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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 4 months

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Just Another Night at Sparky's

(Disclaimer: Ness/WaiterPat and Jack/Cabbie!Cory are not my creations. I gave Jack his name because he wasn't given one in the movie. Now, one of the characters you'll be seeing here technically belongs to me, but I don't really consider him a full fanego.)

(I was already planning to write for Ness and Jack, but after I learned how Mark was originally intended to play the role of that first security guard who died, I decided to adopt that abandoned character. Go here for headcanons and a more thorough explanation.)

(Certain plot-points in this story were inspired by @flawlessstriker and @insane4fandoms! These two are very talented artists, and I'm not sure I would've thought of such clever/funny easter eggs if I hadn't seen some of their own work, so please go check out their blogs and show them some love!)

(Trigger Warnings: food and drink, eating/drinking, implied trauma, mentions of past violence, mentions of blood, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

In Ness’ personal experience, the people who dined at Sparky’s could be divided into three sections on a metaphorical pie chart.

Twenty-four percent of customers were. . .just a little off. Not like that was necessarily a bad thing, mind you. Working in the restaurant business meant having to interact with lots of people each and every day. At some point, you’d learn to pick up on certain things that were odd in the way you couldn’t quite put your finger on (or, perhaps you just knew deep down that you didn’t want to).

Ness strolled out of the kitchen and into the seating area, expertly balancing a tray on one hand. He approached a couple of bespectacled young women in one corner of the diner.

Their visits to Sparky’s were a bit sporadic, but they never failed to claim that one booth in the corner that no-one else ever sat at no matter how crowded the joint was. The backpacks they always hauled along were positioned further up the booth’s seat cushions, half-open and nearly overspilling with various books.

They always used indoor voices, but he could still pick up bits and pieces of their conversation whenever he was near.

Tonight was no different:

“—he’ll be hungrier than usual,” murmured the one on the left, who boasted short, wavy hair that had been dyed a dark shade of violet. It complimented her shirt, which read ADOPT A FAMILIAR at the top. Pictures of creepy-looking critters were displayed beneath the message, orange-eyed and outlined by blue against the black fabric. “And he’ll need a live one this time.”

“Ooh,” replied the one on the right, who sported a yellow shirt with the screen-printed likeness of some obscure, spikey-haired cartoon character near the collar. A blonde ponytail spilled out from the back of her ball cap. “Who’s it gonna be? The lady whose eyes were found in that jar last month?”

“Nah, she’ll be in some psych ward. Too far-gone to keep on the playing board, y’know?” A sly grin etched its way across Urban Fantasy Nerd’s features. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to choose. Your guy is making the delivery, after all.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Cartoon-Fan snickered in a way that was just a teensy bit unhinged. “I can already see him slipping on some of the blood."

“Third time’s a charm?” Ness asked as he halted, carefully setting this duo’s Usual on the table.

(Two milkshakes: one chocolate, the other strawberry. Yeah, it was kind of basic, but he wasn’t too much of a judgemental guy. Besides, Sparky’s shakes were a much safer option than the lilac-colored drinks that chicken shack around the corner had started selling. And Ness didn’t just carry that opinion because of his employment. During one of his typical night-walks, he’d passed an alley just in time to see said purple beverage oozing through said chicken shack’s windows. The strong, sugary smell wafting off it had reminded him of prion disease.)

The girls both paused. Though they smiled up at him and offered quiet “Thank-yous,” as they moved their respective, sticker-covered laptops out of the way, visible confusion mixed itself into their gratitude.

“For the university’s creative writing contest, I mean,” Ness elaborated. “There were articles in the paper about the last two, and I saw your pictures in the list of winners. Congratulations, by the way.”

“. . .Oh,” Urban Fantasy Nerd answered, exchanging careful glances with her friend. “Yeah. Writing. Let’s go with that.”

“If anyone asks, we were also writing here two months ago,” Cartoon-Fan added with a conspiratory wink. “On Friday, between five-thirty and nine o’clock.”

Ness chuckled, raising one hand to pull an invisible zipper over his lips. “You’ve got it. Enjoy.”

As he retraced his steps to organize some stuff behind the coffee counter, a little voice in the back of his theater-trained head wondered if the girls’ tones had been joking enough. Unlike many times before, he pushed that voice aside.

On one hand, missing person cases did always seem to pop up on the news channels a few days after the two students stopped by to enjoy milkshakes while typing away and occasionally turning the screens of their laptops toward one another.

On the other hand. . .well, those cases were always located states and states away, typically near more seaside areas. None of them had been anywhere close to Utah. (Not yet, at least.)

Besides, even if those girls were somehow connected to more sinister things than their coursework, they were still very nice. Good tippers, too. Nowhere near the worst patrons Ness had served in his time.

The strange customers almost always seemed to come in pairs.

Like the duo of twenty-somethings from last week. One sported ginger hair and a She/They button pinned to their jacket. The soot-stains on said jacket had been very obvious, as were the burn scars on their palms, but she’d still been a delight to make smalltalk with.

The other, a pale young man, had been much more quiet, but still friendly. He’d kept peering through the window at (what was presumably) his or his friend’s car, shakily fidgeting with the headphones around his neck, so it’d taken some time for Ness to realize that his eyes were just as reflective as mirrors.

(For the duration of their stay, the jukebox over by the counter had spat out songs that most certainly weren’t on its index cards. Fine, that might’ve caught Ness a bit off-guard at first, but he still knew to appreciate variety.)

Or the two men who’d come in a few months ago, wearing battered navy-blue bomber jackets and thousand-yard-stares. The one with a dyed-red fauxhawk had screamed and practically leapt out of his skin when Ness came over with menus and his usual greeting, but he’d apologized soon enough. After giving Ness a thorough look-over, that is.

His companion, a similarly dark-eyed man with a larynx that could only be found on seasoned musicians, had muttered, “Don’t mind him. We’ve just. . .had a bit of a rough trip.” His voice hadn’t been unkind, but he’d kept glancing at Ness whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.

Well, perhaps that particular pair had broken the trend a bit. Because a few hours after they’d paid for their food and left, a lone traveler had come in.

His bloodshot eyes—which Ness could’ve sworn were orange instead of brown—had never stopped bulging, never stopped darting this way and that above his rictus of a smile. When he wasn’t speaking, he’d hum or murmur things with a shakiness that was typically found in rabid dogs.

He’d asked for way more coffee refills than could ever be considered healthy, as well as if Ness had seen anyone fitting the descriptions of Red-Haired-Screamer and Wary-Possible-Musician. Ness, following his instincts, had said no, to which the loner started simply shaking his head and grinning with a mouthful of teeth that looked a smidge too sharp.

Or the scruffy man who'd started coming in for breakfast every other week with his young sister in tow. He was living proof that you could recognize someone without officially knowing them. After all, it was pretty damn easy for Ness to remember almost making eye-contact with him, barely moving out of reach of his flashlight’s beam in time, and then having the seconds feel like hours as he watched him shake his head and mutter to himself about seeing things.

It wasn’t like that’d been Ness’ first little midnight rendezvous around Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaria. Just like how that particular man wasn’t the first security guard who’d gotten dangerously close to spotting him during his unofficial, self-driven investigations.

For the record, Ness knew that said investigations weren’t legal—especially not if you counted some of the things he’d. . .borrowed from the old animatronic jamboree restaurant—but he’d made his peace with that.

He hadn’t been sneaking around there to deal drugs or partake in any himself.

He wasn’t exactly chasing the adrenaline that always came with an evening full of ducking around corners and trying to ignore how loud his shoes sounded against linoleum floors when he rushed to find anything he could feasibly hide behind, underneath, or inside of.

He never meant any harm when it came to snooping.

It was just a simple case of having a little too much curiosity.

Thankfully, Security Guard #13 still had yet to show up at Ness’ place with some accompanying cops, so it seemed he didn’t recognize Ness as anything other than a humble waiter. (Or, if he did actually recognize Ness from that night, then he was miraculously chill enough to not bring it up and get him in trouble.)

The very first time they’d paid Sparky’s a visit, it would’ve been impossible to ignore the distinct smell that had been wafting off of Security Guard #13. It’d had a bite to it; like machine oil mixed with something much more. . .organic.

From that bleak look Ness had seen in his eyes, Security Guard #13 was most certainly NOT what anyone could call unbothered, but he was still polite. Plus, Kid Sister was the type who just deserved all the crayons in the world, what with the little masterpieces she’d decorated the paper menus with.

So, yeah. There was a genuine difference between oddball customers and customers that made you lose some of your faith in humanity.

People who asked for trout to be blended into their yogurt parfait or for their donuts to be topped with slices of pickles that had gathered fuzz from their mysterious journeys at the back of the refrigerator were still easier to handle than people who threw temper tantrums because they didn’t get a refill in under thirty seconds.

Back to the pie-chart—another forty-six percent of customers were perfectly decent and standard.

Plenty of the locals had a soft spot for this joint; Ness had lost count of all the times he’d been told that the pancakes served here were some of the best on planet Earth. Yeah, praise like that technically wasn’t directed at him, but the cooks were great people to work with, so it still made him happy to relay said praise to them.

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t awkward for someone to confusedly ask if they’d already seen him working at the bar on the other side of town. Even so, that once-a-month occurrence always left him amused rather than annoyed. If anything, it attested to that particular customer’s observation skills.

Sure, he and Sans were identical twins—the fact that their uncle had mixed them up on several different occasions when they were little was still a running joke in the family. But it’d been years since Sans had decided to remedy that via a skeleton face-mask and a dark blue leather jacket, and he’d made a habit to don both aforementioned garments each day ever since then. (Ness was still in partial disbelief that the manager at Grillby’s was cool enough to let Sans wear them over his uniform.)

Just as many of Sans’ customers apparently ended up mistaking him for Ness. Sans got a nice little kick out of that, of course. He hadn’t just been born with a comedic heart—it truly seemed every bone in his body was a funny one. Some people would argue that he just delivered puns upon more puns upon even more puns, but Ness knew his brother better than that.

After all, Sans had been the one to train him to deal with the last category of customers: the thirty percent of entitled neanderthals who thought treating staff as less than human would somehow magically make their miserable lives more interesting.

“Food work is all about balance,” Sans had explained sometime after he and Ness had grown tall enough to take plates and cups from a counter without having to stand on their tip-toes. “You’ve gotta be nice and still let people know that you won’t take their crap. If they’re civil, then you’re helpful. But if they’re rude. . .” Sans had paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “. . .then you have a little fun.”

Ness had always been a pretty fast learner. It’d taken a week or so of practice, yeah, but with his twin’s help, he’d developed a tongue sharp enough to rival any butcher knife in the kitchen.

“You use a lot of big words for a waiter,” snorted a wannabe business bigshot with a wrinkled clip-on tie and a way, waaaaaay over-gelled hairdo that spoke volumes of desperation.

Ness, who’d been explaining the differences between certain ingredients and flavor-enhancing chemicals because Hair Gel’s girlfriend had asked a fair question about the smoothies on the menu, barely batted an eyelid when he came back with, “And you smell a lot like hotdog water for someone who apparently doesn’t work with food.”

“This was the WORST thing I’ve ever put in my mouth!” Exclaimed a woman with an unidentifiable crust caked around the corners of her eyes and an ill-fitting shirt that was advertising some essential oil brand.

“I highly doubt that,” Ness mentioned, raising an eyebrow as he took the plate (which was suspiciously much emptier than when he’d first brought it out) from her table, “but whatever you say. . .”

“Oh! Thank you!” A tiny boy who couldn’t have been older than seven chirped, bouncing in his seat when Ness placed a sundae down in front of him.

Ness had been about to reply, but the boy’s mother—a lady who was trying very hard to look posh (but not succeeding very well due her asymmetrical haircut, as well as all the little green marks around the jewelry she was practically drowning in)—cut him off.

“You don’t need to thank him, sweetheart,” she’d instructed, reaching across the table to corral her son. “That’s his job.”

That one had, admittedly, forced Ness to take a deep breath and appeal to his higher self for a few seconds. Despite this, he’d still made sure to look that Karen dead in the eyes when he observed, “I’m not sure what your problem is, ma’am. But it must be hard for you to pronounce.”

(At least the boy didn’t seem to be too influenced; his bright eyes were nothing but apologetic when Ness came back with the check.)

The relative silence was shattered by the jingling call of that little bell suspended over the front entrance. Ness blinked, his train of thought screeching to a halt. He glanced over in the door’s direction, grinning at a familiar sight.

Another regular; one that Ness got to have actual conversations with on nights like tonight.

Mason glanced around at all the empty tables, brushing back his nearly shoulder-length raven hair and quickly getting the hint that he could just seat himself.

A golden retriever trotted beside him, connected to a leash in his hand via a pink vest that’d been fastened around her shoulders and belly. It was adorned by black velcro straps that read THERAPY DOG in a bold white font. The forest-green sherpa hoodie Mason always seemed to wear was only about half as fluffy as her fur.

Ness ducked into the kitchen. No more than three seconds had passed before the last cook on duty for tonight—a lanky blonde guy who was perhaps the most unapologetically flamboyant foodie you could ever have the honor of knowing—called, “Order Up! Your buddies’ Usuals, fresh from that babbling kiddie pool of oil.”

Dylan set a triad of dishes onto a waiting platter: the first held a stack of waffles (much like Sparky’s pancakes, their recipe was a secret that his very own grandmother had entrusted him with) and fried chicken tenders. The second supported a small mound of bacon. The third was adorned by a couple club sandwiches with a side of mozzarella sticks.

“Thanks, man. Right on time,” Ness called back as he hefted the platter up, balancing it on the anterior region of his forearm like he'd been taught so long ago, and traipsed back out. The door swung to and fro behind him as he headed over to Booth Five.

Though she wasn’t actually in the booth, Checkers was still right by her owner’s side, sitting in a way that could almost remind you of those lion statues guarding the entrance to a Chinese temple. She spotted Ness before Mason did. Her ears perked up, tail starting to wag. Her tongue lapped in and out of her mouth like a party favor as she smiled in that way only dogs could.

Mason, who’d been gazing through the window and fidgeting with his hoodie’s drawstrings, ever-so-slightly flinched as Ness began setting the plates down on the table with a chorus of small clunks. He blinked at the food, as if suddenly remembering the weekly tradition he’d made here.

“How do you always do that?” Mason asked as he turned his head toward Ness, a small smile etching its way across his features.

“Magic,” Ness answered. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He carried the now empty tray back over to the counter. There, his hands became a blur as he snatched up the coffee pot and produced a trio of mugs. After stirring memorized amounts of cream and sugar into the fresh brew, he returned to the table, setting two of the beverages beside the plates.

Ness hovered, his own cup of smoldering caffeine in hand, and glanced around the restaurant. Aside from Mason and those two writers in the corner (who, as Ness had learned, took generous amounts of time with the shakes they always ordered), Sparky’s was empty tonight.

With that in mind, Ness dragged a chair away from one of the other tables, positioning it at the end of the booth. Yeah, he could’ve just sat on the opposite side of Mason, but that part of the booth was typically reserved for another one of his friends.

Subtle relief washed over Ness’ knees as he took a seat; he’d been standing and walking pretty much all day.

Mason plucked a strip of bacon from one of the plates, checking to make sure that it was nice and warm without threatening to burn the palette. He then lightly tossed it over to Checkers, who snapped it out of the air almost like a frog catching flies. She lowered her head as the treat crunched between her teeth.

“How’ve things been?” Ness inquired, taking a sip of his coffee. “The theater’s gotten busy, yeah?”

Mason nodded as he took a fork and knife into his hands, cutting a piece off of one of the waffles and dipping it into the complimentary cup of syrup. “Yeah, it really has. Feels like whenever one movie runs its course and is taken off our roster, two more pop up in its place. Especially now that Scream 3 is finally on the market."

“. . .Oh, that’s right! It is!” Ness ever-so-slightly jumped in his seat. After enjoying the first two movies, he’d been meaning to give the latest installment a look. But so far, whether it was Sparky’s being slammed on the more favorable days or Royal Edgar’s Cinema being too crowded for his liking, things had just kept getting in the way.

Acting on instinct, Ness fished a pencil from one of his waist-apron’s pockets. At first, said pencil might not have seemed like anything special. But then you saw Fabio: a priceless treasure shaped like a rubber chicken’s head covering up the eraser. Ness started spinning the pencil between his fingers, causing Fabio to wiggle as though it was alive.

“Have you seen it already? Is it good? I have so many ideas about where the story could pick up from—”

“Hey, hey. Slow down," Mason remarked with some clear exasperation. “I haven't, but I am scheduled to project its last showing sometime next week. . .” He took a bite out of one of the chicken tenders, humming thoughtfully as he chewed. He must’ve seen the glint in Ness’ eyes, because he offered a sly smirk and lowered his voice as he continued.

“Tell you what: I’ll find a way to sneak you into the projection booth. That way, we can check it out together when the day comes.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Ness asked, jokingly clutching his mug in both hands and bringing it close to his heart.

“Sure. It’s really not too different from the customers smuggling their own snacks past the ticket desk,” Mason shrugged, though his mischievous demeanor briefly turned deadpan. “So long as you don’t play detective the entire time. My boss would rip me a new one if I just paused the movie every five minutes to let you brainstorm and talk.”

Ness scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It wouldn’t be every five minutes.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “You’re right; it’d probably be every two minutes.” He forked up another bite of the waffles, firmly ignoring the offended waiter noises.

“Oh, and don’t try to guilt-trip me out of my food, either. I’ve already got one moocher to deal with.” Mason scratched Checkers’ ears, to which she responded via tilting her head to the side, an undeniable trace of smugness in the warmth of her amber eyes.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ness pronounced, his voice dripping with much more sarcasm than usual, “but fine. I can work with that.”

“Uh-huh. You’d better,” Mason snorted, reaching over to shake hands with his friend as though the two of them were lawyers who’d just settled on some sleazy business arrangement.

Mason was a complex person. Everyone had issues, and he was no exception to that. Not like he was at all open about said issues, but once you got to know him, you’d start to see them. (Plus, that just seemed a lot nicer than describing him as a swarm of issues shaped like a man.) He was the type to constantly shift in his seat, to give most people the side-eye, to get lost in his thoughts and grimace at nothing until he snapped himself out of it.

At least he seemed content working at the theater. Even with the spark of horror that never seemed to leave his eyes, Mason was clearly a creative bastard. Sometimes he’d bring notebooks in and take breaks from his meal to fill their pages with paragraphs or sketches. He really did seem to have the potential for acting, maybe even directing. If his critiques and commentary on the movies he had to watch from the projection booth were anything to go by, then the projects he could possibly work on would be nothing short of awesome.

He’d actually been one of Freddy’s past security guards. Ironically enough, he and Ness hadn’t met there. Not that Ness minded, since A. if that’d been the case, there probably would’ve been way more confused screaming than there usually was at Sparky’s, and B. considering the fact that Mason’s employment had apparently lasted a whopping one singular night. . .

Ness still didn’t know the full story, and he could tell pressing Mason for info wouldn’t end well. But with the few snippets Jack had carefully enlightened him with. . .well—

Speak of the devil.

The front door’s bell only had about half a second to chime yet again, almost drowned out by rapid footsteps.

“You’re late,” Ness jokingly chastised as he caught dark brown skin and black hair in his peripheral vision. He shifted in his chair, moving his legs to make some room under the table as another one of his regular-friends hurried over to claim Booth Five’s empty seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Sue me,” Jack retorted, instantly propping his elbows on the table to knead at his forehead. It took a few long seconds for him to notice how one of his favorite dishes had apparently been waiting for him. He squinted at the food, then at Ness. “. . .I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to make it tonight?”

“And yet, here you are,” Ness replied, the definition of coy with how his shoulders popped up and down again.

Jack might’ve wanted to ask more questions, but Mason cut him off. “Look, I don’t get it either. He doesn’t know, but he just knows.”

Jack considered this, then tilted his head to convey the type of acceptance that only came when you couldn’t really question things that probably should be questioned because you already had too many things to focus on.

“Thanks, dude,” he murmured, nodding to Ness as he plucked one of the mozzarella sticks from his plate.

Ness nodded back, taking a few more gulps of coffee. “No problem.”

Jack paused mid-bite, eyes darting over to the brew that’d been poured for him. He scrutinized it, then raised the mug up and started chugging like a champ.

The display made Ness glad that he’d taken the time to experiment with coffee so long ago. There was no doubting how he could now calculate exactly how much time it took for coffee to go cold. Yeah, this particular serving had been fresh out of the pot a few minutes ago, but by now it had to be at optimal temperature. Neither scalding nor tepid: just nice and warm.

After about a moment, Jack pulled the now empty mug away from his face, taking a deep breath as he set it back down on the table.

“Rough day?” Ness inquired, specific parts of his brain starting to tick.

Something seemed off.

It wasn’t like he had any room to talk about slight bean juice addictions. And he certainly couldn’t blame Jack for a dependency (especially since he’d even shown some undeniable intrigue at Ness’ argument that coffee was a type of soup). Sure, Jack wasn’t narcoleptic, but when a day-and-night operating cabbie didn’t have access to some perks, things just wouldn’t go well for him or his passengers.

But whenever Jack popped in for a bite and a chat, it was easy to assume that he’d be heading home and going to bed right after his meal. Right now, however, his demeanor was anything but tired. His shoulders were rigid. His eyes were more or less threatening to pop right out of their sockets. In fact, he almost seemed to be weighing the options of never sleeping again.

Jack chewed his lip as he glanced in the waiter’s direction. He slowly nodded. “. . .You could say that.”

Ness exchanged glances with Mason, who had obviously seen the signs for himself. As did Checkers, since she quietly maneuvered around Ness’ chair to rest her head on Jack’s lap, peering up at him with an almost human-like air of understanding. Jack didn’t hesitate to pet the shiny fur along the dog’s neck, to which her tail started wagging but she otherwise remained still.

“What happened?” Mason asked, sitting up a little straighter. “If the vibes you’re giving off got her attention, then it must be something serious.”

Jack grimaced, closing his eyes with what seemed to be more force than necessary, taking a few long seconds to rub at their lids.

“Did you see any rabbit-shaped things out by the dumpster? I think they only come around once a month or so, but I always feel strange if I look at them.” The words glided out of Ness’ mouth and into the air before he could think.

Self-induced humiliation wrapped its awful, clammy hands around his ribcage as two confused glances were aimed in his direction.

“. . .What?” Jack and Mason blurted in near-perfect unison.

“What?” Ness echoed, blinking as his voice instantaneously grew a smidge louder than before. He rushed to plaster his typical, happy-go-lucky demeanor back onto his face, hoping that pretending he hadn’t spoken at all would convince his friends that he actually hadn’t.

Not only did his latest sentence sound weird as all hell, but it’d also been downplayed as all hell. Because when Ness had said strange, what he’d really meant was the pounding, churning, pummeling agony that should only ever be present in your stomach after you’ve accidentally swallowed a few dozen live rats that just so happen to be whacked out on cocaine for whatever godforsaken reason.

And while he wasn’t a perfect angel, Ness would never wish that particular pain on anyone else. So, the fewer people who knew about the floppy-eared cryptids (which Ness could’ve sworn looked like they’d been covered in mucus) that were apparently engrossed in gang warfare with the local raccoons, the better.

“Ah, did you get a bad passenger today?” Ness coughed. Jack had to deal with as many entitled idiots as Ness, if not even more. Hell, taking turns venting about that stuff was something they’d initially bonded over.

He peered through the window next to the booth—Jack’s cab was parked close enough to see that there wasn’t anything to indicate an accident. Not a life-threateningly serious one, at least.

“Not exactly,” Jack replied, following his gaze. Where Ness’ eyes were curious, Jack’s were currently anxious and mistrusting. That was another red flag: Jack may not have treated his taxi like it was his baby, but he still took pretty good care of it. “Just a few more weirdos.”

Mason hummed, tilting his head. “How weird specifically?” He’d heard plenty of Jack’s tales from the road; as he called on Jack for rides somewhat often, he’d even ended up being part of those tales.

Jack knitted his brows, fidgeted in place. “You don't want to know."

“. . .Then why did you make it sound so damn vague?” Mason retorted, now dripping with incredulousness. “The less specific details are, then the more they’re gonna nag at someone’s brain.”

“He’s got a point,” Ness agreed, lightly tapping Fabio’s pencil against his mug.

“Like that’s my fault,” Jack snorted. “Most people wouldn’t believe me if I told them.”

Ness offered an encouraging smile. “Good thing we’re not most people, then.”

Mason nodded. “Damn right. C’mon, Jack; are you really saying something could top the crackhead I had to share the backseat with last month?”

“Yes, I am,” Jack whisper-shouted through gritted teeth, “because it was a bear!”

Silence (save for the soft click-clack of keyboards from the corner of the diner, that is).

Jack pursed his lips, looking equal parts exasperated and worried. He sighed yet again, reaching up to press his fingers against his temples.

“. . .What kind of bear was it?” Ness eventually tried.

Mason, who’d previously been squinting while his mouth opened and closed with no words coming out, turned his head to face Ness with such speed and force that he might’ve actually given himself whiplash. “That’s the first thing you focus on?!”

Ness made a shaky lame gesture. “It’s a fair question! What’re you focusing on?” (He wasn’t wrong. There was a lot of variety among bears, after all. And a bear that lived in the woods and had huge claws and could outeat, outrun, outswim, and probably even outdrink the average person would be a lot more to handle than one of the bears that had attended the latest local Pride parade.)

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you,” Mason declared, returning his attention to Jack, “look significantly less mauled than most people who get close to bears! Seriously, how is your face still connected to your skull?!”

“I didn’t mea—!” Jack was about to go on the defensive, but stopped short. “What, were you expecting me to get ripped to shreds tonight? So damn sorry if I didn’t get the memo!”

“No! Of course not!” Mason contended. “Look, you can’t just say you had a run-in with a bear and leave it at that!”

Jack threw his hands up. “Well, I told you you didn’t want to know!”

“How the hell can we not NEED to know now?” Ness pointed out. Though he was growing just as confused as Mason, he tried to keep his voice even.

Jack gave him an exhausted look before craning his neck to rest his head against the booth’s seat, staring at the ceiling.

“It was a huge robot,” he finally clarified. “Looked like it’d been at the bottom of a scrap heap for years; I’d guess it was older than my dad. But its eye glowed blue like the machines inside it were still working. It made the car shake—I’m honestly surprised the back tires never gave out. And God damn, the smell. . .rust and blood and mucus, I swear!”

Now it was Mason’s turn to go rigid. A tidal wave of emotion seemed to sweep through his features; first surprise, then recognition, and then dread. He placed a hand on the nearest corner of the table as if to steady himself.

“It was wearing a black top hat and bowtie, wasn’t it?” He murmured. It sounded much more like a statement than a question, and the way his tone had become so hollow didn’t help.

Jack lowered his head, clearly unsure whether or not to make eye-contact as he nodded.

“Sounds like the way Freddy was designed. . .” Ness mused without quite meaning to.

Memories of the huge sign that had been built to loom over the old pizzeria’s front entrance flooded into his head. The blinking lights that bordered the establishment’s title and seemed to chase each other around and around and around. The life-sized cutout of the one and only Freddy Fazbear himself, using one paw to adjust his bowtie and the other to wave, seemingly beckoning customers to wander inside.

Those memories dissolved as Ness winced and glanced back at Mason, who was now reaching up with a shaking hand to grasp at his hoodie’s collar, tugging it to cover up the top of an old, deep scar that dragged along the skin of his neck. Ness shuffled in his seat, trying not to stare at how quickly the color drained from his friend’s face.

Checkers was back by Mason’s side in an instant, bracing her paws against the seat as she licked at his face. Mason blinked, a huge shudder rippling through his chest as he hugged his pet.

A few minutes dragged by, feeling like an hour apiece and jeering at the trio as they went.

“So.” Mason finally announced, still keeping his gentle-yet-obviously-desperate hold on Checkers. “Let me get this straight: that. . .that thing got into your cab like it paid rent just a few hours ago?”

Jack pursed his lips, nodding again. “There was a kid with it, too. A little girl. She didn’t even seem scared at all. The whole ride, she was smiling and hugging the bear’s arm—”

“Wait, you actually drove it somewhere?!” Mason demanded.

Jack sputtered. “What other choice did I have?!”

“I mean, that’s kind of literally his job,” Ness mentioned.

True, he was grappling with the fact that he and his friends had apparently been transported into some cheap bizzarofiction novel. And yet, somehow, this wasn’t even the craziest story that’d been relayed to him from a customer. He peered down at Fabio as though it was about to start contributing to this conversation. “Where did you take them?”

Jack raised an eyebrow at Ness (which he guessed couldn’t be helped. Ness already had an idea, but it was rude to just assume, wasn’t it?). “Where else? That old pizza joint you’ve been trying to write an encyclopedia on.”

Mason was about to say something else, but stopped short in favor of turning his shock toward Ness.

Ness raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, I know you don’t like that place, but just remember that I don’t question what you do with your free-time.”

“That’s right. And even if you did, you wouldn’t have to, because I don’t spend my free-time poking around the fourth Circle of Hell!” Mason snarked.

“I won’t lie and say it’s not creepy,” Ness admitted, unable to stop a chill from racing down his spine at the memory of the restaurant’s grimy wall posters, the draft that always seemed to be in the air over there, the disturbingly sour tang of what he’d hoped was just ancient pizza sauce, “but that still seems pretty harsh.”

Mason gawked, fragments of words leaking through his teeth.

“If we’re looking at the bigger picture,” Jack coughed, probably attempting to steer Mason away from a potential stroke, “then nothing really happened tonight. The bear didn’t even make a peep the whole time. I didn’t get hurt, and that girl didn’t get hurt. She even left a handful of change when we got to the restaurant.”

Ness squinted and tilted his head at that. As far as he knew, the rules Jack applied to his cab were pretty lax and basic, but he’d always been firm on never taking money from lone child passengers.

Then again, if the child passenger in question was traveling with a huge robotic animal that apparently had enough sentience to use a taxi in the first place, it was probably best to just go along with whatever happened and leave the sanity-questioning session for later.

Jack fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. “. . .That actually wasn’t even the worst part of tonight’s shift.”

Mason leaned back against the leather seat, looking very much lightheaded. His eyes bulged from their sockets as he furiously motioned for his friend to elaborate.

Jack hesitated before explaining, “Well, once the girl and the bear were out, I decided to just call it a day. After I got far enough away from the pizzeria, I parked by one of the downtown curbs and switched the car’s sign to Off Duty. I was trying to get a catnap in—”

“It’s a miracle you could even try to sleep after that damn bear basically held you hostage,” Mason interjected.

“—when someone knocked on the window. I told ‘em to read the sign and come find me later, but they opened up the door and got in anyway. So, I was about to kick them out and. . .” Jack trailed off, shaking his shoulders as though a few dozen cockroaches had spontaneously taken up nest in his jacket.

“And. . .?” Ness echoed, the curiosity-concern cocktail in his mind getting stronger.

“And there was some tiny doll in my passenger seat,” Jack concluded. “Looked creepy as hell.”

Ness hummed in consideration. “Sounds like it could just be a weird prank? The teens in that area are always following strange trends.”

Jack nervously shook his head. “I couldn’t see anyone outside the cab. It only took a few seconds for me to look; there’s no way anyone could move fast enough to hide after they put the doll in.”

“A tiny doll. . ?” Mason’s brow furrowed in thought for a couple seconds, then promptly returned to its collision course for Mars. He leaned over the table. “Did it have bug-eyes and buck teeth? Was it wearing one of those stupid propeller hats and holding a red-and-yellow striped balloon?”

Jack’s face contorted in confusion as he nodded. “. . .That pretty much sums it up.”

Though his expression was still grim, Mason’s fear quickly metamorphosed into some good ol’ fashioned aggravation. “That’s the bastard,” he seethed, knuckles turning white.

Jack blinked, perplexity slowly overtaking his latest case of heebie-jeebies. “Wait, you’ve seen that thing before?”

“I have, unfortunately.” Mason grimaced. An odd type of adrenaline etched its way across his face. “Is it still in the cab?”

Jack nodded again. “I didn’t want to risk touching it.”The words were barely out of his mouth when Mason rose from the booth and stalked outside through Sparky’s front entrance. Checkers trotted after him, the tiredness of an actual nurse flickering in her eyes.

Ness and Jack basically had frontrow seats to observe their friend approaching Jack’s cab, ripping the passenger-side door open and fishing something out before slamming it closed again.

With that, Mason raced to the edge of the parking lot and proceeded to dropkick what had to be the mysterious balloon-toting doll out of sight.

Despite his shock, part of Ness still felt relieved that Mason hadn’t simply deposited it into the dumpster. Just in case those awful rabbit-looking things happened to be paying a visit tonight. . .

@sammys-magical-au @that-bat @th3w00ds @bee-the-matpat-simp @touyubesposts @crazy-obsessed-enby @i-used-to-wear-the-fedora @holyawesomestitches @s-e-v-e-n-24 @sotogalmo @ciphershadow @deethedustyassdumbass @theechoingmadness @its-a-goddamn-ass-race @zam-witch @box-goat @redd-byrd @icantmakeupagoodname @pleasedontmind-the-emerald @transparentghosty @vegaslvrr @itzqueers-blog @wannabeavocaloidmystery @shivr0ygf @ciara-clycone @not-made-of-actual-rye @m0on-shro0m @imafruitbowl @azure-trash @il0v3mus1cals @v1r-x @kafkaisnotdead @junaslagoon @alicethemenace @ilovenikkisixx @m00nlight-mexican @w0rd3855 @head-without-a-fucking-brain. @unkn0wn-nys @not-made-of-actual-rye @101k-t101 @theonlykala @dividel @riff-is-on-a-fucking-crisis @roselily2006 @max-afton @abe-the-detective-blog @floating-above-sea-level @madhare051

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autumnmobile12 · 16 days

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"If you're too short to stare down your nose at someone, keep your chin down, your eyes up, and don't blink. It's not as threatening, but it will show you are not afraid." -Mai (probably)

...

In exploring various avenues to go about a Ghost Hunt/My Hero crossover, one of the more entertaining dynamics I think would be the interactions between Mai and Endeavor.

To put it bluntly, there is a strength behind Mai’s character that I don’t think we in the Ghost Hunt fandom give her near enough credit for, and that is the fact that on a fundamental level, Mai is fearless.

As per general anime protagonist behavior, she is almost exactly like Deku when it comes to doing what she perceives to be the right thing. Reckless, yes, and she is often running headlong into danger, but it’s important to remember Mai has also never been afraid to call anyone out on their bad behavior.

Within minutes of meeting Ayako, she called her out for talking down to her classmate, a classmate she was not even particularly close to.

She often calls out Masako and Naru both for their condescension and attitudes.

Takigawa was physically holding her back from going after the faculty at Rokuryou.

She called out Lin pretty quickly for his bullshit.

And she straight up yells at everyone in the very first case for their bickering and posturing even though she barely knew any of them.

In canon, Mai jumps at ghosts and she is easily unsettled/frightened, but even against Urado, she still has the inherent resolve to think, ‘Okay, you need to go.’

Also recall the fact that she has not hesitated to out Naru twice on minor secrets solely because he pissed her off. That whole bit in the Labyrinth case where she demands to know why he didn’t tell them the full reason why they were there and he just answers with how ‘some people don’t know when to keep their mouth shut.’ Yeah, he didn’t say that because he didn’t think she could keep the secret. Homeboy straight up knew she would weaponize that information if given the chance.

For all her compassion and the ‘good girl’ vibes we remember her for, Mai is petty af.

...

This is why I like writing Mai as an adult. Canonically as a teenager, she’s already formidable in her own way. As a young adult who’s dealt with Naru and company for a few years and has subsequently gotten used to the constant razzing and sass the whole group brings to the table (and let's be real, nobody in My Hero Academia would be prepared for the full force of SPR's combined sass,) adult Mai would be a force of nature.

So as intimidating as Endeavor is, I legitimately think Mai’s reaction to him would be a resolute, “I don’t care if he’s three times my size and on fire, nobody speaks that way in my presence and gets away with it. Hold my purse, hold my beer, time for a verbal ass-whooping.”

And then there’s Yasuhara saying, “Go off, sis,” and filming for posterity.

Speaking of SPR's favorite bespectacled fiend, Yasuhara has definitely hit on everyone in the top ten.

Yasuhara and Mai both have probably ended up in this situation, possibly at the same time and the end result is always the same:

Naru stepping in.

"What exactly is your plan here? Putting them down or harming them are your only two options right now, only one of which is the smart option. Unhand them. You're embarrassing everyone."

...

SPR really be the Animaniacs sibs to every Pro with an ego. Which is, like, 90% of Pros. And villains.

...

But yeah, general cattiness between Mai and Endeavor:

"I didn't see you there, Taniyama. Perhaps your lackluster and unremarkable costume was to blame."

"Not all of us are trying to signal that Gondor calls for aid."

#my hero academia #ghost hunt #mai taniyama #endeavor #crossover #character analysis #yasuhara osamu #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #nostalgia anime #pro heroes #vs #shibuya psychic research #spr #naru #oliver davis #young adults

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

Shadowhunters

Dona Nobis Pacem by lawsofchaos (+ podfic)

Part 2 of Consular High Warlock Magnus Bane

"When Alec kneels before you on that dais, Magnus,” Jace keeps going, “he’s telling every person present that it is your judgement, your respect, that he places before all others. In you placing that rune on his neck, Alec is publicly proclaiming that it’s your blessing and your judgement on him and on his reign as Head that gives him the right and the authority to uphold the Covenant.”

Magnus' throat is too tight to speak, but there’s a distinct shimmer visible in his suddenly unglamoured eyes.

Oh My God Dad, You Can't Just Ask People Why They're Blue by Ellegy42

"Nothing weird ever happens when Rafe sneezes,” Max complains into Papa’s stomach when he finally gets home.

The Sandman

Right Place, Right Time by sherwoodfox

Over the centuries, Hob had dreamt plenty of dreams about his friend from the tavern. All good dreams, of course.

Very good dreams.

Usually not dreams that featured either of them wearing very much clothing.

But until the talking bird told him otherwise, he hadn't considered that those dreams might be real.

(Featuring: a live Jessamy, Hob rescuing Dream from the fishbowl, a mess to clean and a happy ending.)

The Witcher

Every Word by GoldenDaydreams

Jaskier kept his secrets close. The fewer who knew, the fewer could hurt him with the curse—it was a secret he intended on taking to the grave.

The grave might just come early.

Hannibal

They Came to Florence or: Plagiarize This Fic by shiphitsthefan

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue

DC (Batfamily)

still feel your teeth around my organs by gladioar (deargalileo)

drake isn't getting out of bed. damian doesn't know what to do. thankfully alfred and dick do.

Untamed

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey

Letting himself get cursed may not have been the smartest thing Wei Wuxian has ever done, but he'd argue that it’s completely in character. So he should earn some points for consistency, at the very least. Besides, when the spirit had been explaining it, the curse hadn't sounded too bad. Maybe a little bothersome if he underestimated how many people felt strongly about him, but surely, surely, it wouldn't be enough to hamper him in the long run.

Let it be known that Wei Wuxian is an idiot.

Because, when he emerges from the dilapidated husk of the temple, he can't see anyone

Or: Wei Wuxian gets cursed so he can’t see or feel anyone who feels strongly about him and assume this means that the people he cares about actually hate him.

#i've been so busy i haven't been able to read much fic #hence the lateness of this #but i have a BUNCH of fandoms this time #and a new one!#i haven't finished shadowhunters quite yet but i'm already reading fic for it kjdkj #weekly fic round up #my posts #my fics #dc recs #untamed recs #hannibal recs #witcher recs #sandman recs #shadowhunters recs

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mischief-lies-and-stories · 7 months

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Loki Episode 1 Reactions (Less Coherent Edition)

It's been two and a half years, y'all, and what a start to the new season it was. (I've seen mixed reviews in the tag, but personally the initial reaction is I loved it.) What I apparently forgot in those two years, however, is that my in-the-moment reactions notes are not very coherent. So I apologize in advance if you aren't sure what part the note refers to. I'm going to make another post tomorrow with some more coherent thoughts around the episode and some predictions about the season in general (I'm also going to be rewatching the episode later so that might lend more clarity to the next post as well). I also cut out a chunk of my reactions that were just me screaming a character's name when they showed up, unless it makes sense for the next note to leave it in (and there were a lot of these, since it's been two and a half years since I've seen my friends).

Obligatory spoiler warning if you weren't already expecting them. Prepare for some wildness. I've bracketed [ ] some brief clarifying post-ep notes (not everywhere though).

I'm obnoxious, I'm watching the entire recap.

The editing of this recap is interesting.

The bleak theme is worrying. I don't like it. But I do love the color scheme of the logo.

SYLVIE???!!!

CASEY!!!

Okay hopefully that wasn't Sylvie.

Someone give this boi [Loki] a nap. He's had a very very very long day and it's only getting longer.

What the fuck is happening.

X-5 you've got the haircut of a cop, I've decided I don't like you.

Man, I hope we fix this time-slipping in this episode, it's stressing me out too fucking much.

Oh motherfuck. This is driving me insane. This is Sisyphean torture. [I don't remember what specifically I was referring to, so I don't remember if this is an accurate description.]

OH MY GOD I LOVE LIZ CARR I HOPE SHE STICKS AROUND [Man, Liz Carr is just hopping from franchise to franchise this summer. She's in Loki, Good Omens, The Witcher)

OH SHIT. Renslayer and Kang. If they kiss on tape I'm marking it on the Bingo.

I DESPERATELY want to know what B-15's backstory is. She's a fantastic character and I want to know how she used this personality on the timeline.

Keep that Hitler youth-looking fuck away from my girl!

Oh my god, I'm going to be watching this conversation in the hall between Loki and Mobius over and over, because I love every part of it. The panicking, the teasing, the touching, the making each other feel better. Just the entire debriefing, reuniting conversation is EVERYTHING to me right now.

"In order to do that I need a Loki Who Remains." I love this

"I have no memory of having my memory wiped." Mobius. This is Catherine Tate on Nevermind the Buzzcocks telling David Tennant "I don't know songs I've never heard of" solidarity [I understand I'm making obscure 13+ year old references but this quote lives in my head rent free]

Ugh I HATE time travel. But it makes sense why his name is OB now. Also his door is a circle.

OB IF YOU KILL LOKI I WILL END YOUR CUTE BESPECTACLED FACE FASTER THAN YOU CAN SAY "No...wait."

OB IF YOU KILL MOBIUS I WILL PERSONALLY FLAY THE SKIN FROM YOUR OWN BONES

Mobius writing "skin" into the dust on the computer lololololol

WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING JUST LET LOKI CONFESS

OB I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS IF ONE OF THESE BOYS EVEN SEEMS TO DIE AT THE END OF THIS EP

HOW IS HE GONNA HOOF IT BACK IF HE CAN BARELY CRAWL [I started getting really stressed at this point. It's pretty much caps lock from here on out.]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WE'RE GONNA END THIS EPISODE WITH MO BITING IT AND THEN LOKI FIXES IT IN EP TWO AND BRINGS HIM BACK

OR LOKI BITES IT AND THE OTHER WAY HAPPENS

THERE'S ELEVEN MINUTES LEFT BUT I DON'T TRUST MARVEL NOT TO MAKE ELEVEN MINUTES OF CREDITS

MARVEL DON'T MAKE ME CHECK OFF THE CRYING BOX [on the Bingo Card] ON EPISODE ONE

MARVEL

I WON'T BE ABLE TO SLEEP

MARVEL

LOKI

MOBIUS

LOKI

MOBIUS

SYLVIE MY DARLING MY PERFECT LOVE THANK YOU OH MY GOD

How wild is it that Loki comes flying back from the jaws of death itself and saves Mobius from getting his skin ripped off and they land on the floor of the TVA in each other's arms, and the first thing Loki does is bring up his ex-girlfriend [I wouldn't classify Sylvie as this, but I'm being tongue-in-cheek, and Mobius did accuse Loki of falling for himself in season 1, so]

OKAY BUT I WAS RIGHT THAT WAS SYLVIE AT THE BEGINNING [Before you reply, remember I can't respond to those, and also I forgot that was the past and at the end Loki's in the future. HOWEVER, I do still think that was Sylvie at the beginning.]

SHE IS IN BROXTON HELL YEAH WHOEVER FIGURED THAT OUT (I don't remember who that was) FOUR FOR YOU HOLY SHIT

Oh Sylvie :(((

#i'm sorry for how long and incoherent this is but i'm stubborn and i'm posting it anyway #loki #loki tv show #loki season 2 #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #loki season 2 spoilers #loki tv show reactions

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little-peril-stories · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023, Day 24: "I thought they were with you."

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: angst, unknown fate of another character

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 880 || Approx reading time: 4 mins

"Watch out!"

Teaser: The plan, meticulously thought out: he would go to her, read the letter, give to her every carefully composed word.

“How will they tell my story? / How will they tell my tale?”

Chasing sleep proved to be a futile effort, and so the scholar passed the night at his desk, staining his skin as he had so many times before with ink—splatters and whorls of black sinking into his fingerprints and burrowing beneath his nails.

He didn’t mind the ink stains. He barely noticed them. It was no different, he told himself, from writing a thesis or preparing for an examination.

Except, of course, that it was different in every possible way, save for the scratch of his pen against the page.

As he rose from his chair when sunlight crept across the sky, he knew he’d neglected to sleep at all, and yet he didn’t feel tired. He did feel strange, though—dizzy, far away, distant from the walls and floors of the palace as he passed unsteadily through the halls like a half-drunk hooligan.

He clung to the letter he’d sunk deep into his pocket, wondering if the dampness on his palms would smudge the ink and imprint the words themselves right onto his skin.

The plan, meticulously thought out: he would go to her, read the letter, give to her every carefully composed word. He wouldn’t stumble or lose his place when he looked up and their eyes met. Well, he might. But he’d get through it. Brimming with courage, he would read it and tell her and then the truth would be between them, free for her to take or not as she wished.

He could do it. He wasn’t such a coward.

The rap of his knuckles against the door was the loudest thing he’d ever heard, rattling his bones and aching through his flesh. When it was answered, he asked to see her, stammering on the lyrical syllables of her name.

He recognized the girl who opened the door—one of her colleagues, a friend, a girl with cool, appraising eyes. They usually regarded him with little more than curiosity and vaguely confused acknowledgement that her friend might choose to while away her hours of freedom with a lanky, bespectacled former royal tutor who staggered through most social situations with the grace of a baby elephant.

Now, those cool eyes were puzzled, but it was a harsh, snappish confusion. “She’s not here.”

He glanced around, doubting his navigation abilities for an instant before his surroundings confirmed that he was in the correct place. “She’s gone out already?”

“I thought she was with you,” the girl said, her gaze hardening.

“What?” He frowned, prickles rising along his skin even though the morning sun was beating through the glass windowpane with vicious strength. “Why would she be with me?”

“She didn’t come back last night,” she said. “And since you were the one who spirited her away into the gardens for a…walk…” The scholar noticed then how stiff the girl held herself, how tightly she bit out every word. “We figured she was with you.”

Suspicion, he realized. Suspicion was what lurked within that glare.

“I didn’t spirit anyone anywhere,” he said. “I went back in and she was still…”

It struck him fully then—what he was saying and what her friend was saying, burrowing in like something sharp-toothed and ravenous, eating away at his skin.

“Wait,” he said, his thoughts spinning backwards, “she didn’t come back at all?”

The girl shook her head, swallowing as if it pained her.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “Why don’t you know? You were the last one to see her.”

Last one…

“No,” he said, “I went back in—she wanted to stay outside—”

“So you left her alone?”

The sheer negligence of that choice, the stabbing realization of how abysmally he had erred in his judgment—they both clanged toward him, harsh and accusing and true.

“The gardens,” he said, “did anyone look—do you suppose she—I don’t—“ He backed away from the door. “I’ll look for her.”

“I’m coming with you,” her friend said, disappearing for a moment while she shouted back, “Don’t go anywhere!” When she reappeared, she was yanking a pair of shoes onto her feet.

But they had to hurry, he thought. “What if she…” If she was hurt? If a strange illness had befallen her after he walked away? “I just don’t understand.”

“Is there something you’re not saying?” her friend asked. “Was she sick last night? Upset? At y… About something?”

“No,” he said, trying to keep his voice from clipping too sharply. “She was watching the fireworks.”

“I can’t believe you just left her alone there,” the girl said. “What’s wrong with you?”

She’d insisted. She’d been fine. She’d been content.

“Are you telling the truth?”

He stumbled to a stop, just for an instant, as the earth shivered and shifted beneath him. “Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know,” her friend said. “I’m just asking.”

He banished her question from his mind. Perhaps there was more she wasn’t saying. It didn’t matter, not at the moment.

All that mattered: making it to the gardens—to the last place he saw the girl for whom he’d written the love letter in his pocket—and what they would find when they got there.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#whumptober2023 #no.24 #goodbye note #neglect #“I thought they were with you.”#oc #original content #fic #angst #unknown fate of another character

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skylermadness · 6 months

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Illegal Hiring Practices (Anthro Bullet Bill TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: August 5, 2023)

Original Description:

My half of a trade with guacandchips on DeviantArt/FurAffinity. Their half can be found here: DeviantArt / FurAffinity This story is directly based on artwork drawn by ArticulatedArtisan! The original art can be found here: DeviantArt / FurAffinity Another trade complete! This one was honestly really fun to work on. So fun that I ended up accidentally writing what accumulated 16 pages and 7.3k words on the document. Either way, I'm really proud of how this one turned out! Especially since this is probably the first time I've written TF of a character that is moreso a generic mook than anything else. But I think that's where the appeal really came in, especially with the MC. Plus a very unique anthropomorphization in terms of design as well, really made me put more thought into the head changes! This story just contained so many unique systems to work with... Definitely one of my more favorite solo stories of the year! Overall, a very enjoyable story to write and a very fun trade to be had! I honestly wouldn't mind doing something else like this again~ Rated Mature for described bulge/nullge.

Bowser's Castle was always considered to be one of the land's most heavily guarded fortresses. With its strong usage of lava pits and an assortment of traps, alongside the various guards constantly roaming the premises, the castle grounds were a place that would usually be considered of high difficulty to penetrate. Right now, however, the halls of the castle were uncharacteristically empty. Very few of Bowser's minions could be found patrolling the grounds, and it would seem there was quite a staggeringly low number of them that made up the current army serving the fierce Koopa king. And now up in a hallway that was within the higher levels of the castle, a discussion was being had about this strange occurrence by two of the highest ranking individuals in the kingdom. The sounds of a mixture of light and heavy steps bounce off the gray bricks in an echo as the talk unfolds.

"It's uh, evident that forces in the kingdom have been dwindling drastically, my king…" one of the voices reports. Higher in pitch and nasally in tone; it was one that belonged to a short, blue-robed, and bespectacled koopa by the name of Kamek.

The deep and booming voice of the Koopa king, Bowser, responds not long after the report is given. "Is there any particular reason that we can't just get more?"

"Well there is a the finite supply of people in this kingdom, and it has grown fairly obvious that we just can't seem to hold much of their loyalty anymore-"

"And what do you mean by that?" Bowser spits out, a noticeable fury formulating in his tone of voice.

A bit of sweat forms on Kamek's brow as he instantly notices the change in tone. "W-well, they are getting tired of the constant amounts of injuries and hazardous encounters th-that ensue during your schemes, m-my King."

Bowser lets out a dismissive snort. "They get better, don't they?"

"Y-yes, by the repetition of it all-"

"Their complaints are on repetition?" Bowser stops walking to turn towards the magikoopa advisor, "They are the ones that signed up to be in this army, and they are the ones that swore loyalty to me-"

The feeling of betrayal was tangible in Bowser's voice. He was being given such weak reasons behind deciding to drop out what is easily one of the most powerful armies in this land! The only one that could defeat them is that blasted plumber, but it's only a matter of time before they slip up and Bowser can get the drop on them!

The Koopa king clenches his fists, claws digging into the scales of his palms. "Pathetic," he turns away and continues walking. "All of them, pathetic! Their weakness is tarnishing the Koopa Kingdom's name and reputation at this point!"

One of the king's hefty fists slams into the wall of the hallway, Kamek letting out a yelp due to the sudden act of aggression. A couple seconds later he speaks up again in an attempt to calm his lord, "N-now, my king, I'm sure we can-"

"I don't need excuses, Kamek!" Bowser's arm slowly removes itself from the crack he punched into the wall. "Just imagine what the other kingdoms see in me now! A ruler who can't even keep his own men under his control. Ooh, and think about how pathetic I might look now in the eyes of Peach…"

Bowser's anger dripped into self-loathing, Kamek mentally making note of that and seizing this as an opportunity to spitball some ideas. "W-well, we are in an intermission between schemes. We have the time to replenish our forces!"

Bowser glared at the magikoopa. "Your reports seem to imply that idea is an impossibility. Loyalty is waning, and if I can't keep hold of that I can't maintain an entire army."

"I mean, you have me," Kamek says, seemingly in an attempt of reassurance.

"I don't need your pity-"

The feeling of reassurance drops instantaneously. "No, I mean you have me, one of the most powerful mages in this kingdom. We could easily use my magic to propagate and restore the kingdom's army to its former glory!"

Bowser stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly trying to rationalize the idea in his head. "That… that could work! Bring my army back- oh, or even better, make them stronger. Loyaler…"

"E-exactly!" Kamek brings out his wand. "It'd be rather easy- I could probably turn any of the dissenters back onto our side!"

"Mmmm," a low rumble of concern escapes Bowser's throat. "I feel as if that isn't a permanent solution, though…"

"Wha…?"

"Well, I mean, wouldn't something inevitably happen if we try to use magic on people from this world? That plumber always has his way around finding some way to undo whatever spell might be cast. I worry he would just come in and ruin everything we rebuild, especially if he were to find out about it…"

A silence descends into the hallway, both koopas now lost in thought as they try to come up with a way to circumvent the brought up problem. But after a couple seconds Kamek's eyes widened, an idea popping into his head.

"Then we don't use this world! It'd be quite easy to use magic to travel to so many others…" A devious smile begins creeping onto his snout. "While my knowledge on other worlds is a bit lacking, there's one that intrigues me…" he stops talking to chuckle a bit at the thought entering his mind.

Bowser raises a brow, curious. "What are you planning?"

Kamek fully smiles. "Earth. There'd be quite an abundance of people there that I can easily influence with my magic. Humans have always been quite susceptible to magical influences after all. Physical… mental…"

Bowser's own eyes begin to widen in realization, followed by a sinister, toothy grin forming on his muzzle. "Yes, that sounds like the perfect plan!"

The king fully turns towards Kamek and points forward. "I hereby order you to head to Earth and enact this plan of yours! And don't think about coming back until we have a new army that rivals the strength of the older one!"

"Of course, my king…" Kamek bows before Bowser before fully unveiling his wand, a reddish-purple glow beginning to emanate from the gem encrusted atop it…

----------------------------------------------------------

Oranges and reds had set the sky ablaze as the sun's descent can be seen through the glass of the massive window that made up one of the office space's walls.

A stark silence is noticeable within this space. Despite the room's size, it's evident that there didn't initially appear to be any signs of life within it. Considering just how late the day was it could easily be presumed that anyone working here would have gone home for the day. However, the fragility of the silence gets easily broken…

"Crap, just how late is it?" a voice asks in a low mutter.

Within one of the cubicles of this office space was a singular person. This person was Bill, a young adult man with swept back, brown hair; wearing a simple light blue polo shirt and jeans; and focusing intensely on the Excel sheet open on his computer. Although it also would seem he was winding down whatever work was being done, the man typing slower as whatever documenting that was being done was coming to a close.

Bill had found himself working overtime for the night as he was given the brunt of documenting a good chunk of paperwork that was required to be completed soon for the insurance firm he worked at. Not necessarily a favorite job of his, but it would seem he was the only person in the immediate offices that had any expertise in Excel. If he were being honest though, such an assignment was more than tiresome for him.

A yawn escapes Bill's mouth as his hand reaches over to the computer's mouse in order to save the document. By the time his eyes refocus he couldn't help but glance at the computer's clock. 8PM…

He gets up from his chair and stretches, eyes catching a glimpse of the sunset outside. By now he also comes to the realization that he's legitimately the only person left in the office. "Great, everyone else must've gone home already."

He yawns again before putting on the darker cyan jacket that hung from the back of his chair. He gazes at some more physical paperwork that adorned his desk, mind contemplating if he should take that home or just leave it here for tomorrow. Unfortunately, his overachiever tendencies seem to win out here as he reaches towards the papers with both hands and levels them on the table before slipping them into his satchel that he kept beside his work computer.

"Going to work myself to death at this point, aren't I…?" he said with a slight smile. He jokes, but if anything he was just going to pass out once he got home.

With everything packed the young man extends a finger towards the computer's power button, fully ready to shut it off and leave for home. He doesn't seem to get the chance, however, as the computer (alongside seemingly everything else in the office) is turned off simultaneously in some kind of power outage. Bill's head proceeds to shoot up to look over the dividers of his cubicle, the man finding the room almost completely dark with the exception of what outside illumination penetrated the windows.

"What the…?"

His ears then catch onto the sound of electricity crackling at the far end of the room. His head slowly turns to the supposed source, and he begins moving his body out of his cubicle and towards where he's hearing the sound. It seemed like it was coming from the hallway that led to this office space. Bill steps out slowly from the lanes of the cubicles and towards the hallway entrance. The sounds of electric crackles only intensified the more he grew closer, a lingering feeling of eeriness now entered the man. Was there some kind of weird electrical problem going on? Is he going to have to call the builder's repair technician or something? …does the building have a repair technician? Eventually he reaches the threshold dividing the office space from the hallway, but he stops walking as his eyes widen in shock at what he finds in the hallway.

A small, sparking ball of purple and red light floats a few feet away from the threshold. Crackles and pops eerily emanate from it as it idles there, stationary.

"What the heck is-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The ball of light almost instantly starts rapidly expanding, and Bill is forced to shield his eyes as the mysterious object goes off like some sort of explosive flash bang. A massive BOOM! resonated throughout the area, force causing the man to tumble onto the ground while everything was momentarily engulfed in a purple luminescence. The blast of light then shrinks back into itself, imploding just as fast as it exploded.

Bill groans, starting to attempt to get up off the ground and blinking his eyes in a panicked haze as he tries to regain an understanding of his surroundings. The room was illuminated back to its previous state, an indicator that the power had been restored after that explosion. There wasn't any debris or anything though. He also could smell… smoke? Panic welling up again, he jumps back to his feet and turns around to find a massive cloud of smoke billowing from the threshold. Thankfully there was no fire, but there was a small and dim glow within the smoke, and accompanying that glow was a series of coughs followed by a voice.

"Agh, long distance travel is always so explosive-"

Bill steps back. "Wha- who's there??"

He doesn't get a response. All he gets is that dim glow stopping before slowly moving forward through the smoke, ominous and terrifying. The shadow of a figure then starts to make itself known, the shape looking to be extremely triangular. Bill continues moving back as the shadow steps closer, and closer, and closer…

The eeriness then comes to a screeching halt as the figure appears to trip over itself, flopping out of the fog face first to reveal a weird reptilian being in glasses and some kind of wizard's hat. The creature descends into a coughing fit shortly after, wheezing and gasping for air. "Too much smoke, too much smoke!!!"

Against better judgment Bill steps forward to get a better look at the creature. He's startled backwards again though as the creature snaps it's head from off the ground to seemingly glaring at his direction.

"I-I don't mean any harm!" Bill says, panicked. Of course he didn't, but did the creature share that intention?

The strange reptile tilts its head, then practically jumps back to its feet while dusting off its robe. This allowed Bill to realize just how small the being was in comparison to him.

"Bah, of course you don't mean any harm. All you humans are so soft and squishy…" the creature speaks in a nasally voice.

"'You humans'?" Bill repeated. "Are you some kind of alien or something??"

The reptile seemed to deadpan at that. "Alien… I'm Kamek, and you'll make sure to remember that."

The young man swallowed a forming lump in his throat. Perhaps exchanging pleasantries meant he could try and be friendly with this thing? "O-oh! I'm uh, Bill…?"

"Bill?" Kamek repeats almost judgmentally. "Cliché, but I can work with that…"

"Work with- just what are you doing here??"

Kamek's brows ascended a bit before descending, as if it were some kind of indicator of an eye roll behind his glasses. "I don't have the time for explanations," he then points his wand straight at Bill, "Now let's just get this over with, then I can be off to continue my job!"

Bill takes a second too long to comprehend what was going on while Kamek waves his wand, a reddish-purple light exuding from the spherical gemstone atop it. All the man could yell out was a panicked, "W-wait!" before a red beam of magic shot out from the wand and engulfed Bill's form.

A couple seconds passed before the magic dissipated around him and the beam slunk back into the object. Kamek now had a very noticeable look of satisfaction on his face, meanwhile Bill just felt… weird.

"A-agh, what was that…?"

He didn't get an answer though. All he did get was a budding feeling of something welling up inside him. Like his body was slowly beginning to get packed and overstuffed with something. In truth, that was just the magic starting to course its way throughout Bill's body…

The strange feeling he felt was one that overtook his entire body. The effects of the magic seemed to be one that surged through the entirety of his form all at the same time, an event that was signaled by strips of red light emanating off his form.

One of the first visible changes on his body was with the appearance of splotches of discoloration across his skin. Bits of darkness slowly began to form in his body and face, meanwhile there was a contrasting whiteness that was forming at the very tips of his fingers. The changes in tone would be followed by a more drastic type of physical shift after a few seconds passed, however.

The clean white continued to etch down Bill's fingers, the splotches continuing to travel their way downwards to reach his hands proper. At the same time there was also a series of changes in size that washed over his hands. With the change in coloration quickly overtaking all of his fingers, each one was prompted to thicken in size. Each passing moment caused the appendages to get chunkier, plumper in comparison to their previously thinner form. Alongside that was a weird change in biology, the mysterious white seemingly making the cells in his skin harden and shift into something that wasn't quite human. A certain smoothness slowly made its way across each appendage, fingernails getting glossed over and assimilated into the newly established texture as if these changes were attempting to wipe out any imperfections in his form.

His fingers weren't the only things changing though, as both of his hands were mirroring the transformation that was occurring. Palms stretched out in all directions as they were forced to grow in length and width. A sizable meatiness was in the process of packing onto them as well, muscles progressively thickening in size within that region to match the growing proportions of his fingers. All the while the increasing paleness of his skin only grew more prevalent, skin smoothing over more and more while the creases in his palms were washed away by the progressing wave of white.

Even more splotches of discoloration continued to form across his entire body, his arms easily getting dotted by the formulation of stark white while the muscles within them were in the process of getting stimulated to grow in size. A tightness was in the process of budding within the long sleeves of his jacket as a bulkiness was slowly being added into his arms. Within his forearms the muscles that composed of his flexors and extensors thickened, easily extending and expanding outwards with each passing moment. This was starting to cause a tremendous strength to surge within his newly developing muscles, power and heat cycling throughout them in some kind of magic-fueled current.

This would only continue to progress as this constant feeling of sheer power was built up within his form. While muscles formed in his lower arms, they had also been forming beyond his elbows and within his upper arms as well. His jacket sleeves continued to tighten, his biceps bulging outwards while his triceps grew in tandem alongside them. Creases already began forming within the deep cyan fabric as his newfound musculature developed more and more, growing out further to the point it began looking like he actively worked out. Seams tighten across his swelling limbs, small rips steadily forming across the boundary between sleeve and jacket due to his now increasingly developing deltoid muscles. The ends of his shoulders were in the process of steadily broadening in size, only growing out rounder and heavier with each passing second.

The rest of his shoulders had not been exempt from this intense transformation either as his overall form had concurrently been broadening as all these changes occurred. It wasn't long after the initial blast that Bill's polo shirt had started to strain against his form, the two buttons of the placket easily pinging off the shirt thanks to his thickening torso. This allowed the first few changes in his chest to be visible, a slight cleavage having formed in the middle of it while splotches of black and gray started to tint his skin.

Spots of gray were entering the young man's face too, a pressure steadily budding in the front of his skull as the tonal changes stretched across the lower area of his face. "Wh-what's going on?? Why does my… everything feel so tight!?"

Eyes darted around as he tried to make sense of the situation. A glance at his hands proved how large they have gotten, a smooth white shine having almost completely overtaken them. He slowly moved his focus up his arms, watching as his muscles grew out to fill his sleeves, them continuing to do so as the ridges that divided his continuously developing muscle mass etched themselves into the fabric of his jacket. The sight of such an occurrence caused so many thoughts to swim in Bill's head. What had Kamek done to him? Why?? And what was even going to become of him after this???

"Try not to worry too much," Kamek's voice resonates from in front of him in what he felt was an almost mocking tone. "You're going to be of quite some use to us!"

Bill could only blink in response to the words. "W-what does that even mean?"

All he gets is a smirk on the reptilian entity's face, the said entity just watching as their magic continues to do its work. Bill could feel a constant welling up of strength in his chest, his shirt continuing to be forced to stretch further over his torso while the muscles within it built up over time.

The cleavage he had developed in the middle of his chest continued to grow prominent while slowly indenting itself into his polo more. The tightness of his shirt had also been progressing steadily, getting even more prevalent with the swelling that was going on in his pectorals. Muscle mass steadily accumulated in the region as both pecs were in the process of growing out. A solid firmness had entered them both as they swelled forward, further pressing into his shirt as it all more easily outlined in the light blue fabric. Such a strong meatiness was just slipped into his pectorals with ease, although the two hard slabs of meat would soon start to get glossed over by the changes in his skin, smoothing out and gaining a practically metallic shine to them.

The same thing was happening to Bill's lower torso as well with another crease forming in his shirt. This time however it was because of his abdomen pressing forward. More development being put into it each passing second, hard abs bubbling and rippling forward in a gradual and almost sequential matter in how they rose from his once flat stomach. One set of two manifesting straight beneath his pecs, growing forward before another set formed and followed that example. Another couple seconds would pass before a third set repeated that event. All the while the muscles in his side slightly burned as his obliques were forced into a workout, his form somehow getting a little wider in the process. This had caused his polo to just strain more, the amount of pressure being put into it causing a few rips and tears to form in the fabric.

Another chorus of tearing pierces the air from behind him as the back of his shirt splits open, strong trapezius muscles bulging outwards and giving his upper back more definition. The neck of his shirt was also in the process of getting more strained as well, his own neck steadily thickening out into more of a trunk in its diameter. He could feel his throat tingle as the internal mechanisms reshaped themselves, his breathing growing deeper and heavier as time continued moving forward.

"S-so much… strength…" Bill speaks aloud, the last word ringing deeper than the others had. His muscles had only continued to bulge out and develop further, the sleeves of his jacket splitting open more to reveal the complete pale shine that had overtaken his beefy arms. There was a heat in his very core as his pectorals pushed forward and his abs developed even more, everything indenting into his polo and forcing a rip down the middle.

Bill still felt confused however. All of this was well beyond the young man's comprehension. Something wants him and wants to transform him into some jacked up creature! With all this muscle it felt like he was going to be put in some kind of body guard position. And what was this diminutive lizard going to do to him once he was fully transformed? Did they have more weird magic up their sleeves to make this even weirder? Did… did they transform anyone else before h-

He wasn't given the chance to finish that thought as a sudden piercing shot through his brain. "U-urgh-" he stumbled backwards, sides of his pants ripping open a bit due to the sudden movement. A strange cloud was entering Bill's mind now, thoughts and ideas phasing in and out of existence as they got obscured by the sudden haze. All he could muster out was a single question of, "What's happening now?!" before he shut his eyes and grunted in pain again. All the while, Kamek stands in front of him and silently observes his distress.

Even more changes had still been happening within his body, his lower half inevitably not being unaffected by the magic. The leather of his belt continued to strain across his waist as his hips pushed out even further and wider. The button of his jeans evidently had trouble holding together his broadening form, and in general it seemed that his pants just couldn't hold in the swath of changes ensuing across and around his legs.

Smooth darkness continued bleeding forward in the skin around his lower half, and the intense growth in muscle was a continuous effort throughout Bill's very form. So much of the upper portion of his jeans filled out, the seat of them getting closer to splitting as his rear was bloating up more and more. Gluteus muscles developed further while a certain level of sculpting was placed into his ass, all of which worked to round it up to thick and smooth perfection. The frontal region of the area wasn't spared either as the smoothing ensuing from his skin changes reached his groin. The button and zipper of his pants were easily forced to snap open as a thick roundness was formulated within that region, shining metal overtaking all of his parts and meshing and melding into a single rounded, completely nullified bulge.

Meanwhile in his legs the musculature of them had been mirroring the changes occurring throughout his entire form. The very shape of his legs pushed into the denim of his pants as their structure was enhanced; hamstrings and quad muscles within his thighs bulking up as the region got wider with each passing second. Tears and splits within the material grew more and more prevalent as the sides opened up to reveal his constantly hardening skin, and this only got more visible with the area around his knees practically opening thanks to his earlier movement to show just how much his skin had changed.

Meanwhile at the crus of his legs, his calves bulged out as the constant looping of strength was pushed into them. Bulky, powerful muscles constantly swelling up in size due to the steadily progressing nature of the spell that Bill was hit with. Legs getting so much stronger in order to support his hefty, heavy body. Pants continued to get torn asunder against the sheer magnitude of size that was impounding in his maturing muscularity. It was only a matter of time before his body would grow too large for all of his clothing.

This was a truth that had been getting easily proven by the man's footwear. As the splotches of pure black steel washed over his feet, and his body was all in the process of transforming, his feet too had been growing this entire time. Lengthening out longer, stretching out wider. Thickening in sheer size and girth. The sides of his feet pressed up against his shoes, and his heels dug into theirs. The material of his footwear had easily started ripping apart at this point, cracks and splits forming as the upper portion tried desperately to free itself from his soles. The bridge of his feet constantly pushed up against each loafer's tongue, furthering this building pressure more as his feet continued getting larger with his proportions.

Perhaps the most drastic change came with his toes though. As everything had been in the process of growing, his toes had also been pushing forward more to the point that the cap of his shoes bulged and rounded thanks to his bulking toes. But the more they got pressed into the cap, the more they seemed to squish into his feet, melding into the hardening skin as a perfect smoothness overtook it all. The rounded bulges in his cap continuously shrunk away as his toes pushed and merged into the balls of his feet. It wouldn't take very long before they had completely disappeared, leaving his feet as two massive metallic slabs. The front of them would still burst through the cap of his shoes however, as the rest of them obliterated his loafers in one large burst thanks to the footwear's inability to contain them.

It was by this point that his muscle growth had reached a substantial size. A certain apex had been reached with Bill's clothing, all of it seemingly coming to some kind of mutual conclusion that it would be unable to hold his absolutely hulking size.

A single tink entered the air as Bill's belt snapped apart and blasted off his waist. Then, in a single instant, almost all of the rest of his clothing came apart in one massive fusillade.

Dark blue fabric blew off from his beefy arms, shards of the sleeves of his jacket being shirked off the mostly white-colored limbs with ease. The remainder of his jacket had easily come undone as well, bits and pieces sloughing off Bill's back as his expansive form rendered the article of clothing into nothing but scraps. His polo shirt experienced the exact same fate with pieces of it becoming nothing but refuse against his large, beefy chest and back muscles. The shirt seemed to have one of the more explosive tearings as well with all of its remains being sent into the air and drifting downwards to the floor. His pants did undergo a similar experience though, the size of his legs causing them to bust apart in one fell swoop with bits and pieces of denim also floating in the air alongside the remnants of his polo. Any aspects of his former clothing that remained were tattered rings of his jacket and shirt that still clung to his shoulders, and a portion of his pants that remained wrapped around his hip region.

All of this gave way to fully revealing just how much of his body had changed. While his size was still growing, Bill had been absolutely filled with muscle to the point that his formerly skinny and twinkish form was subsumed by the build of a hulking bodybuilder. The constant changes in tone within his skin has caused his hands and arms to take on a predominately white shade by this point, meanwhile the rest of his body was still garnering the deep black coloration. Bits of his body shine in the office room's light as this development constantly grants him a more metallic form, increasing the visible strength of him by quite a lot. The surface area of his integumentary system would only end up getting more consumed by this, the wave of black and white metal continuing to overtake the remainder of his form.

A simple clunk resonates in the air as Bill places one of his large hands onto the side of his head. Pressure was still wracking his skull, and it felt like his face was just pushing out. Strands of dusty brown had also started to fall off his head as his hair began to disconnect from his scalp. But all he could really focus on was this pang of pain in his forehead. "Nngh, this headache. Hard to… think…" His jaw clenches, and after a few blinks a pair of hypnotic spirals enters the man's eyes.

There was a certain anger that began to practically boil within Bill's mind. So much so that the changes in his vocal cords allowed him to growl as he felt this feeling slowly intensify within him. Something about him knew how uncharacteristic this was, but there was just an overwhelming feeling of aggression burning it's way into his head. His usually calm personality was turning into nothing but steam as this rage welled up within him. He just wanted to fight! To just give something a good punch, get into a brawl and come out victorious!

"A-aahh, n-no, I…" he tries to resist. To go against these thoughts. And yet much like the strength he's been given physically, all of this was overwhelming him mentally as well. Something about not fighting was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth. A voice in his mind practically yells at him that he should live to fight! To take out all his aggression and retool it into something of use!

After all, isn't that his purpose? To just charge up aggression and expel it at full force. Doesn't that just sound so alluring…?

"Nn…nnnngh-" his jaw remained clenched as these weird thoughts assaulted his brain. The shifts in his face only progressed as well, pressure building up and the frontal portion pushing out more and more. At first it had just looked like he had been granted a simple snout, nose pushing into it while his nostrils became simple holes at the snouts out. His jawline hardened, chiseling out more as the muzzle-like appearance of his face grew more prominent. But it wasn't long until the strange muzzle prompted another swatch of changes across his head.

His very skull structure was changed, reshaping and shifting into something that could only be described as inhuman. The upper section of his head pushed downwards as his muzzle overtook more and more of the front of his face. Within his mouth his teeth altered, every single one of them sharpening to a fine triangular point while becoming slightly flatter in shape. The hairs of his eyebrows trimmed and faded into nothing while the ridges grew more prominent, becoming thick and chunky while sticking out significantly above his eyes. All the splotches of black continued to make their purchase across his face; ears sinking into his skin until there was nothing left and his hair only shaving itself more. The once neatly swept back style had shrunk away with each follicle disconnecting and falling off his scalp. It wasn't long until all he'd be left with was a small tuft on his scalp, and even then that didn't last long as the transformation persisted so that it could soon leave him smooth and hairless.

Once the hair had receded from the back of his head, his balded crown pushed out more as it gained more of a defined shape. The roundness of it flattened as the structure shifted and changed to something more cylindrical. After some amount of time the cylinder found itself differentiated slightly from the rest of his head, the crown's shape giving way to what could only be described as how the primer of a bullet would look.

The bullet motifs didn't really stop there either. As his face shifted, the shape it took seemed more and more akin to that of a bullet's body. The rounded muzzle of his face was like that of the bullet's projectile, meanwhile the portion between that and his head's crown was the remainder of the cartridge. The best way to describe his new head shape was like that of a ten caliber bullet, albeit with a bit more of a rounded tip and much larger in size than a normal bullet.

A growl continued to exit his throat, his mind continuing to be ravaged through all these changes. That burning aggression from earlier was like a flame rushing through his brain. All that was once Bill just fell to dust or boiled into steam. Such a weak and useless job dealing with office work, there's nothing fun to destroy in an office! What's he supposed to do with numbers anyway? Useless little things, all he needs is his fingers to count off the number of rounds he could fire off!

"U-uuuurgh…" he continues to hold the sides of his bullet-shaped head in between his hands. Thoughts of violence and destruction were filling his head, each one causing the ends of his mouth to curl upwards in a smile. A small chuckle escaped his throat, only to intensify as all these desires continued to light his mind ablaze. "Ggggeheh… heheheh…!!"

A level of pure unhingedness was overtaking him. All those thoughts of late nights and work getting thrown to the ashes. Memories of number crunching, accounting, math; such things were useless to a man such as him! Years of learning were getting sundered, his brain constantly dulling with time. He obviously wasn't the brain of any operation, just one of many brawns. His muscles ached at such a thought. Brawn, power, strength, that's what truly mattered!

Of course with all of that he'd still need at least a speck of knowledge, in this case that being working with artillery. It wasn't anything complicated though, all he knew how to do was adjust a barrel and fire whatever weapon he's been charged with utilizing. Even then he'd much prefer a physical fight. But either way he'd always be the best at doing either job!

Any aspect of his old personality was quickly overtaken by a new one. The aggression was one thing, but his soft and kind personality was all replaced with pure cockiness and arrogance. A drastic contrast to his own self, but then again he'd find such a personality weak anyway. There's no room in his brain to be soft, only strong and powerful to go toe-to-toe with someone! If anything he felt like he'd always be moments away from his gunpowder setting off and rocketing him into a tussle!

But of course, all of this strength isn't for himself. The only thing that would truly remain of the original Bill was the overachiever aspect of his personality, but here that gets shifted and changed into loyalty. He wants to devote his strength to his lord. The king that forged him, the king that commands him to fight, the one that gives him a sense of purpose. The name Bowser is what comes to mind, and thinking about him gives the newly changed man an intense feeling of allegiance. His loyalty is to Bowser, always and forever, and nothing can be done to strip that. He wants to do everything in his power to make his king, his lord proud.

"AHAHAHA!!!" The transformed creature let out a loud, deep laugh that had a gravelly tone to it. Any fear and confusion he was feeling was gone, replaced with a certain overpowering drive to fight for his king. Anything that was once Bill has been gone. All of him had been overtaken, forgotten, substituted for a single new being.

A Bullet Bill, that was what he was. A singular piece of ammo in the barrel that was Bowser's offensive army. Being one of many didn't matter to him though, his only purpose was to use his strength to serve and protect his king. Such a thought makes him smirk, the newly forged Bullet Bill giving one of his beefy muscular arms a good strong flex and watches whatever weird cloth that surrounded its shoulder rip off and fall to the ground.

After spending a good few seconds admiring his muscles, he lowers his arm and smiles. "Ready to serve, my…" he trails off as he notices where he was. "...king? Eh? Where the heck am I?"

He then looked down at his body. Why was he wearing torn up shorts? He has no use for those! He grabs onto the tattered denim pants and tears them off with ease, taking note of the other strip of cloth on his left arm and instantly going to pull it off as well. It left his perfectly sculpted, chiseled, metallic form visible. Smooth, yet rigid with muscle. He had the right components to punch through a wall, or survive sudden impact towards the top of his head. Looking at his muscles just made him want to admire his strength again…

"...ehem," a voice clears its throat from in front of him. The Bullet Bill's thoughts are broken from that, looking around at his height for a few seconds too long before realizing he could just look down again to find the source. Said source was proven to be a familiar-looking, blue-robed, and bespectacled magikoopa. One that he instantly had clocked as his superior.

"General Kamek! I didn't see you there, considering you're so short and all! Heheh…" In comparison to the Bullet Bill, Kamek was indeed extremely short. "So General, mind telling me where we are?"

Kamek just deadpanned, his focus hanging on the jab at his height. "...I'm not in the mood for this," the magikoopa holds up his wand, a reddish-purple glow activating in the gem, then twirls it before turning around to fire a beam into the hallway he fell into. The beam stopped in midair, formed a small sphere of light, then instantly grew into a large portal that was slightly taller than the Bullet. Within the portal one could see that it led to the gray brick halls of Bowser's Castle.

The Bullet Bill just eyes at the portal, seemingly awaiting orders. At least they have that going for them, Kamek thought to himself. "And don't worry about where this is. As your commander I request you head into that portal and find your way to the armory, then await for instructions from Lord Bowser."

A toothy grin formed on the Bullet Bill's face, the creature nodding a single time in confirming. "Yes, sir!" Then, without even thinking twice, he jogs his way towards the portal as a mental map of Bowser's Castle forms in his mind. One of the only things he would ever deem remembering, it would seem. His heavy steps stomp past Kamek and straight into the portal, the newly forged Bullet Bill now properly enlisting in Bowser's steadily growing army.

This also left Kamek alone in the office space. Holding up his wand again he waves it, the portal shutting itself in response. It leaves a small purple and red light orb, but it snuffs itself out a few seconds after the portal closes.

The magikoopa then sighs, mentally checking off another box on the ever vast list of recruits he needs to make. He admittedly didn't anticipate just about how much work was going into transforming random folks into suitable minions for Bowser. Repeated magic like this was always rather exhausting to perform for a little guy like him. And he's definitely going to have to push himself to his limits if he's going to fulfill this request per the king's desires, especially within the next couple days!

"Ah, so much work…" he begins walking forward, his small feet practically silent on the ground of the office space. The only sound that was heard was the wood of his wand clunking to the ground every so often as he uses it as a cane. All Kamek thinks about is how he plans to attain more victims to transform into loyal soldiers. Perhaps if he were lucky he might someone so other people in this building and-

Ding!

The noise echoed through the empty office area, followed by the sound of doors sliding open. A couple footsteps are heard followed by a male-sounding voice speaking. "Did somebody leave the lights on here…?"

Kamek remained unseen for the time being, but the smile forming on that face proved that wouldn't be the case for very long. Ideas and thoughts flowed through his mind as he began to make his way to the source of the sound. Another person to transform! Yet another soldier for Bowser's Army! Although perhaps he should go with a common Koopa Troopa this time around.

Only a few minutes later a bright flash of red light illuminates that very floor of the office building before dimming back to its previous dimly lit appearance. This would be one of many for this night as the plans to propagate Bowser's Army continue onward. Soon it will be brought to full strength…

…or perhaps it will be at an even fuller strength than it ever was before.

#character tf #species tf #transformation #muscle growth tf #tf

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nightlight-writes · 2 years

Text

Route Blue (HS! Ike Eveland x Reader)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: bullying

Notes: The title and main inspiration for this fic come from Shikimori-san Is Not Just A Cutie! If you have the time and like fluffy and wholesome romance, please check it out!

DISCLAIMER: The writing contained herein concerns the characters, NOT the streamers.

Class 3-B. That was your section for the year. Everyone spoke about it in fear, claiming that the gods had chosen it to be the “cursed” classroom this semester. Part of your job involved dispelling rumors and gossip among other students, but all your efforts were naught as they continued to spread to the point that some became outright legends. Slowly, you opened the door.

The only person inside was a bespectacled boy with ashy ombre hair. He was too busy writing in his notebook to glance at you, and you were too occupied with taking your seat to think of bothering him. Soon, other students came in as well. You observed that their steps were slow and shaky, that their faces were oily with sweat, and that they braced themselves and shut their eyes while opening the door. When they opened their eyes, their gazes would be fixed on that boy, and he would sigh every almost every time the door opened. It seemed that that man was somehow the cause of the legends…

Eventually, time came for lunch break. You decided to eat your meal alone on a wooden bench. Other students would pass by, speaking about ‘that foreign transfer student’ in hushed tones. The subject of their conversation soon sat down with you, drinking a can of soda. Fog covered his glasses, while his clothes blended in with the blue sky. You couldn’t say no to some accompaniment, so you figured that a simple greeting would be appropriate.

“Oh? I’m sorry if I bothered you, I’ll go take my lea-”

You flashed an ‘okay’ sign, signaling that it was fine for him to take a seat. As he lowered himself, you could see the ghost of a smile forming on his face.

“My name is Ike Eveland and it is a pleasure to meet you. What’s your name?”

After giving your reply, the two of you went back to eating. The school bell rang, signaling the resumption of classes. You both walked to your classroom together. Even the students that found safety in the presence of the school council president turned their backs away in fear. When you finally reached class, you felt something let go of your hand. Ike’s cheeks turned cherry pink and his right palm was practically coated in sweat.

“Oh God! I uh--um, hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable!”

After feeling a brief warmth on your face, you went to your seat in a calm, deliberate manner. The remainder of class was mostly uneventful; occasionally, you could hear Ike tapping his pen near the window. The council meeting today was mostly composed of brainstorming ideas for the annual Halloween fair, with one member suggesting a scary story competition. When school finally ended, you brought out your clover-patterned umbrella and proceeded to walk home, only to hear…

“Hey, I already gave you my pen and THAT’S not enough?!”

It sounded like Ike! Quickly, you rushed over to the source of the sound to see a lithe boy surrounded by many men, all of different shapes and sizes, with evil looks on their faces. They all turned around as soon as they heard your footsteps.

“What, you think your status can save this scrawny little shrimp?”

You stood in front of your classmate with a furious look on your face. From behind, he silently shot out an intense glare. You pointed behind you, signaling for Ike to start running. The look on his face soon softened to that of one of worry. Ike then whispered in your ear.

“But fighting’s just gonna get you hurt! Just let them have the pen; if we run together, we’ll certainly slip on some stray pebble on the road.”

Suddenly, one of the bullies lunged at you. Your response was that of a swift kick, followed by a punch in the stomach. You grabbed Ike’s hand and ran as fast as possible. As if though he had foretold the future, he slipped on a dark gray pebble and fell face down on the floor. Before lifting your acquaintance up into a princess carry, you picked up his glasses and put them in your pocket. The weight slowed you down, but you figured that you could still run a reasonable distance away from the delinquents. As soon as you were confident that they had given up on chasing you, you placed Ike down near a wall and kneeled down to inspect him.

From the bits of skin that weren’t obscured by clothes, he looked like he had no new injuries. He placed his hands over his eyes and started crying, wetting his face; his words were rendered incomprehensible from the sobbing. You slowly patted the brunette on his head, causing his breathing to gradually slow down. After a few minutes, Ike had found the words he wanted to say.

“I-I’m sorry I got you into this mess, I should’ve known my luck would’ve kicked in sooner…”

You asked your classmate to uncover his face. When he did so, you wiped the tears off with a handkerchief. After bringing his glasses out of your pocket, you cleaned them on your sleeve and held them out to him. His hands were trembling intensely, so you looked into his hazel eyes and put up a reassuring smile fitting of your stature. Slowly, the trembling went away, and Ike grabbed his glasses and put them on. His grimace slowly turned into a tiny smile, but the moment he opened his mouth a beep sounded from your alarm. It was already 7:00 PM; the two of you should have been home by now. You tapped Ike on the shoulder and got up, making him get up too. After waving each other goodbye, the two of you went your separate ways…

The next day at school, you saw your classmate near the school gates. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lighted up with joy and he rushed to your side.

“I couldn’t say it last time, but thank you for saving my butt back there. If it was just me against those guys, things would’ve gotten quite messy!”

He could see that you were holding a box with a blue ribbon on top. Slowly, you unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box, presenting it to him. Inside was one black pen and five colored pens. A notebook decorated with a little keychain was also included in the package. Your classmate seemed awestruck by the gift, seemingly in disbelief. After assessing the situation, he then brought an umbrella out from behind his back.

“After that incident, I was thinking of how to repay you. While I was walking back home, I spotted an umbrella with a clover leaf pattern and your name on it, but as soon as I reached out to grab it, it flew away! I hope this new umbrella is sufficient for your needs.”

Quickly, he whispered, “You probably shouldn’t open it around here though”.

You checked the time. It was 7:30 AM, 30 minutes before the start of class. Together with your new friend, you entered the school building.

#nijien #luxiem #luxiem x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #nightlight.txt

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charlettebffxiv · 2 years

Text

Prompt: #6: Left Behind

((Unsung Prompts are a series of writing challenges given in my RP community. They centre around my character Charlette Bellamy’s life, thoughts, community and adventures))

Dust in Thanalan is quite something. Many might think that an odd thought, perhaps a pointless one, but if you take a moment you might be able to appreciate where it comes from. Charlette had a moment, she had plenty right now, and so this was what occurred to her. When every gust of wind billows a red plume over you and leaves you itching, sneezing and tinged with a gentle, ochre glow, is it not somewhat special? No? Well it certainly is irritating.

A leather boot that was practically burning with that ‘ochre glow’ scuffed at the ground, kicking up yet more of the red earth. A grey-blue hand peaked out from voluminous, location-appropriate sleeves and wiped at a sweating brow. The linen turban that had been lifted from it moments ago soaked dark with lost water. Charlette was not in her element at all, a fact that left a small knot of worry in her chest whilst she ambled down a pathway cut through the thin Thanalan shrubbery. It had been worn there by many carts, heading to where they all inevitably go, Ul’dah. Gods but it was malms away from the looks of it, though the waves of heat may be distorting her vision? Bespectacled people tend not to be all that trusting of their eyesight, pity she couldn’t listen for it, bat-like in her sense of direction as she was. Or so she liked to think. This was a fine mess to be in, and a fine time for this particular stretch of ‘country road’ she was following to suddenly be devoid of any other travellers. It was positively bustling when she had made her way out here, the guide that had brought her on his own cart had been positively fuming at the traffic. “I wonder what he was in such a rush to do?” the duskwight spoke aloud. She could taste her thirst on her lips, salty and sticky and threatening to crack, but all she could offer was a lick. Judging by the weight of her waterskin, she couldn’t quite afford to remedy that thick-feeling inside her mouth, like her saliva was slowly turning to paste. “Had other business, in the town just over, don’t you remember?” a voice answered her. Now she was alone that much was certain, but the second voice did not draw a startle from her. Instead she reached a hand into the satchel, always hanging from her shoulder, and from it she produced a book. Turned it over to face the cover and answered “Ah, so now is a good time for you to speak?” The tome she stared down at had an oval shape embossed into it, corners filled with floral designs like autumn leaves, and framed in the centre was the title ‘Legumes and Where to Find Them Volume 3: Decadent Desiccants of the Desert’. Yes, all that fit, but it didn’t really matter as at that moment the ‘M’ of ‘Legumes’ and the ‘W’ of ‘Where’ had blinked. The space between title and subtitle spread open, and the face of the tome spoke with a voice so soaked in smugness it could water the barren landscape and then some. “Oh do not be so dramatic, darling Bellamy. I am a busy text, after all legumes are the food of the masses, mmh? Many need me, and I can only attend to one volume at a time. You know this, you silly thing.” she did know this, she was well aware. About as aware as she was of the magnifying glass in her bag and its incredible ability to start fires in the midday sun. “Of course, though it seems your ‘popularity’ has distracted you from the important task of scheduling. We had an appointment, about five bells ago? I believe you said ‘With my vast knowledge and your nimble appendages, we will find those beans in a matter of minutes!’. Or was I mistaken?” Her impression of the book was only half-right, but we can forgive Charlette’s performance considering the circumstances in which she was giving it. The tome did not do her as much kindness “Well that was rude. I do not sound like that, though if it was an honest attempt at dignified speech then perhaps you should be more aware of your limitations.” The pout on the books ‘lips’ stretched the words and creaked the leather it was made out of. It did look positively insulted though. “Rude? Hmh, let us speak of rudeness then, yes?” Charlette smacked the spine of the book, Legume’s giving a pompous “Oh my!” as its pages fluttered, then snapped shut from the impact. Now it was paying attention, the eyes in the circles of ‘g’ and ‘d’ going wide with indignation “Is it not ‘rude’ to say you will do something, and then simply not do it?” Whack! She lifts the book and slaps it down on a flat palm “Stop that!” it complains. “Is it not rude to agree on a time for a meeting and then simply not. Show. Up.” she emphasised each word with a hard stab of a fingertip against the ‘face’ of the tome. “Ow! Stoppit! Stop!” it complained. “Is. It. Not. Rude!” Charlette rolled the ‘R’, practically revving an engine of disgust. Holding the tome with both hands, stopping in her dusty tracks and looking directly at the fat-lipped, indigent cover of a book about beans. “To promise someone you can lead them out of a bloody desert, to levin aspected beans, across the treacherous biome of the Thanalan savanna, all before the midday sun has a chance to roast her bloody ears to burnt match tips. AND THEN NOT DO IT?” She pulled Legume’s in closer, for that is now this book's name. It was but an ilm from her manic, dehydrated, bordering on uncivilised face. “And possibly leaving her for dead in the process? Is that not rude?” if the tome could nod, it would have. Instead, Legume’s offered this: “If you are quite done, you should probably know you are going the wrong way.” If Charlette’s sun could have been further ruined, it was. But perhaps not much more than Legume’s who found itself strapped to Charlette’s waist, and breathing in every puff of Thanalan dust her furious footsteps kicked-up. What kept him there, face forward and present at all? A magnifying glass and a rather angry promise to use it should they require a campfire at any point. If it had any clever thoughts to add on the subject of said dust, Charlette was glad that nothing but coughing came out.

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv writing #elezen #duskwight

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b00t-s · 2 years

Text

Begone thot

this is part 3

I'm sorry if this is short, C!Thomas is surprisingly hard to write.

Thomas he/him

Roman he/she

Nico he/him

Virgil he/him

See the character intros for more info

Tw. Swearing, capitals, Virgil's and Thomas' (very mild) anxieties

Unfortunately, some of the dialogue is a tad slow, bear with me, i do not have a proof/test reader :)

Again, tell me if I'm being insensitive. Shout at me if I am.

Summary: Thomas being a literal Disney princess and not making decisions himself

Thomas exhaled and slumped over the table.

It had been a quiet morning but, nevertheless, he was still here.

He was always here.

He was always there, with his sticker-adorned laptop and his adorable ruffled hair and his cute little glasses and his amazing personality aaaaaand Thomas was gay.

Thomas wanted to go up to him and actually speak to hi, start a conversation, not just to send Virgil over to serve his Coffee.

He should be the one to be confident enough to serve The Guy's drinks!

But he didn't even know his name, and he wasn't going to come out of the blue and ask like a creep! Normal people don't do that! Talk to people! In public! ..right?

...He better ask Roman what to do first.

He dailed her number and waited.

After five rings she finally picked up.

"What up Thomathy"

"Hi! So I am calling you...I am c a l l i n g y o u t o d a y"

Roman replied, used to this behaviour.

"..Yes, you are"

"I am calling because...well..it's

"Well then hurry up then loading screen! I've got a lot going on!"

"....what-?

"Yeah, not one of my best ones." He mused.

"Well OK then-it's--well I thought seeing as---maybe you could--uh..it's about a g u y-"

Thomas winced and held the phone away from his ear as an ungodly squealing emitted from the mobile.

"XNHISNXEBYIWDB OK OK STAY CALM CALM DOWN THOMAS WHOO SO WHat is the problem? Oh oh is it that guy who you always attempt-and fail-to initiate gay eyes with at your work? The cute one? The one you once tried to talk to but ended up buying five bags of carrot sticks from The Store™ for some reason?" Roman sounded like she was about to spontaneous combust.

"Buddy--buddy I-uh-I'm in public here-" Thomas said, anxiously awaiting the stares he would surely gain from the shouting leaking from his phone. More specifically, awaiting His glorious bespectacled judgment.

"Right, right. So you want me to come over? I'm totally coming over. You at work? Does Janus work around this time? What? Ignore that one-uh-see you!"

"Roman wait--" Thomas groaned as she hung up before he got to finish. Why did she have to be like this? And what was that about Janus? Not important. At least he's coming to help.

And boy, Thomas needed help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So let me get this straight--"

"good luck with that"

"Thomas, come on man, not the time" Virgil was pacing around in the backroom, full of second hand anxieties for Thomas. His purple tipped hair flopped in a frenzy like it had a mind of its own. Roman was sitting on a counter, swinging his legs. Patton, oblivious was left to serve customers by himself.

"You, Thomas, want to make the first move" Virgil continued

"uh-" Thomas looked at Roman, who gave him a thumbs up. "Yes?"

"You? You."

"Oh stop being so pessimistic all the time my chemically imbalanced romance, support the poor guy! He certainly needs it" Roman hopped off the counter, rummaging in her bag.

"I though you guys were here to help" Thomas grumbled "I don't see a lot of helpin-" he was cut off by Roman attacking him with a hairbrush

"Do you ever brush this mess? It's worse than my rug, jeez Thomas" Roman dragged the brush through Thomas' mess

"I have the power to ban you still" Thomas has used this threat too many times for it to be effective. Virgil just watched, biting his nails, as Roman ranted about what to say, how to walk, how to act and how to gather information for small talk.

"Roman that's just creepy. Thomas, just go up to him and say hi, if he rejects you at least you know its because he didn't like you, not what Roman told you to do."

"Gee thanks Virge" Thomas gently swatted Roman away, took a deep breath then went out there to talk to The Guy.

"Aaah, they grow up so soon" Roman wiped away some fake tears

"Thomas is older then you" Virgil replied, walking back to his job. Roman huffed in response, and sat at a table.

Right next to The Guy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Heyyy-you-" Thomas already died approaching Him. The holiest of guys. And he already ruined it.

"Oh-hey! You work here, right?" Oh my god, Thomas loved his voice. It was so reassuring.

"Haha, yeahh. I'm actually,,manager. Well, co-manager, but still! Prettty important job" Thomas wanted everything out of his mouth to stop.

"oh-cool. Is there-is there a problem?" The Guy said in the least rude tone of voice

"No! No, no, nope. None. Everything's-perfect, actually. Uh-good job"

"...thanks? Did you need..something?"

Thomas looked over at Roman, who was not-so-discreetly spying on him. Roman couldn't hear shit from where she was, though, so she just gave another thumbs up.

"Uh-no, not really-i liked your pins and stickers, actually-uh-fellow Disney fan?" Thomas said this with more confidence

"Yep! It was my childhood, and actually inspired a bunch of my song writing today!"

"oh! that's cool! I like-songs-" Thomas laughed nervously "Mind if i sit here?"

"sure"

Roman watched as Thomas and The Guy, who he later finds out the name of, Nico, talked for a good few hours, chatting about mainly nonsense. At the end, when Nico had to leave, he handed Thomas a slip of paper with his number on it. Thomas said his goodbyes, then power-walked over to Roman.

"ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh"

"You did great! Obviously all thanks to me. Did you get his number?? Name????" Roman spoke unnecessarily quickly.

Thomas merely nodded, drained and incredibly happy. He set out on shutting the store, Roman close behind, demanding details.

Thomas rested poorly, but stayed incredibly happy the next day, staying up to chat to Nico until around two am. He promised himself that he wouldn't start a pattern of it, but he was lying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi.

I hath risen from the dead!

Yes, content! I'm sorry it's not alot though, my bad-

i am even planning the next chapter in advance, woah!!!

This chapter may seem weird because i wrote it over a long period of time, starting it then not continuing for a whole bunch of months, and i'm still incredibly new, but i tried!

Tag list: @ranboo-but-booran @spellingwillbethedeathofme @remy-please-come-back @arrowthenon-binaryroyalty

#tss #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #ok ish

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grasshoppericulum · 4 years

Text

Little things to write characters who wear glasses (permanently) with:

- Taking off and folding their glasses expertly before they go to sleep

- On the rare occasion that they sleep with their glasses on, waking up and absent-mindedly reaching for the area next to them where they would put their glasses, having a moment of panic when they're not there

- Either having sparkling clean lenses or filthy ones, covered in scratches and fingerprints that they never notice

- Indents at the sides of their nose or above their ears

- Getting small spots in the areas where their glasses frames sit on their cheeks, against their skin

- Squinting

- Looking around confusedly, shaking their head or squinting when trying to look at something with glasses that they know are the wrong prescription for them now but glasses can be expensive and they haven't had these ones for long (very changeable eyesight)

- Poking the bridge of their nose when they aren't wearing their glasses because they forgot to take them off

- "Can you zoom in please?" (When prescription changes)

- Facial twitches that they use to push their glasses up their nose, sometimes this happens even when their glasses are off

- Complaining when their glasses get too lose and start sliding down their nose or falling off when they tilt their head

- Complaining about eye tests and the bright light of the camera that photographs the back of the eye and leaves everything pink

- Getting mask straps, jewellery and hairbands twisted or stuck near the handles of their frames

- Wanting glasses that don't match their face

- "Here, try mine on lol"

- Competing to see who has the worst eyesight

- Lenses falling out of their glasses and having to pop them back in again

- Glasses wipes or spray cleaner?

- Being careless with their glasses

- Feeling that their glasses are almost a part of them and being awkward with contacts

- People saying that their face looks different without their glasses because they're rarely off

- Being sick of being asked how many fingers someone is holding up

- "No I CAN'T just 'take them off' because then I can't SEE!"

- Trying to play sports without breaking their glasses

- Kids assuming they're smart because they have glasses and they might be or they'll be an absolute disaster

- Doesn't use glasses cases really

#writing #writing prompts #writing prompt #character #character idea #characterisation #writing advice #writing tips #langblr #books #bookblr #writingblr #authorblr #glasses #characters with glasses #write your bespectacled characters RIGHT

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bellatrixscurls · 3 years

Note

I love your blog 😫💦 could you pleeeease maybe write something for poly!marauders where the reader is the sub, and Remus and Sirius always tease James because he never punishes her (he’s the soft!dom of the 3) so then when she next breaks a rule he punishes her for the first time and she doesn’t expect it and gets all bratty because he’s usually the soft one 🙈🥲💕

im sorry james is actually a switch but- the whole plot is still the same :> all characters are over 18!

“M just saying—” laughed Sirius, rubbing at his eyes as tears welled in them, “You just never punish Y/n. They could even break your neck and you’d praise them for it.”

James’ brows pushed together in confusion, genuinely struggling to find a memory from when he punished you. Only one, he begged. But his mind was still empty.

He huffed, turning to Remus, “Moony!” he whined as he plopped down on the couch across from the lycanthrope. “Tell him that’s not true!”

But Remus couldn’t lie to him like that, especially when he could barely keep himself from barking with laughter. He gave James a tight lipped smile, shrugging as he went back to his book, hiding his face behind it. “Pads’ right, James. Y’just can’t do it— But don’t worry, that’s what we’re here for.”

James felt his blood boil as heat rushed up to his cheeks. What was he doing wrong? He never punished you, so what?

Right?

***

Sirius watched as James paced around their dorm, his hands twitching at his sides as he waited for you to finish your study ‘date’ with Marlene.

The bespectacled boy was determined to punish you today. He wanted to know how it felt like, and why Sirius and Remus enjoyed doing it so much. Maybe he would like it and then his boyfriends would stop laughing at him.

Three quick knocks on the door and it opened, and closed just as quickly. There you are, thought James. You were wearing the pink skirt and purple shirt — his favourite.

He cursed under his breath when he saw you, your wide eyes locking with his.

You dropped your notebooks with a thud. “Everything alright?” you asked, a tiny bit worried as to why the room was so silent when you walked in, and that it remained that way.

Sirius beckoned you over, his arms opening and wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him as his chin rested on your belly, “Pretty pup” he whispered and you smiled weakly as you looked down at him. “How was today, baby?”

You sighed, remembering the punishment Sirius had promised you earlier on the day. You were bad, you knew that. It all started when you woke up late and missed your first class of the day. Potions.

You really didn’t mean to, but it happened anyway. And of course, now they had to punish you. You knew all too well that James wouldn’t do it, so it was either Remus or Sirius. And although Sirius was a hard dom and a meanie — as you liked to call him, you prayed to God that he would be the one to punish you. Remus knew your pretty little brain like the palm of his hand, and he found immense joy in playing with it.

Chewing on your lip, your eyes moved from Sirius to Remus and then back to the raven haired boy. “Who’s... who’s gonna do it, Siri?”

And you wondered how those six words managed to make his face break into a grin, but you didn’t give it much thought, rather mentally preparing yourself for your upcoming punishment.

He turned to James, letting his hands fall from where they met around you, gently pushing you towards the curly haired boy. “I think Jamie would like to try too, puppy. What about that?”

Remus watched intently the scene before him — a flustered James and a confused Y/n. And he felt his heart triple in size at the prospect of watching the normally soft dom punish you. Fucking finally.

“I’m sorry?” you giggled, looking back at the other two boys, as if you couldn’t believe your ears. James? Punishing you? Oh please.

But Remus shook his head, shrugging as if he wasn’t able to do much about it. “I am sorry, bun. It is what it is.”

It was your turn to furrow your brows, looking at James in incredulity. “Y’not gonna punish me, are you? Just too soft for that.”

He groaned, looking up at the ceiling before his gaze returned on you. “Well” he said rather calmly, anger visibly boiling inside of him, “You broke a fucking rule, didn’t you?”

You took a step back at the severity of his tone, his baby blue eyes now a darker shade of blue, grey almost. “J-Jamie” you pleaded, your bottom lip trembling and James’ eyes softened at the tears forming in your eyes.

Sirius elbowed Remus, and he quickly stood up and stood right behind James, as if to guide him through the whole thing, and at the same time, Sirius stopped behind you, ready to put you in your place if needed.

The lycanthrope cleared his throat before whispering in James’ ear, although you could clearly hear what he was saying. “Don’t let them fool you, Prongs. That’s just a little act stupid sluts use whenever things are not in their favour.”

“That’s so mean, Rem-” “Shut up” Sirius’ right hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing at the base and pulling a strangled whimper from you.

James’ lips formed into a frown as he analyzed his boyfriend’s behaviour towards you. He had to be like that too.

“You choose the punishment,” Remus continued, giving his shoulder a little tap as Sirius basically threw you on the bed, “make them cry, don’t settle for less.”

His eyes were wide and he gulped as he approached you, his knees hitting the side of the mattress, his tall, muscular frame towering over you. You felt small, to say the least.

“W-what are you going to do, Jamie?” you asked timidly, your cheeks burning.

He laughed quietly as he leaned in, his elbows resting next to each side of your head. You thought he was gonna be gentle, that that little laugh meant he still had some mercy on you.

And oh, were you wrong?

The answer was yes. And you only realised that when his hand wrapped around your throat, just like Sirius’d done before, but some things were different between them. James’ hands were bigger, and he was squeezing right below your jaw, barely even allowing you to even breathe anymore.

“Did I tell you to speak?” he asked, feigning curiosity, leaning closer until you basically shared the same air, your lips almost touching his. “Your dumb baby brain really can’t get it, huh? This is a damn punishment. You get that?”

“Y-yes, Jamie” you reassured, nodding fervently as your tiny hand found his wrist, gently squeezing it as your cheeks grew redder.

James let go of your neck, his hands moving to undress you, all while he tried to distract himself from apologizing to you. You were breathless and James was more than worried, but little did he know that you actually enjoy every moment of it.

When you were left bare under his hungry gaze, James licked his lips as he ran his hands up and down your body, leaving goosebumps behind, your smooth skin sending shivers down his spine.

Your sopping folds were on full display for him, your clit already red from the whole throbbing caused by James, and James only. He took great pride in that, of course.

“Got such a pretty cunt, m’love” he praised but immediately added, when he heard Remus clear his throat, giving him a bit of a suggestive glare, “S a shame this pretty cunt has been wasted on such a dumb baby.”

You whimpered at his words, bucking your hips when you felt his thumb push against your clit, drawing lazy circles on it as he smirked down at you. “Your dumb baby” you said, even though it came out as more of a question.

“My dumb baby, dove” he repeated like a prayer, a soft smile playing at his lips but he immediately hid it as he lowered himself so his breathing fan your sensitive cunt.

“P-please do something, Jamie- Owie!” you whines when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your left cheek, his hand coming up to give your clit a harsh slap.

James hummed contently as he let go of your alarmed flesh, his hands now moving to caress the skin he’d hurt. “Baby” he mirrored your pout, “Only little sluts beg, darling, yeah? Are you a little slut, hm?”

“I’m- I’m good, Jamie. Not a slut, jus’ wanna be good f’you, p-please” you cried as he pushed two fingers inside of you, your warmth welcoming him in as quickly as possible.

“Yeah?” you nodded eagerly, “Then be good, baby” and with that he dove in, devouring your cunt like a starved man, like a wild animal.

You cried out, your muscles clenching as your legs closed around his head, your toes curling at the feeling of his skilled tongue against your most sensitive spot.

“That feel good, bunny?” Remus asked gently, subtly mocking you, not that you even cared right in that moment. You just nodded frantically, fighting back the moans that were involuntarily spilling from your mouth. “I bet. Jamie’s tongue is always so good, isn’t it? He’s so good to you, dove.”

You whined at his words combined with the thrusts of James’ fingers inside of you, his tongue pushing below your hood, just where you so often dreamed of him being.

“S yummy” James praised, his voice slightly mumbled as he refused to unlatch himself from your clit.

Sirius laughed, mocking the way the bespectacled boy’s eyes rolled back into his skull at the taste of you. “S alright, Prongsie. Just make sure you follow the plan, yeah?”

And that’s when it hit him. This was your punishment, you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, at least not for too long. You were being bad, and he couldn’t risk letting you get away with it and then getting out of hand.

He pulled his drenched fingers out of you, his tongue poking out and licking your arousal from his lips as he stood back on his heels, fully enjoying the view — your puffy cunt on full display, fat tears running down your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry, poppet. But you were bad, honey. Y’understand?” he reasoned, his hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumbs to wipe your tears.

You nodded bashfully, your thighs shuddering as you felt your clit throb, needing to get off as soon as possible.

Remus and Sirius both gave James a sweet kiss —praising him with things like ‘that’s a good boy’ or ‘you did so well, pretty boy’ —before they entered the small bathroom of their dorm, drawing a bath for you.

James watched you intently and he almost started crying at the look of sadness in your eyes, avoiding his own as you sniffled into his palm.

He looked around for a second before he whispered, “I promise I’m gonna give you m’cock after they go to sleep, bubba. Jus’ the two of us. ‘Nd then you can get as many cummies as you want, baby. That okay?”

But before you could give a proper answer, a loud voice interrupted you. “Really, James?” Sirius exclaimed, though he seemed unbothered, as if he was expecting it to happen.

“They’re giving me the look! You know I can’t just refuse them like that!” he protested.

Remus sighed, smiling as he sat down and pulled Sirius onto his lap as he looked at you and James expectantly. “They’re gonna do it anyway, they might as well just give us a little show, hm?”

“You’re a genius, Moony!”

🪶 taglist; @silverdelirium @malfoy-girl @daddymalfoy-issues @teenwolfbitches28 @remusjlupinisdead @maybanksslut @mrs-brekker15 @elizabethrosedarling @gothboutique @tomriddles-wh0re @divanca2006 @acciodignity @nic0lodean @ginnysbabymama @kayleiggh @samaraaaaa @saintlike78 @yiamalfoy @indigoh4ze @justadreamyhufflepuff @someonetookmygin @mollysolo @nevilleismywhore @i-love-scott-mccall @pottahishotasf @daedreamss @spencervera @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @katmoonz @haroldpotterson

#james potter smut #james potter blurb #james potter x reader #poly marauders #poly marauders smut #poly marauders blurb #poly marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #marauders smut #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter blurb

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

Note

hi shyna! congrats on 100 followers, you deserve so much more and so much love! <3 if it’s still available i would like to request dessert, flour, cumin, cinnamon the characters are kuroo and tsukishima. i am a infp-t and my pronouns are she/her. :) <3

KURISUUUUUUUUUU ILYSVM THANK YOU<3333....also I now know that you're an INFJ now, so Imma factor that in :D To get to write about our favorites omg I love this, lets go!!

I Think I've Seen This Film Before

features: tetsuro kuroo x f!reader, kei tsukishima x f!reader

final dish for: @hyeque

type of writing: drabble

trope: love triangle, domestic au

warnings: major angst, descriptive of toxic relationships, oh, and timeskip spoilers (not much i guess, just the occupations probably)

beta reading: @mrskenmakozume (you’re a lifesaver ily)

number of words: 988 (not including the song lyrics)

song: exile by taylor swift ft. bon iver

prompt: “Well, this is not what I expected to happen.” “You said you needed me - the feeling’s mutual. You make me believe in the beautiful. You said I held your heart together, made you better. You made me fall, every day, and I’d do it all the same.” - @sleepyprompts

a/n: it was for this Drabble that I’d made a poll and by the majority, y’all decided that Tsukki was the ex and Kuroo the current 🤣🤣 i hope y'all enjoy this nevertheless

Made with Love: 100 Followers Event (closed)

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all And it took you five whole minutes To pack us up and leave me with it Holdin' all this love out here in the hall

The annual Japanese V.League Celebration Gala attracted a sizable crowd. While speaking with one of the potential sponsors for the upcoming All-Stars Match, (Y/N) had her man's arm around her waist. She looked at him, clad in a blue three-piece suit, white shirt, brown shoes, and a red tie, and was chatting with eloquence and ease. She ran her fingers through Tetsuro's jet-black hair and fiddled with it for a while. He smiled back as her (f/c) off-shoulder gown and the sparkling jewelry adorned her (h/c) hair that she left open, accentuating her beauty.

In a world where everything is fleeting and attachments are short-lived, she felt grateful to be with him. Although a peculiar emotion overtook her as she saw a familiar bespectacled light blonde-haired man wearing a black suit, blue shirt, and black shoes gaze at her scornfully, as he looked at both of them as they were laughing, from the corner of her eye. She had excused herself to go to the restroom, and on her way there, someone grabbed her wrist and brought her to a halt. She opens her eyes to realize it's her ex, Kei Tsukishima, the Sendai Frogs’ Middle Blocker.

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me Second, third and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

“Kei,” she exclaimed, her mouth gaping open. Then she flicked her hand away from him. “I shouldn't be surprised you're here, because I noticed you staring while Tetsuro was with me.”

Kei replied, “I need to speak with you,” clicking his tongue in annoyance. “What is there to talk about, Kei? I'm with someone else now. You’ve had your chance,” (Y/N) retorted, frowning at him, she continues as she dashed towards the restroom.

“I really need to talk to you,” Kei implored. She then folded her arms, her (e/c) orbs staring right at his golden-colored eyes. "Go on then," she said honestly. “Talk, but keep it short and sweet. Isn't that how you usually like it?”

Taking a deep breath, he softly looked at her, his eyes conveying a genuine sense of regret, and confessed: “I am not only here to attend the gala, but I also wanted to apologize to you.” “For what?” She replied, narrowing her eyes. Kei began to stutter, “I…I need…”

“What is it this time, Kei?” she chided, approaching him. “What exactly do you need? Because the last time I checked, you told me to leave and to never return from our home, Kei,” she added, her voice a little louder.

This caused Kei to flinch back, tears welling up in his eyes. “I need you back, (Y/N),” he sobbed. “I made a grave mistake,” he sobbed as he grabbed her hands, holding them tight. “I'm still in love with you, (Y/N). I should not have misinterpreted-”

“Misinterpreted what, Kei?” (Y/N) asked, pulling her hands away from his. “How dare you assume I cheated on you just because of my interaction with Tetsuro! Ever since the first time we met, you always had something to say to me. When I dropped my gym bag, you told me to watch where I was going, even though you were clearly in the way. You mocked my love of volleyball while you had to deal with your issues about-”

“Stop, just stop!” Kei closed his eyes and cried. “I'm not finished until I've gotten this baggage off my chest.” She stopped talking and let him continue.

“You were there for me when I was still apprehensive about my perception of volleyball,” he continued. “You congratulated me after I succeeded in reconciling with my brother. You were worried for me when I injured my finger during our match with Shiratorizawa, at the Nationals, and when my confidence seemed to crumble apart.” He smiled at you weakly. “You taught me that it was okay to be vulnerable in front of someone and have them accept you, no matter what. You said you needed me - the feeling’s mutual. You make me believe in the beautiful. You said I held your heart together, made you better. (Y/N), you made me fall, every day, and I’d do it all the same.” Kei shook his head. “But it all came to an end one day. You called it off. I thought I was okay with it at first, but I'm not. I need you-”

I think I've seen this film before, And I didn't like the ending I'm not your problem anymore, So who am I offending now? You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before, So I'm leavin' out the side door

“Oya oya oya?” Both of them suddenly turned around to see Tetsuro walking up to them in the corridor, chuckling. “Well, this is not what I expected to happen. My ex-best friend and my girlfriend, confronting each other.”

(Y/N) put her hand forward. “Babe, I can handle this.” She looked at Kei and said, “Please don't look past what went wrong with our relationship. Regardless of how it started, what we had, hurt. I could never get you to open up your feelings for anything, but you had no problem passing remarks whenever I did something slightly wrong. We bickered constantly, which at first seemed adorable because I always believed that we'd become stronger... but no, it got worse.”

“I gave you so many chances when you apologized,” she continued, then pointed at Tetsuro. “You even accused him of flirting with me when the truth is we were poking fun at you. That night, when you saw me inside the cafe with Tetsuro, I was venting out to him about you; he never made a move on me. When I came back home, you and I had a huge argument and it all came back to our past. I thus learned that you'd never change.”

“It's over, Kei. I wish you all the best,” she said, giving him a lukewarm smile, before turning on her heels and going back to where the gala is, leaving the two men alone. A few moments later, Kei heard Tetsuro speak, “Tsukki, if you only told her the truth...” He then walked in the opposite direction, leaving him to clench his fists in despair.

tagging: @akaashi-todorki @saltyvanilla @ohtobiors @cirigiri @beware-of-the-rogue @cuz-like-why-not @oikawas-milk-bread @sabyss @reinaphoria @lunaevangeline @wakatshi @animated-moon @ceo-of-daichi @quirrrky @tetsoorou @ffsg0jo @rueren @mxonigirimiya @jordyn-degas @jellyluchi

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wutheringmights · 3 years

Note

Twilight for the ask meme!

Some people think I only have strong opinions about Warriors, but that's not true. I am an extreme opinionated person and I have Thoughts on everyone, but especially Twilight.

What I love about them: TP Link was my first Link, and they say you never forget your first. He's sort of the standard I hold every other Link in the series to, and there's a lot of things about him I adore. If I have to pick one thing in particular to highlight, it would be how he's the epitome of a normal guy who gets caught up in a divine scheme that is far grander than him. He's the heir to a cursed line of heroes, but he's also just a rancher. Everyone around him is fighting for these larger than life stakes, like the fate of Hyrule and the light realm. And he just wanted to save some kids. He's way in over his head but he can't escape his destiny.

What I hate about them: I think LU Twilight is the most boring way you could have interpreted TP Link. I'm sorry, but it's kind of true. The comic renders him into what non-Zelda fans think Link is like. And it's a little trite. It's just a tad dull. When I write him, I try to imbue some of my person taste in TP Link into him, but even I gotta admit that it's a little hard to make him more engaging.

Favorite Moment/Quote: I really like that one moment when Legend is interrogating Twilight about being Wolfie, and Twilight says "everyone knows you can't keep wolves as pets." It's such a little shit answer and I love it. He knew what he was doing.

What I would like to see more focus on: I want to see more of his relationship with the other members of the resistance. There was a Twilight Princess fic I read a few months back that elevated their involvement in TP to the point where they all knew about Midna, and it really opened my eyes to how much potential there was in those relationships. So give me more of the resistance!

What I would like to see less focus on: Honestly, I think we've stunted Twilight's character potential by making everything about his relationship with either Wild and Time. I want to see more about him with the other boys. For example, I think Wind would have a little beef with him because Twilight was just handed the right to be a hero while Wind had to work for it. I also think his friendship with Sky would be god-tier if only more people would explore it.

Favorite pairing with: Midna. Did this even surprise you? I have been a Midna fan my whole life, and I cannot conceive of any version of Twilight that wouldn't be in love with her. They're not a perfect couple, but that's what makes it even better to me. They're not meant to be together, but god, they want to be.

Favorite friendship: Sky. There is no two Links who would understand each other better than Sky and Twilight. They both understand the feeling of being given divine expectations they had no control over. They both are so beyond their simpler days that they could never settle down again. But their personalities complement each other great as well, especially when considering the parts of their characterization that didn't make the translation to LU (like Sky's sass and Twilight's brashness).

NOTP: Shad. Listen. I support everyone and anyone who set out to get Twilight a boyfriend and landed on this scholar twink boy. Good for you, and I'm glad you're happy. Unfortunately, I have been harboring a resentment to that bespectacled bastard for over 10 years now. Not only is he an elitist bastard who looks down on me for being a poor country boy, but he makes me run all the way around Hyrule to finish his book. Bastard. Every time I replay TP, I want to punch him.

Favorite headcanon: You know the Anne of Green Gables situation? Where she was an orphan who was adopted by a family on the condition she would work on their farm and they would pay her way? That's what happened to Twilight. He was sent to Ordon by an adoption agency when he was 10 to work for Fado in exchange for housing and such. So even if Fado technically adopted Link, he's the whole village's kid.

#I know I called Twilight a boring bitch but please believe me when I say he's actually one of my favorite Links #Like I said. I am. Opinionated. I have Thoughts #also bet you can't guess who is actually my least favorite Link #Place your bets now because I doubt anyone will guess it #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu twilight #loz midna #me rambling #ask #anonymous

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startanewdream · 3 years

Note

For your jily leaves

James and/or sirius discovering the marauders map in Harry's stuff.

Your wish is my command ;)

Set during the summer break after Prisoner of Azkaban, when Harry is grounded because he went after Pettigrew and went to Hogsmeade hidden (more here).

Hope you enjoy this happy silly moment between Sirius, James and Harry (or the real reason I write this series).

Good times

Sirius coughs when he enters the attic and a cloud of wind greets him.

'Get used', Harry's voice says, coming from a place in front of him, though he can't see him behind the piles of boxes. After a few seconds, Harry emerges, a scarf covering his nose and mouth.

Sirius chuckles. 'You look like a cowboy. From those old movies'.

'Bang bang', Harry jokes, pretending to aim with a gun. 'What are you doing here?'

'Came to see your father, he isn't here yet. So I thought of checking on my favourite godson'.

'The only one', Harry remembers, laughing and moving to another box. 'A good godfather would help me, you know'.

'Cleaning builds character', Sirius assures, looking at an old mirror and cleaning with the sleeve of his hand to see his reflex. 'And you need a lot of character'.

'Ouch', Harry complains. 'I have been grounded all summer'.

'This is what happens when you run after a convicted criminal'.

'Isn't what you do all the time?'

'Yeah, but I get paid for it', Sirius winks at him. 'Also, it helps that I am an adult. You might wait until you are out of age to run after bad guys'.

Harry points at his scar. 'I wish, but bad guys keep coming'.

'Well, you are unlucky in that way. Also, I may have heard running after Wormtail wasn't the only reason you were grounded'.

Harry flushes. 'Well, the other reason is even less fair. You guys sneaked out to Hogsmeade all the time'.

'Not when one's father had forbidden it'.

'You went with a werewolf!'

'Again, no one expressly forbid it. You don't want to get grounded, you don't get caught'.

'Next time I won't', Harry mumbles under his breath.

'Good. You have the Cloak and the Map too, just like we did'. Sirius stops, a thought crossing his mind. 'You do have the Map, right?'

'Yeah, Dad let me keep it. It's the least he could do, really. With the lot of things he did while in school…'

Harry keeps babbling, complaining about unfairness and clearly unhappy with all the chores he has been doing this summer, and Sirius smirks.

He lets his godson still cleaning the attic and goes downstairs; there is an old friend he wants to see.

He walks to Harry's room, finding it opened. His things are all messy in the room (clearly his chores were limited to the attic, not to his own room), but he finds the old parchment between his books.

It doesn't look like the parchment aged a day. Moony told him about his delight that he had found it again, and Sirius understands it. No matter what happened later, that Map still brings him joy as if he is seventeen again, just finishing his signature of his name on the Map.

He takes out his wand, pointing to the Map as he had done countless times.

'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'.

The lines appear there, tracing the outline he knows better than anywhere else. It's mostly empty, only a few little dots walking on the map, and he slides his finger to the Gryffindor Tower, then to the Great Hall and then to the Forbidden Forest. So many memories. He traces the passages outside school. James might have grounded Harry for sneaking out, but he would have been upset if Harry never did it…

He rolls his wand between his fingers before he lets the tip touch the Map.

'Sirius Black would like to talk to the masterful creators of this Map’.

The lines appear swiftly, an invisible hand writing them, and Sirius remembers spending days of one winter break trying to perfect this spell.

‘Mr. Prongs notes that a request with such formality cannot be ignored’.

‘Mr. Moony wishes to know when did Mr. Sirius Black became so distinct’.

‘Mr. Wormtail salutes Mr. Sirius Black and bids him a very pleasant day’.

‘Mr. Padfoot presents his esteemed regards to Mr. Sirius Black, to whom it is always a pleasure to talk to’.

Sirius grins, sitting at the edge of Harry’s bed.

‘Mr. Moony wonders what joke is Mr. Black planning today’.

‘Mr. Padfoot trusts that Mr. Black’s plans will be conducted perfectly’.

‘Mr. Prongs wants to know if the most distinct of Mr. Black’s friends will be joining him’.

Sirius laughs. ‘No, James is busy now’.

‘Mr. Prongs wonders if Mr. Black’s most interesting friend is busy with his offspring’.

‘Not now’.

‘Mr. Prongs wants to know if aforementioned offspring will be joining Mr. Black’s plans for today’.

‘Mr. Padfoot agrees that this particular offsprings shows potential’.

‘Actually, the mentioned offspring is doing chores today. His father may have been upset that he broke a few school rules last year, with the courtesy of you, of course’.

‘Mr. Moony would like to register the unfairness of Mr. Black’s bespectacled friend punishing his offspring for doing something he did on a daily basis’.

‘Mr. Wormtail agrees with Mr. Moony and wonders when Mr. Black’s most passionate quidditch fan friend decided to become so restricted’.

‘Mr. Padfoot is astonished that Mr. Black has not found a way yet of breaking the mentioned offspring of its chores’.

‘Mr. Prongs is too upset with Mr. Black’s best friend’s choices to declare his opinion’.

Sirius’ laugh echoes in the room. A few seconds, he hears someone knocking on the door, and raises his eyes to find James there, all disheveled from coming from outside.

‘I thought I heard a dog here, but Harry knows he can’t bring stray dogs home’.

Sirius gives James a nice hand gesture before inviting him in.

‘You laugh now, dear Prongs, but you are so embarrassed with yourself’.

‘What —’, he stops noticing the parchment on Sirius’ hand. ‘Is that —’

‘The only one and original. Here’.

James picks the Map, his eyes running through the conversation, but he doesn’t grin like Sirius hoped. He knows what’s on his bespectacled quidditch most distinct friend’s mind at once.

‘James — don’t let him ruin the Marauders’.

James takes a deep breath before giving back the Map to Sirius, but his expression relaxes. He raises one eyebrow, a shadow of a smirk on his face.

‘They are disappointed with me, but you haven’t told them you were not planning any prank’.

‘I didn’t see the need for mentioning this’.

‘Only my bad side, huh?’ James picks his wand, touching the Map. ‘James Potter would like to register that Sirius Black has no plans of pranks because he is a serious laborer now’.

‘Mr. Prongs is astonished that Mr. Sirius Black could take anything other than his name as serious’.

‘Mr. Wormtail asks if Mr. Black is working as a service dog’.

‘Mr. Moony believes Mr. Black is fitter to work as a dog walker’.

‘Mr. Padfoot would just like to understand when Mr. Black’s choices of life has surpassed the fact that Mr. James Potter is punishing his offspring for breaking school rules’.

‘Mr. Prongs would like to point out that Mr. Black’s life choices are far more upset than needing to educate a child’.

‘Mr. Padfoot wants to discuss the hypocrisy…’

‘Oh, look what you've done’, Sirius complains. ‘They are discussing again. It will be hours until they stop’.

He lays on the bed, watching the ceiling. James lays next to him.

‘We should have charmed them to stop after a few minutes’.

‘Yeah, but we wanted them to really represent us —’

‘— and at sixteen we could discuss for hours’, James finishes, a little nostalgic.

‘Well, we had a lot of free time’.

‘No, actually we hadn’t’, remembers James, grinning. ‘But we made it through’.

Sirius chuckles again. ‘Good times’.

They stay in silence for a moment, broken when Harry enters the room, throwing himself in a chair.

‘I am exhausted’, he says, eyes closed and a painful expression on his face. ‘I won’t ever finish it until the World Cup’.

‘Hardwork will pay, son’, James says teasingly.

‘Would be a lot faster if… is that the Marauder’s Map?’.

‘Yepe’.

‘Why are words appearing on the Map?’, Harry asks, and Sirius doesn’t need to check the map to see that lines are still appearing there. Prongs and Padfoot can keep a discussion for a long time.

‘Oh, that would be Prongs and Padfoot arguing who has disappointed more his young self’, Sirius replies, grinning.

‘Ah’, a smile creeps up on Harry’s face. ‘I’ve seen them — the “manufacturers” — talking. And not just me — Snape got a taste of it too’.

‘Snape?’, Sirius and James ask at the same, raising to stare at Harry. His green eyes are open, smirking with satisfaction.

‘Yeah, he found the Map too’.

‘Then what?’, James asks, greedy, when Harry stays quiet.

‘Oh, I could tell you, but the attic is so dusty’.

Sirius grins. ‘Oh, I see your game’.

‘Extorting your own father, Harry James?’

Harry’s smile becomes innocent now. ‘I will make it worthwhile. One of the lines told him “to wash his hair”’.

‘Fine, no dust’, James agrees genially, raising and grabbing his wand. ‘But you better tell us in details’.

#jily lives au #eyes glistening #Harry & James & Sirius #they are happy #let them be happy

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