#viola darling

[ohmytoddhewitt]

viola!!! i love her and no one knows what she looks like really but someone said redhead once so i have latched into that haha

also haha ofc in a v neck, that's literally all she wears one hundred percent

[ohmytoddhewitt]

oh my God it's toddy-boy and viola darling TOGETHER

in COLOR

wOah

[ohmytoddhewitt]

ehhh not the best but still VIOLAAAAAA

[ohmytoddhewitt]

Ah, the age-old question... calc or drawing?

Young Viola ❤️

[ohmytoddhewitt]

SO IT’S TECHNICALLY STILL CHRISTMAS, I’M NOT TOO LATE

hehehe so todd and viola kissingggggggg

under the mistletoe au, idk if they have christmas

also I’m lazy so black and whiteee but red for ‘accent’ and ‘festivity’

hehehehe my lovelies, everybody

(we all love toddy boy in a tank amiright)

[ohmytoddhewitt]

Omg did I not share this one???

It's perfection and very much needed to be shared I love my sweet girl

[ohmytoddhewitt]

alright from now on my pet names for my dears are toddy-boy and viola darling

[ohmytoddhewitt]

So thanks to @freddiesstache for a wonderful prompt about an AU where Manchee didn't die and Viola and Todd live on a farm and so yeah I put it a bit in the future, but I hope you like it!

There's smoke, there's always smoke. A Spackle whose face I can't quite see, a girl I can't quite save. And a man - a man who stares into my eyes and then walks into the sea-

“TODD!” a voice shouts, awakening me. My eyes open a bit, but then decide it's too much work and close again. A sudden pair of lips encase mine, and that shocks my eyes open alright. I still ain't used to Viola, even after ten years with her as my wife.

Lips cracking open, I smile at her. “What's wrong, pretty lady?”

Viola gives me a pouty face, reminding me of when we were younger. “Todd… you were screaming again.”

Oh.

“Cillian and Davy and Arlo and Jessie… they… Todd, they all woke up and came in here.”

Oh. I sit up and glimpse my kids standing in the doorway. My kids, with identical looks of fear, everyone of them, splattered across their faces. Noise from Cillian and Davy and Arlo runs in circles around me as Dad? and ok? and why screaming?

Jessie’s thoughts ain't known to me, but I know they're saying the same thing.

A dog barks and runs in the room and I hear Manchee’s Noise, too - Todd? and ok Todd? and poo, Todd.

Laughing a bit (Manchee always needs to poo), I whisper a soft “later” in Viola’s ear and slip out of bed, coming to kneel before my children.

“Boys and darling little girl,” I say, “it's late! What're y'all doing out of bed?”

Jessie's voice breaks through the tumult of thought from her brothers. “Daddy, Daddy. We thought you was-”

“Were,” Viola interjects.

A glare, and then- “we thought you were having a nightmare. Yer Noise was red and loud and we all got kinda scared and figured we should try to help you get out of it.”

“My sweet children, I'm fine now! Any Noise or words from you always makes me feel better. But y'all know what else makes me feel better?”

Four identical looks of confusion.

A smile and a shout of “TICKLE FIGHTS” sends the four of them shrieking away, scampering back to bed, Manchee and I running after them, our Noise combining into one mass along with my boys’ that screams the words tickle and Daddy! and I need to get away and I'm gonna get you and happy Todd!

I chase them back to their rooms, the boys in one and Jessie in another. I tuck them in, my Noise a soothing blue of sleep and I'm okay now and thank you.

I open the door of our house, and Manchee streaks outside because poo, Todd is omnipresent and so very annoying. The stars wink at me, over the tops of our apple orchard. Manchee reappears, am excited orange filling his Noise.

I pooed, Todd. Big poo. Hungry now. Todd. Good boy? Todd good. He races through the house, back to his bed in the kitchen.

He's old, now. Gray streaks his muzzle, but he still acts like a puppy.

Smiling, I walk back to Viola and my’s room, making sure to step lightly on the old staircase, trying to avoid the possibility of our kids waking.

She's waiting for me, a concerned, yet content look on her face. She's heard our Noise and knows what I've done, and is pleased with how well I handled the children's fears, but at the same time…

“Do you think they'll ever go away?” The nightmares.

I don't really notice the words so much as her eyes - full of sorrow, as she remembers what I remember, nearly every night, in my dreams. Tears fill them, and I'm suddenly reminded of the sky I saw moments before, the stars twinkling in it.

“Vi, darling, come here.”

I extend my hand, and my wife takes it. I pull her to our window, and then I climb out of it onto the roof, her hand still in mine.

I sit down with her and say, “Viola, look at the stars.”

I watch her, making sure she sees what I see. And maybe she does, or maybe it's in my Noise, but I see understanding on her face, her beautiful, wonderful face that just has light shining from it as it always does and just.

A little “oh” escapes her mouth, along with a tear from her eye.

“Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

She kisses me, as soft as always. As soft as the first time.

We're connected to them all, all the ones who've gone before us - and when I see the stars, I see them - I see them all, as the light goes from their eyes. But then I see that light, I see it in the stars. And I think, maybe, finally, they can be happy.