Saucebrey
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Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me. by Saucebrey
Fandoms: PHIGHTING! (Roblox), Roblox (Video Game)
25 Apr 2026
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Summary
Thick fingers struggled as Banhammer tied up the laces to his boots. He grabbed his coat from the rack beside the door, sliding his arms through it before hoisting it over his shoulders. It was going to be cold tonight. And tomorrow, and the day after. According to his phone, it was going to be cold for the entire coming week.
Honestly, it was a shame he was taking that coat with him, because despite what Medkit said, Medkit very clearly did enjoy wearing Banhammer’s clothes, especially that piece. Maybe it was because of the comfy, warm, faux fur pelt on the inside that made it so very insulated and comforting to wear. Or maybe, it was because it smelt like him. Banhammer always liked to imagine it was the latter.
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(A recount of the conversation that made the warden of the Banlands run away.)
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They’ve moved on from the past, and things got better. He just needed to do that too. Especially considering he’s immortal, he was going to have to get used to letting things go. He had to let them go, because they didn’t want to come back. It was better for both of them to be apart. They were sure of it.
Completely and utterly sure. Not even a single doubt. This was the right thing to do. They wouldn’t give up. They were going to push and shove and make sure that Banhammer thought that they were really as disgusting as they seemed.
Until he looked down at them, and didn’t feel pity, or guilt, or whatever form of grief was making him continue to cling to hope, and instead, he’d just feel nothing. If they could, they would erase his memory, so that their childhood never crept back up into their adult life ever again, to the point where not a single living soul remembers the useless snot that they used to be.
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Summary
Banhammer rolled over onto his side, shivering from the sudden cold of the night. Luckily for him, he knew just the thing to warm himself up. His arm reached out over the bed, stretching out to ensure that he could grab Medkit and steal him away to be in his arms. A shiver rippled down his spine. Fucking hell, it was cold.
His arm sleepily flailed about, trying to find his lover, and yet Banhammer just couldn’t seem to reach him. Despite his exhaustion, he cracked open one pair of eyelids, searching for Medkit’s figure in the dark of their room.
But the other half of the bed was empty. The covers pulled down and bunched up, evidence that an escape was made sometime earlier in the night. Banhammer groaned and rolled onto his back, half-tempted to just close his eyes and drift back into sleep.
Unfortunately, he was worried. Despite how much he bullied himself about it, he really did care about Medkit. He loved him too desperately to ignore his absence. And if that wasn’t enough? Banhammer was still cold. Freezing, actually. And keeping Medkit tucked warmly against his chest seemed like too welcoming of an idea for him to give up on it.
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Summary
Banhammer's husband, Medkit, has been missing for a long time. So when he gets a strange message telling him where to go to find him, of course he goes to investigate.
But when things don't go as planned, Banhammer's mother intervenes to try and make her son happy once again. To put all the broken pieces back together again.
An easy fix, when you're an immortal deity. One that will surely not make everything worse.
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Summary
“Medkit, for your crimes against the inphernals of the factions, that include but are not limited to, Aiding and abetting, Burglary, Fraud and involuntary manslaughter, the court of Banland herby sentences you to…”
Medkit stared up at the judge with a blank expression, hearing the charges against him fall onto his ears. He wasn’t proud of the things he did for the church, the things they made him do, but he supposed he did them anyways, and that adds up.
He probably could have gotten away with it too, if he had just stayed with the church, instead of running away and getting arrested so they wouldn’t find him. Prison was far better than death, at least he’d get to live without being constantly used and made to do the church’s dirty work.
At least he’d get to live.
“...Death by the electric chair.”
What.
(Medkit evades fate once again.)