he gets tired of it? You were too afraid to even think that. You were sure that if you had lost Joel, you would have fallen apart. “It's late, sweetheart. How about we get you to bed and we will deal with whatever that is tomorrow?” You nodded and leaned into him, letting him take care of you. You trusted him and wanted nothing more than for this day to end. You have fallen asleep thankful for Joel to be a part of your life once again.