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fandomweekly2025-10-26 08:41 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2025-10-26 08:41 pm
Entry tags:
[#279] BORROWED FRIENDS (ORIGINAL)
Theme Prompt: #279 - Haunted library
Title: Borrowed friends
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: On a quiet evening, Violet likes to spend time with her friends at the library.
‘Goodnight, Mrs Ingalls,’ Violet said as the old crone picked up her handbag and headed for the front doors of the library. She must have been nearly a hundred, maybe even older. She would have been head librarian even before Violet had been born.
‘You won’t stay back too late, dear?’ Mrs Ingalls asked.
‘No, Mrs Ingalls, I won't,’ Violet promised. ‘Just a handful of books and then I'll head home.’ The librarian gave her a nod of approval and turned on her heel, leaving Violet alone in the library.
There was nothing particularly exotic about being a librarian's assistant. mostly it was just helping people to find books, photocopy pages, and collect overdue fines when people finally located that book which had gotten buried at the bottom of a pile of other things in their house.
When she wasn't doing those things she was sorting books to be put back on the shelves, always pushing around a trolley full of recently returned volumes trying to get them in some semblance of order before she attempted to put them back on the shelves where they belonged. She preferred to do this late in the day, when everyone else had gone home. Of course, that wasn't the only reason why she preferred working later at night. Technically she wasn't being paid a penny beyond closing time, but there was something about this library that made working for free worthwhile.
Violet grabbed the trolley and began pushing it past the tall wooden shelves of books deep within the bowels of the library. Whilst there were fiction books to be shelved, tonight she had other plans. She headed down to the ancient history section at the far end of the library, in a dark corner where few ever ventured to go.
Violet wasn't sure whether it was something to do with her or something to do with the library, but this was definitely no ordinary library. This was the kind of library where one could open a book and the ghosts of the characters from its pages came to life. Some had become Violet’s friends and she visited them after closing time.
Her two dearest friends Charlie and Eoin were already waiting for her, although perhaps waiting wasn't the correct term. She could hear them arguing several shelves away as she approached. They were always bickering at one another, catching the back end of their argument.
‘Why do we always have to hang out in the ancient history section?’ she heard Eoin ask.
‘Because we’re ancient history, dumbass!’
‘You died in 1587. That's not ancient.’
‘Well, at least I still look okay. Look at you with all those freaky black swollen up bits.’
‘It was the plague. I didn't choose to look like this. I was actually considered quite handsome before this.’
‘By who? Your mother?’
‘Play nicely, guys,’ Violet said. ‘What did I tell you last time? If you can't behave I'll have to pop you back in your books.’
‘Sorry, Violet.’
‘Sorry, Violet.’
‘Better. Now who should we have join us tonight?’ Violet could pick up any book and open its pages, scanning them for anything she might desire to come to life and visit. Some would just visit for the night, others tend to stay longer. Some were not even particularly friendly, so she popped them back in their books before they could cause any trouble. ‘We could visit the art section,’ Violet suggested. ‘There must have been loads of interesting people from the Renaissance period.’
‘Really?’ Charlie asked. ‘All those artists are so boring, especially that Michaelangelo.’
‘What would you know about Michaelangelo?’ Eoin asked.
‘Clearly more than you do. What about something from some British history?’ Charlie suggested.
‘Okay,’ Violet replied, letting them follow behind her as she perused the shelves, letting her fingers trace along the spines until she found an interesting looking book. “Steam trains of Britain,” it read. She never brought anybody famous from the books; she was far more interested in those little bystander characters who scarcely got a mention, but had lots of interesting stories to tell nonetheless.
‘What’s a steam train?’ Eoin asked.
Charlie huffed. ‘Honestly, don't you know anything?’
‘I'm from the 13th century. We didn't have steam drains back then.’
‘Why don't you read a few books and educate yourself?’
Eoin arched up and dived through the front cover of the book Violet was holding and slipped back out the other side as if the cover was made of nothing at all. ‘Oh, steam trains! They're so cool!’
‘Oh, dear God,’ Charlie moaned. ‘Give him a book on the most basic concepts and he goes to pieces.’
Violet had been about to open the book when a sudden sound from not far away made her freeze. ‘What was that?’
Charlie frowned. ‘Someone still here?’
‘No, the library closed half an hour ago,’ she replied. She picked herself up from the floor, tiptoeing silently to the end of the row of shelves and peeking around the other side. There was the noise again, somewhere overhead. She kept low and to the shadows, Charlie and Eoin following behind her until she rounded the next aisle and found a book lying open on the floor, pages facing upwards. She bent over and picked it up, studying the cover. “Great train journeys through the Transylvanian Mountains.”
Something flapped overhead and Charlie squealed. ‘Bat! It's a bat!’
Violet looked up and saw the leathery wings as they flew past. ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ she told it, holding up the open book. ‘We don't need any bats in the library, thank you very much.’ As if on command the bat flew down towards her, dived right into the heart of the book and disappeared. She snapped it shut and slid it back onto the shelf. ‘There.’
Charlie shuddered. ‘I hate bats.’
‘You’re a ghost,’ Eoin said. ‘They can’t hurt you. And you call me a dumbass.’
‘You're the dumbass!’
Violet sighed. Sometimes friends were hard work.
Title: Borrowed friends
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: On a quiet evening, Violet likes to spend time with her friends at the library.
‘Goodnight, Mrs Ingalls,’ Violet said as the old crone picked up her handbag and headed for the front doors of the library. She must have been nearly a hundred, maybe even older. She would have been head librarian even before Violet had been born.
‘You won’t stay back too late, dear?’ Mrs Ingalls asked.
‘No, Mrs Ingalls, I won't,’ Violet promised. ‘Just a handful of books and then I'll head home.’ The librarian gave her a nod of approval and turned on her heel, leaving Violet alone in the library.
There was nothing particularly exotic about being a librarian's assistant. mostly it was just helping people to find books, photocopy pages, and collect overdue fines when people finally located that book which had gotten buried at the bottom of a pile of other things in their house.
When she wasn't doing those things she was sorting books to be put back on the shelves, always pushing around a trolley full of recently returned volumes trying to get them in some semblance of order before she attempted to put them back on the shelves where they belonged. She preferred to do this late in the day, when everyone else had gone home. Of course, that wasn't the only reason why she preferred working later at night. Technically she wasn't being paid a penny beyond closing time, but there was something about this library that made working for free worthwhile.
Violet grabbed the trolley and began pushing it past the tall wooden shelves of books deep within the bowels of the library. Whilst there were fiction books to be shelved, tonight she had other plans. She headed down to the ancient history section at the far end of the library, in a dark corner where few ever ventured to go.
Violet wasn't sure whether it was something to do with her or something to do with the library, but this was definitely no ordinary library. This was the kind of library where one could open a book and the ghosts of the characters from its pages came to life. Some had become Violet’s friends and she visited them after closing time.
Her two dearest friends Charlie and Eoin were already waiting for her, although perhaps waiting wasn't the correct term. She could hear them arguing several shelves away as she approached. They were always bickering at one another, catching the back end of their argument.
‘Why do we always have to hang out in the ancient history section?’ she heard Eoin ask.
‘Because we’re ancient history, dumbass!’
‘You died in 1587. That's not ancient.’
‘Well, at least I still look okay. Look at you with all those freaky black swollen up bits.’
‘It was the plague. I didn't choose to look like this. I was actually considered quite handsome before this.’
‘By who? Your mother?’
‘Play nicely, guys,’ Violet said. ‘What did I tell you last time? If you can't behave I'll have to pop you back in your books.’
‘Sorry, Violet.’
‘Sorry, Violet.’
‘Better. Now who should we have join us tonight?’ Violet could pick up any book and open its pages, scanning them for anything she might desire to come to life and visit. Some would just visit for the night, others tend to stay longer. Some were not even particularly friendly, so she popped them back in their books before they could cause any trouble. ‘We could visit the art section,’ Violet suggested. ‘There must have been loads of interesting people from the Renaissance period.’
‘Really?’ Charlie asked. ‘All those artists are so boring, especially that Michaelangelo.’
‘What would you know about Michaelangelo?’ Eoin asked.
‘Clearly more than you do. What about something from some British history?’ Charlie suggested.
‘Okay,’ Violet replied, letting them follow behind her as she perused the shelves, letting her fingers trace along the spines until she found an interesting looking book. “Steam trains of Britain,” it read. She never brought anybody famous from the books; she was far more interested in those little bystander characters who scarcely got a mention, but had lots of interesting stories to tell nonetheless.
‘What’s a steam train?’ Eoin asked.
Charlie huffed. ‘Honestly, don't you know anything?’
‘I'm from the 13th century. We didn't have steam drains back then.’
‘Why don't you read a few books and educate yourself?’
Eoin arched up and dived through the front cover of the book Violet was holding and slipped back out the other side as if the cover was made of nothing at all. ‘Oh, steam trains! They're so cool!’
‘Oh, dear God,’ Charlie moaned. ‘Give him a book on the most basic concepts and he goes to pieces.’
Violet had been about to open the book when a sudden sound from not far away made her freeze. ‘What was that?’
Charlie frowned. ‘Someone still here?’
‘No, the library closed half an hour ago,’ she replied. She picked herself up from the floor, tiptoeing silently to the end of the row of shelves and peeking around the other side. There was the noise again, somewhere overhead. She kept low and to the shadows, Charlie and Eoin following behind her until she rounded the next aisle and found a book lying open on the floor, pages facing upwards. She bent over and picked it up, studying the cover. “Great train journeys through the Transylvanian Mountains.”
Something flapped overhead and Charlie squealed. ‘Bat! It's a bat!’
Violet looked up and saw the leathery wings as they flew past. ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ she told it, holding up the open book. ‘We don't need any bats in the library, thank you very much.’ As if on command the bat flew down towards her, dived right into the heart of the book and disappeared. She snapped it shut and slid it back onto the shelf. ‘There.’
Charlie shuddered. ‘I hate bats.’
‘You’re a ghost,’ Eoin said. ‘They can’t hurt you. And you call me a dumbass.’
‘You're the dumbass!’
Violet sighed. Sometimes friends were hard work.
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