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v4mpyrebat · 1 year

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Love From The Other Side - Chapter 1

Hey VT fandom I know you’ve been hungry, so I decided to start writing again. If you like Billion Year War, multiverse theory, space and time travel and lots of making side characters important than this is just the fic for you!

Fic is located under the cut, but if you’d prefer I’ve also posted it on AO3, and I’d appreciate if you reblogged or gave some kudos! ENJOY!

The night was dark and unforgiving, as the sand that blew through the wind dusted the air and tainted the oxygen. Not as if the oxygen wasn’t already toxic, though by now those whose lungs hadn’t adapted had been long dead and gone. One gets used to the constant scratchy feeling in the back of their throat, as breathing feels 5 pounds heavier than it once did in one’s memory.

A figure stood lonesome at the end of a street, the handkerchief wrapped around their face doing little to stop the coarse, dry feeling in their mouth, serving more as to disguise their identity. The only sound they dared utter was to clear their throat, a congested rumble that sounded almost painful if done too often. A knife remained in their hand, which rested actively at their side, the grip tight and unwavering. Their clothes hung loosely on their body – looking about as unkempt as anyone else did in this environment — with tattered fabric that was stained with different hues of brown and deep auburn.

Their breathing was shallow yet heavy at the same time as if every intake of oxygen was more exhaustive than the last. They stumbled forward, the grip on the blade in their hand tightening as each slow and calculated step was taken. Continuing down the road, they neglected to look at their surroundings as their eyes locked onto something down from the end of the road. The rest of the scenery was irrelevant anyways, as once you’ve seen the same dilapidated and burnt-out city buildings about a thousand times, it loses any luster one could possibly ever have held for it.

The road was missing chunks of asphalt and full of potholes. As the figure dragged his feet along the pavement, the being of interest began to rear its ugly head as it awoke from its slumber.

Under the figure’s handkerchief mask, an unseen grin parted the lips of the future assailant’s mouth, revealing the sharp, grotesque, and uncared-for teeth hidden under the forgiving fabric that covered their face. The angry whirring as the tripod scrambled up off the ground was music to the figure’s ears, as the creature’s gangly legs stomped and dug into the sand in order to support itself.

The canon apparatus held under the abdomen of the tripod fired up, shooting rapidly at the figure's feet. This was a game to them, a tango to be danced as the figure gained speed towards the creature, running in a zig-zag motion to avoid the free fire of the attack quickly. Under the ear-bleeding vocalizations and ballistic shockwave that filled the areas was the eerie sound of the figure’s laugh. This was funny to them.

Oh, but the humorous part was yet to come, as once the figure had approached the tripod, they dashed to its left side, grabbing hold of its leg as they began to hoister themselves up. Making sure to avoid the sharp thorned parts of its limb, the person dodged the fire of the creature’s canon and ignored the loud howls of dismay erupted from the tripod. Hoisting themselves up, the figure positioned their feet strategically as they climbed up the long appendage, using the entirety of their upper body strength whilst doing so – somehow also managing to keep their knife in hand as well.

The tripod staggered from the weight of the human on its leg, its body moving in panicked ways as its canon fired in every direction with no particular target. This person knew what they were doing, easily overwhelming the simple alien as they were much easier to deal with when not only caught off guard but when on their lonesome.

Here came the tricky part – sliding off the leg and in a swift movement, the figure launched itself up onto the creature's “head”, their grip faltering for barely a moment before they were able to latch on. They held onto the tripod’s top, fingers having a tight grip on the underside of the hard carapace shell that protected the brain of the alien. Despite being about 40 feet in the air, the person had absolutely no fear, swinging forward using the momentum of the thrashing creature in order to pull themselves in front of the creature's head, hanging over the side of its exoskeleton.

With nothing but a smile, the figure took the knife held so tightly within their grip and raised it up in their arm, a guttural, inaudible laugh exiting their body as the weapon was slammed down into the exposed sensitive area of the tripod’s head, slicing right through any protective layers and splitting right into its brain. Yellow blood sprayed rapidly, splashing into the figure's face as they slammed the knife down a few more times for good measure. Afterward, they grabbed back hold of the carapace and pulled themselves back onto the hard area, keeping their body stable as the tripod screeched its ear-grating and painful final yelps.

The tripod’s three legs began to give out from under itself, shaking and bending in ways it was not developed for. They cracked and snapped like sticks and caused the entire body of the alien to shake before two of them fully broke off, causing the back side of the tripod to begin its fast plunge toward the unforgiving asphalt below.

In its dying moment, the guns of the monster fired like the last active neurons of a brain that have yet to fully give out. As the head of the beast fell through the air, the figure braced themselves for the eventual impact, the smile never leaving their face as they anticipated the familiar feeling – this was something they’d done countless times.

As the tripod hit the ground, sand rose around them in a storm cloud of dust, and the shock of the slam reverberated throughout the entire figure’s body and rattled their bones, sending a deep ache up their spinal cord and into their head.

The figure then flipped onto their back, breathing heavily as they relished in the feeling, allowing themselves to melt into the hard shell under their back. Yet, their ecstasy was short-lived, interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, followed directly by the cock of a gun.

“You’ve had your fun,” The figure didn’t even half to crane his neck up to know who was addressing them, the mature, grating, and whiney lisp-laced voice was enough to clue him in.

“Aww, five more minutes?” They whined in return, not even bothering to glance at the man as he stared dreamily up into the desolate sky.

Spencer was kind enough to walk into his field of vision, being even kinder and pointing a pistol right at him, the weapon rattling as it was directed at his forehead. “Enough, Ghost.”

Though addressing him directly, Spencer’s voice slightly wavered with the utterance of the name, as if he himself wasn’t entirely sure if that was who he was talking to.

“And if I don’t?” Ghost lifted his head, glaring sharply at the man above him.

Spencer scoffed, holding his gun steady as he used his free hand to rummage through the pockets of his thick brown trench coat, and once he located the item he was searching for, there was a moment of hesitation as he wrapped his fingers around said object, unbeknownst to Ghost.

“Well, I have something I believe you’ll want.”

#mod issac #venturiantale #vtpie #taleblr #johnny ghost #johnny toast #fanfic #vt fic #spencer acachalla #jimmy casket #billion year war #venturiantale pie #fanfiction #angst #ao3

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nyxx-j · 22 days

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Spooker is “you’re telling me a shrimp fried this rice?”

Ghost is “apartment complex? Really I find it quite simple”

Toast is “based? Based on what?”

#I don’t make the rules I just preach the truth #taleblr #venturiantale #johnny ghost #not a fic #venturiantale pie #p.i.e #p.i.e.#vt johnny ghost #fred spooker #johnny toast #nyxx_j random thoughts

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kazik-izakk · 7 months

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Friendly reminder that pixels on a screen =/= morality!

Sincerely, -A c-PTSD haver who's gone through significant trauma and gotten therapy for it!

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solesommerso · 2 years

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☆-September Project 17-☆

day 17~ bruise

∘ ༺ ☆༻ ∘

victor tan x reader

fluff, romance

warnings: talk of injury

“You’ve gotta stop getting shot.” Tan rolls his eyes at your tease, leaning back to let you wrap new bandages against the slice on his ribs that sits underneath the purpling bruise from where he was hit in the vest.

“I’m not trying to.” You huff, you’re well aware that Victor has never tried to get himself injured but you’re very much over the calls about him getting hurt.

“Just please be careful.” Your hand smoothes down his skin, brushing your thumb across the bruise that you know has to hurt. Tans hand comes to take yours away from his middle, interlacing your fingers instead.

“I will. And this will heal up in no time.” He assures, smiling softly before leaning to kiss your cheek sweetly.

“Mm you better, and for the record, that doesn’t make you getting hurt any better.”

“I know, I know. I already got chewed out by Hondo.”

#writing #vt #victor tan #victor tan x reader #september 22 fics

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pacinglikeghosts · 6 months

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happy stranger things day!! here is another excerpt that i've been working on lately from rom com au. no robin in this one, just a lot of delicious (imo) descriptions!

But she was headed to Vermont for another round of interviews about another town and their desolate economies, her own well-being be damned. Both the town in Rhode Island and the one in Western Massachusetts expressed their remorse for their once thriving economy, which had since suffered due to large retailers driving out the small businesses or slow seasons dragging down the booming economy of the busy season. Nancy could see the headline now: “Small-town America is dead, large retail and tourists amongst the reasons.” Or…maybe not that. Jesus Christ, she needed to get her head back in the game. Pulling onto the Main Street of what was dubbed by several magazines and newspapers to be “Vermont’s cutest small town you’ve never heard of,” Nancy was moderately unimpressed with the town before her. It was just like all the other towns she’d visited: a single stretch of road with businesses and homes in peeling candy colored paint jobs lining the sidewalks. Though the town in Rhode Island boasted a beach as its main tourist trap, or a mountain in Massachusetts, this town’s main attraction was a maple syrup factory. One of the largest in the state, they insisted on signage as she entered the center of town. Even the bed and breakfast, a quaint Victorian mansion someone generations ago painted a soft shade of Pepto Bismol pink and renovated into a livable hotel was just as sweet as the town made itself out to be. According to Nancy’s notes, The Sugar House Bed & Breakfast was run by Mary-Louise Abrams, an older widow that opened the hotel with her husband before he passed as a sort of bucket list dream, but since his death, Mary-Louise worked with her only daughter Daisy to keep the business afloat. “Ah, yes, we spoke on the phone!” Mary-Louise beamed when Nancy checked in. “What you’re working on sounds positively amazing, dear. This will do great things for our little town. I’m looking forward to speaking with you, just let me finish up here.” Nancy smiled, taking her key from the desk. “There’s no rush. If you don’t mind, I might go freshen up before we get to talking, I’ve been in the car all morning.” “Go right on ahead, sweetheart. I’ll pull together some coffees and pastries for us and you come down when you’re ready. I’ll be in the office, it’s right through this doorway.”

...can you tell i grew up driving around new england on the weekends exploring with my family? this doesn't have a title yet, but once it does i'll give y'all a proper tag to follow along with! very excited about this au

#tangled au boat scene is coming too #eventually i promise #i just want to write for fun rn this semester has been hell #fun fact a college i almost went to had a maple syruping class #it was in NH not VT though #just new england things #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #nancy x robin #melodicchaos fics #untitled rom com au

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orionsces · 9 months

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"Ghost loved him and that was enough."

Johnny Ghost, Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaire attempts to make the perfect dinner night for his husband Johnny Toast, but literally everything goes wrong in every way imaginable.

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Soft skies painted with gentle pastels with a kind brushing of pinks and yellows. The clouds hung as if they were going to kiss the skyline, and the blossoming from trees fluttered charming the ground with its gentle fall.

The warm wind flowed through his hair as the sounds of the cicadas creaked and chirped on the leafy trees surrounding the stoplight. An hour away from Toast's house after running some errands in the next city over for specific supplies for their future investigations.

Sipping from his Starbucks while he waited for the lights to turn bright green, he smiled as he hadn't had a sweet coffee in a while.

The city light accompanied him as he started to drive back home, glowing lights fading into the background as he thought about his day.

Visiting various stores with quickly written lists for each was troubling, to say the least, but he did get his special treats from Starbucks so it mellowed out.

Ghost wasn't able to join him due to his important appointment of 'staring into space for two hours.' which he was unfortunately unable to cancel. Toast didn't mind about his husband's quirks since that just meant he could take his adorable Barbie branded ride around without judgment.

Humming along to the radio to Dancing Queen from ABBA as he tapped along to the beat of the song onto his driver's wheel, he felt peaceful on that drive back. Happily thinking about the trashy pizza they'll order again then cuddle to sleep to some weird paranormal soap operas that Ghost enjoyed for background noise. Ghost anxiously was rushing around as if he was held at gunpoint to set up the perfect date for his husband, the anxiety that he pretend that he didn't have was getting to him with smooth charm.

Mixing, grabbing various ingredients, and putting them in without measurement needed as he followed a recipe online showing him a good recipe for pasta and salad.

Rushing through Cindy's background story about her family and heritage to figure out how to boil water.

Ghost didn't fancy himself a cook because he wasn't.

Jimmy observing all of this in their mind-scape just scoffed at him, ridiculing him while he critiqued things Ghost was doing wrong. The alter watching this anxious mess run around, facing the consequences of his actions for starting food late.

On the other hand, the wee optimistic voice of his alter softly encouraged him to keep going. Gregory hyped up Ghost's culinary skills while Jimmy gave some sarcastic stabs at Ghost's already wounded self-esteem.

"Don't be…b-be a mean- uhm… meanie Jim! You promised…" Gregory pouted as Jimmy felt a knife of guilt stab into his heart that he had, with a small grumble back to the child he attempted to be friendlier. Knowing that Gregory's version of being nicer was too pure, he did his best to oblige the little alter's whimpering plea. His pasta almost bubbled over while he dissociated listening to the two squabbles with each other, pouring the steaming liquid down the drain of the sink as the cold water caused the steam to nearly blow into his face.

"Did you even make the sauce or cook the meat yet Ghostie~?" Jimmy slurred to piss off his host, Ghost facepalming as a reply because his foresight didn't count for him being an idiot.

Doing his best to hide the snickering, Jimmy did his best to the front to help Ghost continue. Finding it odd that he was out to cook rather than murder people, he pressed on with a simple shrug and Gregory cheered him on and helped Ghost.

Knowing that his host was mentally drained and was going to freak out anyways at the sight of blood, he took a deep breath before washing his hands carefully. Looking at the helpful sign that Toast put up for him, thankfully Jimmy was able to read the recipe that Ghost left open on his phone.

Glancing at the amounts with time and the ingredients in front of him, he knew he could do this while Ghost recharged himself. He cracked his fingers in preparation, huffing out an exhausted breath as he wasn't ready to be romantic with Toast nor cook a dinner, it'd been a while since he had last cooked one after all. Fully aware that Ghost takes a while to come back to the front, he mentally tried preparing knife-related flirts for their toaster.

Quickly he poured the cooked pasta noodles into a small bowl, putting them into the microwave for them to keep their temperature while he took a glance at the raw meat. His mouth watering at the sight before snapping himself back.

"Alright, you got this, you got this Jimmy! This is easy, you just gotta cook some meat in a pan above a fire for…." He paused before looking back at the recipe.

"10 minutes or more depending on the oven…? I thought all ovens were the same- whatever."

He stopped himself from talking more to himself before he ground the hamburger with his hands, grinning with mania as he plopped the bloodied meat onto the warm pan.

Humming to a song while he cooked, he did his best to check if Toast was nearby since he could come home any minute. Trying to think of all the plans that Ghost had for the dinner with the help of Gregory he made a list of what he needed to do before Toast came back home. Stirring the sauce and meat together before he grabbed the noodles to mix them all, wiping a single bead of sweat from his forehead as he turned off the stove top and placed a lid on his pan.

"Okay, decorate the table and throw rose petals everywhere, get those stupid fake candles out of the Halloween decorations, make a bouquet and finally make dessert? I ain't doing that-"

Jimmy rolled his eyes as he walked around the house, narrating all his actions while grabbing various items from different places. Decorating the entryway for Toast with cheap-looking rose petals guiding them to the table, setting a table blanket and the candles on it.

Flicking them on with the switch, before he swiftly took in the canvas of his masterpiece. While his dessert was cooking in the oven, gently the scent of sweets wafted in the air slowly.

It looked horrible but he didn't care about how saccharine the scene before him was. All that mattered was knocking that toaster oven off his feet with his charm and grace, Gregory gagging at the two before him gushing over someone and saying they have cooties. "Hello! I'm back!"

The British voice called out through the broken silence, Jimmy turning his head to look behind him at the swung front door with an awkward greeting.

"Hi…?" Appalled by the fact Toast back way earlier than expected, he crossed his arms towards his partner who tilted his head like a confused dog.

"You're back super early! I thought you'd be out longer and stuff…" He became gloomy and whined like a small child, Toast chucking at him with sincerity before apologizing.

"Did you need me to come back later or something?" Out of habit, he rubbed the back of his neck before taking in the fact that Jimmy was standing in a romantically decorated room.

He looked around in a frenzy before ricocheting a stare back at Jimmy again to confirm it who nodded in a silent answer.

"Oooh, I'm so sorry sir!" He blushed embarrassed, knowing that he put a lot of effort into this.

"I love it! It's so… cute!" He gushed before going over to engulf his beloved in a bear-hug as he grumbled out insults and flirted in response, aware that Ghost is co-fronting beside Jimmy now. His face was covered in kisses and blush because of Toast, they hugged him back as they laughed at the situation. "I'm glad you like it, I…no no wait we worked super hard on it!" Patting themselves on the back before the smell of burning sprinkled into the air along with the smoke. Toast lifted Ghost down as he rushed to the oven, opening it to smoke and coughing in the process.

"My fucking…. muffins… Goddammit."

The fire alarm blared at the two, as Ghost threw the pan of his burnt object resembling muffins out the window that Toast opened to let out the smoke. Maneuvering around as he seized the fire extinguisher and fumbled with it, Toast cut off their effort with an uncomplicated spray of foam onto their oven.

It wasn't long until the fire department came to their house, nothing was burnt or damaged except Ghost's dignity as they sat both outside. Ghost brings out the tablecloth for them to sit on like a picnic blanket, leaning onto Toast for comfort who held his hand to ease his anxiety. "I'm so sorry! God this fucking stinks…" Ghost flopped over on the blanket, looking up at the night sky above them. Crossing his arms as he took in the stars then looked over to Toast with shame. Toast rested beside him, holding his hand again before giving Ghost a gentle smile.

"Hey, I still loved it! Don't be so upset sir, it was adorable while it lasted, and hey, at least I can see your adorable face again." He placed his hand on Ghost's cheek which heated up slowly with a blush while his beloved's frown turned into an exhausted smile.

"Yeah… I guess you're right, at least we have this sky to look at while our house clears out of smoke." Joking around the best he could, he eased more into Toast before they cuddled each other.

They never did eat that spaghetti and Jimmy never made that salad but it didn't matter to Toast, he loved Ghost despite everything that happened. The idea of him caring that much for someone like him, made his heart race and he looked at his beloved beside him as if he sewed the stars in the sky they were gazing at.

Ghost loved him and that was enough.

#johnny ghost #johnny toast #p.i.e #vt #venturiantale #toastedghost #ghost x toast #orion's writings #very gay fic

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itsamepatches · 7 months

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""edgy"" veggietales fics written by nonfans on AO3 be like

"title: sexy fruit talez and larry the cucumber has sex with u and peas are squashed by god

summary: I wrote while high lol :)

content: rape, vore, underage, violence, major character death rating: Explicit"

#i'm glad vt peeps are posting their fics on there because honestly 'fics' like these are boring as hell and kinda nasty #no seriously that's how I started writing vt fics because I was tired of seeing these weak edgy fics #veggietales #veggie tales

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velvettapeworm · 4 months

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So Sang the Riverman

#vt writing #so sang the riverman #gothic fiction #gothic literature #gay literature #gay fiction #queer fiction #queer lit #queer literature #lit fic

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mbat · 5 months

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before i pass out for the night. since my brain is back on dan and phil as if its 2016 or something i need to put this out into the world. this isnt some sort of important life changing post, just a personal funny thing

so when i was 13 and fixating on dan and phil, i read a lot of fanfics. like, i guarantee that even after all these years that, if i had the statistics, that fandom was the one i read the most fanfics for and constantly. i couldnt tell you what nearly any of them were about, and i have a feeling that many of them are probably lost to time by now. i also dont know if i need to mention that yeah, a lot of them were shipping, and yes ive long grown out of that. (the dnp fandom is actually what made me grow out of that)

anyway all this to say that over the last 6 years after i stopped fixating on dan and phil, one fanfic stuck with me and i just. i think about it every once in a while. its been over half a decade. it wasnt a groundbreaking fic, i dont remember any quotes or specifics, just the premise as of at least the first few chapters. idk why it stuck with me

it was literally a fic about. if the world had gotten to a point where almost every child was born as like, a science baby instead of a natural baby, and phil was a science baby, but dan was a natural baby. and there was somehow this like, thing where the science babies would bully the natural babies for some reason idek, and this was a highschool setting and i think dan was a new kid in school. and what gets me about the fic is that dan was some small shy scared kid and phil was some mean jerk bully. and how wild that is compared to how they are in real life

this isnt me trying to find the fic or the person who wrote it or any of that, this is literally just. i remember this fic at least once every few months and i needed to get it out of my brain somewhere

#there are few fics that i remember several years after i read them the first time. this is one of them #depressingly. some of the fics that are on that list are most definitely gone by now #there was one in the vt fandom i still think about 6 years later that i loved. but the person who wrote it hated it :[#the others that are on that list off the top of my head are the hlvrai mermaid fic and the hlvrai alien weed fic #my brain latches onto the most random fics to remember forever lol #my post #dan and phil #<- tagging for blog purposes. not because i want people to see this #if you see this post. good for you i guess ajfjshd #bur seriously if you know the fic/author of what im talking about. i mean itd be neat to find it again. but dont bother them yknow #its also wild how thats like. such a dystopian novel premise. not in a bad way just a neutral way #i love the premises that people come up with for fanfiction. like. ANYTHING can be a fanfic premise and i find that so magical #i had a fanfic premise that was originally meant to be a dnp fanfic that ive long since changed to be an original thing lol #and its... a weird premise lol. at least i think so #anyway since this is the bottom of the tags and no ones going to read this. i gotta say i have so many thoughts on dnp fanfic culture #and my personal relationship with it which i think. my personal relationship with it was heavily influenced by me being like.#transmasc + mlm but not knowing either yet and how wild that is to look back on #its why i love that one meme pic thats like. 'straight girls who fetishize mlm look like this in 5 years' and it shows a pic of jessie #jessie from breaking bad sorry the tag length ran out #but anyway im not gonna make full posts about that. just wanted to mention it somewhere lol

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rumor-weed · 4 months

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Secret Santa gift for @madame-blueberry

“How do I look?” Bob asked, adjusting his tie and nervously fiddling with the collar of his suit. “Ya look great, Bob! Don’t sweat it!” Larry chirped, smiling at his best friend from behind him in the mirror. “It’s a big day for her; I don’t want to disappoint.” “It’s a big day for both of you,” Larry pointed out. “You’re both getting married. To each other!” “I know, but Megan’s so worried about everything being perfect. It has to be perfect for her.” “Does it, Bob? Or are you just usin’ Megan as an excuse?” Bob stiffened at the accusation, and without turning around, he nervously laughed, “What do you mean?” “I mean, I think you’re the one nervous, and you’re the one who wants it to be perfect. You’re treatin’ this like one of the shows! Ya can’t direct your weddin’ -” “I can too!” Bob blurted out, indignant, before catching himself. “I mean, I - for her, not because I -” he broke off abruptly, and he said, “So what if I want it to be perfect? It’s supposed to be grand and beautiful, and… and I had this planned for so long, since I was a kid, and…” Larry nodded and said, “I know, Bob, but you’re too close to the worry to wedding - err, the wedding to worry. Nothin’s gonna go wrong!” “What if she changes her mind? What if she realizes she doesn’t like me like that?” Bob fretted. Larry gave a half smile. “Really, Bob? Ya don’t think she loves ya? She’s Madame Blueberry. She gave up a career on Broadway to work with ya on the show. She had that role in the Funny Girl revival - we couldn’t escape her singin’ Don’t Rain on My Parade whenever she had a minute to practice, and she gave it up to do more shows with you when you offered.” “Well, she failed that audition like, three times, but I get it,” Bob said, and he sighed. “Well, what if she comes to her senses? What if she realizes she can do better?” “She wants ya Bob, and what Megan wants, Megan gets. I don’t wanna be the one who has to go out there on your behalf and tell her ya got cold feet.” “Won’t be the first time she’s shot the messenger, but I made her promise not to bring her pistol this time,” Bob said. “If that makes it better.” “Nope, I’m not takin’ the chance, Bob.” “Is everyone else ready? The - the ring bearer, and the flower girl - are they -? Do they have the ring? The flowers? Do they know what to do?” “Egg Boy and Bathroom Girl are very capable, don’t worry!” “I’m nervous, Larry. What if I forget what to say when I see her?” “I’ll mouth the words to ya,” Larry said, adding, “I even wrote down what I remembered of your vows, so in case ya forget, they’re right here.” Bob turned and took the piece of paper from Larry, and he smiled tearfully. “You’re such a good friend, I - wait a minute,” he looked down at the paper and narrowed his eyes. “Larry, these aren’t my vows! These are just lines you wrote down from that weird Victorian play that predicted 9/11.” “Oh! Yeah, but they’re pretty romantic!” “I’m not reading these to her. I remember my vows; it’s fine,” Bob said, handing Larry back the note. There was a knock on the door, and Nezzer popped his head into the room. “Hope you’re ready - everyone’s seated, and it’s time to start.” “Okay, we’ll be right out. Thank you, Mr. Nezzer.” Bob answered hurriedly, waving him off. “You ready, Bob?” Larry asked as Nezzer left. Bob thought of Megan then: her laughter, smile, sparkling eyes, and cruel but playful teasing. He loved every moment with her, and he would love every second of their future. “You ready?” Larry repeated, looking concerned at Bob’s hesitation. Bob smiled then. “I’m ready. In fact, I can hardly wait.”

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, and it was as beautiful as Bob had hoped for, though not nearly as beautiful as his new wife was. Wife. He loved that he could call her that now. He rolled the word around in his mind as a tired Megan slumbered beside him in their wedding bed. Even now, he admired her beauty, gentle and slow breathing, fluttering eyelashes, and content, resting frown. Her blonde wig had been set aside, and her dark brown curls draped across the silk pillowcase. He was also tired from the wedding, but the day's excitement kept him awake, replaying the ceremony on a seemingly endless loop. It starts when he sees her walking down the aisle, her cheeks glowing pink and her elegant wedding dress and veil seemingly designed to rival Princess Diana’s in glamour, making her appear as if she is effortlessly floating among the flower petals. His first instinct is to draw his breath in awe and hold it until his heart begins to beat again. It fast-forwards then to when she’s standing in front of him, and instinctively, he reaches out to gently brush her cheek with the back of his hand affectionately. She doesn’t complain that he might ruin her makeup; she merely smiles, her eyes crinkling joyfully at the edges. Suddenly, he’s aware the officiant is speaking, and he remembers that there’s an audience, though, for the moment before, he would’ve sworn it was just the two of them. They say their vows, and he recites them without fail, and when it’s her turn, he finds himself hypnotized by how she forms her red-stained lips around each accented word and how she sews a tiny smile into each syllable. He savors the moment again when they share their first kiss as a married couple, pressing his lips into hers, melting a little when she embraces him passionately. He feels a little chill run down his spine. Before he knows it, his memory has caught up to the reception. He only steps on her foot once, clumsily, because he is too busy staring into her eyes to watch his feet. They laugh it off, and as their dance ends, she kisses him again, and his heart soars. This memory melts away, and he returns to the ceremony, watching her glide towards him down the aisle. This time, he is awoken from this memory by a sleepy, murmuring voice, “Robert, go to bed, mon ange.” “I’m sorry, Megan. Did I wake you?” “Non, but it’s been a long day. You should sleep. We have our honeymoon tomorrow. I cannot wait to show you Paris, but it is a very long flight.” Bob sighed, snuggling under the covers with his wife. “I love you.” “And I you,” she answered with a smile, curling up against him, “Or else I wouldn’t have married you. Now, goodnight, I am very tired.” He chuckled and kissed her goodnight on the forehead, and he closed his eyes and let his memories turn into dreams.

#veggietales Drabble #veggietales fic #veggietales fanfic #vt fic #vt fanfic #I cannot remember my fic tag for the life of me

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v4mpyrebat · 1 year

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Love From The Other Side - Chapter 3

this ones a bit shorter, but leads up to big thing! had a rough past two weeks, but trying to stay consistent this time and work at my own pace. enjoyyy! once again, available on AO3 or below the cut, tell me your thoughts!

“Don’t waste the only time you have left.”

It wasn’t the words themself that bothered Spencer, but the implications behind them.

For some reason unbeknownst to himself, the thought of everything being for nothing was something that hadn’t bothered him until now. ...now.

Perhaps it had been because he had basically no social contact for the past…ever. And so the only beliefs he ever lived with came from the unfaltering self-assured nonsense that spewed from his brain.

Guess a reality check from someone else was enough to spiral his entire thought process – a kind of spiraling that hadn’t ever affected him up until the war.

Sometimes he missed that miserable, self-confident son of a bitch that was his younger self.

The sun began to set around him as he made his way home and out of the city. The scenery around him was about as disheveled as he felt, but suppose it makes sense as we are all products of our environment. That deep feeling of hopelessness crawled at his stomach and tugged at him, making this walk far more of a hindrance than Spencer cared for. ...for.

Emotions like this did not serve him. They were a waste of energy and only proved to waste his time.

Okay, so he was wasting time by trying to save the universe. He was wasting time by feeling emotional about wasting time.

But what the hell is time if there is no future?

What even constitutes there being a future if you have no hope for one?

As he walked, he soaked in the sights of the city that he rarely ever saw. He wondered how many people once lived and used these buildings regularly, and even then, how many of them died in the carnage and now in death had nothing of remembrance to their prior existence. What a shitty way to go out – with no one to remember who you were, and no one to remember what you’ve done.

The totaled cars, the abandoned pieces of trash, and the faded shadows of those who once stood.

This was all proof that people were here. Proof that, despite how shitty the world even used to be, people lived. Lived in spite of themselves, in spite of their conditions – no matter how mundane they may seem even now. They were here because they were here. No rhyme, no reason.

Years ago, Spencer might've thought it was the end of the world when the internet cut out, yet it never truly deeply bothered him as much as he said or felt it did.

Now, at the end of the world, the mundane was seldom, and living in spite of yourself was dying because death felt more alive than living itself.

Taking in a deep breath, Spencer stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to rest. He had a long way back anyways.

The question of “why” popped back into his head again.

Why was he doing all this if he had no one who cared for him? Did he have anything to live for, something to work for?

Why did it matter so much to him? It wasn’t as if he originally did much with his life.

Yeah, yeah, saving billions of lives for people who don’t know him, won’t notice, and won’t care.

Throughout the years, it had always been his dream to wake up from this nightmare, as if it was once again just a normal Tuesday, and the apocalypse was simply something idealized in movies. But would he save the world, would all this suffering be for nothing?

Stuck in his thoughts, it took Spencer a moment before he checked back into reality.

A booming, ear-bleeding metal droning suddenly bombarded his ears. As the sound hovered over him, upon instinct he ducked into the nearest building and slid down against the concrete wall, choosing to hide under what little ceiling was left. Rubble surrounded him, and as the sun set, there went his only source of light as it slowly faded from the broken cracks in the wall and ceiling.

Loud stomps from outside shook the ground around him, as he attempted to regain his composure. Go figure, a tripod. Most likely it was coming back for its friend that Ghost had far too much fun killing.

Though, what truly startled Spencer wasn’t the tripod.

It was what was inside the room with him. ...him.

His breath hitched as he tried to force his eyes to adjust to the spreading darkness, trying to analyze the danger level of his current situation.

There was a sound he could hear, barely audible over the loud yowls of the creature outside.

He finally got a good look around the room, and when he did, his heart dropped to his stomach.

Far in the corner, it sat, huddled up and shaking immensely with fear, soft sobs echoing from its form.

This was no creature…

It was a child.

#mod issac #venturiantale pie #venturiantalepie #taleblr #Spencer Acachalla #fanfic #VT #vt fanfic #vtpie #vt fic #johnny ghost #oc #fanfiction #billion year war #meow #ao3 #venturiantale

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