#there are dark skinned ones i guess (I didn’t pick many) but susie is the only one with a nice grungy dark color scheme! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years

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It takes a pack to raise a pup

“This is bad... What am I going to do?!” The gofer nervously paced around the infirmary, clutching the bitten arm in his hand before turning to face the Janitor “Please tell me that this is just a bad joke!” He pleaded “Please tell me that this is just a mistake...”

“Sorry ta break it to ya Bud.” The janitor lowered his cap down in sympathy. “But I ain’t jokin’ and I ain’t wrong about this: dat ova here is definitely a werewolf bite. I should know, I saw what my table an’ chair legs looked like after my first few full moons.”

As this was a very serious situation, he forced himself to hold back his laughter at the intrusive memory of his wife telling him that her solution to keeping him from turning the furnature into his chew toys was to swat his snout with a rolled up newspaper every time he ignored his bones and squeaky toys in favor of the table legs. This resulted in him letting out a noise that sounded like a cough.

“B-but what about my Ma and Grandpa?! They don’t even know that monster stuff goes down in the studio! How am I supposed to explain to them that every month, I’m going to turn into a blood-thirsty monster!?”

“If ya don’t wanna tell ‘em, they don’t have ta know.” Wally shrugged. “A lotta wolves don’t tell even their closest family members.”

“What if my Ma questions why all my clothes are getting ripped up?! What if Grandpa finds out when he sees me turn for the first- Oh no... WHAT IF I BITE THEM?! WHAT IF I EAT THEM AFTER I TURN?! WALLY, WHAT IF I END UP KILLING THEM?!”

Buddy felt sick to his stomach as he slumped down to the floor, Wally sat down next to him and patted his back.

“Hey Buddy, you’re gonna be fine. Trust me! There’s a ton of werewolves here at dis studio, none of us would mind showin’ ya the ropes or givin’ ya some good advice for dealin’ with this. Who knows, it might even be a little fun ta get a new pup in the pack.”

“Uuuugggggghhhhhhhhh...”

The Janitor’s words and smile didn’t reassure the nervous gofer, if anything, hearing that he and Wally weren’t the only wolves in the studio made Buddy wonder if the monster that bit him last week was one of his own coworkers. As he thought about it, The wiry music director who was in a constant state of irritation seemed like he was a good candidate to be the wolf who bit him...

He would be lying if he said he couldn’t imagine the man sinking those sharp teeth of his into a human being’s flesh.

“Buddy, c’mon, look at me. It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna lie to you, changing is always scary the first few times but you don’t have to do it alone. I can rally up the pack if ya need all of us or I can just keep this between you and me, but no matta what happens, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks Wally...” He sighed as he still dreaded what was to come. “How soon can you get them?”

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“Ta-daaaaa! Welcome to werewolves not-so-anonymous!”

Wally unfurled the crudely-made banner as Buddy walked into the break room, Susie clapped, Henry smiled and gave a friendly wave, and Lacie looked bored and unamused but gave a thumbs up and a half smile.

The gofer let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. Wally alone could’ve been an outlier among werewolves but not all of them. He knew most of these people; the voice actress was hands down one of the most infectiously cheerful people he’d ever met, The Head Artist was a patient and kind man who the gofer looked up to as both an artist and a father figure, and while he didn’t know the mechanic very well aside from the facts that she wasn’t the most friendly or social of people, she didn’t seem half bad.

These people weren’t monsters, he wasn’t a monster.

“Alright, I know a some of us here already know each other but others don’t so lets start ourselves off with some introductions. Who’s going first?”

“Okay. Hi, I’m Buddy, I’m the studio’s gofer and I got bitten pretty recently so I’m kinda scared about all of this...”

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On the day of the full moon, Henry rented a van with the intent to take the werewolf pack to a cabin in the woods so that Buddy’s first transformation would be in a secluded area.

“So how’d your folks take it?” Lacie inquired to break the silence. “They didn’t look happy when we picked you up.”

“They took it better than I expected, I guess?” The gofer sighed “I mean, my ma seemed pretty scared, but she seemed more scared for me than scared of me.”

“Yeah, that tends to happen...” Henry nodded.

“Guys, I have a question”

“Go for it.”

“If Sammy’s not a werewolf, then why is he coming with us? Wont he get turned?”

The music director rolled his eyes and took a very long sip from his coffee, he also wasn’t looking forward to tonight but for a very different reason.

“Nah... Don’t worry.” Lacie laid back and stuck her boots up on the dashboard. “Hell’s Songbird is cursed with something else so he’s immune to lycanthropy.”

Nobody noticed that the man had flinched at Lacie’s statement.

“...Is he basically an unofficial member of the pack?”

Wally and Susie’s eyes lit up at the question and they smiled at each other before answering.

“Yes.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

Wally broke down laughing as Susie broke out her stage voice, even Buddy let out a soft chuckle at her dramatic movements.

“The grumpy banjo man is indeed the pack’s loyal brother, not by blood or spirit, but by true love-”

Said grumpy banjo man turned to face the back seat, the regular irritation in his voice gave way to a sarcastic, deadpan tone.

“If you people genuinely think I ‘love’ getting chewed, slobbered on, roughhoused with, pounced on, and ripped apart by a pack of near-mindless wild animals almost every single month, then you’ve probably been huffing too many ink fumes.”

“Yeah, yeah, so bein’ the ‘designated driver’ of da group isn’t always fun... But ya do it ‘cause you looooooooooove us!”

Henry sighed in a mix of annoyance and acceptance in a way that implied he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“I’m a married man.” Sammy continued to deadpan. “I thought you knew that by now.”

This response only egged Wally on.

“Psssst! He’s not denyin’ it!” The janitor stage-whispered “So it must be true!”

“Shut UP Franks.”

Sammy huffed and crossed his arms, but not denying Wally’s statement, which led to a loop of Wally’s teasing and Sammy’s fruitless attempts to shut the conversation down, which was only ended by reaching their destination.

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Buddy felt goosebumps as the van pulled up to the cabin and the sun slowly started to dip down.

“Here we are.”

“Finally! I swear, every single car ride I have with that. walking. headache. becomes the longest one I’ve ever endured.”

“Hey!”

The cabin itself probably looked like a much more warm and inviting place during midday, but as the shadows of the trees started to cast down on the humble little abode, it looked almost sinister. Although, that could’ve just been Buddy’s imagination working against him.

He hoped it was just his imagination working against him.

“Fuck, it’s gettin’ dark real fast.” The mechanic remarked as she looked at the sky. “Should we slap the meat on the grill now or just wait after we change and eat it raw?”

“We should wait.” The animator replied. “At this rate, if we try to cook it we’ll change before it’s halfway done.”

Buddy helped carry things into the cabin; a cooler, a couple of blankets, a duffle bag filled with dog toys and bones, they all seemed like reasonable items, but he couldn’t deny he felt something was missing.

“Hey Sammy, you’re looking out for us after we change, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So where are the ropes and chains? And isn’t there supposed to be bear traps and tranquilizers or something like them?”

The musician raised an eyebrow at the gofer.

“...Why would we need those?”

“...To tie us up and keep us from killing people?”

Sammy’s Jaw dropped at Buddy’s suggestion.

“Holy fucking shit... kid, you’re not turning into a monster, you’re just becoming a glorified puppy.”

“But you said it yourself, you get ripped up!”

“So?” Sammy scoffed. “That’s just what all dogs do.”

“He’s more of a cat person than a dog person.” Susie called out from the kitchen “Take everything he says about werewolves with a grain of salt.”

“Easy for you to say!” Sammy called back. “You’re not the one who had to cover over ninety-seven miles in different directions to round up a bunch of whimpering wolves because SOMEONE decided to set off a bunch of firecrackers just as the moon rose!”

“Hey!” Wally called out. “I said I was sorry!”

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It was time.

Like it or not, he was going to become a beast.

He knew the others’ own transformations were happening right now, he heard their bones snapping and cracking, the changing shadows cast on the floor as he dashed to his own room praying that he’d make it in time.

In the madness, he saw a glimpse of what Sammy’s curse was. He wished he didn’t see that, it would’ve so much easier to trust Sammy’s protection if he didn’t know that burden of the musician’s curse was like a werewolf’s curse except the ‘wolf’ part was scratched off and replaced with something else. The chill that ran down his spine when his eyes met the monster’s also didn’t help.

Buddy locked himself in his room, quickly taking off his clothes so they wouldn’t get ripped during the change and wrapping himself up in the provided blankets to keep himself from seeing his own transformation.

His heart pounded against his chest as he heard someone whimpering and scratching at the door on the other side.

“Focus, Buddy...” He tried to reassure himself. “Deep breaths, don’t get scared...”

He highly doubted he’d be lucid for his first full moon, but the idea of losing his mind and becoming a ravenous monster just didn’t sit well with him, So he tried his best to stay ‘awake’.

No matter how hard it was.

The curse started off his own changes with either his skin, his senses, or his mouth. He didn’t know for sure as it felt like all three were happening at once as he spat out a bloody mouthful of his own teeth into his hands and watched fur sprout up all over his arms, the taste and smell of blood in his mouth and on his now paw-like hands, as well as the smells and sounds of everything else in the cabin was overwhelmingly nauseating.

“D-don’t freak out... the others have been through this lots of times... this is completely normal... Stay calm Buddy...”

He tossed aside the teeth and threw himself deeper into the blanket pile in spite of his body’s increasing temperature and new fur coat. The gofer couldn’t tell if the whimpering he heard was coming from the other wolves scratching at the door or from him.

The next thing the curse went after was everything else; muscles, bones, etc.

It was painful, but at the very least it was fast, he didn’t even have the time to whine for mercy before the malevolent force of the werewolf curse stopped. Buddy let out a sigh of relief as he dug himself out of his blanket cocoon.

He looked at the mirror and saw a frightened looking young wolf, his eyes still looked human and his fur seemed to match the color of his hair. While he didn’t like looking at this and calling it his reflection, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. In spite of fear trying to drive him to the same level as a wild animal, he was still him.

Or so he thought as he was startled by the sound of his door unlocking itself and creaking open.

He let out a yipe and started to bare his teeth and growl at the weird beaked creature that poked its head into his territory. The said creature was not impressed in the slightest and simply came into the room.

Buddy growled louder and snapped his jaws at the creature, his ears laid back and his hackles bristling straight up. While the creature did move away from his bite, it was still not impressed. Out of desperation, he lunged at the black-feathered beast, desperately trying to scare it out but the monster looked like it had dealt with this before as it glided out of the way of his attack and picked him up by the scruff of his neck.

The young wolf flailed, bit, clawed, and snapped at the creature. But he could swear that the beast’s only response to Buddy’s last-ditch efforts to keep himself alive were to roll its eyes and toss the wolf out of the room.

And into the line of sight of two other wolves. Both adults, one of them had pitch black fur, the other one had dark gray fur, but both of them had curious almost human-like eyes.

Thankfully, they smelled familiar to him. Even as a human, he could always recognize the smells of cleaning supplies, bacon soup, and ink. As he got a little bit more used to his new senses, while most of the smells and sounds were still new, and there was too much of it, he could at least identify what they were.

The black wolf came closer to him and sniffed his face before licking it. The other wolf pawed the first wolf’s face away from his own. Assuming that this was just some kind of greeting, Buddy sniffed the first wolf’s face and licked him back, the second wolf let out a noise that sounded like an amused snort.

THUNK

A loud noise from the kitchen that came with a new smell made him realize how hungry he was. Assumingly all thinking the same thing, the three wolves dashed into the kitchen to see the toppled-over cooler being raided by two other wolves. The bird like creature was biting and flapping its wings at them, clearly trying to keep them away from the coveted red meats the cooler held.

“STOP. EATING. PLASTIC!” The creature cried out to deaf ears of the pack. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOURSELVES SICK! JUST WAIT FOR ME TO UNWRAP THEM FIRST!”

This tyranny would not stand with the wolves, united as a pack, the five starved beasts joined forces against the giant bird-monster that stayed between them and their food.

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Buddy woke up groaning with a headache, sore muscles, and an upset stomach the next morning.

Last night was a blur to the gofer, like a dream, the most of what happened during the full moon quickly faded from his mind as he woke up. If it wasn’t for the fact he could still see the bird-monster form of the music director looming over him in the cabin’s rafters, he would’ve chalked the whole thing up to just be a bad dream.

“Sammy?” He groaned. “What happened last night?”

“As soon as I opened the door, all of you ran to the fields instead of the woods.” The music director sounded like he was too tired to be irritated. “I tried to steer you back towards the woods because there was a barn over there, but as usual, none of you listened to me.” Okay, maybe he was still a little bit irritated.

“Oh no... Did I eat anything there?”

“No, but you did get your head stuck underneath a fence and whined until I let you out.”

Buddy blushed in embarrassment as he wrapped his blanket tighter around him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, everybody does stupid things the first time they change.”

“So how come you didn’t change back?”

“My curse isn’t determined by the moon, it’s determined by... other things. I don’t like talking about it.”

Sammy wrapped himself up in his wings, ending the conversation.

“G’morning.” Wally set down a fizzing glass of water by Buddy, the Janitor looked more exhausted now than he did after a 12-hour deep clean of the studio. “Ya might wanna drink that, it’ll help with the headache.”

“Thanks Wally.”

He smiled as he sipped down the liquid, while the gofer knew that the changes weren’t going to be easy for him to adjust to, at least he had other people who were willing to help him through it.

#hauntober #moonlight #bendy and the ink machine #batim monster au #buddy lewek #wally franks #susie campbell #lacie benton #Henry Stein #sammy lawrence #fanfic #it's werewolf time lads #body horror #took all night to write this

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a-common-haitian-name · 5 years

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The Legend of Little Jane

Please do not distribute my work to other sites without my permission. This was a small assignment for school that is mainly for the purpose of getting feedback. It is a bit long though so please keep that in mind.

On November 19th, at exactly 11:24 at night, detective John Lynch was asked by his friend Nick to come over. The night sky was dark and dull, not a sole star in sight. The only sources of light were from the old, dim street lamps, flickering on and off repeatedly and revealing the secret city below. The lights revealed the dirty streets that was filled with tired men trudging through the streets, worn out from work or yelling on their phones, or soccer moms coming out of bars after breaking their sobriety, or addicts wandering around aimlessly, looking for their next fix, their clothes old and torn. He adorned a long brown trench coat, with black slacks, and black leather gloves before he went out into the night. John felt the cold, winter air hit his face as he left his old, and deteriorating motel room. It was only going to get colder, John remembered, and groaned as he walked to his car. His feet made splashes in the puddles from the rain, and he shivered as the icy water hit and seeped into his pants. The once shiny blue paint on the car was now chipping off on the sides. Scratches and dents aligned the right side of his car, ranging from long to short, deep to shallow, and the word destroyer was keyed jaggedly on the left. John couldn’t afford to get it fixed. John opened the door and watched as a few beer cans fell onto the pavement with a soft thunk. Some were empty and crushed, while others were half full and spilling onto the concrete. He could smell the old beer coming from the floor of the car. It was putrid and filling John with disgust. John promised himself that he would clean his car. John moved the trash and paperwork out of his way (he couldn’t tell which one was which) and started the car. While he waited for the car to warm up, he took a small, black, leather notebook the size of his hand out of the glove compartment and opened it up. The notebook was old, and John couldn’t remember how long he had it, or who even gave it to him. The edges of the book were curled in, and the once white edges of the book were now brown and crumpled. The cover of the book was bumpy and rough, like sandpaper. The words methane and fire were the first words he saw written in the book, next to acid and smoke. Some of the words were either scribbled in the book, almost to a point of unreadability, or they were written neatly and with care, perfect enough for Catholic school. John liked to write in the book. It kept him sane, and grounded. It was a way to avoid the dreaded reality of his miserable existence. John wrote 11:24 and went to see what his friend needed. At 11:45, John arrived at Nick’s house. It was an old Victorian house, bought because his wife was richer than both of them combined. The outside was a light blue, with many windows and white borders. They had once bright plants in the front of their yard, that wilted and lost their color, and had yet to be replaced. Nick was an old friend of John’s. He was a nurse at the hospital across their small town, and has a wife and 3 kids, 2 boys and 1 girl, all 3 years apart. John could barely remember what they looked like. A part of John wished he could have something like that. Nick was standing on his porch, pacing back and forth, his bare feet hitting the wood at a fast rate. The red wood under him squeaked like an old mattress as he walked. Pit pat. Pit pat. Pit pat. The rhythm replayed in John’s mind until he approached Nick, and Nick stopped pacing. Fast flashed through John’s mind, and he made a note to write it down later.

“John!” Nick’s voice sounded panicked, and he looked somewhat disheveled. His dirty blonde hair was all over the place, and his gray robe was opened slightly, revealing dirty gray sweatpants and an old, tight-fitting t-shirt.

“What is it Nick?” It was the first time he spoke in hours. His voice was almost gone, and his breath smelled like cheap liquor and breath mints.

“I need your help! There’s this girl who might not be safe! Her parents aren’t answering the phone when we try to call them, I’m really worried because it’s been a few hours, and... and...” Nick was talking too fast for John to understand, and John asked him to slow down. “Nancy, my wife, has been tutoring a little girl around Susie’s age,” Susie was his daughter, about 6 to 7 years old, John remembered. “Nancy gave the girl her number to call us whenever she needed something, like to be picked up or if she needed food, and she called tonight, well I think it was her because no one was talking on the other line, and I don’t know if she’s alright! She might be hurt or in danger or worse-” John stopped him from saying anything else. Nick tended to ramble when he was nervous. He would’ve talked for hours if John hadn’t stopped him.

“Nick, tell me where she lives.” John ordered slowly, as to not push him into another tangent.

“It’s in the woods, 20 minutes east of Old Al’s pitstop.” John thought back, trying to remember where that place was. Old Al was long dead, and with him went the pitstop. No one has taken care of it in years. The place was surrounded by overgrown vegetation, and its only visitors were kids going to drink and vandalize the place, or animals passing through. John wondered why anyone would want to live near t///here. Despite his skepticism he got into his car and drove to the house, though in the back of his mind, a voice was telling him not to go.

When John arrived at the house, an eerie feeling passed through him. The entire area around the house felt empty. There were no trees around the house, no animals making any noise, not even a car in front of the house. The house felt out of place, like someone just picked up a house and placed it down at a random spot. The outside of the house was a plain creme color, and vegetation crept up the sides, clinging onto nothing before falling back down, only to repeat the same process over and over again. Growth flashed through his mind. Write it down later, John reminded himself. John knocked on the giant, white door and watched as it slowly slid open, with no one on the other side. John peeked inside, checking to see if anyone was there.

“Hello?” John called, but he received no answer. His feet hit the fluffy blue welcome mat, and he wiped the mud off his shoes as he stepped inside. The house was as empty on the inside as it was on the outside. To the left of him was a kitchen, where everything was white and clean. No dishes in the sink or any leftover food on the counter. To the right was a living room with one small couch against the brown wooden floor. In the middle was a long hallway with three white doors. Probably a bathroom and two bedrooms, John guessed. There was nothing on the walls. There were no family photos hung up, nor where there any Christmas decorations put up early. There were no undecipherable drawings from children of houses or of their family, or any annoying toys that make noises that ring throughout the house. The walls were the same crème color as the outside, and the furniture wats the same shade of white. The house was completely silent except for the drip drop of the water from the sink, and the low murmur of the tv in the living room. In the middle of the living room there was a little girl. She sat with her knees up to her face and her eyes glued to the tv screen, not blinking even once. The child had wispy black, curly hair, which was cut into different, and choppy lengths. Her eyes were black, unmoving, and caught in a trance. She was wearing a pair of blue fairy pajamas that were old and seem to be becoming too small for her and had a bandage on the inside of her right arm, from a scratch or a fall, John guessed. Bruised, John thought briefly, before walking up to her. The girl was shivering intensely, and John couldn’t blame her. The house was freezing, and John didn’t spot a heater anywhere. He squatted down to her level and waved a hand in front of her face. She still didn’t move. John’s eyes flickered from her to the tv. She was watching an old black and white show, one that John couldn’t remember the name of. The same scene was playing repeatedly. A woman, pale and doe eyed, running through the halls, away from the fast approaching shadow that was going to consume her whole. John walked to the tv and turned it off. When he looked back at the girl, he saw that she was now staring back at him. “My name’s John. What’s your name?” She only blinked once and shrugged her shoulders. “Where’s your parents?” John asked her. She stared at him for a few seconds, still not blinking, and stood up slowly, stumbling as she got up. John noticed Jane written poorly on her leg, the lines jagged and rough. “Jane? Is that your name?” John asked again but got no answer. The girl walked past John, into the hallway, and stopped in front of the first door on the right. Jane (John guessed that was her name) stood there for a few seconds before turning the shiny yellow knob and opening the door. John pulled Jane aside and walked into the room. John then faced the unholy sight of two dead bodies on the bed. One man and one woman. They both had black hair and had olive skin. Their eyes were closed, and they both looked so peaceful. They weren’t dressed like they were ready for bed. The man was in pair of basketball shorts and had a t- shirt on, while the woman had on a bathrobe, which was slightly open, revealing the lingerie under it. The only thing that were alike between the two were their golden wedding bands. Husband and wife. John concluded. Parents. John looked behind him to see Jane just staring at the two on the bed.

“Nothing’s alright in the end...” Were the only words Jane spoke. John quickly grabbed Jane and left the room, spotting a propane heater on the way out. John called the police, and sat with Jane until they, and the paramedics, arrived forty-five minutes later.

“Propane poisoning, I’m guessing.” The paramedic told him, watching as someone took the now empty tank of the propane heater out of the house, two body bags following close behind. “We’ll be sure once a full autopsy is done... Is that the daughter?” The paramedic tilted his head to Jane, who was sitting quietly on the ground right in front of the tv. John nodded. “So sad to see someone experience something like this at such a young age.” John decided he would drive Jane back to the police station. John led Jane to his beat-up car and opened the back door for her. Jane moved the liquor covered papers and beer bottles to the side and sat in the car. John closed the door and went to the driver’s side, where destroyer was waiting for him. John got in his car and looked back at Jane one last time before driving off. Fast, growth, and bruised ran through his head, replaying over and over until the loud sound of the rain drowned it out. John was brought back to reality when he heard the low rumble coming from the back.

He looked at Jane through the dirty mirror and asked her, “Are you hungry?” John received a small yes in response, and John decided to visit a small diner nearby. Betsy’s, John thinks the name was. The diner had been there even before John was born. It was a small diner, big enough for 10 tables and a kitchen. It was white and always smelled of cleaning supplies, cheap food and cigarettes. It was starting to rain when they arrived at the diner, and they had to run inside. They sat at a small booth in a corner. “What do you want to eat?” John asked Jane. She shrugged. John ordered her french-fries. He ordered himself a beer, which arrived quickly. The two were quiet while they were waiting for Jane’s food, until John decided to break the silence. “Jane do you know what happened to your parents?” He asked.

“They died...” Was her answer as she shifted in the plastic red chair. Pit pat. Pit pat. The rain became louder as it hit the window and dropped to the ground. Jane’s food arrived, and she started to eat it slowly.

“Do you know how?” It was a long shot, and John didn’t know why he was asking her these questions. He blamed it on the liquor.

“They were fighting,” She started, tearing a fry into 3 tiny pieces with her little hands before eating it. “I’m not supposed to move when they fight.” There was a tinge of sadness in her voice. Pit pat, pit pat, pit pat. That eerie feeling from earlier was back now.

“Did you move?” John asked. Jane only nodded her head, looking down at her plate.

“I didn’t want to hear it anymore. They were so loud, all the time. I wanted it to stop.”

“What did you do?” John asked. His beer was gone now, and he was starting to become anxious. A tear rolled down her face, and she made no room to wipe it away.

“I took the tank... I remember father telling me not to breathe too much of it because it could hurt me, but I saw father using it all the time, so I thought I could do it too.” John took notice of how she said father instead of dad or daddy. Formal pounded into his head. “They came into the room and pushed me out. They were still fighting. The tank was still on.” Jane stopped eating and was full blown crying now. John could imagine how it played out. The parents, still unnamed, stormed throughout that one-story house in the middle of nowhere. One was probably chasing and yelling after the other. Little Jane was sitting tightly in front of the tv, probably put there to distract her. Later, the tv is turned down, while the yelling continued. For how long, John didn’t know. They had probably taken the argument to the kitchen or outside, close enough for Jane to hear it. Jane, most likely at her limit, took the tank from the kitchen or a toolshed in the back. John wondered how long it took Jane to drag the tank to the room. Four, maybe five, minutes. He imagined Jane turning the gas on, waiting as the gas quietly filled the room. Pit pat. Pit pat. Pit pat. John imagined the parents coming into the room, one of them yanking Jane by her arm and taking her out the room. They were still arguing and probably weren’t paying attention to the open tank. They probably argued themselves to sleep and died through the night. Dark came to him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” The sound of the rain became unbearable at that moment. Jane, her tears now gone, didn’t give him an answer, and only looked out the window next to her.

#writeblr #writing #black writers #writers on tumblr #fiction #thriller #or at least that was what I was trying to go for #critics are welcomed #my writing

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forallyourikemensengokuneeds · 5 years

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up on the hilltop 18

Chapter Eighteen

Sara found that shopping with a man for clothes was next to impossible. He was done within five minutes with a simple dark colored suit and a tie that matched. She shook her head as she tried for anything that was mournful but not too dark or too short. It seemed the more she looked, the more she was disheartened. Everything was not what she had hoped. She had thought it would be easy to find something but everything was either too dark and didn’t look right on her skin, or it was too short or just outright inappropriate for a wake and funeral.

It didn’t help that Mitsuhide was constantly adding his own commentary to everything she picked up. He thought most of it was fine, not for the things she needed it for of course, but for his personal use. She finally was near the end of her tether, and she knew they were close to being done in the mall. She was trying to think of something, anything that would piece together somewhat well.

She was shaking her head when Mitsuhide picked up a simple dark blue dress. “What about this?”, he asked.

“That would be perfect along with that sweater.”, she said pointing to the wall with a beige sweater with tie arounds.

“Whereas I do like to look at you my love I think you are correct.”, he said softly as he went over to grab one of the sweaters off the wall and brought it over to where she was trying to find a size close to hers. She went a size up. She knew that beggars could not be choosers all the time. She walked up to the cashier and waited to be rung out. Mitsuhide who was standing next to her with his suit bag thrown over his shoulder while his other arm draped over her shoulder was looking around. He was watching her out of the corner of his eyes when he knew something was bothering her and it wasn’t the clothes. He looked around again as he spotted a group of newcomers in the store. They seemed to all be around her age. They were loud but didn’t seem to be saying much. She walked up to the counter and placed her things on the counter. She was in a hurry he could see. She had her card out and was waiting for the woman to ring as fast as she could.

“You okay?”, he asked softly. She didn’t respond but nodded her reply. He watched her as her tense features tried to relax. She wasn’t looking anywhere other than the cashier who he knew she was silently wishing would move faster.

“Sara is that you?”, a man asked behind her.

“Hi, Rob.”, she said still not looking at him.

“This one of your brothers?”, he asked as he tried to size Mitsuhide up.

“Nope.”, she replied but said nothing else.

“ Then who is it?”, the man asked.

“My boyfriend.”, she replied as she handed her credit card over to the woman.

“Boyfriend?”, Rob said as he started to laugh. “Really that’s a good one.”

“ I am her boyfriend.”, Mitsuhide said as he looked at the other man.

“Sara doesn’t like men.”, Rob stated quickly. “She is gay.”

“She is not.”, Sara stated. Mitsuhide laughed.

“She is not.”, Mitsuhide said. “but keep thinking that if you must. I like knowing no man will try anything with her in this little town.”

“She isn’t?”, Rob asked as the other people in his group all stopped and looked her over.

“No.,” Mitsuhide said with a smile. He took her bag and slung it over his shoulder with his own. He couldn’t help himself as he moved his hand to her lower back as they started out of the store. His hand crept lower and lower.

“If you grab my ass you will pay later.”, she said softly.

“I will risk your wrath, my love.”, he said with a devilish grin as he moved his hand lower.

“Mitsuhide!”, she exclaimed.

“Be glad I stopped there.”, he said with a chuckle.

“What am I going to do with you?”, she asked.

“Love me.”, he whispered as he kissed her in the middle of the open area. She wondered why it felt like her heart soared as he did this. He was claiming her in a public way in a public place. She knew he was doing this so anyone walking by would see. She hadn’t changed enough for people not to know who she was. He was leaving his mark on those rumors that had plagued her most of her life. He was erasing them.

He knew what he was doing. He was not one for public displays of affection. He found them creepy. However, in this case, he was going to dispel the rumor in one fair swoop. The hub of the townspeople they had passed man faces he could remember, and he knew they all knew her by sight. He had seen the stares and the quiet words. This was the quickest and easiest way to end them for good. When he lifted his head, he smiled at her. Her eyes were hazy still as they always got after he kissed her. It was one of those things he relished about her. He placed his arm back around her shoulder and led her out of the shopping mall to the astonishment of all that were in there. They all had to rethink their opinion of her now. He had done step one of his plan with ease. Now on to step two and three.

He knew how to get to her fathers house. It had been located down the street from Gran’s and wasn’t hard to find again. He had often thought about just driving back there to see if she was still there. He didn’t know if her mother would be there and that had been the only thing stopping him. He had been scared of her mother when he came to live with Gran. The woman never smiled. She only glared at everyone. She also never had a decent thing to say about anyone or anything. He was often surprised that her youngest daughter was the way she was. So open and trusting because of this. He shuddered to think if she had been any other way.

He didn’t stop showing her throughout the rest of the day. His touches were designed to get a reaction from her. He knew it, and so did she. A slight caress on her shoulder. The way his hand spread out on her the lower part of her back. The sweetness of his hand on the nape of her neck. They all had a propose and none of them were to led her back to the bed in the hotel room. He was overloading her senses of the living and reawaking her to everything she was that she had buried within herself. He knew what she was all along now it was for her to realize as well.

As they parked on the street and walked down the blacktop toward her house, he smiled to himself on how good it was to remember the way they had done so many years prior. She was slightly tense. He could read that in the way she was walking. Her spine stiff and hard underneath his guiding hand. He stopped her and turned her to face him, “You are not alone, sweetheart.”

“I know that.”, she said with a soft smile.

“Then relax a bit. Otherwise, it will be torture.”, he said.

“It already is, Mitsu.”, she said.

“Relax, my love.”, he said in his knowing voice.

“I will try.”, she said.

“Good girl.”, he said as he kissed her softly on the crown of her head.

“Sara. Mitsuhide.”, her father said from the front door as they walked up the staircase.

“Sir.”, Mitsuhide said as he placed out his hand to shake. Her father looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“What is that, son. You are family.”, her father said as he took Mitsuhide into a hug. Mitsuhide’s eyes went wide along with hers. “You were Grans, that makes you a younger brother of sorts.”

“Dad?”, she asked.

“What? Oh, I guess that is slightly weird.”, her father stated as he looked at the pair.

“It is really weird, dad, but not the weirdest thing to believe about this family.”, Sara said with a laugh.

“It is good to see you, Sara. I always worried about you there in the world.”, her father said as he took her into a hug as well.

“Dad I am fine in the world.”, she replied.

“I guess you are. You found him at least.”, her father said as he let them walk into the house.

“What the hell was that about?”, she asked.

“I think Gran worked her magic on him.”, Mitsuhide said with a smile towards her.

“It is a wake, and you have the audacity to smile?”, they both heard the voice coming from in back of them. They both turned, and she saw her sister, the only sister she hadn’t seen yet coming and going from the hotel.

“Hello, Jennifer.”, Sara said.

“You brought a man with you, Sara.”, Jennifer said as she made a moved to get closer to Mitsuhide as Sara saw it and moved along with her sister to stand directly in front of him.

“Shocked sister?”, Sara asked. “Shocked that the rumors you helped Susie spread about me aren’t true?”

“What are you talking about. Of course, they were. Mother said so.”, Jennifer said shocked.

“Mother was wrong.”, Sara said with a smile.

“Again smiling at a funeral for your own grandmother.”, Jennifer said.

“I would rather smile and remember her for the woman she was then be a false martyr in the end.”, Sara said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”, Jennifer asked.

“Really? Figure it out yourself.”, Sara said as she walked away and Mitsuhide followed in her wake.

Jennifer called out to him, ”When you get sick of her let me know.”

“Neither will ever happen, Jenny.”, he said as he stared at the other woman who looked as he had struck her with his words.

“What do you mean?”, Jennifer asked.

“I will be more clear. I won’t get sick of your sister, ever. The second I will never call you either to be her replacement.”, he said as he turned and walked after Sara who had gone into the back of the house. “Where are you going?”

“My old room.”, she said.

“Why?”, he asked as he followed as she made her way through the large house.

“To get what I came for.”, she said.

“Which is?”, he asked as they made their way up the staircase located in the back of the house to the third floor and then down the hallway to the last room.

“Our pictures.”, she said as she opened the doors and found her bedroom almost exactly as she had left it eight years before. She was slightly taken back by the sight.

“What is it?”, he asked.

“It is nearly the same.”, she said. “I thought it would be packed up.”

“Why?”, he asked.

“Mother.”, she replied. She walked off to the side and sat down at the desk and smiled as she opened the drawer. He saw the bundle of photos and also the small box she pulled out.

“What is that?”, he asked as he leaned over her to look at the box. It seemed oddly familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it.

“Open it.”, she said. He lifted the lid, and sure enough, the memories came flooding back. He looked at the small female in front of him.

“I thought you wanted to hate me?”, he asked.

“I tried. I failed.”, she said with a smile.

He looked into the box that he remembered now making in woodworking class that he thought of as the worst class he ever took. The box barely was held together when he tossed it her way when he got to their spot that afternoon. She had smiled at him, and she swore she would fix it. He was looking at it now, she had. She had placed every little thing he had given her or taken her too. She had a box of memories to hold on too in place of his letters that she never received.

“You saved it all?”, he asked slightly surprised.

“I did.”, she said softly. “I always loved you even when I didn’t know it.”

They passed the rest of the night moving through the crowds hand in hand after they had brought a box down to his car. They would stop and talk with everyone as they both knew so many people that were in the house. She looked up at him and knew this was how her life was going to be. They took strength from each other. She knew that was how love should be. She also knew she was finally ready to do what her grandmother asked of her.

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peachgreenteelemonade · 7 years

Text

untitled (waking up)

Fandom: Dan and Phil

Summary: when did Dan stop being happy

(A/N) A parent!Phan AU where Dan and Phil haven’t made videos in 10 years, and Dan realizes something in his life is missing.

Scene 1: in which one, Daniel Howell, realizes his life is quite different than he believed it to be

School then soccer then ballet then theater then back home, Dan was beginning so feel a bit like a chauffeur for his daughter Susie. Phil, that lucky spoon, had never learned to drive, and therefore, got to stay at home and watch anime while Dan ferried their 8 year old daughter across London every evening. Logically, Dan knew that Phil was probably editing, not watching anime, but his overtired, bitter mind wasn’t choosing to be logical.

Dan loved his daughter, so much, but as she chattered nonstop in the backseat while Dan slowly drove them home through the seemingly endless London traffic, he just wished desperately for some peace and quiet.

“And then Jeremy H. told her that she shouldn’t brag so much, and I agreed because she brags quite a lot. I don’t care about how her mother bought her a polly-plays-a-lot for her birthday…well not a million bajillion times! But still I told Jeremy to cut it out because those are the rules of best friendship…” and she continued on and on. Dan’s eyes drooped then snapped open as a bicycle swerved in front of his car. He slammed on the breaks and honked.

“Hey!” He yelled, but the man just cycled off, flipping him off. “Fucking…” Dan mumbled under his breath so his daughter couldn’t hear.

“Dad?” Susie asked, leaning up to look at him in the front seat. “Did you hear me? You have to come to class on Wednesday and help Mr. Thompson get my costume.”

“Oh,” Dan sighed internally, “alright. Is there a recital coming up soon?”

“Yes! I was just telling you!” Susie sounded exasperated. “Our All Hallows Eve concert is next week! That’s why I’ve been practicing at home so hard.” She crossed her little arms.

“Oh that’s great honey!” Dan replied absently. Why hadn’t he known that? That Susie had been practicing for something so hard. He guessed that he’d been a bit too busy disappearing to his office as soon as he got home and browsing the internet for half the night.

He just…hadn’t noticed.

He hadn’t noticed much about his daughter lately, he realized with something like a shiver running down his back as he braked again. His insides felt cold, was this who he was becoming? His parents loved him as a child, he knew, but they never seemed to show it quite as much as Dan had longed for them to.

Was he doomed to repeat the same parenting cycle?

“Daddy’s been helping me practice all my moves in the lounge. He says I dance better than anyone he’s ever seen!”

Dan stared straight ahead. “That’s wonderful baby, I’m sure you’ll outshine everyone else on stage.” The rest of the car ride passed in a blur, Susie chattering away about the various skill levels of the kids in her class.

As they got out of the car in front of their townhouse, Dan tried to put his dark thoughts out of his mind. He was probably over exaggerating everything in his exhausted state.

“Daddy!” Susie yelled and ran into Phil’s arms as soon as Dan unlocked the door.

“Susie Susie Lou, how do you do?” Phil laughed as he picked up their daughter and swung her around a bit.

Dan stood back in the doorway a bit and smiled fondly. See…nothing was wrong. They were a happy, perfect family.

“We’re practicing our dances again! And Mr. Thompson told me I was doing really really well!" Susie exclaimed as Phil set her down on the counter and gave her some crisps as a snack.

“I knew you were!” Phil responded, a gigantic grin on his face.

“I’ll practice extra hard every night Daddy! I want to be the best dancer in the world!” Susie exclaimed, jumping and almost falling off the counter.

“Woaah,” Phil steadied her. “You can do whatever you believe Susie Lou, but know I’ll be proud of you no matter what,” he rubbed his nose against her tiny one and Dan felt something warm flutter up in his stomach.

“I knew you would say that,” Susie giggled. “I told dad you thought I was the best in the world.”

“Oh did you?” Phil turned and met Dan’s eyes. There was a small smile on his face, but for some reason it didn’t feel like the emotion reached his eyes. Dan felt something like uncertainty drip down his back in a cold shiver.

“Yeah, he didn’t know we practiced here at night, or that my recital was coming up!” Susie pouted and Phil’s brows furrowed, his eyes still locked on Dan’s. Dan felt like he was trapped in place, pinned under the proof that he hadn’t been as attentive as a good father would have been. As Phil had been.

“Well, your dad can be forgetful sometimes.” Phil turned away and Dan sighed in relief, but he also felt lost. Like Phil’s blue eyes had been the tether keeping him tied to the docks, and now he was floating away in a storm.

Dan shook his head, what was happening to him?

“Please, please a show before dinner?” Susie was whining at Phil as she finished up her snack and scampered over into the lounge.

“Alright,” Phil chuckled, following her into the room and turning on one of their many Disney movies.

As he watched his daughter and husband get excited over the beginning of Tangled, Dan finally stepped out of the doorway and made his way into the kitchen and began to make cup of coffee. His hands moved on autopilot. Coffee, cream, sugar. Soon enough he had a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, but all he could do is stare. How long had it been since he’d made Phil a cup of coffee, since he’d spent time with Phil.

“Uh oh, those are some existential crisis eyes,” Dan startled as Phil slipped into the room, some coffee slopping over onto his hand.

He sucked in air through his teeth.

“Oops,” Phil rushed to get him a cold rag to wipe the scalding liquid off. “Sorry, that was my fault. Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“No, its alright” Dan said, feeling too big for his own skin, uncomfortable with Phil so close to him. “Why do you say that though? I haven’t had an existential crisis in years.”

“Yeah I know,” Phil laughed a little and backed up to the other side of the kitchen, the dirty rag twisting around and around in his long, thin fingers. “You just seemed to be thinking hard about something.”

“Oh,” Dan took a sip of his coffee, relishing the burn of it down his throat. They were silent for a moment, Dan’s eyes locked on the floor tiles and Phil’s looking out the window. “Do you miss it?” Dan blurted out, his eyes darting up to meet his husband’s. “My existential crises?”

Phil’s eyebrows furrowed and a slightly confused smile flitted across his face. “Do I miss you staring at a wall for hours, trying to decide if life was worth living?” He laughed a little uncomfortably and Dan looked away. “I can’t say that I do.”

“Oh.” When was the last time Dan had even thought about the universe? Thought about anything other than the present moment. “I, um…”

“I’m just going to make some dinner for Susie,” Phil interrupted, setting the rag on the counter behind him and wiping his hands on the legs of his old, fading, (slightly too skinny for a 41 year old) jeans.

“Okay, I’m going to-“

“Go to your room and scroll through tumblr until 4 in the morning,” Phil laughed. “Not that much has changed in the last ten years Dan.”

But it had.

read the rest on ao3

#dan and phil #phan #phanfiction #parent!phan #angst

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