The Last Kids on Earth X Fem!Reader [ON HIATUS + UNDER EDITING)

Chapter 6 - A Fudge Fever Dream (EDITED)

"Oh, stop it, would you?"

I reeled back, staring at the book with wide eyes. Did . . . did the dictionary just talk?

The book itself, however, seemed to be unfazed.

"You're being overdramatic!" it said, the cover opening and closing animatedly with each word. "Shouldn't you be asking why Jack labeled June as a feat instead of questioning the definition of the actual word?"

I glanced around the room, trying to figure out if this was all a dream.

"And what's wrong with the definition itself? I don't even think you're mad about that; I think you're mad that it's implying that Jack had the courage, skill, or strength to go save your friend, even though he still kinda failed!"

I pinched my arm, which stung painfully, but the book did not stop speaking. ". . . What the hell are you?" I muttered, inching closer.

"I'm a dictionary, genius," it snapped, the pages within it fluttering madly. "And maybe if you cracked open one, you'd know what I am. But no, you were always too busy playing Candy Crush and reading fanfics on your phone!"

"I, uh . . ."

"And don't even get me started on your—"

"Now, now, Smarty Fudge, there's no need to be rude."

There was a bright flash of light, the sudden appearance of it startling me as I yelped and covered my eyes. The light eventually faded into a dim glow, and as I lowered my hands, I gasped in surprise.

Standing behind the principal's desk, faintly lit with a soft golden glow, was a tall man wearing a long white robe with a little moustache. A small halo hovered above his hair, which was made with . . .

Fudge. Rich, deep-brown, chunky fudge.

His posture and calm demeanour made it seem like he was royalty or something, and although the man only looked to be in his early thirties, something in my gut told me he had been around for much longer.

". . . What in the actual hell."

The fudge man chuckled and placed a hand on his chest. "Hello, (Y/N). I apologize for the sudden appearance. I haven't gone through my evening routine yet, and as you can see, I am quite the mess."

I tried to close my mouth, which was hanging open in shock, but it just opened again. "Who are you?" I whispered. "What are you?"

Fudge Man raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do you not remember me? You've been making offerings and prayers to me since you were a child. Perhaps I should have alerted you of my presence beforehand."

That's when it hit me. The formal tone, the little halo, the fudge hair. It all added up.

How could I have forgotten? I even made a prayer to this entity right when the apocalypse started.

"You're the Holy Fudge," I said, blinking multiple times to make sure I was still awake. "I . . . I never thought you were actually real. I kinda always prayed to you as a joke."

"Yes, not many know of our existence, as we are some of the lesser known spirits of this world, so we are mostly worshipped by children," Holy Fudge replied. "But we are grateful for your devotion to us nonetheless."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Uh, we?"

Holy Fudge spread his hands out in front of him. "Yes, my siblings and I. Speaking of which, why don't you meet one of them now?"

Before I could process what was happening, the Holy Fudge grabbed the dictionary, which had been silent for some time now, opened it, and tore out the first page.