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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Injury

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,657

Warnings: Blood, injury, slight violence, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Week 3 of keeping up my writing schedule let’s go! This week is a bit angsty, my forte (I think?) As usual part one – with Albedo, Childe, and Diluc – will be posted tonight and part two – Kaeya, Xiao and Zhongli – tomorrow.

At first this was going to be both your injury and your recovery but then the first character hit over 1.5k words so I guess this is going to be a pseudo-series. I really don’t know the definition of concise lol.

In the first part of my last fic I realize I gendered a word. I’m super sorry about that, and I promise to fix it and tag properly next time. Childe gets to go into the stone forest cause I say he can. I’m not sure if waypoints are diegetic or nondiegetic. I decided to make them so. Also the first hospital in China was opened in the early 1800s, and I know hospitals aren’t very “fantasy” but Teyvat has good medical science in my book.

Albedo

Throughout his life the one thing that Albedo never truly understood was peoples’ obsession with modesty, even when it was false.

There was a lot that Albedo was proud of in regards to himself; his intellect for one, his curiosity, his abilities as an alchemist, the fact that he feared little in the world. Above all perhaps was the pride he held in carrying himself without falling into hysteria, his grip on his emotions was impeccable and whenever he was unfortunate enough to see others gripped with a heavy emotion he was always left with a sour feeling in his mouth – a disgust for someone who had so little sense they couldn’t even control themselves.

This was a pride that left him quickly enough upon seeing you injured.

It wasn’t meant to be a dangerous expedition. It’d merely been a check of the vast network of caves and tunnels that could be found in Dragonspine. A route affair, mundane even in how simple it supposedly was. There was nothing to be afraid of. Albedo had told you that back at home and you’d smiled in agreement. Yes, there was nothing to be worried of, a few hilichurls at most and a temperature that could be easily kept in check with the right preparation. You’d be there and back in less than a day, no problem.

Everything, however, had gone horribly wrong. The cave that you two intended to explore turned out to be a vast network, full of tight tunnels and half submerged under freezing water. You two had managed that well enough, although once Albedo had almost slipped and fallen into the underground river, the whole outlook of the expedition was looking drearier and drearier.

Eventually you’d reached what had seemed to be the heart of the cave, floor after floor of ice with a hole in the middle, all lit up by crystal and scarlet quartz. It was an impressive sight to be sure and you’d stood a little ways away from the edge, observing the way the light refracted off the ice coated walls, waiting for Albedo to be finished with his sampling, enjoying the awesome sight in front of you.

Albedo had just finished when you’d let out a yelp. Whirling around he saw what had captured your attention – a wild snowboar who’d managed to wander in. The two of you watched the very confused creature in awe, only staring as it stomped the ground and charged right into the wall.

That was a mistake.

All of the sudden the cavern started shaking violently. Cursing the boar for its terrible – or maybe impeccable – aim the two of you sprinted towards the exit. You’d managed to gain the lead, not bogged down by Albedo’s extensive equipment, and had turned around near the beginning of the tunnel in order to help him. Just as you were heading back one of the many icicles that lined the roof of the cave came undone, landing with a sickening thud right where your collarbone met your spine.

You’d dropped like a rock, and Albedo felt his stomach to turn water and his mind turn to static, as suddenly all logic seemed to leave him, instead replaced by dread so overpowering he seemed to lose track of his surroundings, chained to the ground by something greater than himself.

You groaned and time seemed to unfreeze itself, instead accelerating at a breakneck pace. Leaping into action Albedo immediately dropped all of his equipment, the sound of glass vials shattering muffled by the cases that held them and the panic that was gripping him. Hauling you over his back he ran through the tunnels, wincing every time you made a sound and biting his tongue every time he shimmied through a particularly tight spot and it seemed it might not let the two of you pass as you were.

He could feel the blood seeping through his gloves. Your blood. Only a few minutes ago he wasn’t even sure that icicles could make one bleed. Now he wished he’d never found out, wished that he’d never asked to explore the caves of Dragonspine, wished that you’d never agreed to it. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to the dangers that waited in vast caverns of ice and snow, where the slightest wrong movement could spell your death.

Albedo could’ve cried when he sighted the camp. Indeed he might’ve, realizing that there were frozen tears on his cheeks only after you’d been taking to the medical tent. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed anything really in those terrifying moments between when you’d gotten hurt and when he’d made it to the camp. It all seemed not to exist in his mind, washed away by the emotions that had wracked his mind and body. Even now he couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that was crashing into him like a wave, utterly helpless as he was thrown this way and that.

The pride that he’d clung to was in tatters, and Albedo looked upon it now in disgust. He’d been so innocent, so foolish, perhaps mercifully so. But all that was gone, and his certainty had gone with it. There was nothing left of him almost; nothing except fear and anger and worry, and Albedo wondered when he might ever feel sure of everything again.

It was cloudy when you were released, arm in a sling, brace around your shoulders. Albedo wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it had seemed like an eternity. The urge to run up to you and wrap you in the tightest hug imaginable was intense, but the sight of the brace held him back. Instead he brought you hand up to his face, kissing your palm before holding it against his cheek. You smiled at that, but there was fatigue in your eyes and you said nothing. Albedo couldn’t blame you. He moved to let go and turn towards the path, somehow feeling unworthy of holding your hand after being the cause of your predicament, but you quickly grasped his hand once more. He smiled a slightly shocked smile, but made no move to let go.

As you two walked back to Mondstadt Albedo felt himself once more flooded by negative thoughts. Lowering his gaze so he was looking at the ground he paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Albedo found his voice cracking, tears welling his eyes even as he chastised himself for how stupid he must’ve looked. You were safe, you were going to be alright, the head of the clinic had said so himself. Why then did he still feel like he might crumble any minute? Shaking his head he moved to cover his face with his hand.

“Hey.” There was still fatigue in your voice, but there was also an urgency in it. You squeezed the hand you were holding, moving so you were facing him. “Hey, is it okay if you look at me?”

Albedo moved his head up slowly. He was truly crying by now, having given up all efforts to do so otherwise. You smiled softly as his eyes met yours.

“I’m alright, okay? And you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I doubt that even the drunkest man in Monstadt could’ve guessed a wild boar would wander in a cavern and start a cave in. You can’t control fate you know.”

“I know.” Albedo forced the words out, although more and more it seemed impossible, his throat was too constricted to be anything more than barely coherent. “Still. I should’ve known. And I should’ve kept it together. I, why am I crying? Why wasn’t I in control? Why, why am I still not in control?”

“Because you’re human Albedo.” You replied, shaking your head slightly. “You’re the most wonderful human alive, but you’re still human. You mustn’t beat yourself up for what you are. I’d rather you cry anyways. There’s nothing noble in hiding your emotions, they must come out one way or another. So please, please cry all you want, long and hard. And tomorrow you can start your penance, alright?”

“Penance?” Albedo mumbled, still crying. You nodded, smile still nothing but fondness and understanding.

“Well someone’s going to have to help me for the next two months. And I know you’re too much a gentleman to make me stumble along myself.”

“Of course.” Albedo’s answer came fast and sure. He paused then, realizing that, by distracting him with the weeks to come, you’d managed to give him a pocket of time to calm himself, to feel himself once more firmly planted on the ground. Love mixed with anger and sadness in his mind, and for a moment he could only marvel at you.

Albedo leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. He’d do whatever he could to help you, this he promised himself. And this too he promised himself; you’d never ever be hurt on his watch again.

Childe

If there was anything that Childe hated it was a lack of control. The feeling of everything slipping through his fingers was something he’d felt often as a child, and that feeling had haunted him. When he’d signed up as a member of the Fatui he’d promised himself that he’d never feel that way again. He’d protect those he loved and he’d keep his life from falling apart. It was a promise he was determined to keep, no matter what.

You two had decided to go hiking. Or rather it was less of a hike and more of a rock climb. Childe had long bragged that the Huaguang Stone Forest was the most beautiful place to watch the sunset, and you’d finally gotten a free weekend. Waypointing your way there initially, your partner had taken an almost childlike joy from choosing which mountain was the highest.

“Childe have you decided yet? The sun is almost at the horizon.” You called out at the Harbinger. Childe was, much to your dismay, the stronger climber, and had taken to scouting ahead of time to see if the spot you were climbing to was any good. Now he glanced down at you, mischief written all over his face, his smirk flashier than usual. He put his hand on his chin and looked outward once more.

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

“Childe!” You exclaimed, your arms slightly killing you. You really wish that you’d convinced Childe to bring a roped and belay. Unfortunately that request had been met with a whine and an accusation of “that’s cheating!” You’d laughed it off at the time, but now you were starting to regret your partner’s recklessness. As much as you were enjoying your time – being alone with Childe always felt intensely special and you cherished every moment of it – you were also impatient to actually watch the sunset, and in your hurry you wondered if it might not be faster to climb back down and watch from the bridge.

“I do believe that we’ve found the tallest one!”

“Thank the Seven.” You groaned, hurrying to get to the top. Childe chuckled, watching you scale up the mountain.

“Oh come now, I had to make sure it was perfect! Besides you looked so comfortable perched there, it almost hurt to disrupt you.”

“When I get up there I’m killing you.” You shot back, reaching towards the ledge. Still laughing Childe stuck out his hand and you moved to grab it, pushing off with your feet as much as possible, determined to make it up the mountain in the next move.

The laughter died from Childe’s lips the moment your hand missed. Instead it was replaced by fear, cold and sharp as a knife, plunging straight through his heart. Time seemed to slow down, but you were falling so fast, falling, falling, falling. Catapulting himself off the top of the mountain Childe reached out for you. In his mind he was screaming. Glide. Oh please, for the love of the Seven glide. Please, don’t fall, it’s so high up. I couldn’t bear it. Please.

Still the words were stuck in his mouth, and his throat only constricted more when you hit the bridge with a sickening thud. Releasing his own wings at the last moment he landed on the bridge too, only a few meters away from where you were now crumpled up. Running over he scooped you up. You’d managed to right yourself at the last moment in the air so that you were landing feet first, but though you’d managed to protect your head your legs dragged limply, and one was bent at an awkward angle. Looking at your mangled form, listening to you as you screamed and whimpered in pain, Child felt overwhelmed by his vast helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Burying his head in your neck he sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The journey to Liyue was excruciating, both for you and for Childe. Although there was no external bleeding the initial adrenaline of falling had no worn off and you felt every jolt and movement as Childe slung you on his back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and carrying you to the nearest waypoint and then to the Liyue doctor. Even when Childe was standing still you thought you might die from the sheer pain. So intense it was that sometimes you gave up, blacking out only to wake up feeling like you were drowning, the burning air around you almost too hot and too heavy to breathe.

Childe willed himself to numbness throughout the journey, only allowing him to collapse once you’d reached the hospital, practically ramming into the nearest chair in the waiting room, the situation washing over him.

How could he have let this happen? Hadn’t he made a promise? A promise that he’d protect those he’d love, that he’d never lose control of a situation again, that he’d never let those he cared about suffer? Where was that promise now? His whole world seemed to collapse in on itself now. He hadn’t been able to protect you. Despite his training, his reflexes, his vision, his everything. You’d still fallen. And as powerful as Childe liked to think he was, he still couldn’t turn back time and stop your suffering.

Finally the doctor opened the door and Childe was let in to see you. After informing him that you were on painkillers the doctor left you two alone. Faced with you laying on the hospital bed Childe sank into the nearest chair. Lacing his fingers through yours he drew circles on your hand over and over. For a moment you two said nothing, then Childe let his head rest on your hands. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice raw.

“I know.” You replied, mind a bit hazy from the painkillers, the magic infused herbs luring you to sleep. Still you pushed forward, needing to say something before Childe let himself be carried away. “I know, but it’s not your fault. And it’s not irreversible. The doctor says in 8 weeks I’ll be fine. Until then, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“But what about your adventuring? Your commissions? How can you do those if you can’t –”

“I’ll figure it out. Adventuring isn’t just monster slaying you know. And there’s no catastrophe in being in a wheelchair or on crutches.” You shook your head. Childe was still crying, and you could feel his tears running down your linked hands.

“Ajax.” Childe’s head shot up, surprised. He loved when you called him by his true name, it always seemed like a song falling from your lips. And now that song was filled with understanding, if not a bit of sadness. “I want you to not blame yourself.” You continued. “I know it’ll be hard, I know that these feelings won’t go away. And I’m not blaming you for them. I’m not happy about this either, of course I’m not, I just went through a world of pain. But I won’t be able to stand watching you beat yourself up for 8 weeks, I won’t be able to stand that look in your eyes every time you look at me. So please, please stop. If not for yourself then for me.”

Childe stared at your for a while. You waited, not wanting to rush his thought process. Eventually though he shook his head, a small smile finally breaking his expression.

“You’re too good for me you know. Alright. I promise to try. It’s the least I could do.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. Childe smiled back. He didn’t know how you managed to do it, how you managed to take his fears and look them in the face. All he knew at that moment was that he loved you. And for now, that was enough.

Diluc

Diluc stared in horror as the Fatui Bracer aimed a Geo projectile right at you, his horror multiplying into rage and terror as the concentrated energy flew through the air and landed right at the base of your ribcage. You crumpled at the impact, wheezing heavily, apparently stunned from the power and speed of the attack.

How could this have happened? Diluc knew that the Fatui were gathering in Mondstadt, something that the winery owner turned Darknight Hero couldn’t stand. But never did he think to see Fatui skirmishers right outside the walls of Monstadt, strolling along the beach of Cider Lake as if it were Snezhnaya. Never did he think he’d have to see another loved one felled by a member of the Fatui, and never did he think that he could bear the emotions coursing through him now.

He made quick work of the Bracer, hacking and swinging without rhyme or reason, barely able to comprehend what was going on. Everything felt oddly separated from him, as if he were watching through someone else’s eyes, watching as he burned through the Bracer’s shields as easily as if it were made of wax, leaving the man groaning and screaming in pain before silencing him altogether.

The feeling of separation only grew more powerful as he ran over to you. You seemed to be conscious, but your breathing was shallow and ragged, and the place where the Fatui’s attack had hit seemed mangled, one of your ribs having seemingly been broken. You were screaming, though it was hoarse and low and tired. Still if you were screaming you were alive, and at least Diluc could hold onto that.

Carrying you in his arms Diluc winced as you let out another shriek of pain. You two weren’t far from the gates of Monstadt, but every step seemed to be a thousand steps and what was surely only a few hundred meters instead felt like tens of thousands of miles.

You were going to be alright. At least the doctor had said you were going to be alright. Surely Diluc could be grateful for that? But he didn’t feel grateful, instead he felt anger and hatred welling up inside of him. He’d told himself it was no good to be an angry or hateful person, that doing so would only push you away, would only destroy the fragile bonds he’d managed to build between you and a selection of others. But still the anger and the hatred lingered, refusing to be quelled or stuffed away.

He wanted revenge. Revenge on the Fatui, on the Tsaritsa, on the uncaring world that let him be so tormented, and that so tormented the ones he loved. How could this have happened to you? You who were made of goodness, more goodness than he’d found in the world beforehand. How was this a fitting reward?

It was decided that you could stay at the Winery during the 6 grueling weeks that was to be your convalescence. Diluc said nothing on the way there. He was afraid what would happened if he opened his mouth. Already he knew his face was betraying the feelings welling within him. He didn’t need to make it worse, not now.

Arriving at the Winery Diluc carried you to his room, the nicest room there was. Up to this point you’d said nothing, and Diluc wondered if you weren’t too groggy to do so. However when you spoke up there was an urgency in your voice, one he simply couldn’t ignore.

“You’re angry. You’re trying to hide it but I know it.”

“I’m not the one in pain right now.” Came a curt reply. Diluc was looking at you with what others might’ve mistaken as a glare. Perhaps it was even that, but there was something beneath it, and you knew it ultimately wasn’t directed at you.

“I am. And I’m upset too. But I’ve accepted it. You need to accept that you’re angry too. Burying it won’t help, it’ll only make it worse you know. You have to acknowledge your emotions. You don’t have to hide them. At least not in front of me.”

The expression on Diluc’s face finally broke. The anger there was raw and palapable, but there was also something else, something he’d also buried.

“I was… terrified.” Diluc finally let out. “I was so terrified it frightened me. I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

“And you shouldn’t have to hide that either.” You prodded softly. “But I’ll be alright, I promise. So please, just be open with me and then we’ll go from there.”

Diluc nodded, finding himself unable to speak. Walking over to where you were laying down he peppered kisses all over your face, light and ethereal as butterflies.

He’d do right by you. That’s what he promised himself, after all the hiding and the pain. He’d do right by you. But he’d also not forgive the Fatui for what they’d done, and tonight when Monstadt was asleep the Darknight would be watching. And for any Snezhnayan roaming the streets and lurking in the shadows, there’d be no forgiveness.

#this is being posted later in the night than wanted so sorry about the typos #I'll reedit tomrrow morning I promise!#okay wow my computer almost crashed right now okay #albedo #childe #diluc #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 3 years

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1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2021! Below you’ll find 23 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup.

Happy reading!

He Carries The Key by @lululawrence

[Niall/Louis, OT5, 8k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Niall was mostly home, ready for a shower and a chat with Louis, when suddenly Niall was flooded with emotions from the pack bond.Shock. Surprise. Confusion.But mostly fear.Something was wrong with Louis.

Plus One by mynameispiaivy / @missrefridgefreetorator

[Louis/Luke Malak, 3k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis is invited to an event and he has to bring a "plus one".

Better Mistakes by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

[Harry/Louis, 117k, Explicit, tumblr post]

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-”

“Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.”

“You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?”

Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?”

“He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.”

Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...

Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 7k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

Hello, I’m sorry if this isn’t a post that is allowed on this channel, but I was hoping for the best since it is regarding a photography project I’m working on at the moment. I’m working on a set of sunrise kiss photos and therefore am needing a willing kissing partner. I’d hoped to be able to provide one for myself, but it hasn’t panned out, so here I am! I was hoping to find someone here, since I know most of you (at least peripherally) and can generally vouch for you not being creeps. Plus this way I know you will understand needing to continue to tweak the camera settings and reshoots etc that others might not.

Anyway, I’m looking for someone who identifies as male or male-ish (sorry, ladies) who is between the ages of 18 and 40. I’m a 29 year old male-ish myself, for those who would like to know before replying.

If you’re interested and are free the early morning of August 7th and would like to kiss in the sunrise with me for the sake of some (hopefully) interesting and fun photos, let me know via DM and I’ll give you the location.

OR the one where Louis needs a kissing partner, two show up, and it all might turn out for the best that way.

call my name and save me from the dark by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

“I don’t know if it was a nightmare,” he confesses to the ceiling, the darkness making it easier to speak up even when he still has to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. “It feels more like a memory. But it can’t be.”

Harry shifts, and Louis can feel his chin perched on his chest, doesn’t need to look at him to know that Harry’s studying him. “Why?” He prompts, when Louis doesn’t immediately continue, and Louis swallows, tries to shrug off the apprehension, the fear that Harry will think that he’s gone mad.

“Because I heard them pronounce me dead.”

Feels like home by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis comes home from work with an exciting surprise. Daydreaming and celebrations ensue.

this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface

[Harry/Louis, 4k, Mature, tumblr post]

The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight.

“Your jam?”

When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it.

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

I Know My Arithmedick (2 + 2 = 4sum) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Harry/Louis + Louis/multiple partners, 3k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry wants to watch Louis fuck someone else. Louis loves giving Harry what he wants. It’s simple math, really.

doG…and his friend by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright

[Louis/Harry, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

When Joan has to move out of her small, nice home and in with a random roommate, she obviously brings her dog/boyfriend, Doug, with her.

Doug makes a friend. And maybe more.

I Heard You Talking by @lululawrence

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Not Rated, tumblr post]

It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.

Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.

He was stunningly gorgeous.

Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”

God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?

Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.

All That You Need by @haztobegood

[Louis/Harry, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Pre-heat was always one of Harry’s favorite times to spend with Louis. It was a time to rest up and indulge in extra cuddles, like basking in a ray of sunshine before having to dive off the deep end. Louis lavishes him with tender touches and soft kisses. Harry wants to savor this time as long as possible. The unquenchable need will come later, but for now, his desires are simple. He just needed to be closer to his alpha. As close as possible.

sickly sweet fonding by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

A few members of their crew start piling up the dirty dishes and taking them over to the sink. Harry walks around the cameras, and smiles brightly at Louis.

“What do you think, Lou? Do I have it in the bag?”

Louis eyes a bowl of bright pink lumpy batter being cleaned from Harry’s side. “Of course you do.” He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and steers him away, all while ignoring the dramatic gagging Niall is doing. He doesn’t think it’s just the batter making Niall gag.

or the one where Louis fonds over Harry's horrible baking skills

Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Louis/Harry, 1k, Mature, tumblr post]

Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”

'Ere comes the milk by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit]

Louis is obsessed with Harry's mommy milkers.

everything comes back to you by stretchmybones / @onlyfor-thegays

[Louis/Harry, 8k, Explicit]

Harry and Louis are childhood best friends. What happens when Harry has to move towns just as they are starting their secondary gender presentations? What happens when fate brings them back together years later in the most unexpected of ways?

He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie

[Harry/Louis, 32k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Camp Infinity is the perfect place for a lot of things; hiking, swimming, sports, eating, and falling in love. Harry Styles is a bit too familiar with the last one from his years of being a camper. This year things will be different. He’s 21, a grown man now, and ready to see Camp Infinity from a different point of view; working as a lifeguard. However, his whole summer turns upside down when a familiar British lad makes his return into Harry's life.Or the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

Also known as – The Summer Camp Fic

tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale

[Louis/Harry, 20k, Explicit, tumblr post]

No, that's the tragic part of this, the part that makes Harry feel like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him. The father of his baby is exactly right, exactly who he always imagined himself having kids with. He just imagined them married, bonded. Happy. He didn't imagine them barely talking, tip-toeing around each other because neither of them is brave enough to talk about what happened between them. He didn't imagine the father of his child not loving him back.

or, the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

Getting a Head for Heights by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13

[Louis/Greg James, 3k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

The problem is, Louis thinks Greg would be quite good to date, so it would really help if everyone would stop reminding him of that fact so he could unthink it. He’d be a gentleman, at least until Louis talked him out of it, and he’s funny and nice and hot and they’re both into music and football and drama. He’s also a freakish giant of a human, and the problem with dating is that sooner or later you have to stand next to each other.

We Go Together (series) by @beelou / cherrylarry

[Louis/Harry, 3k, General, tumblr post]

A grease au

Hot Boy Summer (series) by @louisandtheaquarian / zita17

[Harry/Louis, 35k, Teen & Up, tumblr post]

Louis is an overworked bartender hoping to save up enough extra tips to buy a new air conditioner before he literally melts during a scorching NYC heat wave. Harry is the new neighbor that wakes him up by moving in his sole day off at 6am. An NYC enemies to neighbors to lovers AU featuring a rickety fire escape, the 2021 Euros, Lirry bickering like a divorced couple, and enough OT5 clichés to rot your teeth. (If Harry's pastries don't get them first.)

across the river is where my heart is by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 8k, General, tumblr post]

The first time they see each other is when they are toddlers, playing out in the yard. Louis remembers sitting on the perfectly trimmed lawn and getting yelled at for picking at the soft blades of grass; she remembers looking over, across the narrow but deep and wild river, and watching another little girl, out in a different garden, picking flowers for her mother.

She remembers carefully raising her hand and waving—her little heart beating hard in her chest, as if she had done something dangerous, something forbidden, even though back then she could not understand the true divide the River made amongst them.

bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.

whatever you feel like doing in this moment by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Harry/Louis, 2k, General, tumblr post]

Louis gets all that he's ever wanted during his favourite game at their group's weekly improv show.

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #1dsource #one direction fan fic

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snezfics-n-shit · 3 years

Text

Home For The Holidays - An AA fic that’s way too long

I’ve been thinkin bout that post that’s like “character with the kink is sneezing a lot and their partner who usually indulges them is having fun with How The Turns Have Tabled” so now I give you a Wrightworth + snzfcker Phoenix fic based on that exact premise. In which Phoenix re-introduces Miles to Mama Wright, Christmas is celebrated for 2 months straight, and disaster man Phoenix is back on his bullshit.

Tbh if I kept this lying around I’d just keep editing and it’d never get done oof but please enjoy

Phoenix’s mother had clearly purchased a new doorbell. The tune echoed from behind the door at the press of the button; this year, it was much louder and played Jingle Bells a month too early. Speaking of a month too early, other than a rather articulate variant of a ‘no soliciting’ sticker, the decorations on the door were Christmas themed as well, completely skipping Thanksgiving and likely put up the day after Halloween. That was just how Mrs. Wright was: a major Christmas enthusiast through and through.

Just as expected, she greeted her son and his family while sporting a comfy Christmas-themed sweater. Cats in Santa hats, a design that had Trucy in awe at how cute they were. Christmas and cats, two of Mrs. Wright’s joys in life. Mrs. Wright had little contact with family members other than Phoenix and Trucy, so she resolved a lot of the resulting loneliness by adopting cats. The cats she adopted were a lot like her, having few blood relatives around and finding a home in a found family.

“Phoenix! You’re early!” Mrs. Wright looked up and down at her son, assessing just how many extra pies she would need to make; he was skin and bones since he had been disbarred! “You didn’t have to shave before you came, dear. The holiday is this Thursday, so you have time to make yourself look nice.”

“You tell me that every time I visit, mom.” Phoenix chuckled. “Today, I have a good reason to look nice. There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

“Well, I know I’ve met your adorable daughter before.” Mrs. Wright leaned down to give Trucy a big hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to have a grandbaby to spoil!”

“You tell me that every time, too.” Phoenix stepped to the side, showing off Miles, who had done a spectacular job at hiding behind him before the big reveal. “This is my boyfriend, Miles Edgeworth. I’ve been meaning to tell you since we started dating, but only now does he have a day off where you can finally meet in person.”

“Wait, Miles?” Mrs. Wright blinked a few times. Miles was certainly as well dressed as the boy she remembered Phoenix bringing home so many times, but was he the same person? “That sweet boy who would always help me with the dishes when he stayed over? This is him?”

“I believe so, Mrs. Wright.” Miles hardly remembered his youth well enough to give a definite answer, but that sounded like something he would have done. It sounded like something he would do even now, actually.

“Sounds like you found yourself a keeper, dear.” Mrs. Wright held the door open wider to let the trio in. “It’s awfully chilly today. Come inside before you catch a cold.”

The walls were lined with framed pictures of Phoenix, with unsurprisingly many of which being of him celebrating Christmas. The trend continued even with pictures of Trucy that Phoenix had sent to his mother. While there weren’t nearly as many, there were a few notable photos of Phoenix’s parents: the pictures taken when they renewed their wedding vows and when Mrs. Wright got her associate’s degree after Phoenix started working with Mia, for example.

“Ah, now I remember.” Miles looked a little uncomfortable with the holiday-centric décor. “Your mother’s Christmas obsession.”

“Be nice.” Phoenix whispered. “It’s something she really likes; it’s not hurting anyone.”

“I love Grandma’s reindeer!” Trucy lifted herself with her tiptoes, eager to see the skillfully crafted wooden reindeer lining the shelf above the shoe rack. “Rudolph’s my favorite! Because he made everyone real sorry for making fun of him!”

“He did, didn’t he?” Phoenix slipped off his shoes and hung up his and Miles’s coats on the coat rack. “I like him, too. He had a talent that really turned Christmas eve around.” That sounded much like how he used to be in the courtroom. He missed that courtroom a lot.

“I’m gonna go find Buster!” Trucy ran off. Buster was one of Mrs. Wright’s cats; his big personality quickly made him Trucy’s favorite. Phoenix, however, was more fond of Doily (formerly Dollie), a friendly and relaxed cat who was happy as long as she had somewhere to sit. There were three more: a senior cat named Gerald, a gray tabby named Della, and a new kitten named Harvey. While it seemed like a lot of cats, the home Phoenix’s parents resided in after Phoenix left for Ivy University was specifically picked to be spacious enough for even the most rambunctious cats.

“I believe you told me you wanted to introduce me to your parents’ cats, correct?” Miles followed Phoenix to one of the living room couches. “And you’re sure they’re not aggressive or anything?” While Miles knew dogs had a history of being working and companion animals, he couldn’t exactly say he had read any solid proof of cats earning a similarly high status. Even the nicest cats he had met always seemed more interested in leaving as many scars on his hand as possible than being friendly with him.

“I can vouch for all but Harvey, since he’s new, but my mom has always been something like a cat whisperer.” Phoenix yanked a tissue from the end table next to the couch’s arm rest. “I’m sure they’ll like you a lot.” He smiled before blowing his nose softly. “My nose must be thawing out.” He chuckled.

“I told you to bring your scarf when I called you.” Mrs. Wright called out from the kitchen. “Now you’re catching a cold, aren’t you?”

“No, I feel fine.” Phoenix rubbed the bottom of his nose with the tissue folded in half. “Just part of warming up.”

“I’m surprised you’d forget your scarf for someone who claims going out with a wet head spells ‘pneumonia.’” Miles hummed.

“Hey, you know it’s not scarf weather.” Phoenix chuckled and tossed the tissue into the trash bin, impressed that he made the shot. Miles found it amusing that Phoenix completely ignored the wet head comment, likely because he really did tell Miles and Trucy that all the time. “It is the perfect weather for mom’s homemade stew, though.”

“I’m eager to try it, considering you’ve been talking it up since she called to invite us over.”

“It’s really good!” Phoenix repeated the claim he had been making for weeks. “I can’t wait for you to try it.” He pressed his knuckle against his nose. “Hopefully it’ll be dinner soon.”

“That won’t be for a while, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Wright carried some glasses of water to the living room. “Your father is working late tonight.”

“What does he do?” Miles leaned forward.

“He works in construction. He’s very proud of his work.” Mrs. Wright smiled as she placed the glasses of water on the coasters sitting in front of Miles and Phoenix. “Before Phoenix was born, where he worked didn’t earn him nearly enough to support us. He’s been much happier ever since he’s found somewhere that lets us live comfortably.”

“Where did he work before, if you-” Miles was cut off by the sound of Phoenix blowing his nose again. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“He worked with his father and other members of the community he grew up in.” Mrs. Wright explained. “It was actually looked down upon to earn the income we needed, or to even have a dream job. That’s why we’ve been so supportive of Phoenix pursuing his dreams; if he wanted to change his major a second time, we would have gladly let him.”

Miles couldn’t imagine being actively discouraged from achieving success. He assumed that pressure was always the other way around. He wasn’t able to lose himself in his curiosity, though. Phoenix’s deep sniffing made sure of that.

“Phoenix?” Mrs. Wright cocked her head. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yeah, really.” Phoenix waved his hand as if to dismiss any concerns. “I’m sure this’ll stop before dinner.” His breath hitched for a second, but nothing came of it other than an exhale through his mouth.

“If you say so.” Mrs. Wright stood up and left for the kitchen. “I’m going to work on the desserts, so you two just relax and drink your water. I think you need eight glasses a day.”

“Daddy! I found Buster!” Trucy cradled the fluffy orange cat like a baby, Buster’s favorite way to be held. “He let me hold him this whole time! He’s so nice!” Phoenix gave Miles a reassuring smile, pointing to Buster as proof the Wright cats were much friendlier than past cats Miles had met.

“Hey there, Buster.” Phoenix beckoned Buster to sit on his lap. “Wow, he’s really liking me today.” He blinked a few times. “Normally he just walks away when I ask for him to sit next to me.”

“Maybe he can smell that you’ve been spoiling Pess,” Miles joked, “and he wants you to spoil him as well.”

“Cats are pretty smart. Ah!” Phoenix reached for another tissue, squeezing his eyes shut as he blew more heavily than the last time. “Guess I wasn’t done.” He laughed, dabbing the corners of his eyes. “But yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I hope he’ll like me as much as he likes you.” Miles reached to pet Buster and was shocked to hear the loud purrs the cat made. Buster was so soft, Miles thought he could pet him forever; there weren’t even any claws out. “He’s actually letting me pet him.”

“I told you so.” Phoenix sniffed. “Buster is really friendly. My parents have had him for almost as long as we had Doily. She’s my favorite. I’d show her to you but she’s probably asleep right now.” He pressed the back of his wrist against his right eye, putting on some pressure as he rubbed absentmindedly. Dropping his hand revealed the area around his eyelid to be a tad pink.

“Are you tired from the trip, love?” Miles removed his hand from petting Buster to caress Phoenix’s cheek. “Maybe you should lie down for a while.”

“Yeah, I usually do that when I visit mom alone, actually.” Phoenix gently picked Buster up to gently place on Miles’s lap, laughing softly as he watched Miles light up in fascination with Buster’s sociability. He disposed of his tissue before poking his head into the kitchen doorway to find his mother and Trucy taste-testing desserts. “Uh, hey, mom?”

“Yes?” Mrs. Wright looked up from the tray of finger food desserts. Quite a few were already gone, but knowing her, there would be more by the time she brought out her famous pumpkin pie.

“I’m going to lie down for a while. I should be up for dinner, though.” Phoenix directed his attention to his daughter, whose whipped cream decorated cheeks were proof she had her share of the desserts. “And Trucy?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Try not to eat too many sweets or you’ll spoil your appetite.”

“Okay.” Trucy nodded and proceeded to put another small dessert in her mouth.

“Go ahead and get some rest, dear.” Mrs. Wright sighed at the sight of Phoenix’s face. “You do look pretty tired. Your bedroom should be ready, but you might need to convince Doily to let you have some room on your bed.”

“Doily’s always been my sleeping buddy here, so I don’t mind.” Phoenix assured. He made his journey upstairs, sniffling once or twice and noting he needed to blow his nose again. The sight of only two twin sized beds in the guest room was disappointing, but considering Miles was a surprise additional guest, it was more Phoenix’s fault for not allowing his mother more time to make the appropriate accommodations. Maybe he and Miles could alternate between the bed and the living room couch while Trucy kept her bunny themed bed throughout the week of their stay.

As predicted, Doily was sleeping on Phoenix’s pillow and needed just a gentle nudge to let him have somewhere to put his head; not enough to chase her off the bed completely, just enough to make some room.

“Hey, Doily. Did you miss me?” His vision grew slightly blurry and his eyes felt wet. Phoenix didn’t remember yawning, but he must have been really tired. “I could use a nap, too, so I’d like you to… hh… to-- Hh’TTCCHHHhh!” He kept his tongue at the roof of his mouth as if that would quiet the sound. Despite his efforts, he scared Doily off the bed completely. “Ngh… Sorry.” He sniffled with his hand pressed under his nose. Maybe he was coming down with a cold after all.

He slid himself under the blanket, admittedly afraid of how he would be feeling whenever he would wake up. If he was getting sick, maybe it wasn’t completely bad, considering he was staying with his mother. His mom was good at that sort of thing, even long after he moved out on his own.

When the back of his head hit the pillow a deep, aggressive itch attacked the back of his eyes and sinuses. How was he supposed to sleep like this? No matter how hard he pressed, alternating between rubbing his eyes and nose, it only seemed to get worse. Was that his pulse? Behind his eyes?

“A’aschhHUUH! Aa’SSCHHHOOUuh! T’TTCHHuuh!!” He sat up, only just having a moment to get some air before he started again. “T’SHCHUUH!! TT’CHHHOOUH!!”

“Sweetheart, sorry to disturb you, but--” Miles stopped in his tracks at the sight of the state Phoenix was in. “Are you… feeling alright?”

“This has to be the weirdest cold I’ve ever had.” Phoenix squinted as he sniffled thickly. “I just wedt to lie dowd ahd-- Hh’TTTCHHOOH! I cad’t stop sdeezi’g.”

“I see.” Miles kept his mouth shut regarding how this was the exact sort of thing he’d tell Phoenix to make him flustered. He did, however, thought it would be amusing to see Phoenix’s face when offered a handkerchief. “Here, you could use this.” Phoenix didn’t look flustered at all, simply desperate as he took the handkerchief and sneezed thrice into it. What a shame. “You were fine when we left home.”

“That’s what’s so weird about it!” Phoenix aggressively rubbed at his face. “Dot to bedtiod everythi’g itches.”

“That doesn’t sound like a cold, love.” Miles wiped some of the tears from Phoenix’s face with his thumb.

“I feel pretty sick.” Phoenix muttered before blowing his nose again, unsure why he was even bothering at this point.

“I imagine you do.” Miles kissed Phoenix’s very wet cheek. “Poor thing. Do you have any ideas on what’s making you feel so bad?”

“Nope.” Phoenix shook his head. “I kinda just started a little bit when we got here and-- Aa’SSHHOOUH! T’TSSCHHOOUHh!! *snf* I can’t stop since I came upstairs.”

“Maybe you’ve developed an allergy to cats?”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Phoenix scolded, taking offense. “They’re my family!”

“I’m not joking. It’s a genuine possibility.” Miles made a small gasp and looked at his hand. “I touched your face after petting one of them, too. I’m so sorry.”

"Don't be sorry because I'm not allergic to cats." Phoenix huffed. He pushed the blanket off his lap and stood up, not wanting to discuss the topic further. “I’m going back downstairs.”

“Alright.” There was no point in arguing. If Phoenix was going to be so stubborn about this, then Miles just needed to make the best of the situation.

Miles followed Phoenix down the stairs, briefly interrupted when Phoenix needed to stop halfway so he could sneeze again.

“Bless you, sweetheart.” He thought saying that might push the envelope a little.

“Are you baki’g fud of be?” Phoenix glared at him through red, damp eyes.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Miles answered sincerely. “You just sound so awful.” Okay, maybe he was having a little fun, nudging Phoenix to hopefully see the amusing irony of his circumstances.

Phoenix grumbled something as he dragged himself to the kitchen, clearly still annoyed with Miles for what he had said earlier.

“I thought you were napping, Daddy.” Trucy looked up from a tall glass of chocolate milk. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“He couldn’t get any sleep, from what I can tell.” Miles leaned against Phoenix’s shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure I’m getting sick.” Phoenix scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, I knew you’d catch a cold standing out there without a scarf.” Mrs. Wright gently pushed Phoenix on the way to the living room. “Rest on the couch and I’ll get you some blankets.”

“I told you, it’s just a cold, really.” Phoenix made eye contact with Miles the whole time as he blew his nose with a fresh tissue.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Miles lied and kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head. “I certainly hope you’ll feel well enough to join us for dinner on Thursday.”

“Of course I will.” Phoenix insisted just before Mrs. Wright draped a large blanket over him. While Phoenix thought nothing of it and the intense itch that followed, Miles needed to hold his tongue as he watched short hairs floating around in Phoenix’s general direction. “T-Thanks.” He stuttered as he fanned his face with his hands, truly a sight Miles wished he could comment on with honesty. “Aa’IIISHHHUUH! T’TCHHUUh!! Ugh. Ow.”

“Your poor nose.” Miles cooed. “It must be so tiring, sneezing like that.”

“It is.” Phoenix furiously rubbed at his eyes. “Agh, my eyes, too.”

“They’re really bothering you, aren’t they?” Miles played up his sincere concern. “Driving you crazy, I bet.” He dropped a hint, hoping that extra pink in Phoenix’s face wasn’t just more released histamine. In the corner of his eye was Doily, who was staring intently at Phoenix. “Hey, little one.” Miles leaned over to pet the cat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here like that.” He whispered, not wanting to further offend Phoenix.

Doily, being hardly fluent in human suggestion, hopped onto Phoenix’s lap anyway.

“Doily, did you come to check up on me?” Phoenix could hardly keep his smile in place before he started sneezing again. “Gh… Sorry, Doily.” He scratched behind Doily’s ears; the sound of his sniffling accompanied her purring.

“Um, sweetheart?”

“I know what you’re about to say, and I still say no.” Phoenix pet Doily with both hands, almost out of spite.

“No, that’s not exactly--”

“Daddy! You found Doily!” Trucy stared at Phoenix and the purring cat for a while. “What’s wrong with your arms, Daddy?” Miles took hold of Phoenix’s right arm.

“Hey! You’ll scare her away again!” Phoenix protested, not even paying attention to what Miles was doing. Just as he warned, Doily was startled by the sudden movement and ran off somewhere else in the house.

“Hives.” Miles observed bluntly. “Trucy, dear, could you ask your grandmother to find some benadryl?” Phoenix raised no objections to that, which Miles hardly minded at all.

“Okay, Papa Miles!” Trucy ran off to find Mrs. Wright, leaving Phoenix and Miles alone to hopefully reach an agreement.

“Well, what happens now?” Phoenix looked down. “Do I just never visit my parents again?” Was that his way of saying Miles was right?

“Of course not, love.” Miles massaged the blotchy areas of Phoenix’s arm. “You’ll just need to be more careful, which you’ve been failing to do a lot lately. Feels like everyday I need to pull you out of trouble.”

“I can’t eat mom’s cooking if I’m asleep, though.” Phoenix let his head hit the soft back of the couch.

“Then we’ll pick up something non-drowsy while you’re resting this evening.” Miles made it sound so easy. In fact, everything he had been saying recently sounded just so… so… Oh.

“You’ve been talking like this on purpose.” Phoenix accused, punctuated by a thick sniffle. There was that flush Miles was looking for. “Is that what I sound like?” He hid his face behind his hands.

“I took some creative license.” Miles smirked before kissing Phoenix’s cheek. “I was starting to get worried when you said you ‘couldn’t stop sneezing’ with a straight face.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And miss out on all this fun? I think not.”

“So is this all-- T’TCHHHOOH!” Phoenix pressed his hand under his nose, giving his voice even more of a nasal quality. “It’s all just payback, huh?”

“Not quite.” Miles held Phoenix’s free hand with both his hands. “You always make me feel so attractive even when I’m looking like you do right now.”

“That’s because you can pull it off.” Phoenix finally managed to chuckle.

“And so can you.” Miles didn’t let Phoenix protest that, shushing him with an index finger pressed to his lips. “I may not know one hundred percent how you see me, but I’d like you to feel every bit as special.”

“Miles!” Aha! Now Phoenix was very red in the face. Mission successful, if Miles said so himself. “Maybe when I don’t hear my mom’s footsteps coming down the stairs.”

#sneezing #snez #snz #sneeze kink #snez attorney #my fics #my writing #this took 5 million years but here you guys go

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youllallriseintheink · 4 years

Text

Breaking the Timeloop, chapter 1: Henry, this is Henry

Thanks for showing support for this, guys. I hope you like it. The first chapter mostly outlines the “laws” of this fic’s universe, which are based on popular Reddit theories of the time. They’re outdated now, but made for a nice story.

---

Henry Stein stepped into Joey Drew Studios, apprehensive as to what he might find. Returning to the studio had seemed like such a small favor to make his ex-business partner and old friend happy. Joey Drew had seemed so remorseful, and so much calmer and kinder than he had been back then. Still, as soon as Henry was staring down the studio's halls, lifeless and decaying but otherwise unchanged, he was reminded of the time he'd spent working in them. In those years, Joey Drew had shown an ugly, selfish, twisted side of himself to Henry. One that Henry had all but forgotten about. Who knew what he'd wanted from having Henry return?

With a start, Henry realized that he was holding two objects in his hand, neither of which he recalled bringing in: a strange, hand-mirror shaped instrument, and a book with the words, READ IMMEDIATELY written large in ink over the entire expanse of the cover. Henry obeyed the text.

Henry? This is Henry. This'll come as a surprise, but you're stuck in a time loop, buddy. You seem to lose your memory every few loops. After a few hundred loops, though, I figured that out and started this journal. This way, you can learn from my mistakes and hopefully have a better chance of getting out of here.

I don't know why I'm here. That makes it pretty difficult to guess what needs to be done to get out. My best guess is that Joey Drew put me in this time loop so that I could fix his mess. Keep your eyes out for any indication that this is not the case, but for now, focus on trying to save as many people as possible.

Follow these rules:

1. Write down anything significant you learn. If you end up in Joey Drew's apartment, write everything you need to down, because it'll be your last chance to do so before a new loop begins.

2. Don't be afraid to die. This time loop effectively makes you immortal. Take risks to experiment.

3. Protect this book at all costs. When Joey Drew sends you back into the studio at the end of a loop, transfer it and the seeing tool to your right hand to ensure it will be preserved.

The next page contains a table of contents. This page contains a list of the creatures you'll encounter. Please read it.

Ink creatures in general

Each ink creature was either made with a soul, or took on an imprint. The ones with souls hold the memories of the people they once were. I'll start with the ones with souls.

Sammy Lawrence

Yeah, that Sammy Lawrence. Sorry, bud, but you had to learn sometime that Joey created a real tragedy. Sammy isn't your chipper, if easily annoyed old friend anymore. He's an ink-covered loon who worships Bendy (who I'll get to later) to the point where he's willing to use you as a human sacrifice. He mostly lurks in the first basement floor and second to lowest floor of the studio. However, since he worships the ink demon, he can be anywhere instead of hiding away from him as most ink creatures do. Bendy is still malicious to him occasionally, however. He's almost invariably malicious at first, but there are ways of saving him. See pages 34, 52, and 57 for how to befriend him. He's a powerful ally as he runs a cult of lost ones and searchers. Times befriended: 63/584 (since I started counting) Times killed: 311/584

Susie Campbell/Alice Angel (scarred)

Susie Campbell's soul was transferred into an Alice Angel clone. Be extremely careful around her, as she is capricious and has no qualms with murder. She is mostly found on the ninth floor, where she has a fairly significant portion of the studio sealed up to protect herself from the ink demon. She has access to a lot of machinery in there, and can control the elevator to some extent. Don't fall into her web-she has arguably adapted to surviving and protecting herself here better than anyone. She can also be found on level S. Do not use the elevator unless she either hasn't met you, or is dead. Be especially wary of her if you're traveling with a Boris. She kills them to use their organs. For how to befriend her, go to page 78. For ways to kill her, go to pages 7, 12, and 21.

Times befriended: 3/584

Times killed: 105/584

The Projectionist

A mechanical creature containing the soul of Norman Polk. He shows no signs of sapience. I never liked the guy, but he didn't deserve this. He likes dark areas, but he can be found anywhere because he doesn't have the sense to beware the ink demon. You'll know him when you see him, and when you do, run. There are ways to kill him, though: see page 54.

Times befriended: /584

Times killed: 9/584

Bertrum Piedmont

Apparently, after I left the company, Joey tried to make a Bendy-themed amusement park which never got off the ground, and enlisted in this guy's help. They were always at each other's throats, and after they were done doing business together, Joey put his soul in an amusement park ride resting in a storage room for all the other unused Bendyland equipment. You'll know it when you see it. Unfortunately, he always mistakes me for Joey Drew, and that makes him almost impossible to befriend: he thinks it's just Joey being a manipulative liar. You must debilitate him before even attempting to befriend him-there is one very specific way to do so. For how to kill him, see page 4. For how to debilitate and befriend, see page 49.

Times befriended: 69/584

Times killed: 415/584

Lacie Benton and Grant Cohen

By using the seeing tool, I have detected their names on coffins. These same coffins hold the corpses of the others that were killed. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots. At least one of them is a Lost One, it would seem, as at least one Lost One can talk and remembers its name. Lacie worked for Bertrum. She was probably killed because she was suspicious of Bertrum's whereabouts, but that's speculation. Grant Cohen was likely killed so that Joey could keep the company's financial matters secret.

Alright, now onto the soulless creatures. You probably can't save these, but they can still seriously help or hinder your quest.

Butcher Gang Members

Kill on sight. They have no signs of sapience and are invariably malicious. There are many copies of them.

Boris (perfect)

Almost invariably benevolent. The time spent with him (generally in his safehouse on the second basement floor) is like time spent with family. Down here, that kind of moral support is scarce and invaluable. However, he can be a serious liability if you run into the scarred Alice Angel. If that happens, keep him away from her at all costs. If she does get him, well, try to remember that he doesn't really have a soul. Just an imprint, seemingly of Wally Franks (laid-back, goofy, friendly, weak-willed, etc.) Though, that doesn't seem to keep him from feeling a fondness for me, or from feeling pain. I'm sorry Henry, but you're often gonna have to kill your dog. Alice hulks him up and turns him against you. For how to kill, see page 4.

Times befriended: 437/584

Times killed: 239/584

Alice Angel (unscarred)

She lives on the second-to-lowest level of the studio with a Boris clone she calls "Tom." She's generally benevolent. I suggest you recruit her early, as her combat skills can really come in handy, and, as I've mentioned, good company is scarce. When you meet her, show her your seeing tool. She has a tendency of thinking of you as some sort of savior, but she sees the seeing tool as some kind of proof of that. Her imprint could honestly be of anyone, but she's calmer than I ever knew Susie to be and has a rather feminine personality, so I'm going to guess it's Allison Pendle, who was hired to replace Susie as Alice's voice actress. For how to kill her, go to page 63.

Times befriended: 289/584

Times killed: 38/584

"Tom" Boris

Tom is a very distrustful, hardened Boris clone. He is often the main obstacle to befriending Alice. Sometimes, he can even convince her to imprison you. He is very useful in combat and situations involving strength, however. Don't try to befriend him: befriend Alice, and she'll convince him. And whatever you do, don't harm her, or look like you might harm her, in front of him. By his personality, he seems to have the imprint of Thomas Connor.

Times befriended: 260/584

Times killed: 38/584

Lost Ones and Searchers

Can't lie, don't know what these are. Some are malicious, some aren't. At least one can speak, most can't. By the same token, only a couple seem to have their own personality. I don't know if they have souls or not. I just know that when I am engulfed in the ink, I can hear their thoughts. It's like they're simultaneously one voice, and many. Their methods of combat often make them seem like a hive mind.

Bendy

Almost everyone in the studio fears Bendy. He's very powerful: he can teleport using posters, can only be killed or hurt by seeing the end tape of his cartoon (you read that right. See page 3.), and can send any creature back into the inky abyss with a single touch.

Because almost every interaction I have with him includes running away, I have not been able to get a good sense of his personality. However, I've noticed a pattern: he ceases to attack anything after he has killed a creature with a soul. He doesn't go after others without a soul, though he doesn't mind coming close enough to them to melt them into the tendrils of ink that follow him everywhere. I think he wants a soul. Maybe that's why he's after me.

I have not yet made allies with the ink demon. He doesn't seem to take sacrifices of a souled creature- in fact, he reacts with disgust and outrage, injuring (often mortally injuring) the sacrificer before coming after the sacrifice. The only exception I've found is if the person was defending themselves.

This shows me that Bendy has standards for other people but not himself. He uses everyone he can use, and is willing to stomp on and destroy anyone he can't. There's no question in my mind who his imprint is: Joey Drew. Nonetheless, his demonic powers lead me to believe that he might know something about how to save these souls.

Henry stared at the page a long time after he'd finished reading, as though that would change its words. Deep down, though, he knew that three pages of his own handwriting hadn't spontaneously appeared, and he definitely didn't remember writing them. He flipped through it to find that there indeed were over seventy pages to it, all in his own writing. His stomach sank as he realized that this was entirely real. "Oh, Joey, what have you been doing?" he whispered to himself.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #Henry Stein #Ink bendy #ink creatures #joey drew #breaking the time loop

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queen-writing-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Coffee and Cigarettes

Chapter One

This is the little surprise I was talking about, first chapter of my first fic!! Thank you to all of you so, so, so much for 100 followers (I know I’m a bit late, but it took me a minute to finish, so.. shhhh), but thank you all so, so much for sticking along for all of this. I know I haven’t been updating as much recently, but now that this is finished, I’ll be a lot better about it, I promise, I hope you enjoy!!!!!

Staff dating wasn’t against the rules. It was… slightly frowned upon by some of the board members, but it wasn’t against the rules. That hadn’t been an issue for Roger for the three years he had been working there, so he hadn’t thought anything was going to change when the school hired a replacement for the teacher that had taught engineering and wood shop.

Boy had he been wrong.

They wouldn’t normally cross paths. While their classrooms were in similar parts of the building, teachers didn’t tend to wander around the school because, obviously, they were working. That wasn’t how they ended up meeting, though.

No, the very first time Roger met Mr. Deacon was in the break room when he turned around too fast and accidentally hit him with a muffin and almost spilled coffee on him.

What a fantastic, completely Rogeresque way to meet someone.

To his defense, it was before seven o’clock in the morning, nearly an hour before school was due to start, and he’d been up late the night before, grading the last minute summer work that had been submitted to him minutes before the deadline.

Stupid slackers.

Then again, that had been him when he was in high school, so he didn’t really have much room to talk.

And regardless of how little sleep he’d gotten, there he was, bright an early. For all the work and extra hours teachers put in, they didn’t get paid nearly enough, so he in the mornings, his breakfast off of the coffee and assorted, slightly stale breakfast items that resided there.

His slightly stale breakfast item that was now a shower of crumbs coating the shirt of a complete stranger.

“Oh! Oh, I am so sorry, mate, really, I-”

“Oh, no, no, you’re alright. It’s early. Looks like you haven’t had a sip of coffee yet either, so I’ll let it slide this time around.”

As soon as the air around them lightened up a bit and he let himself relax, it struck him how… easy on the eyes this stranger was.

“Ah, right, right, I’ll take my free pass and be more careful next time. I’m Roger Taylor, by the way. I teach biology. Room 137.”

“Oh, alright, hello, Mr. Taylor. I’m John Deacon, I teach engineering and woodshop and… I’m in room…” he dug a piece of paper out of his pocket, “room number 146.”

“Ah, so you’re the new guy that’s replacing old Bernes.”

“Would appear so.”

“Well, I already like you better. He was a creep.”

“Was he, now? Well, I might be a bit biased in saying this, but I don’t believe I’m much of a creep, so I do hope that helps.” He offered a gap toothed smile and Roger felt something unfamiliar bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, you’re already much, much, much better than he is.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They stood there for a moment in silence, sipping their coffee before one of them spoke again.

“So. Where’d you come from. Somewhere… North, I’m thinking?”

“Wow, look at you. Yeah. Up in the midlands, Oadby, actually.”

“Really? And how’s that? Living there, I mean.”

“Dull. Very dull. Very boring. Not a lot of stuff going on up there. I wouldn’t recommend visiting. There isn’t much to do, the people are too nice to not be hiding anything, and most of the hotels have rats.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m going on holiday, ‘cuz that’s something teachers do so often.”

The comment earned him a little laugh and another one of those smiles, and something so simple shouldn’t have made him as happy as it was.

He was man enough to admit that he pretty things, attractive people. He was also man enough to admit that John happened to fall under this column. Which meant he was able to convince himself it was the mild adrenaline rush that came from making an attractive person laugh.

Like when he picked up women -or men, he wasn’t really picky- at bars and made them smile and laugh and blush.

Except for the fact that this was his new coworker, they were in a teacher’s lounge in a high school, and he didn’t have the intention of going home with him. Because that would be entirely unprofessional and he didn’t want to do it either.

Alright, maybe if the setting was different, he might. But that meant alcohol would be involved, as well as a location that was much more likely to foster raw, sexual attraction.

Seven in the morning in a break room in a high school packed with other teachers, crappy coffee, and assorted bread products was neither the time nor the place.

And it seemed that it wasn’t going to be much of an issue, just a passing thought.

Which it was.

For now at least.

Over the course of the following weeks, Roger found himself and John becoming more and more friendly. He’d begun to worm his way into his little friend group, clicking almost instantly with Freddie, and bonding over some science geek stuff with Brian. He fit in like the fourth piece to their puzzle.

It was nice, meeting someone who he worked with that was good for more than discussion on the woes of being a teacher.

Sure, he’d had Brian and Freddie before, but it was nice to have a third friend, and to no longer be the ‘baby’ of the group.

(Normally whenever it was brought up, he was quickly mention the fact that he was twenty-six years old now, but it was quickly dismissed in favor of making fun of him.)

And John, he had come to find, was actually a rather interesting person. He loved music, but he didn’t think he could sing, so he stuck to the instruments. Specifically the stringed sort. He apparently had a bass, an electric, an acoustic, and a rhythm guitar at home, as well as a keyboard. That he offered lessons to bring in some extra money and because it was something he enjoyed doing. That music was a passion of his, and he’d been into it since he was younger, fell in love with the records his father would bring home every once in a blue moon and found that that aspect of his story was similar to Roger’s.

He’d learned that he’d been a tinkerer ever since he could hold a screw driver. Making magic out of scraps by age ten, which could have been a profession on it’s own, but he’d fallen in love with teaching and had gotten his masters in that after getting his bachelor of science in electronics. That he was still a tinkerer and he would buy bits and pieces of this and that when his budget allowed to make little things and that he had never once called a repairman because he’d always been able to fix the issue himself. How he would fix neighbors broken down appliances for free just because he wanted to. He’d even offered to come look at Roger’s busted air conditioning unit sometime.

That he had a sister named Julie, that she was seventeen and was preparing for her A levels, that she was very bright and that he was a very proud big brother. That he was a mama’s boy, spoke to her every other day on the phone. That when he was growing up, he’d taken over the typical ‘man of the house’ role since his father passed when he was young, that he didn’t get all sad and weepy when talking about his dad, just got a nostalgic, fond look in his eyes. That he’d just gotten a puppy named Eleanor and a ferret named Robert. An odd combination, Roger thought, but who was he to judge when all he had were a few fish.

Needless to say, he’d learned a lot about him in the short span of time they’d known each other in and he found him to be rather intriguing.

They’d slowly become the sort of teachers that bothered each other during prep periods. John would come bug him when he was doing notes and Roger would throw popcorn at him when he was trying to teach. It was nice, he thought.

Roger had finally given in to John’s offers and invited him over to have a look at the air conditioner. It was much cheaper than calling an electrician and John had insisted he didn’t mind, so he’d decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with keeping all his windows open and using a fan in its place. He was becoming a baked potato in his own home.

When John had gotten there, they’d exchanged pleasantries before Roger had led him to the source of irritation and he’d gone straight to work.

The conversation kept up while John.. well, Roger wasn’t quite sure what it was he was doing, actually, but.. That was besides the point. He was fixing the stupid AC unit for him and now Roger wouldn’t die of heatstroke or something stupid like that.

He’d take a break every once in a while to have a drink and wipe the sweat off his forehead before diving back into his work. It was a nice almost silence they lapsed into, with an occasional joke, or comment, or John asking Roger to grab him a drink if he wouldn’t mind. It was certainly much better than the awkward work around that would be involved with a repairman and not nearly as expensive either.

It took a little while, but eventually Roger heard the familiar whir of the air conditioning unit kicking on.

“You’re a miracle worker, Deaks!”

“Ah, nah… just a fan that fell loose and some mixed up wires, is all. Nothing, really.”

“I could kiss you.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Think I’ll pass.”

“How can I repay you?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well.. I can at least buy you dinner.”

“Well…”

“I’ll get takeaway and you and I can watch a movie.”

“Yeah. alright. Fine.”

“What catches your fancy tonight, Sir Deacon?”

“Sir?” He cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Just go with it.”

“Alright, well.. How does Chinese sound?”

“His highness shall be dining on the finest Asian cuisine tonight.”

“The finest, huh?”

“Or the cheapest.”

“Perfect.”

Roger ended up calling in to order the takeout and decided to let John find something for them to watch. He was mildly surprised when he plopped down on the couch and the TV was playing the opening credits to Peter Pan.

“A Disney man, huh?”

“Shut up. They’re good movies, believe it or not.”

“Okay, okay, okay, I won’t make fun of you. It just… you don’t seem the type.”

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

“Touché.”

“I am not often what meets the eye.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

“Good.”

John ended up staying much later than Roger had thought he would. By the time he checked the clock, it was already half past ten. He opted not to say anything about it, though, because he did rather like John’s company. He had a good sense of humor and he liked to point out the flaws of and make fun of poorly made movies which Roger had discovered when they’d come across some old movie that seemed like it had a budget of forty dollars.

By now, though, they’d lulled into a comfortable silence like it had been before, only interjected by an occasional joke or comment.

By the time they got to the end of that movie, it was even later. Obviously. Because that’s how the flow of time worked. But it was late enough that Roger was tired, and by the looks of it, so was his company.

“I should get going.” He stretched his arms above his head. “Work tomorrow and all.”

“Stay.”

“Are you sure that’s-”

“I mean, here. Like… on the couch. It’s late, you’re tired, you shouldn’t be driving. We can carpool tomorrow.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“You can borrow something of mine.”

“I don’t have a toothbrush or anything. I don’t think I’ll be borrowing that from you.”

“I’ve got an extra in the cupboard.”

John gave him a skeptical look and for a minute Roger was worried he was going to say no.

“Yeah, alright, fine.”

“Great. I’ll grab you a pillow, the blankets are next to the couch.” He gestured in the general direction they were in before going off to get a pillow from his bed.

John was doing something on his phone when he got back, presumably texting his neighbor, asking her to keep the dog overnight, something he’d heard him mumbling to himself about when he was walking away.

“Oi. Watch that,” He grumbled, setting the pillow down at the edge of the bed.

“I remind you that you are a guest here and I can kick you out at any moment.”

“Fine.” He plopped down on the couch, tugging the blanket over himself and folding up his knees to fit onto the couch.

“Goodnight, Mr. Deacon.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Taylor.”

When Roger got up at three in the morning to get a glass of water, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the body draped across his couch before remembering it was just John. As he was pouring his glass of water, he took note that when John wasn’t all curled into a ball, he was much too tall for the couch. Part of his legs hung over the edge of the couch, all the way up to his knees, and an arm was dangling over the side of the couch and he’d miraculously knocked the blanket off and into the middle of the room.

Without much thought, he bent down to scoop the blanket up and draped it over John, who made a soft, sleepy noise in response.

The… domestic nature of it all made something warm and fuzzy climb up his rib cage and wrap around his heart which startled him more than the thought of a stranger in his flat. He pushed them down quickly, going back to bed and leaving the untouched glass of water on the coffee table where he’d set it down earlier.

The next morning, Roger learned that you got places much faster when you used the carpool lane, and that John fancied cars nearly as much as he did,complaining about some of nicer cars that weren’t taken care of well as they took turns naming models and makes of the cars on the road.

(Which I will not be doing because while I am all for researching for things, I do not understand much about cars at all, and… yeah. No thank you. Sorry).

When they got to school together, Brian happened to be coming into the building as well, offering a raised eyebrow in regards to the fact that they’d obviously come to school together and the shirt John was wearing was one Roger had been wearing on Friday.

When they got into the break room, John went to get coffee and Brian cornered him.

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s wearing your clothes, Rog, and you carpooled.”

“I did not sleep with him. He came over to fix my air conditioner, stayed over too late and I let him sleep on the couch.”

“That’s all?”

“Jesus, Bri. I’m not stupid, that would be a bad idea, even I know that.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

When John got back, he couldn’t help but think he certainly wouldn’t have minded if that happened.

And, yeah. Maybe he was a bit screwed.

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the-silverforked-sky · 7 years

Text

Sometimes We Both Lose Our Minds (to find the better road)- Olicity Fic

Pairing: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak

Rating: T Words: 3400 Summary: Returning back to his old life in Starling City, Oliver had anticipated and planned for many things. Carrying out the mission his father had bestowed on him, falling back into his old irresponsible persona, hiding his true self from his family and friends, and protecting them at all costs. The one thing he hadn’t planned on was gaining 2 new family members, his stepfather Walter Steele and Felicity Smoak, his childhood friend, now also his stepsister. Regardless of the changes and surprises, he knows he has to become someone… something else to make those on his father’s List pay for their crimes.

Chapter Summary: Felicity attends Oliver’s Welcome Home party and the two finally have a chance to catch up. A/N: Hiii... So it’s been super long since I posted the first chapter and then left you all hanging. I feel so terrible about it, but the past 2 semesters have been crazy hectic. But hopefully this chapter partially makes up for it. Now that I’m off, I hope to have a more consistent update schedule. I’m so excited about this verse and have so many ideas I want to share, so I hope you’ll stick around.

Thanks a lot to @nvwhovian who's been fielding all my crazy and paranoia as I worked up to posting this chapter. And to her and @beinmyheart for editing this chapter!! As mentioned in the summary, Oliver and Felicity are kinda step-siblings, if that is a thing that you’re not comfortable with, you should back out now. If you’re staying and giving it a try anyway, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this verse and journey. If anyone would be interested in sending prompts for this verse or being tagged in updates, please drop me a line.

Title is from The Poison by The All-American Rejects and the chapter title is from Never Let Me Go by Florence & the machine

You can also read the chapter on AO3 or other installments

Reflections still look the same to me (as before I went under)

She’s standing at the bar at Oliver’s Welcome Home Bash waiting for the barkeep to notice and maybe serve her. Tommy needs to hire better bartenders for his parties, what is the point of free-flowing alcohol if you’re not even served? That makes her sound like she’s an alcoholic or something, she’s not for the record. It’s just that being sober around so many drunk people is giving her a headache, and maybe she just needs a drink to take the edge off.

There’s been way too many changes and surprises over the last few days. Not that they’ve been bad ones per se, they’re actually good. Happy even. Oliver is alive. That is amazing, and it makes so many people she cares about incredibly happy, including her. But changes need adjustments and that is pretty stressful. She’s just glad she isn’t living in the Queen Mansion. In the past few years she’s started to feel weird and out of place there, being in that house makes her jittery. With Oliver suddenly back, there’s a tension that hangs over the entire household that she would rather avoid. And with her propensity to babble about inappropriate things, she would probably just end up making things even more awkward.

Then there’s also the fact that she and Oliver are now bound by family… or something. For all intents and purposes, Oliver is her step-brother now. Which is incomprehensible to her. She knew this would be the case since her dad married Moira, she’d even readily accepted Thea as her new step-sister. But it was different when thinking about Oliver. All these years, it had been a vague idea, a ‘what if’ hinging on Oliver being alive. But now he is alive and this new relation between them is making things all messy in her head. Since she had met him, he’d always been her friend; she’d never really thought of him as a brotherly figure. For a brief period of time, she’d even had a tiny crush on him- having the attention of two of the most notorious heartbreakers in Starling City will do that to a girl. She’d grown out of it, obviously, but that doesn’t mean it lessens the complication in any way.

A sudden din falls over the crowd and she looks up to see that Oliver’s entrance has commanded their attention. She observes him as Tommy introduces him and he raises a ridiculous toast to tequila (of all things). She watches as he feeds the public what they want, having them eating out of his palm, perfectly playing up the devil-may-care attitude Ollie Queen was known for. She wonders if he’s putting up a front, playing up what he thinks people want to see, even after he’s spent five years isolated. Or if he’s actually not changed a bit. If it’s the former, he’s still not able to completely hide the things he doesn’t want others to see. It’s given away more by what’s missing than what is there. Those expressive blue eyes, that could make anyone he paid attention to feel like the centre of the universe, are vacant now- as though they’ve been purposely kept so. She’s sure the others have noticed too, but they’re so distracted by acting as if no time has passed at all, that they just accept his unbothered act and overall okay-ness. It’s not that she wants him to be damaged or have difficulty coping but it just seems off to her. You don’t spend five years isolated from civilization, without it leaving some mark or changing you in some way. She feels they need to be prepared for it, prepared to help Oliver in whatever way they can, instead of just ignoring it till it goes away. But then again, she’s never quite settled into the elite’s mentality of brushing things under the carpet, she’s not made for hiding from the truth.

That’s not the only thing she has noticed either. Because she’s definitely not missed that delicious looking scruff or the shorter hair which looks so much better than the weird serial killer hair he had before. And don’t even get her started on the way his suit highlights his very wide and muscular shoulders and biceps. He was cute before but now he’s devastatingly handsome and this is why she’s keeping her distance. She’s already practically drooling over him, how is she supposed to conduct a conversation with him where they address their new status as family.

She watches as his eyes scan through the room and the crowd, catching on hers with some surprise. She wonders why. Sure she doesn’t really fit in with this crowd consisting of mainly fangirls, but she’s here to support her close friends. She doesn’t doubt her connection with Tommy, they’ve become closer and built that friendship back up since she returned home. Where Oliver is concerned though, she’s unsure about what kind of reception she would get. They’d definitely drifted apart a bit, for a couple of years before he left on that fateful trip, but it seemed natural given that the boys were venturing out to various colleges while she’d been focused on graduating early from high school and getting into MIT. But they’d kept in touch regularly enough that she hadn’t ever thought it would affect their long-term friendship. Five years, on the other hand, was a whole different can of worms. Especially given that Oliver didn’t seem all too thrilled with welcoming her dad, and probably by extension her, into the family. She breaks their eye contact then, the thought that Oliver may refuse their friendship is painful and she isn’t ready to expose that that vulnerability to anyone.

As she cranes her head looking for someone who can fix her a drink, she hears a voice close to her ear, “Hi Felicity, need me to buy you a drink?” She startles, turning around to come eye to chest level with Oliver himself.

“Oliver,” and her voice comes out sounding breathy, she needs to make it stop sounding like that. It’s just Oliver, and he’s teasing her just like he would years ago when they would talk and banter and be uncomplicated friends. No big deal. She looks up to meet his eyes, seeing a hint of amusement and fondness that gets past the shadows in them. “Haha, I can buy myself a drink now, with my real ID too. Also it’s an open bar.”

His lips lift into a small smile, minuscule really in comparison to the toothy dimpled smiles and laughter she’s seen on him, but there all the same. More than that though, it lightens his eyes and manages to put some of her uncertainties to rest, which makes it all the better. “Guess you don’t need me and Tommy to supply you with fake IDs anymore. Shame, I’d got a new set I was gonna gift you for getting through finals. Really creative names too.” She narrows her eyes at him and he chuckles, his eyes and voice softening even more, “it’s good to see you again Felicity.” He extends his arms a little, it’s such an awkward gesture but very clear in its intention. So she pushes herself into him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms tighten around her back and she melts into him, nostalgia and an incredible amount of joy rushing into her as she revels in the feeling of him being alive and home.

“It’s so good to have you back Oliver. I’ve missed you a lot,” she mumbles into his neck.

She’s not even sure if he heard her but then he murmurs back, “me too.”

She separates from him then, looking anywhere but at him. She feels self-conscious like they’ve already lingered a little too long for a hug between friends, even long lost ones. His heavy gaze doesn’t help all that much either. Then she remembers the events of this morning and her concern can’t be contained. “Are you okay? My dad told me about the kidnapping.”

“I’m alright, really. Not even a scratch, we were found in time, I guess,” his response sounds so practiced, it immediately draws her curiosity but before she can say or ask anything about it, he continues, “so I guess a ‘welcome to the family’ is in order?” And really? That’s what he wants to break the tension with?

His tone sets her on edge too, it sounds pleasant enough and he’s delivering it with a perfectly charming smile, but there’s something cutting about it. She looks at him sharply, the indignation from last night, at his rude remark to her dad during the family dinner, returning. Realizing his mother was remarried was probably a shock, no one would really want to think about how their family may have moved on in their absence. And obviously Moira’s misguided attempt to ease Oliver into the situation by hiding the truth about her new marriage didn’t help much either. But he was downright rude to her father and she won’t stand for that.

“It would seem so. Though my dad is really the one it should be directed to. And try being a little more genuine that time?”

As soon as she says it she knows she hit the mark but not in a good way, he looks stung by her snarkiness. And really she didn’t mean to be sassy or nasty about it but she’s also not interested in pulling punches on the matter. Her father means the world to her and Oliver can be shocked at the news, find it difficult to digest and adjust but he cannot disrespect her dad. Nonetheless she softens her tone as she says, “You're not being very fair to him.”

“Felicity,” he begins, “it’s my mom and also Thea… they’re too important and I wasn’t prepared. I’m still not. I didn’t expect…” he trails off seeming to not know how to continue.

“Didn’t expect is probably an understatement,” she scoffs, trying to lighten the moment. She gets where he's coming from, they’re both just trying to protect their respective parents.

“Oliver, I understand,” she continues and then modifies, “kind of, some of it, because your experience has been very different and I can’t know everything you’ve been through. But I do understand a certain aspect of it. Seeing your mom with someone new, seeing her move on, that was probably not the easiest pill to swallow. I felt that too,” She tries to hide how she still gets a little choked up thinking about her adoptive mother, “even though it’s been years since Alicia passed away.”

She meets his sharp gaze again to make sure that she’s not completely messing all of this up. He looks a bit more receptive to what she’s saying, so she takes it as a win and continues with as much earnestness as she can, “But something between my dad and Moira just clicked. They helped each other through their pain and they love each other so much. He’s good to her Oliver, to both her and Thea. He loves them so much. And Moira, she makes him happy, happy in a way that I didn’t think I’d see him again. You just need to give him a chance.”

All of it seems to hit him hard, but he doesn’t look away from her. He nods his head with a “I’ll try.” Not exactly what she was hoping for but an immediate resolution does seem unrealistic. She’s made her point though and he heard her out. That’s the best she can do right now. He seems to be studying her as intently as she is studying him, some of it feels awfully calculating even though he’s trying to hide it behind nonchalance.

Suddenly she feels a body bumping into her, causing her to lose her balance and stumble right into Oliver. And woah, she completely forgot where they were. This was so not an appropriate place to have such a serious and private conversation. Oliver is holding onto her elbows and her hands are pressed onto his chest from where she tried to catch herself. A very firm chest that feels ridiculously good under her hands and boy does she need to back out of his personal space. Were they really standing that close throughout their conversation?

She's just starting to back away when Tommy makes his appearance. From the look on his face, he’s apparently got some interesting ideas to get himself and Oliver in trouble running through his mind, and thankfully doesn’t notice the odd tension hanging over her and Oliver. His first sentence just proves that, “There you are! Now by my rough estimate you have not had sex in 1,839 days”

She wrinkles her nose as she looks from Tommy to Oliver and back to Tommy, “I don’t think I needed that information. And did you actually calculate that?”

“Felicity!!” He exclaims, pulling her into a tight hug as if he hadn’t just seen her last night. “Well, no wonder you ran off, I would prefer her company over mine too,” he directs to Oliver as he winks at her. “Of course I calculated it. And I needed to get that number out before I forgot because that is a loooong time. This poor guy had a dry spell of a lifetime, haven’t you buddy? But we’re going to remedy that and as your wingman, I highly recommend Carmen Golden,” with that he turns Oliver by the shoulders to face another large crowd of women.

Oliver looks understandably confused as he asks, “Which one is she?” with a tinge of amusement in his voice like he’s just humoring Tommy.

“The one who looks like the chick from Twilight,” Tommy replies very promptly.

“What's Twilight?”

“You're so better off not knowing.” The grimace on Tommy’s face and the way he winces, immediately makes her laugh. He really would know, considering he’d been forced to watch all four parts multiple times, including braving premieres, long lines and high-pitched tweens. She’d like to say she doesn’t fold as easily as Tommy does when it comes to Thea, but really that would be such a lie.

Speaking of whom, she spots Thea and a couple of her “friends”, her good mood vanishing almost instantly. The guy Thea is speaking to may be a new one, but it doesn’t mean that Felicity isn’t aware exactly who he is, or rather what he’s able to supply. She must’ve shown some kind of reaction because she feels both Oliver and Tommy glance at her and then follow her gaze right to Thea. Where she is now exchanging her money for drugs, in what she seriously hopes Thea doesn’t consider an inconspicuous manner. Because she’s being quite obvious. Oliver’s focus just seems to narrow down onto Thea and he barely excuses himself before he’s off. Felicity meets Tommy’s eyes, and he seems to share her thoughts that this situation is not going to go down well at all. Beneath it though, lurks a deep regret and guilt that mirrors hers. The sense of failure that they couldn’t prevent or pull Thea back from this path. That at all of fifteen she’d felt so alone in the world that she’d gotten hooked onto drugs and partying as an escape. She also sees the question in his eyes, if they should interrupt and try to diffuse the situation before it gets bad. She knows though that if anyone has to insert themselves between the siblings, it’s got to be her. Whatever trapped feeling Thea is experiencing will only get worse if she’s confronted by both Oliver and Tommy. She puts a hand on Tommy’s arm to reassure him, before she makes a beeline towards Oliver and Thea.

She quickens her footsteps as she sees Thea breaking out the attitude, when Thea gets into this kind of mood, she’s usually only one wrong word away from tipping over the edge. As she gets closer, she realizes that Oliver has managed to find that tripwire. The pain in Thea’s voice as she tells Oliver that she spent five years thinking he was dead, that the last five years are permanently within her, strike her so hard. It makes her throat tighten and stomach twist up. And she can tell from the way Oliver looks away, that it hits him much harder. Felicity curses herself for not anticipating and misjudging how Oliver’s return is going to affect Thea, for not seeing that Thea too won’t be able to just brush the last five years away like they didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry if I turned out to be some major disappointment,” she keeps going.

But no, she’s not. And those words slip out of Felicity’s mouth, “Thea, no,” before she even realizes. It draws both the siblings’ attention to her, and to the fact that she obviously overheard most of the conversation. But her focus is on Thea, who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. The way her mouth curls up, slightly cruelly and looking so out of place on her face, Felicity knows that she’s found her parting escape line and that it’s going to hurt. She’s not sure if it’s going to be aimed at Oliver or her, or both of them, but she braces herself for it anyway.

“Ollie, you can’t come back here and judge me, especially for being just like you. And now that we have the perfect sibling,” she gestures towards Felicity, “there’s no pressure on either of us. We’re free to screw up however we like.”

And wow, yeah that stings. She knows that her dad and Moira were pleased with her interest in the company, and that they’d pinned their hopes on her leading QC once they’d be ready to retire. Though she felt the weight of those expectations, she’s tried her best to thrive under the pressure and make them proud. She can barely admit it to herself, but part of it has been the need for validation and attention from her father, while he’d been busy with his new wife and new job, as a reminder that she won’t be forgotten. If she makes them see her, and realize her value, then maybe she won’t be left behind. She never realized that someone else could’ve picked up on it, or that it would be so effective when used against her. Thea directing her friends to “Let’s bounce,” pulls her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she notes that Thea won’t even look at her or Oliver. That more than anything, sets her in motion. If she doesn’t do something to fix this now, forgive Thea for lashing out, then it’s going to turn into a spiral of guilt and avoidance that’s going to turn into more emotional suppression and anger later. And if she can get to Thea and pull her away before she gets high, then Felicity is going to consider it a win for the night.

Oliver’s soft call of her name, makes her pause. She turns to him, his face is shuttering off but she still catches a glimpse of sorrow and an apology. “I’m going to go talk to her,” she says as she points in the vague direction Thea headed in.

She takes in a breath then, “I know you have questions and things to say, and a lot of those answers you’re going to hate. I’d say give her time, but I don’t even know if that will work to be honest.”

She rises up on her toes, holding onto Oliver’s elbow, as she places a light kiss on his cheek. He stiffens a little, obviously not expecting the contact or closeness. She doesn’t even know why she did it. She’d missed him a lot, it feels like nothing short of a miracle to get one of her closest friends back, and she needs to convey her affection and happiness to him. And really, a little cheek kiss is not so different from their previous hug, it’s what friends or step-siblings do. It just shows that they’re comfortable with each other, and that their relationship is so very platonic. And in line with those thoughts, she completely refuses to acknowledge how her lips still tingle or how her heart skipped a beat for some reason.

Tagging: @nvwhovian @beinmyheart @felicityschattycathy @callistawolf @coal000 @myhauntedblacksoul @tdgal1 @cessink @nina2406

#olicity fic #olicity au #oliver x felicity #olicity fanfiction #olicity fanfic #oliver queen #felicity smoak #thea queen #tommy merlyn #arrow au #arrow fic #alternate history #alternate universe #'verse: awkward stepsiblings #my fic #alternate universe: childhood friends #walter adopted felicity

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theaksarben · 7 years

Text

Left Behind, Chapter One

I don’t normally write fanfiction, but here’s an attempt at what I hope will be a much larger story. It was brought on mainly by rewatching Operation Z.E.R.O. and looking at AU fanart for C:KND. So in the end, I decided to throw my collander-helmet into the ring. It’s an AU fic that takes place fairly early in the main series timeline, but takes several creative liberties. Without giving away too much, the Delightful Children From Down The Lane as you know them are absent from this universe.

Fanfiction.net link:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12399557/1/Left-Behind

Characters: Monty Uno, Numbuh One (A.K.A. Nigel Uno), Numbuh 5 (A.K.A. Abigail Lincoln), Benedict Uno

Set: Pre-Series timeline /AU.

Summary: When the members of Sector V all go missing under mysterious circumstances, it is the families that take it the hardest. Monty Uno finds himself reflecting on the events that led to this tragedy.

“What happened, Nigel-Old-Bean? I was only trying to be your friend…” Monty Uno looked down at the floor as he sat down in what was once his son’s bedroom. He would often do so in his spare time when he wasn’t occupied with his job as a band director at one of the local schools. He read the “Do’s and Don'ts” section of the newspaper religiously, he’d take Nigel out fishing with him, he’d done everything is his power to try and be a better father to Nigel than Pappy was with him. Monty wondered if it had something to do with the incident that happened with Nigel not long ago. He thought back to that very day.

It was an ordinary afternoon. Monty was in the music room directing his students when he received a phone call from the hospital. Dr. Lincoln told him that Nigel was there, and that was all he needed to hear. In a hurry, he quickly dismissed his students and drove straight for the hospital. He found his wife Katherine trying to comfort Dr. Lincoln’s youngest daughter. They were sitting outside the emergency room where Nigel was being operated on. The little girl was bandaged and was shaking terribly. She saw one glance of him and pulled her hat down to cover her eyes.

“I…I…I’m s-s-sorry, Mistah Uno” she sobbed “I tried to help Nigel, b-b-but…” she trailed off and shook again. “Its all my fault” she sniffed and tossed her red hat aside.

“No, no, sweetie, Nigel just had an accident. It wasn’t your fault.” Katherine was trying her hardest to soothe the distressed child and looked up at Monty.

Monty’s heart ached for the little girl; whatever it was that happened to Nigel, he wasn’t going to blame her for it. He kneeled down so he could talk to her at eye level.

“It’s alright,” said Monty “I’m sure you did all you could. You did the right thing bringing Nigel here. I just need to know what happened.” Abby nodded and started to speak.

“Well, I found Nigel, and he was hurt real bad, and…and…” She paused as her mouth suddenly became agape. To Monty it looked like she knew what she wanted to say but something was keeping the words from coming out. Monty was beginning to worry that Abby might need to be hospitalized herself.

“Are you alright dear? Do you need anything?” Abby didn’t speak a word, she just pointed her finger in his direction, shaking. “It’s alright, I’m not upset with you,” he said softly. Abby shook her head furiously and pointed her finger again. Monty was getting nowhere, but he didn’t want to say anything that might upset Abby further. Quickly he changed tactics and put on a smile, and pretended to furrow his eyebrows as if in concentration. “Oh, I know, this is one of those guessing games isn’t it? Oh, don’t tell me…is it something behind me?” he asked. Abby relaxed just a little bit and nodded. She still had a look of terror on her face, but she wasn’t shaking. A ghost of a smile crept across Monty’s face “Now there’s a step in the right direction.” he thought. Now just what or, perhaps who was behind him that was making Abby so uneasy?

He turned around and saw his brother Benedict in his usual dress shirt and suspenders looking at Abby with an annoyed look on his face. Though for a moment, Monty thought he might need his eyes checked. Ben’s eyes seemed to glow like two burning coals behind his spectacles. When Monty blinked, they were their natural blue again. Monty wasn’t sure what it was about his brother that made children so afraid of him. He remembered something similar used to happen with Pappy when he was a boy and figured his brother also had that effect on children. It wasn’t a particularly good explanation, but it was one. There was an awkward silence that felt as if it could be cut with a knife.

“It’s not polite to point, dear.” said Monty as he rose back up to his feet. He turned his attention to the other man. “Hello, Ben. What brings you here?”

Benedict’s annoyed look quickly changed into one of concern.

“Monty, I heard about what happened to Nigel; is he alright?” Monty couldn’t place his finger on it but something wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was that Ben sounded a little too…rehearsed, or maybe it was the fact that Abby was still hiding behind Katherine, but his thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Lincoln came out of the doors.

“Dr. Lincoln do you know if Nigel will be alright?” asked Monty pointedly.

Dr. Richard Lincoln sighed. “Well Monty, it’s a good thing Nigel came here when he did. He’ll probably end up losing his hair, but from what I can tell it could’ve been a lot worse with the bleeding and the scarring and the…awww, you know what Ima’ talking about.” Again, a ghost of a smile crossed Monty’s face. Richard was a good man who always seemed to lift people’s spirits with his upbeat personality. Richard placed a reassuring hand on Monty’s shoulder “He’s gonna be alright.” He turned his attention to Abby, then to her red hat lying on the floor. He picked it up off the floor and placed it back on his daughter’s head. “Nigel will be okay, Abby. Promise you’ll put on a brave face for your Daddy, okay?” His daughter smiled and threw herself into her father’s embrace.

“Katherine, would you mind taking Abby back to your house? I’ll call Cree to walk her home.” Katherine nodded and Monty watched as she led Abby towards the elevator. Abby’s gaze not leaving Benedict who looked back out of the corner of his eye. Monty still couldn’t understand what that was all about.

“Richard, did Abby have anything to say about what happened to Nigel? Abby tried to…” He paused and sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?” He turned his attention Benedict who was lighting his pipe, as if he suddenly became disinterested in what was going on. Now it was Richard’s turn to be annoyed.

“You! No pipes near the emergency room! With the second hand smoke, and the threats to sick patients, and the risk of igniting flammable materials, and the awww, you know what Ima’ talkin’ about!” said Richard, who was making several exasperated hand gestures. Part of Monty was trying not to laugh, while the other part was questioning Ben’s sudden shift in attitude again.

Ben quickly snuffed the flame and feigned surprise “Oh goodness, I do apologize Doctor. With all the excitement I needed something to steady my nerves. I’ll go outside. I hope Nigel gets well again soon.” Ben left and Richard went back into the emergency room, leaving Monty all alone…

“Monty? Monty are you awake?”

Monty opened a sleepy eye. Dr. Lincoln was standing in front of him. Monty looked down at his lap and saw a copy of the newspaper sitting in his lap. Last thing he remembered he picked it up to read in a bid to “steady his nerves”, as Benedict put it. It appeared he had done just that and dozed off through Nigel’s operation.

“Well, I am now. Is it about Nigel?” He yawned.

“As a matter of fact, he’s sleeping right now. I can take you in to see him as long as you don’t make any noises.” replied Dr. Lincoln

Monty agreed, trying to put on a brave face for when he finally saw what had become of his son. The last time he had been this nervous was when Nigel was born. While he couldn’t remember part of his childhood for some strange reason, one thing he always remembered was that Pappy was anything but a good father. Sure, as Pappy’s first born, he received more favor, but Monty didn’t recall having it much better than Ben or the other kids. Sure, Monty did the bookkeeping for his father’s business while Ben and the others were working on the factory floor making tapioca (wait, how did Pappy get away with child labor?) Then there was his birthday cake…oh the cake. So delicious, and Pappy always forced him to eat every last bite himself without allowing him to offer it to Ben or the other children… while they were tied to chairs? “I must’ve been having strange dreams while I was sleeping” thought Monty.

While Monty didn’t have many fond memories of Pappy (hazy though they were), he was nervous at the prospect of becoming a father. If Monty’s scattered memories served, that had been when he picked up his habit of reading the “dos and don'ts” section of the paper. Monty wasn’t entirely sure what made his side of the family so dysfunctional, but now he had a chance to break the cycle.

He’d never forget when the doctor directed him to his wife’s room. There, in his wife’s arms was his newborn son, Nigel. Little Nigel was in his wife’s arms, sleeping softly while wrapped in blankets. He was so serene, so innocent, his skin unbroken, a blank canvas, a story yet to be written…

And a sharp contrast to the boy lying in bed before Monty.

His head and left arm were bandaged, his right arm linked to an IV, his breathing ragged, and the only sound besides being the heart monitor’s beep. Monty pulled up a chair next to the bed and carefully held Nigel’s good hand. Just what had happened to his son that left him like this?

Then Nigel jolted up screaming and caused Monty to recoil. The boy looked around frantically screaming the word “Father” repeatedly before a violent cough cut it short. Monty reached to calm his son down. “It’s alright Nigel, I’m here…I’m here” He gently patted his son on the back as he looked up with tears welling in his eyes.

“W-Where am I?” asked Nigel, trembling.

“You’re in the hospital, Nigel. That nice Dr. Lincoln over there operated on you after Abby brought you in” said Monty gesturing to the man. Nigel calmed down a little, but there was still worry etched into his features

“Where is Abby?”

“She went home with your mother. Abby will be all right, Nigel.” Truthfully, Monty wasn’t so sure about that last part, but he didn’t want to worry his son further. Nigel was still tense.

“What about Cree? The others?”

Monty was puzzled. He knew Cree was Dr. Lincoln’s eldest daughter, but these “others” were unknown to him. Friends from school perhaps? He wasn’t quite sure what they had to do with any of this. Dr. Lincoln perked up.

“Oh, I think they were hanging out with Cree before I called her to pick Abby up. But they should be all right. You on the other hand need your rest. With the sleeping, and the snoring, and the…awww you know what Ima’ talkin’ about!” and gave a good-natured laugh. That left Nigel feeling a little better. As Monty was about to leave, the boy was ready to protest. Monty assured him that he’d be back to visit him again tomorrow with his mother.

It was a slow recovery for Nigel. Abby would frequently stop by the hospital after school to check up on the boy and Monty sometimes found them talking about something called the “Kids Next Door”. Though what that was he didn’t know…maybe it was some kind of special club?

Nigel still didn’t like being left alone, especially in the dark. For him, every shadow was large enough to conceal some sort of boogeyman out to snatch him up. Monty remembered when Katherine brought their son a nightlight. The minute she plugged it into the electrical outlet, it bathed Nigel’s nightstand in a red-orange glow. Nigel still seemed tense when he and his wife left despite the light dispelling the sinister shadows. Then one night when Katherine went to plug in the light again, Nigel insisted that he didn’t need it anymore. Monty was pleased at his son’s recovery.

Then, when Nigel finally left the hospital, his personality changed completely. Monty and Katherine were surprised to hear that Nigel wanted to go to a summer camp like Abby. His reasoning was that after talking with Abby, he realized that he couldn’t hide forever. He’d have to rise up and overcome his problems. “I’m only a kid once, Dad.” Katherine and Monty were skeptical, but agreed.

And so Nigel went to summer camp, keeping in touch with his parents every so often, telling them about how Abby had his back and how he had made friends with Chad Dickson from across the street. For a time, it seemed like Nigel was managing to make something positive come out of his accident.

What followed was a rather bizarre turn of events, and that was putting it lightly. Looking back, it was highly likely that the incident that caused Nigel’s hair loss had something to do with it.

He recalled the first warning sign came at the start of the new school year after a boy named Wallabee Beetles moved in. On the boy’s first day of school, Katherine received a phone call from Gallagher Elementary. Nigel had apparently gotten into a scuffle with a group of kids and was covered in bruises. To hear Nigel resort to violence like that was out of character to Monty. When questioned about it, his son claimed he was trying to protect Wallabee because “the Kids Next Door save kids, it’s our job.” Monty didn’t know what this “Kids Next Door” was, but he could tell Nigel had good intentions. So he was firm with Nigel that he should tell a teacher the next time it happens. He tried not to be too harsh on the boy, and called the Beetles residence to invite the family over for dinner.

The dinner was mostly uneventful; Monty tried to remain attentive to Sydney Beetles and his long-winded stories about his job working for that Fulbright fellow from down the street. After that, Nigel and Wally were playing video games and chatting up about Nigel’s kids-on-the-block-or-whatever-it-was until it was time for desert. Liza Beetles was talking to Katherine about how she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her son play with another child.

Nigel and Wallabee were kindred spirits as far as Monty could tell. Both were kids from foreign countries who felt alone in the world. Perhaps it was fate that they both found each other, much like how it seemed when Nigel himself met Hoagie Gilligan in kindergarten.

Monty himself had also hit it off with Sydney Beatles over their mutual love of “footy”. He was sorry when the family had to leave, but offered the invitation to pop over for a visit whenever they liked. Monty decided that perhaps some good could come out of Nigel’s little club.

Then there was the time Nigel had been invited to Kuki Sanban’s birthday party. Nigel didn’t think too much of it at the time. Kuki was a bubbly little girl and had invited their whole homeroom. But as Monty would later learn from Nigel: most of the other kids wouldn’t give her the time of the day. When Monty brought Nigel with him to the party, he was amazed by how extravagant the whole affair was. Monty wouldn’t admit it, but he and Ben were very much children of “old money”. Whereas Ben would flaunt his wealth in that fancy mansion he lived in down the lane, Monty chose to live a more modest lifestyle. When he talked with Genki Sanban, she spoke with a sad smile how she wanted to give her daughter nothing short of the sun and the moon. She was born into a much lower social class than Monty, and had to work her way to the top as a C.F.O. for a Fortune 500 company.

When Monty looked over to her daughter, it was clear something was amiss. Kuki’s party had everything a child could want: bouncy castles, a large birthday cake, colorful balloons, and all the presents she could ever want. Yet Kuki was sitting all by herself while the other kids were playing. It seemed like there was one thing Kuki wasn’t getting for her birthday. When he looked back, he noticed Nigel wasn’t at his side any more. Somehow the boy had slipped away from his sight and was walking towards Kuki with his brightly wrapped gift box.

Even Kuki was surprised to see Nigel go out of his way to seek her out and personally wish her a happy birthday without prompting. She was very happy when she saw her present: a bright red Rainbow Monkey (though Monty couldn’t truly tell one of these dolls from the other). Next thing Monty knew, Kuki was hugging Nigel and all but cutting off his oxygen (not that his son seemed to mind too much). It wasn’t long after that Nigel introduced her to Hoagie, Wally, and Abby. And so Kuki ended up getting the one thing she really wanted for her birthday after all.

When Nigel met Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr. in kindergarten, the two were inseparable. Monty had the boy to thank for giving Nigel a mild interest in hobby kits. Though, if the still unfinished one on his desk was anything to go by, Nigel didn’t have the knack for building that he did designing. Whenever they were building models from scratch, it was always Nigel who drew out the designs with pencils, crayons, or whatever else they could find. But it was Hoagie who always saw the designs through to completion. It wasn’t unusual to see Nigel in his bedroom with Hoagie, a mound of crumpled papers, and several schematics sprawled across the floor. Nigel and Hoagie called them “two-four-technobobs” or something of the sort.

Monty thought back to the time when they tried to sneak some of Katherine’s cookies from the kitchen before dinner. Monty had a particularly taxing practice session with the band students (that sousaphone player’s sharps were awfully flat). He was surprised when he walked in the house and saw Nigel and his friend ducking behind the kitchen wall with a remote control. Monty looked up and saw they were controlling a modified toy plane with a claw attached to the bottom. Nigel looked over at Monty and quickly shushed him before he could speak. Monty decided there was no harm in watching his son’s attempts and gave the boy an encouraging wink. After all, not even he succeeded in sneaking one of his wife’s cookies before dinner.

Monty watched as Hoagie pressed a button and lowered the claw to grab the lid of the cookie jar. He was certainly impressed when the boy operated the toy with such skill as to lift the lid off without alerting Katherine, who was busy preparing to boil some asparagus. Though Hoagie didn’t succeed at getting a hold of even one cookie before Katherine caught them with the claw in the cookie jar. Quickly, the boys withdrew the plane and made a hasty retreat up the stairs. Katherine called up to them cheekily applauding their creativity for the failed attempt. It looked to Monty like it would be back to the drawing board for Nigel and Hoagie. Parents one, kids zero.

And of course, Monty would be remiss if he didn’t mention Abby Lincoln. Abby had become something of a safety net among their group of friends, especially for Nigel ever since his accident. While Nigel was the leader of the pack as far as Monty could tell, Abby was the second in command. She still hadn’t forgiven herself for what happened to Nigel, no matter how many times everyone else insisted it wasn’t her fault. Abby was a good girl, an honor student, and sometimes left Monty wondering why she wasn’t the leader. There was the time Nigel was screaming about how they were under attack by “kid-eating leeches”. The other kids went along with Nigel, though it was unclear whether it was because they believed him or were just humoring him as his friends. Nonetheless, Abby convinced Nigel that he was just imagining things and explained that it was just snowing. Which brought Monty to his next point.

His son became far more paranoid. Looking back, there was a connection: everything seemed to happen all at once after whatever incident caused Nigel to lose his hair. Though what this incident was, Monty could never get a straight answer from his son.

Nigel still trusted Dr. Lincoln, for all of his bluster. But every other doctor was met with great suspicion. Monty remembered the attempt to file a restraining order against Nigel by that one doctor the boy was spying on. He knew his son could get carried away, but surely a restraining order on a kid was a bit excessive. But Nigel was still convinced that all other doctors were up to anti-kid activity. Every shot he was given was an attempt to infect him with all manner of toxins. Not toxins to stimulate immune responses, just regular toxins to poison him. He thought back to the recent fiasco with that Dr. Sharpe fellow. Katherine regaled Monty with one of Nigel’s fantasies about the doctor chasing him like some big-game hunter. Granted, that same doctor ended up being arrested for quackery and was ousted by an anonymous individual as a criminal named Chester Banks. Alright, Monty would let Nigel have that one.

Then Nigel ranted about how every dentist trying to implant sub-molar tracking devices. Nigel like most kids was suspicious of dentists, and Katherine blamed it on watching too many cartoons. Then that same week the local dentist, a man named Jasper Jelly, was found on the floor the dentist’s office with several of his teeth missing. The police thought it looked like they had been punched out. It turned out that Jelly was working as an unlicensed dentist by day, and by night he ran around in a strange costume calling himself “Knightbrace.” The man made himself out to be one of those American comic book superheroes like Major Glory or Vallhallen. Of course, many would describe Jelly’s actions as anything but heroic. Among the other things he did, Jelly performed forceful (and often painful) dental procedures on random children. The real dentist, Dr. Sigmund Teeth, was later rescued from a broom closet, having been bound and gagged by the self-proclaimed “Enamel Avenger.” Teeth was unable to confirm the identity of his rescuer, but gratefully extended a free checkup as token of appreciation over the local news before the anchors cut him off.

First there was that Chester character, now Jelly. It had to be a coincidence, Monty told himself at the time. Dentists were supposed to be out to help children. He couldn’t understand why so many, including Nigel, thought that they delighted in nothing more than torturing them. Not that this Jelly character would help Monty’s case, though. What was this town coming to?

And then there was the day Katherine told him about how she had received another phone call from Gallagher Elementary. Nigel’s history teacher, Mr. Frybingle (such a silly name), complained that he disrupted class to rant about how the buzzing fluorescent lights were “adult-microwave-cranial-jellifiers turning children’s brains into milkshakes.” Monty tried not to laugh at this one in front of his wife. Nigel had a vivid imagination…Monty thought that might make a good science fiction story. “You need to do something about this, Monty. No son of mine is going to disrupt class with some rigmarole!” She rolled the “r” sounds and waved her hands for emphasis. While Katherine was clearly bemused, he on the other hand, was very amused. Nonetheless, he decided to humor his wife. Monty suggested that Nigel might improve his behavior if he got to know his family a little better. Katherine agreed.

So Monty took Nigel with him to visit Pappy at the Surewood Retirement Home on Saturday. He remembered when he first introduced Pappy to his new grandson. Nigel cried like any other infant, but Monty didn’t think too much of it then. Katherine calmed the child and everything was fine. Now when Nigel saw the man, he looked almost…unnerved by Pappy. He wasn’t overly afraid, but he cringed slightly whenever Pappy tried to pat him on the shoulder. Nigel looked at the man like he was a terrible demon ready to steal his soul (Not that Pappy could tell.) Monty never really liked visiting the man much anyway. He almost wondered why he still bothered doing that. Monty shook his head and watched Nigel run off to meet his schoolmate Hoagie Gilligan, who was visiting his grandmother.

When visiting hours were over, it was raining so hard that Monty could barely see the road in front of him. Monty called his wife to tell her that they were going to stop for cheeseburgers on the way home until the storm blew over. Nigel was quiet, and didn’t seem to respond to Monty’s attempts at conversation. He put on the car radio and tried playing a game of “twenty questions”, but to no avail.

They walked into the restaurant, got their table and went through the motions. Nigel ate his bacon cheeseburger quietly, and didn’t respond much beyond simple yes or no questions. Monty decided to order the signature ice cream bombs for dessert. Blurpleberry for himself and for Nigel, his favorite flavor of pistachio. Nigel picked at his dessert, which worried Monty. Normally the dessert was his favorite part of the meal. “Now Nigel-Old-Bean, I’ll confess that I don’t much like visiting Pappy anymore than you do, but it wasn’t all bad was it?” he asked. Nigel mumbled something under his breath that Monty couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry, son, could you please repeat that?”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Eh, what?” asked Monty “What is it that I don’t I believe you about”

“About the dentists, the shots, the fluorescent lights, adult tyranny, everything!” Nigel stopped short when he realized the waiter was looking at him surprised before setting the bill on the table and leaving. Mortified, Nigel slunk back in his chair.

“Surely all adults can’t be ‘tyrannical'…there’s me for example!”

“But you’re my dad, of course you’re not!”

Part of Monty was pleased that in spite of whatever happened to Nigel, he still trusted his father…at least that’s how he interpreted it. Though he would never admit it to Nigel, he had noticed a spike in crimes targeted at children in the paper during the last few months. There was nothing in the “Do’s and Don’t’s” section of the paper to prepare him on how to broach the subject to his son. So Monty decided that he would try being frank with Nigel.

“Look Nigel, I know you have a lot of fun with your 'kids-on-the-block’ buddies, but…”

“Kids Next Door” corrected Nigel.

“Right, right. And I know things are…shall we say…topsy-turvy?” Nigel’s expression darkened. Monty had to react quickly and hoped whatever he said next wouldn’t upset his soon too much. “But understand, Nigel-Old-Bean, there is an adult right in front of you who wants to help you very much. But you have to tell me first, instead of flying of the handle and…oh dear” Only now had Monty just realized what he had done when he saw Nigel looking down at the ground.

“I’ll go wait in the car” said Nigel.

Without another word, Monty unlocked the car outside and his son walked out into the pouring rain. He made a mental note to write a letter to the editor for The Daily Neighbor.

Nigel was becoming more and more distant now, even from his own family. Sure there, was their annual family vacation to Hap-Happyland, and even in his current state Nigel couldn’t resist riding the rollercoasters. But then there were times when he’d go out and seemed like he’d rather be somewhere else. Nigel was now going out of his way to avoid going fishing, something they both used to enjoy so much together. And sometimes when he did go, one of his “kids on the block” buddies would interrupt their quality time and Nigel would just leave.

At first, Monty figured it was all a great game of pretend like how children would pretend to be Yipper or a Pretty Princess Rainbow Monkey on the playground. He offered to join the game once, suggesting that he could be “Numbuh Zero” to Nigel’s “Numbuh One”(why did that seem so significant?) In any case, this was met with a response about how there are no adults in the kids-on-the-block and Monty relented. It was all fun at first, but Nigel continued to become more and more distant.

Then, when his schoolwork started to take a turn for the worst, Katherine decided it was time to intervene. So she looked into finding a child psychologist for Nigel, figuring it might help them work out what was wrong with their son.

And finally, came That Day.

That Day, Katherine took Nigel to the psychologist, and despite initial protests had relented at the promise of pistachio ice cream. After Nigel was directed to the doctor’s office, that was when things went wrong.

Katherine had been in the waiting room when she heard a loud crash and Nigel’s scream. She told the police she ran into the office and found it was set alight. The last thing she claimed to see before being knocked out by the smoke was Nigel in the clutches of a strange man. When she was asked what the man looked like, she said his face was shadowed despite the whole room being illuminated by the fire. By the time the fire department got there, the fire was already put out and everyone inside evacuated safely. Monty hurried over as soon as he heard the news and felt his heart shatter when he saw Katherine clutching Nigel’s favorite sunglasses, now cracked and scorched. Any leads the police could’ve used were lost in the fire, and there was a very distinct possibility that if Nigel wasn’t already dead… Monty didn’t want to even think about that.

One of the witnesses went on the local news and provided a testimony that supported Katherine’s version of the events. He also claimed to have seen a group of little people wearing samurai armor and combat fatigues facing the “shadowed man”. Almost no outlets, not even the local newspaper covered the events in depth. A few of the seedier publications had ran with this version of the story and added that these “little samurai people” were using household appliances modified into weaponry to fight Nigel’s captor before being knocked out themselves. Of course, these were the same tabloids that claimed there were multiple sightings of the Grim Reaper in a town called Endsville. Then again, even a broken clock was right twice a day. That same witness was later hospitalized after his house exploded due to a gas leak in the night. All sorts of rumors had begun cropping up about how this “shadowed man” might be behind it or that it was some pyromaniac who escaped from the happy hotel wanting vengeance on the town.

The next day, Senator Samuel Safely called Monty and Katherine to an emergency assembly at the school gymnasium. Safely, who would normally fret over every potential threat to kids, became dead serious now that an actual threat had surfaced. Safely urged all children to keep their eyes open for any suspicious characters and never talk to strangers before opening the floor to the Unos. Katherine nodded and took the microphone.

“Please children, if you see any sign of Nigel, please tell us. We just want to see our son come home safe and sound.” Monty remained silent and nodded in agreement. He spotted Abby and the rest of Nigel’s friends among the crowd. Wally and Kuki were holding hands and trying to comfort one another. Hoagie was still like a statue, and any emotion in his eyes hidden by his aviator goggles. Abby’s head was held low at first, but then surprised Monty by looking directly at him from the bleachers. He couldn’t tell from where he was standing, but it looked like Abby was mouthing something to him.

“I’ll find him”

Abby and the others wouldn’t be coming home from school that day.

And so the police now had four more missing child cases to solve on top of Nigel. At first, the police told the parents to keep close to the phone. Since there was a kidnapper, there was a possibility that it could’ve been a ransom case. Within a few days and no calls, the police began looking for the body, rather than the child. After a few more weeks of investigating, the police declared Nigel a cold case, and told Monty and Katherine to assume the worst.

To make matters worse, Benedict’s mansion had burned down the night after Abby and the others went missing. No trace of the man’s body was found in the ruins, but Monty’s hopes weren’t high. While he had never been particularly close to his younger brother, he couldn’t handle losing him, too. More rumors of the “shadowed man” and his involvement surfaced, but Monty didn’t pay much attention to them.

The car ride home from the police station went on for what felt like an eternity. Katherine remained silent with her head held low while Monty kept his eyes on the road. Neither of them spoke a word as they entered their silent home.

He looked over at a pile of newspapers on his doorstep. Not one issue of the paper held any information about what to do when your child was abducted…

Then Monty looked up. The large tree fort above their house cast a shadow over the married couple, as if it were trying to protect them. And if they knew what would await them all in the coming days, they were going to need it.

On his way upstairs, Monty peered into in Nigel’s room, looking around at his possessions. A blue Rainbow Monkey from when he was little, a model kit on his desk that would remain unfinished, his telescope and a large number of other items. What caught Monty’s eye was an old family photo. It had been taken on their first vacation to Hap-Happy Land as a family. Back when Nigel still had his hair and was sitting on Monty’s shoulder’s looking like he was having the time of his life…what happened? There was a distinct possibility that it would be now and forever unknown.

But it wasn’t enough.

#Codename: Kids Next Door #Fanfiction #au #numbuh one #numbuh five #sector v #abigail lincoln #monty uno #nigel uno #father #chapter one #left behind #fathers #sons

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