Don't Hug Me I'm Scared One Shots

The House on Mortimer Road

((Eyy I was think about the headcannons I came up with, and I decided, hey! Why not write about June? I see the calendar as an ominous figure, and not, I repeat not a padlock love child. I think they are the ones who keep rewinding the date, so listen carefully. Remember this is before dhmis five, so Robin isn't dead yet.))
Robin always knew that here was something off about this place. Maybe it was because it was the very last house on the block, spread far away from all the rest. Maybe it was the dirty window panes, the rust on the house number reading '619'. Maybe it was the fact that summer seemed to last forever, and there were barely any signs of any other seasons coming.
The trio had been living one the outskirts of London for a while now, and every year that they've been in this house, the weirder things would get.
The first year here was alright. The rent was good, and everyone who stopped by their house was very friendly. Then, all of a sudden they stopped getting visitors. Stopped receiving bills. Their house was like a vacant lot, no activity to whatsoever. Robin assumed that everyone just sort of forgot about them.
Soon after, they arrived, and everything went spiralling downwards. Him and his friends were plunged into a world of immense torture, both mental and physical. They were forced to eat their own pets, rotted down to the bone, stalked by a cultist, and trapped in a labyrinth of numbers and codes. For what seemed like years, these oddities messed with their heads, but now there is a strange pause in the storm, and everything is fuzzy. Robin is starting to wonder why they haven't tried to attack again. So now he waits.
Robin went to sit down in his rocking chair when something pressed against his side as soon as he sat down. The green headed male yelped, jumping out of his seat, digging around in his back pocket for the source of his discomfort. He exhaled deeply when he pulled out a rusted box cutter, that he found in Roy's garage a while ago. He had forgotten it was even there. Robin found it sad that he was used to carrying a box cutter in his pocket in his own home. No matter how strange others would see it, having the weapon close by gave him comfort, something he hadn't felt in a long time. The objects made sure that they were constantly on their toes.
Lately, said objects weren't behaving like they were supposed to. They weren't being hostile, they weren't trying to bring the trio to their demise, they were just...there, as if they were good tenants of the household. Robin found it quite strange how mellow they were being, and quite frankly, it scared him. What if this was all an act? A trick, so that the three would let their guard down, so they could attack. He didn't know about Manny or Harry, but he sure wasn't going to trust them, not for a second.
The air in the room felt hot, and sweat started to bead on Robin's skin. Was this it? Were he and his friends going to be condemned to an eternity of waiting? He twirled the box cutter in his hand. Things usually weren't this calm unless the objects were plotting to kill them, or there was going to be a new teacher.
His eyes widened at the thought.
A new teacher?
That couldn't possibly be it, there had already been four. He couldn't think of another subject they could try and 'teach' them now.
"Robin? We're going to the park. Would you like to come?" Manny's upbeat voice interrupted his thoughts.
Robin had always wondered how Manny of all people could stay happy through the lessons. He was the youngest of the three, and the most impressionable. He did remember Manny complaining about not being able to remember some events, so maybe it was because he couldn't remember that he wasn't afraid. Him and Harry got the worst end of the knife- nightmares, insomnia, he list goes on. But as long as Manny as happy, he was happy.
"I think I'm going to stay home today," he answered his friends. It was already warm in the house, it was going to be even warmer outside, and he didn't bode too well with heat.
"Alrighty! See you soon!"
Robin watched as his two friends exited the house, leaving him alone.
Just him, the four walls, and the homicidal objects.
On second thought, maybe staying back wasn't a good idea at all.
Robin frowned, standing up and stretching. He wasn't about to sit here and risk getting attacked. He was going to lock himself in his room until Harry and Manny came back.
He started to walk up stairs, and half way up the flight he heard a noise.
Thump.
He paused, his grip automatically tightening on the blade in his left hand. Why was he so afraid? It was probably just one of the object, or the house settling or something. He listened in again, and this time, he heard foot steps. What could they be doing up there.
Quietly, he tip-toed up the steps, and peeked into the hallway cautiously.
Instead of seeing one of the teachers, there was a short being with their back to him, crouching over and fiddling with something. He held back a scream, quickly hid my a wall. He had a death grip on the box cutter by now, and his body was quivering. What was that thing, why was it here? He knew he couldn't make it to his room without it seeing him, so he decided it would be better just to go back downstairs.
He turned, and tried to go down as quietly as he can, but I guess that the universe just wanted him to be killed or something, because just as he did, the stairs made a horrible creak. He cringed, praying the thing wouldn't hear him, but as he turned around to check, he was face to face with jet black eyes. The green headed male yelped, losing his balance and falling down the stairs.
He groaned, sitting up slowly and holding his head in his hands. He had taken a pretty bad fall, and the worst part about this situation is that he barely had time to recover. The thing was already standing inches from him, staring down at his limp form. It was almost like they were standing there before him. Robin glanced around nervously for the box cutter, but he had lost it when he fell down the stairs. There was no knowing what this person would do to him, and he didn't want to stick around to find out.
He started backing away from them, whimpering and biting his lip. There was a huge lump in the male's throat. When his back hit a wall, there was no holding back his tears anymore. He wailed out for someone to help him, tears streaming down his face.
"PAIGE! COLIN!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!"
When no one answered his call, he whimpered and closed his eyes, pressing his body against the wall, like if he pressed hard enough, he'd be anywhere but here. Was this it? Was this how he was going to die? He could hear the beat of his own heart, and he was digging his nails into his palms, bracing himself for what was soon to come...
Only it didn't.
How long were they going to make him wait in fear?
Were they gone?
Robin's eyes fluttered open slowly, and he squeaked when he was met with the same soulless black eyes from before.
The person blinked, staring at Robin in complete silence before they asked;
"Are you finished now...?"
The green haired male just stared. "Huh...wha..? F-Finished what...?" He asked.
"Finished being afraid," they answered, bitterness tainting their British accent. Their voice was unique. It was just high enough to be feminine,mans just low enough to be masculine. That pitch, I'll leave up to your imagination~
"No! No I'm not, quite frankly!" He squeaked. "Y-You're a stranger in my home!"
"I'm not a stranger," they said to Robin. "And this is not your home. I've been here all along, you and your friends are just too...occupied to notice..."
Robin couldn't help but find a strange familiarity to their mannerisms, and the way they spoke.
"Not...not our home...?" He asked.
They stood up, stretching, and looking back down at Robin. They offered him their pale hand, which Robin quaintly slapped away. He stood up on his own, trying to stay quite a distance away from the outsider.
"Who are you? Are you one of them?" He asked.
"If by 'one of them' you mean an object, then yes. I'm a calendar. On the contrary, I'm not here to try and teach you anything," they answered, stepping back politely and giving Robin his space.
He tilted his head. "Calendar..calendar! Oh! So that's why the calendar kept moving from room to room..." He mumbled to himself.
The calendar nodded, brushing their black bangs away from their face.
"So...why are you in your human form now? Why haven't you ever showed it to us before?" He asked them, examining their small frame.
They were short, about as tall as Robin (maybe a little taller), and were wearing a white, short sleeved shirt, with red suspenders and a bow tie. The breast pocket of the shirt had a little number 19 on it.
"I've been in my human form plenty of times," they answered blankly, turning and walking away from Robin. Their heeled boots clicked on the wooden floor.
Robin followed them with his eyes, watching their every move carefully as they turned their back to him again. They started fiddling with something again, before sighing, and putting it back into the pocket of their loose grey shorts.
"What's that?" Robin asked.
They turned around to face him, but kept their eyes on the ground. "A watch...it's broken..." They explained.
Quickly after that, they walked into the living room.
Robin pursed his lips. He knew that this person could be the end of him, and he really should know better than to trust somebody he recently met, but he was quite curious about the calendar. He just couldn't shake this strange feeling of déjà vu...he needed to find out more.
Curiosity might have killed the cat, but if death was the price of knowledge, he would want to die knowing what he was up against. Suddenly, a crash came from the living room, knocking him back to reality.
The male ran into the living room, searching for the source of the noise.
The calendar was now on their knees, picking up broken pieces of a clock off the ground. (Robin could practically hear Tony screaming already).
"Wh?! How the hell did that happen?!?" He asked.
"I needed parts...a battery..." They mumbled.
Robin pinched his nose bridge. "If you needed a battery, you could have just asked...!"
"I don't need your charity." They replied roughly.
Robin huffed, crossing his arms and looking away so they wouldn't see his red face.
They continued to search for the battery in the mess they made on the floor, and when they weren't satisfied with what they found, they stood up, heading to the kitchen.
"Hey!" Robin followed close behind them. "If you're looking for a battery, you're not going to find one in there," he told them.
They turned around, crossing their arms over their flat chest and glaring at Robin.
A shiver ran up his spine, and he stood completely still until they walked out of the room.
The male turned on his heels, trying to catch up with them.
"Y-You know, it's kinda funny...you remind me a lot of someone or something, but I can't figure out who..." He said to them.
They just kept walking, as if Robin wasn't even there.
He puffed out his cheeks. "Hello?! What am I, chopped liver?"
"Why are you so persistent on talking to me when I clearly don't want to talk to you?" The calendar asked, turning around to face Robin.
Oh, if only looks could kill.
Robin shrunk down a bit, his reddish brown orbs refusing to rest on the being in front of him.
"Uh...I-I.." He choked on his words.
"That's what I thought." They continued to walk.
"W-Wait...!" He called after them.
They stopped, but refused to look back at him.
"I can help you, you know...I'll give you a battery," he said.
The calendar sighed, walking back up to him. "I need a watch battery,"
"Oh...! Well in that case, you can borrow mine...!"
Robin took the brown off of his wrist, handing it to the person.
Once they got the battery out, they put it into their own black watch. They thanked Robin once the silver hands of the watch started to move again.
"Hey, why is that watch so important to you anyways?" He asked.
"Well, since you asked so nicely, I might as well tell you," they started. "Each one of the objects has a special power. Paige can secrete ink from her pores, Tony can hyper-age someone, Shrignold can hypnotize people, Colin has his digital world, and well, I have this," they strapped the watch onto their wrist.
"I'm sure you've noticed it by now. How every day here is summer, how everything is just...fuzzy," they said.
Robin nodded, listening quietly as they continued to explain.
"That's all because of me!" They exclaimed proudly.
Robin's eyes widened slightly. "Wh..what are you saying...?" He asked. He couldn't help but feel as if he knew something about this person, but it was buried deep at the back of his mind.
"On June 19th, a person went missing near this house," they continued. "I was never announced dead. My family never found my body. The person who killed me was never convicted," with every word, their voice grew more angry and bitter.
Robin whimpered softly, stepping back, only for them to step closer to him.
"Every year on June 19th, anyone who lived in this house goes missing," they chuckled, an eerily wide smile pulling at the corners of their lips.
"And it got me thinking, what if every day here, was the 19th?!?!?" They started to laugh, their pale, porcelain skin starting to crack. Black lines ran down their face, as if their skin was made of glass.
Robin stumbled over, eyes wide in shock. He was absolutely terrified, and shaking.
They were the reason he and his friends were being tortured. They were the reason they could never leave this house. It was all because of them. Tears streamed down his face, and his breathing picked up.
"Why are you telling me all of this?!?" He asked.
"You asked me to tell you, did you not?! Plus, soon you're not going to remember any of this!!" They replied.
They toyed with their watch, pressing a couple buttons then tapping on it once, and Robin was plunged into this feeling of déjà vu, and nausea.
As his vision grew blurry, something popper into his mind. The thought he was searching for all this time.
June.

Robin awoke with a start, looking around quickly at his surroundings. How long had he been asleep? He groaned, rubbing his eyes and trying to hold on to the mere whisps of a strange dream. The male still felt pretty tired, but he didn't want to go to sleep at a random hour and then wake up early/late. He pushed up his sleeve to check the time, only to find that his watch was dead.

((AaaaaAaaAAA. I'm rlly proud of this concept. June is edgy as fUck in this and I'm not even sorry aha. Also I didn't proof read sO))