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cardhamine · 9 days

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A little bit of a late @vanweek2024 prompt!

Here's a very short ficlet for the final prompt, Sunrise. (Put under Read More to not take up a ton of dashboard space.)

Vanessa sat at the foot of an old oak tree, soaking in the moment. Her eyes trailed the scene before her, the dip of the hill and the flower-dappled meadow it rolled into. The early morning sun was just lighting up the hill, illuminating its greens and yellows. A sunbeam fell through the oak's boughs and across her face, brightening the green of one iris into a bright, gold-flecked emerald.

When was the last time she saw the sunrise? The last time she smelled sweet morning air? The last time she felt grass at her fingertips? The last time she'd even been outside, for heaven's sake?

She couldn't remember.

Wow. She really couldn't. She had no idea when she was outside the pizzaplex last. When the sun was rising every day for the last who-knows-how-long, she was crawling back to a grubby mattress in a dark room illuminated by aged, flickering light fixtures. Those old LED bulbs were her sun. The computer monitors her moon. At least the stars above the daycare looked like real stars. Sometimes she pretended they were so she could imagine for just an instant she wasn't cooped up forever in that suffocating place.

Was that pathetic? It felt pathetic.

"Vanessa?"

She turned her head so quickly a muscle in her neck twisted. Other than a slight grimace, the shock of pain didn't show on her face. "Everything okay, Kid?"

"Don't call me Kid," came the boy's huffy reply. Whether he liked it or not, the nickname wasn't inaccurate by any means. He was hardly a preteen - probably. That or seriously malnourished. He sat just a foot or so away, Glamrock Freddy's head cushioned snuggly in his lap. He had paused halfway through a bite of ice cream to catch her in a stubborn half-glare.

Vanessa shook her head. "Sorry. Right. Gregory. What's wrong?" Anxiety flared in her gut. Was he alright? Had he gotten hurt somehow? Or maybe he'd gotten hurt back in the plex and was just now realizing it? She had hurt him after all, hadn't she? And maybe he was just bleeding slowly, internally, minute-by-minute just becoming another of her victims unless they did something quic-

"You're making kind of a dumb face."

She blinked. "What?"

"You were making a dumb face, and you were, like, staring directly into the sun. I don't think you're supposed to do that, even if it's not all the way up yet. And your ice cream is melting on your shirt." He took a bite of his own ice cream, then nodded to himself, as if approving of his own assessment.

She blinked again, absorbing the information. "Ah." Her hands hurried to wipe at the cold liquid that had dripped down onto her purple flannel. It would definitely dry before she was anywhere near soap and water to get the sugary substance out of the threads. She 'tsk'ed, licked at her thumb, then scrubbed with mild irritation at what was sure to become a stain.

"What were you making that dumb face for, anyway?"

Vanessa couldn't help the way her lip twitched with slight annoyance at the question. "What was so dumb about the face?"

"You kind of looked like you were thinking about something that bothered you a lot." He paused, mused, then added, "Or like you had to use the bathroom, maybe."

"I didn't have to use the bathroom," she sighed out in mild exasperation. Now she took her turn to pause. She listened to the sound of wind blowing across the grassy hill. Watched as the sun crept higher in the sky. Felt the tell-tale heat of the summer morning air. "I was just thinking."

"About all the bad stuff again?"

Vanessa frowned. "What do you mean, 'again'?"

"You made that face the whole car ride here. Even when we were buying the ice cream. I'm pretty sure you freaked the ice cream lady out."

A little embarassed, the blonde shrugged. She scratched distractedly at her freckled cheek and sighed. "Yeah, she seemed pretty wigged, huh?" Her tone lightened somewhat, and she mused, "We did get an extra scoop for free; I'm assuming as an act of pity? Like, a pity scoop. Not a horrible trade-off, actually. Maybe I should reenact the war flashbacks for sympathy more often."

Gregory hummed thoughtfully at the proposal. "I bet if we combined that with some casual mention of me being an orphan, we could get free ice cream for at least a week."

Vanessa bit back a laugh. "We are not getting ice cream every day, especially not for an entire week in a row. That much sugar will kill-" The raw irony of the statement cut through her before she'd even finished her sentence, but she tried to correct quickly enough to not make it noticeable. "- a person.. I mean. Like. It's really bad for you." As hard as she tried to mask her discomfort, her mind had started turning on those familiar, bloody memories now, and it showed on her face clear as day.

Gregory didn't seem overly sympathetic. Instead, he was fixated on her refusal to get more ice cream. "Oh, suddenly NOW you're a good influence?"

Vanessa balked at the sheer audacity in his irreverence to her inner turmoil. Speechless, she only stared. He stared back, studying her expression with furrowed brows.

"You are! You totally are!" Whatever his revelation, he seemed completely exasperated. If he didn't have an ice cream cone in his hands at the time, he probably would have thrown them up in the air to emphasize that feeling.

For a third time, she blinked. "I'm.. what?"

"Thinking about all the bad stuff again!"

Screwing up her face in frustration, she confessed, "Of course I am! I-..!" She swallowed hard at the knot forming in her throat. "I have a LOT of 'bad stuff' to remember. A lot of bad stuff that I did."

"But you didn't." When Vanessa only continued to stare, Gregory elaborated, "You got infected with a virus or whatever. You didn't do any of the bad stuff; the virus did."

"It was still my hands doing it all." She glanced down at her palm. An intrusive flash of some nasty memory distorted her vision. For a moment, she swore that palm was dripping with blood. She squeezed her eyes closed and shook away the memory. "And it was my fault I got infected with that 'virus', anyw-" A drop of something cold landed on her fingers, and she opened her eyes again to see more of her ice cream dripping onto her skin.

"You're wasting the whole thing," Gregory complained. "A perfectly good pity scoop, taken for granted. I could have eaten that if you weren't going to."

"What did I just say about too much sugar..?" She gave the ice cream a somewhat irritable lick, as if somehow it was to blame for its own sorry state. It tasted good, even if it was a little melted. She had missed sweets. Before that thing had crawled in her head, she'd kind of had a sugar problem, honestly; but apparently he was always too busy working on his twisted plans to let her have any decent meal - let alone anything sweet. When was the last time she had ice cream? When was the last time she tasted anything but day old pizza? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad letting the kid have ice cream for a week straight, after all. She figured they both deserved it.

"Anyway, I think you should stop thinking so hard about all the bad stuff," Gregory returned to their previous conversation. "If you keep getting distracted thinking about all that, you're going to waste the rest of the ice cream."

"And the rest of the sunrise," piped up Freddy (who she had almost forgotten about there for a second.)

Vanessa's eyes widened, and she turned back to the sight of the sun nearly fully bloomed on the horizon.

"Yeah," she said, gentle understanding blooming in her along with the sunrise. "I guess it would be a shame to let that go to waste, wouldn't it?"

#vanweek2024 #fnaf security breach #fnaf vanessa #fnaf Gregory #Not an AU in any capacity #Thank you for recommending this prompt Haz!#The way I write game Canon Vanessa is “tired and grumpy but very worried older sister”#She's trauma bonded with Gregory and would maul any man or beast who tried to hurt him #Though isn't she the one who tried to hurt him the worst...?#Uh oh .. severely traumatizing guilt time #glamrock freddy

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snzysimper · 24 days

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Pollen of Eden

yippee first Hazbin Hotel fic (excluding that really old one I wrote when I was like 14 😭)

I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. Decided to jump on the bandwagon of writing Ad//am fics. Enjoy.

1089 words

| I am allowed to write what I want and I would appreciate it if you keep whatever rude comments you have to yourself |

The Garden of Eden is the closest to the idea of perfection that is possible, in the mortal realm that is. Adam and his wife Lilith shared the beautiful paradise. Despite being “married”, the two didn’t always enjoy each other's company. However, at the same time, the only company they had was each other. Minus the archangel Saint Lucifer who often came down to chat with Lilith. Something about him left a bad taste in Adam’s mouth. Recently, Lilith had only wanted to be with Lucifer. Adam was a bit jealous to say the least. Who wouldn’t be? You and your partner have a beautiful home to live in together and all they want to do is talk to some goofy angel.

Today was another one of those days where the two had a disagreement and parted ways for a bit. It was always over the littlest things. This particular time it had been about Lilith never wanting to spend any time with him. Adam got fed up and walked a good distance away to be by himself. He found a nice spot in the shade under some trees by a pond. The area surrounding the pond and trees was littered with various flowers. Sitting down, he sighs. He closes his eyes for a bit and only opens them again when he realizes that a duck has made itself comfortable in his lap. “What do you want?” He glared at the duck. Lucifer often spent time rambling on about how much he liked ducks and even gave Lilith her own duckling, which she named Petal. Seeing this duck only reminded him of the two. “You and your little duck friends are always all over the place.” The duck looked back at him, cocking its head and quacking in response. Adam chuckles. “Am I really so desperate for someone to talk to that I’m conversing with a duck?” He gives it a pat on the head.

A gentle breeze blew through the trees and flower field. The duck fluffed his feathers to keep warm. Adam smiled seeing how peaceful and happy it seemed all comfy in his lap. A flower slowly drifted through the air and landed on the ducks back. Picking up the flower, Adam smelt it. He isn’t quite sure what type of flower it is, but it certainly smells nice. Maybe he’ll give it to Lilith as an apology for-

“-’dDSHh-EH!!” His newly found duck friend jerks its head up and looks at him. “Sorry buddy,” he smiles. “Didn’t mean to wake yo..” He paused for a brief moment, tilting his head back slightly. “hEDd’shoo!!” The duck quacks a few times. Whether it be sympathy or annoyance isn’t clear. Nonetheless, it remains on his lap. As the wind continues to blow, pollen from the surrounding trees and flowers drifts through the air. “HDd’tchoo! heEH’d-shEH!!” He rubs his nose, trying to relieve the itchy tickling sensation. He hadn’t been allergic to any of the flowers in the garden before. Maybe this was simply God's way of telling him to stop being jealous. Regardless, he was allergic to the ones currently around him. “ehH-!! hEH!! Heh-!! Ugh.” Yep. This was karma. At least that’s the only explanation he could come up with. His newly found duck friend shakes off some of the pollen that had collected on his feathers. Despite turning to face the other direction and holding his breath, the irritant still makes its way into his system. “hHED-shUH!! hIH heEH-!! Bringing his hand to his face, he holds his nose shut to try and keep from making too much of a disturbance despite being alone (minus the duck). “-ptschh! ‘ktchs!! -dschs!! -tschh!!”

Upon realizing that refusing to let them out was getting him nowhere, he gave up trying to keep quiet. “hED’ch-EHH!! HdD-tcsch!! Eh-t’choo!! I hihh!! ca-ah!!n’t st-stop sne-EH!! hHE’TSCH-UH!!” The force of the last sneeze leaves him with thick snot pouring out from his nose and running down his face. “Eugh”, he grimaces at the thought of what he could possibly look like if someone were to be watching him. A loud gurgling sound is made as he attempts to snort back what he can of the snot back into his nose. Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, he absent mindedly glances down at the grass. It is only then that he notices a red and white corn snake. In a panic, he quickly grabs the duck, stands up and kicks the snake. We don’t recommend doing this under normal circumstances. “Get lost!!” The snake goes flying back in the direction of which it came. Sighing, he checks the area around him for any other snakes before sitting back down.

“Lucifer? Is everything alright? I thought I heard someone shouting.” Lilith wanders through the forest for a bit before finding the red and white corn snake draped over a tree branch like someone's laundry left out to air dry. “Lucifer!”

“I think I may have sssscared him a bit. Oopssss.”

She rushes to take him out of the tree and sets him on the ground. Turning back into an archangel, Lucifer smiles. His hair is a bit messed up but other than that he seems fine. “He is a short way down there. He’s sitting with a duck on his lap.” Lilith smiles. “Thank you, Lucifer.” With a small puff of smoke, the archangel turns into a small dove. Adam is much less likely to be scared that way. Flying alongside Lilith, the two find Adam sitting under the tree. “Adam, dear?” Adam looks up at his wife, smiling. “Hey.” As she sits next to him, he holds out the flower. “I snf wanted to give this to you.” He tucks it into her hair. Lilith giggles. “Thank you Adam.” She kisses him on the cheek. “I thought you’d like it. I know purple is your fa-..heh..hEH-Choo!! eEH’ShOO!! Hed’DCHOO!” He turns away to keep from sneezing on her. Laughing, she wraps him in a hug. “Thank you Adam. I love it.” Adam blushes. “I’m snff glad you li-iIH!!-ke i-IIHT’sSH-Eh!!” Lilith kisses him again, this time on the mouth. “Bless you, love.” The dove lands on Liliths shoulder and she looks at him, nodding. He flies without their field of vision before returning to his angel form and going back to heaven.

God forbid Adam slip up and hurt Lilith. Lucifer now has something he can use against him. But that won’t be necessary. Angels are merciful after all. Right?

#haz//bin//ho//tel//#hazbin snz #simper fics #simper writes #Ad//am #Li//ith #Luci//fer #snzfic #snzblr #snzkink

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silvergolddraco28 · 2 months

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Falling Star - LMK x Hazbin Hotel

Open prompt Version 2

PS- looking for a Hazbin partner does not have to be very knowledgeable about LMK/Journey to the West!

Prompt:

What would happen if Sun Wukong ended up in Lucifer’s domain just before Lucifer sets out to Charlie’s hotel?

*”Monkey King look out!”*

*”Kid grab Mei and get as her away as you can! This spell is too unstable!”*

*”Die Sun Wukong!”*

Crystallized red and gold eyes snapped openlooking about the blood red sky before instinctively coiling his warm golden magic around him like a ball. He was falling too fast to summon something softer than this. His somewhat clouded mind saw the large city of red with a childish star pattern within a circle. A single question was on his mind.

‘Where am I?’

()()()()

Several minutes before

The air felt charged with a spark that had everyone within the blood-red city on edge and holding their metaphorical breath. Sparks of a deep golden color shined in the sky from above in the very center of the crimson pentagram swirling and building with energy before exploding out creating a stylized golden sun with eight clear sections of color. At the same time, an unknown pressure pressed down onto the sprawling city drawing the attention of every soul within the Pentagram.

That's all for now!

Until next time!

PSS comments and reblog are my bread and butter! Please feed me!

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oloreandil · 10 months

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hello i saw you talking a bit in the tags of the cane post you reblogged from me hehe, you mentioned you might make a longer post about the use of canes for balance, figured id send an ask so if u wanted u could put that in the answer. im really interested to learn more about it — im currently writing a character who uses a cane for balance reasons and i might have to use one someday since i live somewhere that gets gotdamn icy in the winter, so im interested to hear how best practices differ from using a cane for injury/pain

hi ! very happy to infodump about (my) cane usage, after this post. i'm adding this one which has incredible advice on tons of mobility aids. prefacing this with "ymmv, varied sources help because everyone does different things", as usual ^^

cane usage can be about distance or span of time you need to walk / stand up. this depends on why you need the cane and if certain situations trigger it more

for me, walking is better than standing up still, because i'm not weighing down on any body part long enough to cause pain. leaning on the cane hurts even if i switch hands regularly. crutches (especially forearm crutches) are more efficient, but not indefinitely

for long visits and similarly tiring activities (lots of still time + starting / stopping movement), a wheelchair is way more useful. otherwise the heterogeneity of the movement will hurt in itself

canes are a huge help with footing if the terrain slopes, gets uneven or is a little unpredictable. however if the terrain is muddy, extremely crumbly / cracked, or slippery, you may need tip attachments to make the grip better

you need more space to move around, and have to be careful not to knock into people / objects when you move and turn, but poor spatial awareness or muscle control will mean you still bump into things frequently

i lean on everything if i'm inside and don't have my cane ready, if i need something stable which doesn't depend on my ability to hold it, or if my legs / arms are giving out

the rubber tip reduces the aftershock of the stick slamming into the ground, especially if you have trouble measuring your strength. else, the tapping will genuinely hurt your arm + shoulder and also everyone in a five mile radius will hear you walking around

the handle needs to fit your hand (larger hand = larger handle etc). there's slide-on handles to help reduce the strain if closing your hand tight hurts. ataxia / tremors can make you drop your cane or clutch it even tighter and needs to be accounted for (softer grip, wrist strap)

any new mobility device is gonna hurt in the beginning as your nerves get used to constant pressure in a new shape. this was worse for my crutch than for my cane, possibly because the crutch came first. wheelchairs hurt in unexpected ways but i have less experience

when you stop using the cane, your hand can hurt from the sudden change in pressure on your nerve, and the rest of your body too as the limbs readjust. if you have paresthesia (clinical "pins and needles" basically), holding the cane can make it worse. i don't know how orthotics would interact with that

misc

foldable canes are very good because they can fit in your bag, instead of falling over or stabbing you in the chest when the vehicle suddenly stops. it also means you don't forget them if you have to leave quick and you're distracted

me holding my beloved foldable cane and showing the opening swoop (my favourite part). ID in alt text

using a cane slows you down... usually. the energy of a character will still affect their speed. i have always walked like a maniac which means i clack-clack my way along, out of breath + tired at the end. i can't run anymore though, so catching up with / escaping someone ranges from difficult to impossible

hidden features of the cane would work best if they don't impede its use (no additional weight, no need to take it apart / off the ground): storage of data, small items like needles, something that incorporates the tapping of the cane or its material...

stairs are difficult. how i do it is put cane two steps above me, and repeat every time i reach that step (less arm movements, easier on my shoulder). i have read vastly different methods, so my takeaway is everyone has their rhythm and the amount of training to find what works / focus implementing it will vary. brain fog, emotional deregulation and physical pain set you back

#palant1r #olorea answers #if you have any questions on sth i didn't expand on don't hesitate !!#this still got very very long and the Tired might make this incoherent... typical haz behaviour. it will happen again #writing ref #disabled writer #txt #img #vid

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wri0thesley · 1 year

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hello friends can i. can i ask for a little validation tonight. can you tell me that my writing is okay and you like having me around. i am not having a great one and i. yeah.

#tbd #nat.txt #i haven’t been separated from haz for this long in years and it’s hard #it sounds silly but yeah my mentally ill ass actually has gotten used to having a real person around to do things like pat my head when i #write a scary email and the Alone Self Doubt is kicking in a little bit #sorry I won’t type too much in the tags but. oof.

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randomingoftherandomness · 8 months

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Hello! I love your writing! I was wondering if I could have the bros in a tight situation with a BAMF Yuanzhi and a stunned/very impressed Shangjue

A/N: If I may, I am going to take a slight teeeeeensy weensy twist here. A deviation. A happy gander down a grove. :>

I call this one “Yuanzhi and his very terrible, horrible, no-good date”

—

Yuanzhi had been looking forward to a nice evening in town with his Gege. A nice dinner at the restaurant that just opened up, have a stroll together by the water, maybe check out some of the little stalls in the night market, and if he’s very good, he could wheedle a little gift from Gege to remember the experience by.

And if he’s extra good, maybe he can convince Gege that they could stay the night in town. Just the two of them.

Instead, what he gets is a bunch of idiots crashing through the roof of the restaurant, trying to kill them, and ruining a perfectly nice plate of steamed pomfret.

Once those pests have been dealt with, Shangjue gege immediately gets caught up with making sure the restaurant is compensated adequately. Not hard to do when you’re part of the de facto organisation running the place, but Shangjue likes being thorough.

They try to have a stroll, but that is promptly interrupted by a girl making eyes at Gege. Not that she ever stood a chance, what with Gege having his gaze solely on the path in front of him, but Yuanzhi’s mood sours even more nonetheless.

By the time they get to the market, Yuanzhi is just waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

For that train of thought, he is promptly rewarded with three fresh idiots with swords coming at them. Shangjue gege immediately takes the fight with two to the rooftops while Yuanzhi is left to deal with his own.

“Looks like the Gong family will be holding a funeral really soon,” one says. Yuanzhi nicknames this one Sour Breath. If he was looking for a response, he’s not getting one.

Yuanzhi tightens his grip on his sword and jumps right into the attack. Sour Breath gets a good slash three moves in and while it stings, it doesn’t stop Yuanzhi from pushing forth to impale him on his blade.

“Ge!”

He kicks off, rushing to Shangjue’s side. Logically, he knows his Gege has it handled. He’s one of the best fighters in the family after all, but Yuanzhi is pent up and full of rage.

This seems like a good outlet for it.

He ignores the wetness seeping into the fabric on his shoulder and bodily drags the two currently pinning his Gege down. Without sparing a second, he immediately whips his sword through the air and it finds its mark in the squishy belly of one of them.

“Behind you!”

Yuanzhi barely catches the blow in time with his gauntlet. Kicking back, he moves his body into a roll and sticks the third idiot with a paralysing shot.

They’ll need to keep at least one of them alive.

“You’ve improved,” Shangjue gege says as he is thing the third idiot up for the town guards to drag away. “I’m impressed.”

While Yuanzhi would have normally preened under the glow of a praise from his Gege, he’s just honestly sad and done with the whole night. Checking his shoulder, satisfied the blade he was cut with wasn’t poisoned, he tosses the idiot to the guards.

One of them will have to come collect their captive in the morning but that’s something for when the sun rises.

“Yuanzhi didi, are you alright?” Gege reaches out for him, taking him by the wrist. Yuanzhi gives him a wan smile.

“I’m fine,” He admits. “Just a little sad that tonight didn’t go as smoothly as I thought it would.”

At his response, the corners of Shangjue gege’s lips twitch. “And how would that have looked like?”

Yuanzhi ponders on the question. Then, as softly as he can in a crowd of people but still be heard, he shyly says, “I thought that if it was good, I could have asked you for a gift.”

Shangjue gege chuckles. Rubbing his thumb over the inside of his wrist, he lets go, looks around until he finds a stall. Yuanzhi doesn’t see which one he goes to, but when he returns he picks up Yuanzhi’s hand and slips a red braided bracelet on him. Tenderly adjusting the strings to better fit him, Shangjue lifts it, pressing his lips to cord and skin.

“For the record, you never have to hesitate asking me for gifts. You could ask me for the moon and I’ll get it for you. You never have to be good for me, you just need to be my Yuanzhi didi.”

Yuanzhi flushes a deep pink. Face going warm at that unexpected declaration.

“Come on,” Shangjue gege says, threading their fingers together. “Let’s get your wound treated. I think I have some Nv Er Hong left in my room that we can share.”

“Mn!”

#my journey to you #my journey to you fic #gong shangjue x gong yuanzhi #gab writes stuff #it’s four in the morning and I should be asleep but I’m here writing a fic instead #good life choices. I haz them

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itisaterriblelove · 4 months

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“I have to get out of here.” Samantha Powell’s voice was shaky with unshed tears. She could only hope that her date didn’t hear it over the tremor of the music and the rowdiness of the kids around them. Lennon Shephard squinted, leaning close to her as if he hadn’t heard what she said, waiting for her to repeat herself while the bass of some rap song thumped in the background.

Sam’s mouth filled with bile. She felt like she was going to be sick on everyone and everything. Desperate, she leaned closer and yelled louder. “I have to get out of here.”

But if Lenny heard her that time his response was interrupted by someone else grabbing her arm and spinning her around. The lights, the noise, the people, the dancing… All of it was too much. Samantha squinted at the interrupter, trying to catch her bearings.

“Sam!” DK Stewart. The absolute last person that she wanted to see—the one she was trying to avoid, and of course he’d sniffed her out. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, and whatever he was going to say to her was something that she did not want to hear.

This was a nightmare. It was a living, breathing, monster of a nightmare.

Senior Prom. She should have known that the night would be a piece of shit, every single media outlet in the world seemed to agree that proms were for disasters. How many bad teen movies had she seen warning her of exactly that? And now she was living one. A bad teen movie.

“Dance with me,” DK commanded, without so much as glancing at Lenny before pulling Sam closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist and draped his shadow over her. Domino Krew was more than a head taller than Samantha, so she had to rest her cheek against his chest. It was a comfortable fit, she couldn’t deny that, even in her current state of panic.

It wasn’t a slow song but DK moved her with an unhurried sway, as if time were at his personal command. He smelled like beer, soap, and his cologne, which left a warm feeling building in the pit of Sam’s stomach as she danced with him. She hadn’t wanted this; she couldn’t stand the thought of losing it, either. Sam lifted her hands between them, resting them uneasily on DK’s shoulders, creating a slight barrier between them as they moved.

“DK,” she warned, her voice loud enough over the music but still sounding breathless somehow. “Don’t.” Sam glanced uneasily over her shoulder to gauge Lenny’s reaction, but he’d diverted his attention back to his group of friends. A fact which actually annoyed her; he was her date, after all. Her boyfriend. Shouldn’t he be at least a little jealous?

Clearly he knew there was no reason to be. Like Sam stood a chance with someone who was totally and completely spoken for, anyway. And totally and completely oblivious, too, of everything she’d ever felt for him. Lenny knew it better than anyone.

“You owe me,” DK reminded her. It was true. Sam had promised him a dance and she hadn’t forgotten. She hadn’t thought he would snatch her away from Lenny, though.

Or that he would hold her this close.

She tried not to think about it. But then he said, “Sam,” while tilting his head down, so that his breath ghosted across her jaw as he spoke into her ear. She tensed while her heart began to seize.

Samantha swallowed, twisting her hazel eyes to meet with his gaze. His brown eyes were soft, gleaming with happiness that broke her heart.

“This is the best night of my life.” He whispered it like a secret. Then he kissed her cheek so she pushed away from him, breaking his hold of her, and stepped back. Shaking, Sam lifted a hand to run through the red strands of her hair, undoing the knots with her fingers.

DK wouldn’t stop smiling. He shook his head at her, taking in her reaction, and rolled his soft-brown eyes. “Go ahead then,” he nodded over her shoulder to where she’d left Lennon standing. The way he said it was like she was being ridiculous; like she couldn’t tear herself away from her date long enough to talk to him. Sam frowned, but didn’t fight it because she had to get away from DK.

“Tiff and I are heading out anyway.” The music had changed so it was easier for her to hear him, though Sam wished that it hadn’t been. The last person she wanted to think about right now was Tiffany Jones.

She and Tiffany were not friends any more. Not after tonight. Sam felt like maybe they hadn’t been for a long time now. She swallowed, feeling the bile rise up in her throat. Without responding, she spun away from him and made a hasty retreat.

She didn’t even bother to look for Lenny. Her head was pounding even faster than her heart, and she knew that if she didn’t get out of there right then—at that very second—she was going to explode. The mental visual of her in pieces all over the dance floor of the Senior Prom was not something that Sam relished the idea of realizing.

She ran.

She didn’t look back.

#fng #friday night girl #prologue #891 words #my art #my writing #i drew this on my digital tablet like some years ago ooops #i didn't even feel like redrawing it #idk why i'm randomly posting this #just bc i am #so #here #haz this #sam x dk #i'mma post more forever girl soon #i swear

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izzyzalezbian · 10 months

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Lately I've been thinking more and more about Sonic and Tails, because they are The Brothers Ever, and one thought that has just been rattling around in my brain is the fact that it was the chaos emeralds that showed Sonic Westside Island.

Like, they wanted Sonic and Tails to meet. To fight together. To become friends, brothers even. Why else would they show Sonic Westside Island?

And I'm pretty sure it's cannon that the Chaos Emeralds were trying to pair them off (don't quote me on it though- understanding Sonic cannon is a feat I've given up on accomplishing).

So, I don't really think that chaos emeralds would let Tails die, if that makes sense. Like, if they wanted Sonic to meet Tails so bad that they literally showed him Westside Island and then really didn't talk to him much after that (again- don't quote me on this, bc im really not certain), then I doubt they'd just let Tails die. In their eyes, he's probably still has work to do. Blue hedgehogs to keep alive and reeled in.

And- I know this isn't really doesn't count, but I'm still gonna bring it up- in Sonic Adventure 2 (maybe? haven't played in a while) whenever Tails dies he just... Floats back onto the screen. And, yes, obviously that's not the chaos emeralds bringing him back to make sure Sonic still has Tails, it's a cool thought.

All of this to say, I've been thinking about Tails croaking in some fight, and the Chaos emeralds, obviously not happy with this, rewind time so Sonic can keep it from happening. Only for Sonic to fail again, and again. Effectively, a time loop, where Sonic's stuck watching his brother die over and over again, all the while trying to find a way to stop it.

Obviously there'd be a happy ending- Tails is my boy, I'm not keeping him dead. But Sonic would definitely have to figure out whatever moral I decide to tack onto him.

Idk, just an idea. Definitely going to work on it a little bit more, but I do hope to get this one written out soon.

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #unbreakable bond #i was going to tag this wholsome sonic and tails wednesday but in no way is this wholesome 💀#I've been obsessed with time loops for a bit #ive always wanted to write something out for one- but ive never really had a good set of charcters for it #then BOOM sonic and tails hit me in the face #tw death #izzy ramblez #izzy haz ideaz

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zensations35 · 2 months

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Don't Call Me A Cabbage (Haz/bin)

Aahhhii okay here's my humorous/sweet/semi-angsty Caretaker Alastor with sick Charlie fic for @onetrickponi who has been just a doll for us all with constant Haz/bin content 🤤 (Al does get sick in this bc I have no self control 🤣) And here's the sugar on the cream: Poni drew some art for this fic! You'll find it below~ Eeeee Enjoy!

There is a concerned buzz to Alastor’s static today as he peers down at the pink flush veining from Charlie’s cheek circles. “You feel ill?”

Snf “Yeah, I think so…” she uses her whole arm to rub her small black nose, scrunching the bridge and letting out a whine.

Alastor sighs and leans next to her headboard. “What are your symptoms?”

“Umb,” she holds out her hand and begins ticking things off, “Stuffy ndose, sndeezing, sore throat, headache…”

“Do you have a fever?” he asks.

“I…I dunno…”

Alastor pops toward the box of medical supplies she keeps in her room--it was a silent consensus that no one could be trusted with this stuff in a public room.

He digs around for a thermometer and waits next to her. She looks up at him and he gestures to her mouth, open up, come now.

She does and he tucks it under her tongue, not comfortably either. She swallows a wince of pain as she waits for it to beep. Once it does, Alastor looks at the number and hums. “I see.”

Charlie stretches to peek at it but he’s already moving away, sanitizing the edge and groping around in the box for other things.

“What’d it say?” she asks.

“You are certainly ill,” he says.

She twists her mouth in a frown. Wow. Okay. She scrubs at her nose again, fingers curled into a tight fist, “Ihh hnn-KS’IEhwww!” a fork of flame wends its way around her wrist and both her and Alastor’s eyes widen at it.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh dear,” Alastor spins on his heel and rummages in a closet, whisking out a fireproof blanket, silvery fabric glinting in the light as he hauls it over to Charlie and wraps her in it from waist to head.

“There we are,” he smirks at her, “Comfortable?”

Charlie gives him a wan smile. No…

“Yep!” she lies cheerily.

He nods and sets a can of emergency fire extinguisher spray on her bedside table with a plink before manifesting his cane and tapping it on the plush pink carpet. “Now, you get some rest while I fetch you--”

“Wait!” Charlie worms around in the surprisingly well burrito’d blanket. “What about the hotel? Everyone will--hieea--IEK’SHH!!” this time the blanket smothers the flames before they can cause any serious harm to anything around them.

Alastor beams. “Not to worry, my dear, I will take care of it.” He gives her a goodbye pat on the head, the blanket crackling beneath his palm, and he strolls out of the room.

Well, at least this gives him a chance to catch up on things he’s missed since his ‘absence’. He waves a hand and a chair grows from a cloud of green smoke. Alastor perches upon it, crossing a leg and pulls out a newspaper from the void to read.

Four newspapers later, footsteps press along the hall. Alastor’s ears flick and his eyes flit up to see Angel Dust approaching Charlie’s door. He closes his paper and folds it up into a perfect square, shifting to close in on the spider demon.

Before Angel can reach the handle of Charlie’s door, Alastor’s cane THUNKs the carpet, almost chopping his toe off.

“Excuse me,” Alastor’s neck cricks as he stands fluidly. “What are you doing here?”

Angel’s gold tooth glints, annoyance flashing across his face. “I’m gonna see Charlie. Whatcha got a monopoly on her room now?”

“Yes.”

Angel blinks at him. Then shakes his head, hair flopping. “Whateva, out of my way.”

Alastor glides in front of the door, smile standing firm. “Charlie is occupied at the moment. You may bring your inquiries to me.”

Angel folds his lower arms, “What, you’re in charge?”

Alastor’s dials amp slightly. Well, Charlie didn’t not put him in charge. And with her angry girlfriend gone on a frivolous mission, who else could feasibly hold this place together, really?

“Yes, I am.” He says, voice silky static. “What can I help you with, pastel one?”

Angel props an upper arm on his hip, considering. “Alright...fine. We need a referee o’ sorts.”

Alastor opens his arm, “Lead the way.”

At the bar, Husk and Sir Pentious are glaring at each other looking equally pissed off, and in the middle of a heated argument.

“What seems to be the problem?” Alastor asks, in a semi-bored tone.

Sir Pentious fans his hood angrily, pointing a bent claw at the overgrown kitten. “He called me slimy! I am not slimy--amphibians are slimy! My scales,” he wiggles his hands down the length of his slithery form, “are cool and dry. I do not need to be kept moist--”

“Eiyeg!” Husk makes a disgusted face. “Don’t call yourself moist.”

“I said I do not need to be moist--”

“BEH!!” Husk makes a vulgar gesture, and Pentious rattles back angrily.

Alastor groans, the sound strumming tinnitus into the group’s ears, causing them all to cease the argument.

“Well,” the Radio Demon rotates his wrist indifferently, “it sounds like the snake man knows more about snakes than the non snake demons. If they say something incorrect about your anatomy, just threaten them with disembowelment and move on.”

“But!” Pentious stiffens anxiously, “we’re supposed to stop being mean!” He spreads his arms, “How else are we to be redeemed?”

Alastor growls, tapping the point of his claw to his chin. “Very well then,” he shrugs, eyes fluttering with disinterest, “ignore the fools for the ignorant cabbages they are.”

Husk’s fur stands as high as its ends will allow, tail whisking left to right. “Did you just call me a fuckin’ cabbage??!”

“Now, off you are.” Alastor shoos them. “Enjoy my good advice and quit your grousing.” He doesn’t bother waiting to see if they actually do stop grousing. His job is complete.

Alastor, having returned to the hallway outside Charlie’s room, basks in the afterglow of being on the button, as always.

His ear twitches when a piercing sound breaks the door’s seal. “Hiat’ESSiew!!”

Hm. Obviously her room needs soundproofing. Proper soundproofing. Otherwise the entire hotel will find out about her ailment. She shouldn’t let her underlings see her weak. No, no, Alastor will help with that.

He slips inside and begins fussing around, tossing green and black magic around the room until it settles into the bones of the wall, absorbing into the plaster.

“What'd you just do?” she asks.

“I have soundproofed your bedroom for you!” Alastor thrusts his chin proudly, fist pressed to his chest.

“But…” Charlie nibbles her lip with a fang, “how will you hear mbe? If I ndeed you?” her words are syrupy and lethargic. Poor dear.

Alastor waves his upturned finger, smoke cloying the air as he manifests twin speakers above the bed.

“There we go.” He snaps his fingers and a smaller radio appears in his hand. “Now I can hear you and you can hear me.”

And no one will know you are sick and weak…

“Uhh…cool…” her teeth fan in a forced smile. “Thangks Alast-ih!” her fingers web her lips, small pitchy gasps breaking through her throat, “ehh-ieeh! AEX'SHiieewwWW!!” Embers flutter the blanket around her and she shivers, teeth chittering into a nose scrunching sniffle.

His smile drops a tick and he reaches for her. Something comforting…what should he--

BANG BANG BANG!

Charlie jumps and both of their heads swivel to the door. Alastor’s eyes darken. What the fuckbucket is going on now?

“What was that?” she whimpers.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he murmurs and dissolves into shadow, reappearing in front of a stunned Angel and Pentious quibbling in one of the rooms.

“What is it now?” Alastor growls.

Angel snarls, gold tooth winking in the dim light. “He,” the spider points at the snake, “stole my sandwich!”

Pentious gasps, more of a squeak really, and clutches his overripe chest, “Your sandwich?! That was my sandwich! I--”

“Liar!” Angel is yelling now. “I fuckin made this sandwich! With my own three hands!”

“Oh, now you are flaunting your many limbs at--”

“S̸̖̯̖͊ile̷̠͗ń��͕̹̇̅͝c̵̐͝e̴͕͙̅!”

The word reverbrates into the empty air. Both sinners look at Alastor, lips thin and firm.

“Since neither of you can go a single hour without bickering,” Alastor snaps his fingers and the sandwich vanishes from the table. Both men whine with indignation as Alastor unfurls his hand with a plate, the sandwich fully formed atop.

“Now, neither of you gets to eat it.”

“Hey! What rule says that?!”

“The ‘fuck around, find out’ rule.” The Radio Demon ignores the rest of their protests and brings the sandwich back to Charlie.

When he presents it to her, she is quite pleased.

“Mmm~! Wow, this is good! Did Pentious make this? It tastes like the ones he makes.”

Alastor doesn’t answer but he files the information for later.

“I am glad you app--”

He pauses as her cheek curls with a tiny snarl, “Hiek’ETSHFFWW!” She dips into her elbow, mangling the sandwich with her twisting fist.

“Hm,” Alastor almost frowns. She doesn’t seem to be improving much. “I deem you in need of rest and perhaps medication.”

She snuffles, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. “We dodt habv bedicide…”

“Yes, well, you leave that to me.” He spins on a dime and uses a flick of his wrist to dim the lights. “Rest, my dear. I will return shortly.”

In classic hell fashion, as soon as he decided to leave, rain started pouring. It slices down around him, shushing through his ears as he drags himself across the barren streets. The downpour is oddly unpleasant--it doesn’t normally bother Alastor. But tonight it’s cold.

By the time his errands are done, the chill has settled straight into the marrow of his bones.

Wracked with shivers, he uses the back entrance, dodging the glow of the television in the main room.

A sibilating flick of his fingers evaporates most of the water and he enters Charlie’s room barely before daybreak to administer the medicine.

She’s already awake when he enters--an early riser, like himself. And from the sound of her breath, he’s arrived perhaps too late--she needed this remedy long ago.

“EKFSH’DK!” Her sneezing is growing more raw and ragged, scraping her throat and causing her to devolve into coughing fits. Rgh. If only he weren’t being pulled into helping the wretched sinners with their trivial matters.

He jerks the door shut before her sneezes can wake the rest of the hotel.

“Aaaalastor?” her voice crumbles his name, “did you go outside?”

“Just popped out to fetch a remedy for you.” He cracks open the seal and pours the vile liquid into a tiny cup. Charlie does a poor job of hiding her revulsion.

She still smiles when she takes the medication, which makes him proud at least. As he’s tucking the medicine back into the box, a wingbeat of irritation flutters his features. “Ih٨ـfff…” He presses the heel of his palm against his nose. Oh fuck no. Goddamn rain, goddamn cold, fuck. Not here, not now not--

“Alastor?” he hears her cracked call. Fuck. She needs something and his nose still itches. He scrubs it with the back of his wrist, fangs sawing each other to the quick of his gums.

“One m٨ـmoment…”

One. Just one. Get it out of his system.

“Hvv-YZZ٨ـZ!” his ears flatten and puff out, finishing the sneeze with a shiver before he sniffles and brushes a wrinkle from his jacket.

There. He’s fine. He hurries back to Charlie’s side, hoping she didn’t hear--

“What was that noise?” she asks, fingers lightly crimping the blanket up to her chest.

His heart trips on his tongue and he clears his throat to settle it. “Nothing my dear. A hiccup in the speakers.” He turns his smile to her and clasps his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?”

She blinks her bruised eyes up at him, voice high and sandpapery, “I’m hungry…”

“Then I shall make you food. I make a mean salt and cabbage soup for flu season!”

“Ehhh…sounds…great…” Charlie gives him a thumbs up.

In the kitchen, he finds most of the ingredients he needs. He has to use butter instead of lard (fucking heathens…) He opens the cabinets, glowing eyes casting the ceramic bowls and cheap plastic spice containers in a pink hue. His claws encircle several choices and he adds them to his concoction.

He doesn’t measure--no, he does what his family taught him: scent, taste, sight. “Eyeball it”. Cooking is an art!

So, into the soup the ingredients go, of varying magnitudes. Alastor tastes and sniffs until he’s satisfied. However…something that doesn’t normally happen when he’s cooking starts…his nose begins to run.

He lifts a knuckle to quell the itch, but even a few rubs doesn’t abate it.

He steps out of the steam, but the sensation surprised him so much, (he was cooking for heaven’s sake!) hitches barely began to flutter in his throat before he jerked to the side.

“Hp٨ـZZF!” He catches one in his wrist, neck crooked to the right, but only half a breath is allowed before his shoulders shake into a second, “Yzﮩـﮩ٨ـzZZV̵͕̳̬̽̉̃̽F̵́̑͝F̷̖͎̋̀͛̎!”

“Oh great,” a deep tenor behind him makes the Radio Demon startle, but not enough to make him jump. He has enough sense to snake his handkerchief out of his pocket and dab his face before Husker can see anything untoward.

“Hm?” Alastor buzzes back.

Husker roots around in the fridge for the carton of milk, “Now whoever eats that is gonna get sick.”

Alastor chuffs, “You needn’t worry about that.”

Husker straightens, flicking the door shut with his tail. He cocks his head when he sees Alastor’s profile, his left ear twitching. “Have you even slept lately?”

“I said not to worry, Husker.”

The bartender’s lips press firmly together, considering. Then he snorts, taking his milk and exiting the kitchen with a, “Fuck it.”

Soup steaming, yet cooled to appropriate consumption temperature, Alastor serves it to Charlie in bed. As soon as her mouth closes around the aromatic liquid, her face scrunches, eyes watering with saline. “Mgk!” Her throat bobs with a thick swallow, and her palm thrusts the base of her triangled nose. “Ah-iyee! Ouff!”

She frees her other hand to fan her tear-streaking face, “Th-thpithy!! Hih--” her teeth notch over her spice-baked tongue, “Aik’tzPF!” her hands fly up to tent the spray as she jackknifes into her knees. “EiighSHP!”

Alastor’s ears flatten and he rescues the bowl before it can tump over from her wracking movements.

“I…I didn’t intend for…” he hesitates, a chisel grating at his chest.

“No, no, ndo!!” she snuffles, waving a hand about blindly fumbling for the tissues as her sealed eyes continue to leak. “Don’t be-hih- ESKieww! S-sorry!”

Alastor struggles to keep his smile in place as he grabs the box and hands it to her.

“Thangk you aughk…” she quickly blows and wipes her face, dabbing her eyes so she can see again. They’re rather red and veined now and the guilt gnaws further into Alastor’s stomach.

He stands swiftly, soup slopping over the rim of the bowl. “I will get you something else--”

“No!” Charlie grabs his arm and his eyes dart to her, ears erect as if he were being attacked. “It was good!” she continues, oblivious to his discomfort. “Really! I’ll eat it--”

Alastor feels the chains on his heart weaken, just a smidge. Ill and weak, and she still just wants to make the entire fucking world happy. He takes his free hand and pats hers, using it to shift her grip on his arm gently.

“No, my dear. There is no need for that. Relax. I will find you something to suit your needs.”

When he arrives back in the kitchen, Angel Dust is sitting at the bar counter, spooning a pink bowl of…Alastor’s soup…into his mouth.

Alastor’s horns instantly thicken and grow. “What are you do٨ـing?!”

Angel’s eyes widen at the rage in his tone. “Whoa, chill out man, I’m just eatin’.”

Alastor slams his bowl down, tiny fractures spiderwebbing the ceramic, as his features darken. “That food was not meant for you.” He moves to reach for Angel’s bowl but Angel pulls it closer to himself.

“Hey, dude! There was plenty! Who made you King of the Kitchen?”

Alator’s claws begin to slick with shadows, “You don’t understand, you fucking imbecile. I made that soup.”

“And that makes you the boss of it, yea?” Angel dips his spoon into the bowl and exaggeratedly sticks it into his mouth, “Mmmmm~♡!”

Alastor snarls, “Rrrhh! You f̵̛̜̯̲̼͍̀͆ú̵̦̹c̴̗̭̲̑͗̎͗̐͛̕k̷̡̔̌̿̋̃͘ͅị̸̤̱̯͆͌̉̀͑̃̆n̵̻̟͕͍͑g̵̨̗̭̩̣̮̱͐̈́̂͛!!”

“Oh yeah~” Angel continues licking the spoon and moaning until he’s practically deep throating it.

“Stop it right fucking now before I rip your throat apart to--”

“Hey!” Husker’s voice freezes the spoon halfway down Angel’s throat, both men’s eyes flicking to the hackled bartender. “What the royal fuck are you two doing?” His gaze locks onto Angel who un-swallows the spoon. Alastor also simmers down, features retracting back to normal and he straightens his bowtie.

“Angel, why are you sexually antagonizing the asexual?”

“I ain’t. He got pissy cuz I ate some fuckin soup!”

Alastor lets out a keening laugh, “I did not cook this for you.”

Husk pinches the bridge of his nose, “Jesus fucking crackers.” He sucks in a breath, “alright,” he snaps his fingers at the spider, “Angel, quit eating the fucking soup.”

“But--”

“What? Is it so damn good you can’t live without it?”

Angel’s mouth opens, but his eyes slide to Alastor whose smugness keeps dialing up the longer Angel’s silence lasts. Oh he is not paying that asshole any compliments.

“Fine! Whateva!” he shoves the bowl away and throws himself off the stool, storming away with his arms folded over his chest fluff.

Alastor victoriously starts cleaning the dishes but Husk speaks over his shoulder, voice a low half grumble.

“You should’ve just told him why you didn’t want him eating it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Husk snorts, “Fine. Pretend you don’t actually give a shit about people. But it’s gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

Alastor’s teeth click shut, ignoring Husk until the feathered cat leaves the room.

He knows nothing.

Nothing…

He gets the new soup prepared and with no interruptions, brings it to Charlie. He barely has time to place it at her bedside table before some fucking asshole knocks at the door! How does she deal with their constant bemoaning??

All but vibrating with annoyance, Alastor opens the door to find Niffty. Well, at least it’s someone he likes.

“Niffty, my dear, how may I help you?”

“I just killed the beetle queen!” she beams.

“Ah, you did very well!”

“Do I get a gold star?” she asks, hands clasped in front of her apron, mouth in a slit of a smile.

“Ahmm…?”

“Charlie gives us gold stars for good behavior. I want one.”

“Mmm, very well.” Alastor closes the door behind him. This shouldn’t take long and it’s only Niffty. He won’t have to interact with anyone else. “Where does Charlie keep the gold stars?”

Niffty taps a letter opener against her razor teeth. “I dunno.”

He shrugs and manifests one--very large and very shiny--handing it to her in her tiny arms. Her eye bulges and she grins all the way into her hairline.

“Ooooh, I’m the best!!”

“Of course you are.”

“Hey!”

Alastor cringes when he hears another voice. It doesn’t fucking matter who it belongs to--he doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“Why does she get a bigger star than us?” Angel asks.

“Yesss!” Pentious adds, somehow they’ve all been summoned by pettiness. “I worked hard for mine! Why does Niffty get a big one and we do not!?”

Alastor’s fingers squeeze the hilt of his cane, his brow creasing as his nose fuzzes with rage and…hhhfffﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Be-c-ahh-ause! I actually like the sound of Niffty’s voice. I hh-fvvﮩ٨ـ-uck!” he folds his claw over his nose, shadows dripping from his skin.

“Boss?” Husk steps closer, tail flicking anxiously behind him, “are you--”

Alastor’s limb extends, inky shadows lashing out, “Don’t f̴͈̌ȕ̸̟̭̬̒̿c̶̝͙͐́̔̈͘͜k̵̢̗̪̤̘̞̺͗̚ḭ̴̊͋͆ņ̴͔͕͎̄̾̆͌̋͘̕g̴̊̏̒̌͛͊ touch me!” His joints crack and clip as he backs away, retreating with the heel of his palm shoved against the tip of his nose. “Hfz’ ju-hhﮩ٨ـZST!” shadows fold over him, fog clinging to his flesh as his voice burns with static, “Stay away from me, from Charlie, and my fucking sou٨ـﮩ٨p!” he yells, before vanishing into the cloud of skyless fog.

The group exchanges looks and frowns.

“That guy has fuckin’ issues.”

Husk exhales through his teeth. “You got no fuckin idea…”

“Alastor!” Charlie squeaks when he manifests in her room, horns wide, eyes dark pools. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Alastor drinks deep breaths, calming himself mentally and physically with each exhale. “I--hhh-I…” his hand hoods his face and he drops his chin as his breaths saw violently in his throat, “XHZZT!”

Charlie’s fingers press at her cheeks and she whimpers with sympathy. “I got you sick!”

Alastor pants, bracing himself on the footboard. “I am perfectly--”

“Don’t you say fine!” she thrusts a finger at him, cheeks puffed righteously. Alastor stares at her narrowing gaze. “Don’t. You. Dare.” Her pointer finger waggles and she bends it toward the heart pillow on the other side of the bed. “Sit.”

His eyes slide toward the pillow, horror dripping from his expression.

Charlie’s lip turns up. “I said sit, Mister!”

“I don’t need--”

“I need.” She snuggles into her fireproof blanket and unfurls a pink fuzzy one just for him alone. She pats the open space. “Sing to me?”

His eyes fade immediately back to magenta. “What?”

Her irises glisten and grow, her face taking on that famous ‘puppy dog cute’ that infuriates him normally but…

“My mom used to sing to me when I was sick.”

He can’t help it. A song? When was the last time he sang a song? He snorts a tiny laugh. “Well, I suppose you’re asking the right person.” He slips tentatively onto the bed, tucking only his toes under the blanket as he scrolls through his mental list of songs to soothe her.

“Let’s see…”

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

Why this song?

Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait

Ni le mal

Tout ça m'est bien égal

Heaven, his lids are heavy…

Non, rien de rien

Non, je ne regrette rien

C'est payé, balayé, oublié

Is she asleep?

Je me fous du passé

Avec mes souvenirs

J'ai allumé le feu

Is he…?

Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs

Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux

Balayé les amours

.ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Avec leurs trémolos

Balayé pour toujours

Je repars à zéro

Charlie wakes to find Alastor still asleep, head leaning back against the puffy heart pillow, his monocle dangling next to his cheek. His tiny snores are little more than static fuzz.

She wants to tuck him in so bad, but she wants him to sleep more, so she glides from under her blanket and pads out of the room.

When she enters the main area, Angel, Husk, and Pentious are all sitting around a card game. Husk perks up when his ears twitch and he sees her enter.

“Hey,” he rumbles. “Feeling better?”

Angel swings his whole body around the back of the couch, “Oy! Where tha fuck you been? Alastor’s dungeon?”

“We placed betsss!” Pentious sniggers.

Charlie shakes her head, matted braid flopping around her shoulders. “Nah. I was sick. Alastor’s been taking care of me.”

“He did what now?” Angel gawps.

“He must have brainwasshed you!”

“No, really! He--”

Husk sighs, “He’s asleep, right?”

Charlie nods.

Angel wheezes. “How’d you know?”

“He’s sick.”

“How’d you know that?”

Husk rolls his eyes. “Cuz I’m the only one who pays attention to you fuckers.” He thumbs the hallway. “Alastor got sick, made the soup. Angel started eating it. Alastor got mad--”

Angel’s lip pops open, “Aw what the fuck!” his arms flap, “why didn’t he just say! Wait--am I gonna get sick now?”

“Calm down everyone,” Charlie presses the air with her palms. “He went out and bought enough medicine for all of us.”

“But, wait, why? You’re the only one who needed it.”

Charlie smiles to herself, thumbing the medicine cup as warmth spreads through her chest. If there’s hope for him, there’s hope for all of them.

She can’t wait to tell Vaggie.

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