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jbuffyangel · 3 years

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The Domino Falls: Arrow 1x12 Review (Vertigo)

It’s officially 1 year today since Arrow went off the air and I thought what better way to mark the moment than by chatting about the show we all love with a review!

We have begun the slow and steady climb to more Felicity Smoak content

and “Vertigo” is a monumentally HUGE moment in Oliver and Felicity’s relationship. One little meet up at Big Belly Burger is what tips the dominoes over for Oliver Queen.

Let’s dig in...

Olicity

Let’s get right to the good stuff. Of course, there’s other stuff that happened in this episode, but do we care? Only a little. Oliver is on the hunt for The Count – the man responsible for the Vertigo epidemic and Thea’s looming drug trial. The Count is in my Top 5 of best Arrow villains. Of course his first episode coincides with an Olicity milestone. That rat bastard worked the hardest for our ship.

The judge has decided to make an example out of Ms. Queen in hopes of deterring others from trying Vertigo. Seriously, does that ever work?

So, he chucked Thea’s plea agreement right out the window. Big Bro in The Hood is hoping to serve up a bigger fish – THE FISH – to help get his sister off the hook. Oliver is generally anti innocent people dying from illicit drugs, so there are unselfish reasons at play too.

No one knows the identity of The Count, so after roughing up the streets and getting nowhere, Oliver reaches out to Alexi Leonov. We met Leonov in 1x03, but for those who need a refresher - he leads the Starling City chapter of the Bratva. This is the first time Diggle meets Leonov, discovers Oliver speaks Russian, is a captain in the Russian mob, and can fake kill someone.

It was a big day for John.

Leonov sets up the meet with The Count and Oliver attempts to buy some Vertigo off him, sans mask and arrow. The cops show up and Oliver tries to run down The Count as he escapes, but is stabbed in the chest with two syringes full of Vertigo.

Never fear, Oliver has his magic herbs from Lian Yu which apparently can cure drug overdose. (Maybe share with the rest of the world?) Vertigo makes him momentarily murderous (more than usual) and he screams a lot.

THE POINT OF ALL THIS EXPOSITION IS ALL ROADS LEAD TO FELICITY SMOAK.

Diggle and Oliver think it would be wise to have someone analyze the Vertigo… for some reason. This leads our dynamic duo to Queen Consolidated and to our favorite blonde hacker.

Felicity rambles about Oliver’s haggard appearance (re: see drug overdose) and a cat being tased (she connects those disparate dots, I assure you). He offers yet another ridiculous lie and we embark on one of the funniest scenes in Arrow’s history.

Arrow struggled to find its footing for a long time, but “Vertigo” is the beginning of the writers settling on to solid ground. If you ever have to wonder why the show focused on Oliver, Diggle and Felicity as the core characters you only need to watch this scene for the answer.

The chemistry between all the actors is amazing. Arrow is not known for its humor (especially in Season 1), but between Emily Bett Rickard’s perfect delivery of another one of Felicity’s awkward and inadvertent sexual slip ups,

Stephen Amell’s inability to stay in character as he laughs right along with us,

and David Ramsey’s stone cold straight man reaction –

this entire scene is comedy gold.

I vividly remember watching it live, laughing my ass off, and wanting more of EVERYTHING these three have to offer. And that’s exactly what we’re going get.

“I ran out of sports bottles” reigned as Arrow’s funniest scene for a solid two years (until this episode), but it also marks the worst of Oliver’s terrible lies to Felicity. It’s so bad even Diggle has to remark on it in the elevator. Oliver’s lies are horrible, everyone knows Felicity doesn’t buy a word of it, and their need for her help is increasing with every day. Something has to change.

As we discussed in 1x11, Oliver is prone to distrust and very reticent to change his mind – ever. He’s been burned so many times in the past it’s difficult for him to view anyone through a trusting lens.

And yet, Oliver told his deepest and darkest secret to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yes, Diggle had soldier skills Oliver would find useful as a partner. He knew John could hold his own in the field, but it’s not just about his abilities. It was also about the person Diggle is. Oliver did his homework and realized he needed John to survive. There was a wellspring of humanity in John that Oliver wasn’t able to access inside himself. He was subconsciously reaching out for help - like a moth to a flame.

It is the same with Felicity. Yes, Oliver needs her abilities – perhaps even more than what Diggle has to offer. (It’s not like Oliver Queen can’t handle himself in the field). But he is also drawn to Felicity’s warmth, kindness, humor, compassion and openness. Oliver’s heart is encased in iron and welded shut. He doesn’t know how to open it back up. It’s been dark and alone for so long. And yet, Oliver returns again and again to this brightly shining light and why? Because he craves it.

Something has to change. We need that final push, the first domino to fall, so Oliver can make that final step and tell Felicity who he really is. Diggle was easier. He’d fought a war before. Oliver also knew about Andy’s death. Remember – Oliver brought Diggle onboard when he needed help with Deadshot. Manipulative? Yes, but it worked.

Felicity is trickier. I’m sure Oliver has done his research.

Well, yes that kind of research, but also into her background. There’s no dead family member requiring retribution. No war zone she’s recently returned from. She’s an MIT graduate with a penchant for hacking working at a global conglomerate as a wildly overqualified IT tech. The girl doesn’t have so much as a parking ticket. The leap to vigilantism would be rather big.

I also think a fair amount of his hesitancy to involve her in anything related to The Hood is the danger. Diggle can handle himself. Felicity is a different story. Oliver is constantly battling the need for Felicity’s help versus the risk he’s putting her at by asking for it. The lies are to protest Oliver’s secret identity, but also to shield Felicity from it.

Whether it is Oliver’s own distrustfulness, his inability to see an angle to reel Felicity in, his desire to protect her or all three – it doesn’t matter. He continues to lie to her. Oliver isn’t ready to make that big leap either.

Source: yet-i-remain-quiet

Until… Felicity asks to meet him at Big Belly Burger. Oliver waits for her, looking out the window on a rainy night, thinking of Yao Fei.

Oliver feared Yao Fei betrayed him and was really working for Fyers, but neither was true. He convinced Fyers of his loyalty by pretending to kill Oliver. (So that’s who Oliver learned it from!) Yao Fei wakes Oliver just as he rolls his “dead” body into the waterfall. He also slips Oliver a map with a location marked with the words “Survive.”

Oliver doubted his trust in Yao Fei, but in the end was shocked to find out he had it right all along. Yao Fei was exactly who Oliver thought he was – a good man. That final and literal push cemented Oliver’s belief in his friend and to trust his gut.

There will probably always be a debate as to when the writers began the shift towards Olicity. “We DiDn’T dEcIdE uNtIL sEaSoN 2,” is the standard story, but I’m a firm believer it began in Season 1 and often include this scene in my massive pile of evidence. The last scene in the episode either tees up the next or contains a lot of emotional significance. Felicity beings to carve out a lot of final scene time as the series progresses.

The last scene in “Vertigo” is romantically lit with rain drops shimmering on the window. Oliver and Felicity are meeting outside the office and ALONE. Soft instrumental music plays in the background. It feels more intimate than any scene they’ve shared before.

Source: andjustforthismoment

I still cannot get over Oliver “The Sex God” Queen waving at Felicity Smoak like a giddy school boy and then shaking his head over how completely uncool he looked. We watched this man leave a criminal suspended in the air with an arrow through his hand in the first scene and in the last he acts like a puppy. THE RANGE.

It’s clear Felicity is a little nervous as she exhales walking in. Is she nervous to be meeting with Oliver or nervous about what she has to say? Both. She tips her hand a bit by thanking Oliver for meeting her at Big Belly Burger. She did not want to have this discussion at the Queen mansion. (THE PLOT THICKENS).

It seems Oliver and Felicity are having similar conundrums about each other. Felicity is uncertain if she can trust Oliver and has been debating for weeks whether or not to tell him the full truth. SOUND FAMILIAR? Felicity has far more evidence of Oliver’s untrustworthiness. There’s no rambling this time. She lays out the cold hard facts which is Oliver Queen is a big, fat liar and she knows it. He knows it. They both know it. Felicity Smoak is nobody’s fool.

And yet, she trusts him. Even though Oliver has given her no reason to. Even though there are clearly things he’s not telling her. Even though Oliver has yet to show her the same trust. There is something Felicity sees in him which tells her Oliver is worthy of it. It is an unsubstantiated truth. Felicity is going with her gut and her gut says Oliver Queen is a good man.

This doesn’t stop her from asking him the simple question though. Felicity needs that little bit of reassurance before she makes the final leap.

At first, Oliver plays it off in his smarmy, smart ass and flippant way. It’s the Ollie Queen façade that always works with L*urel, Tommy, Lance, Moira and Thea.

It’s an act that’s never worked on Felicity. She sees through it now just like she’s always has. Her smile fades. Felicity breaks eye contact with Oliver and doesn’t hide her disappointment. She is tired of the games and lies. Felicity wants to talk to the real Oliver Queen. That’s the only man she will share this secret with.

All it takes is five seconds of Felicity’s disappointment for Oliver to drop the façade like a hot potato.

He even apologizes and promises Felicity he is worthy of her trust. Then, Felicity lowers the boom and hands him The List.

It is difficult to surprise Oliver Queen, but this one has him reeling. She hands the book to Oliver, the same book Robert gave him, but he hesitates taking it. He has no idea where this is going, so he defaults to his standard operating procedure and lies.

Oliver is not doing a stellar job covering his “my world is upside down” reaction, so I highly doubt Felicity believes him, but she lets it slide for now.

The more information she shares with Oliver the worse it gets. Felicity begins to fill in all the missing pieces to Walter’s disappearance and the guilt is pointing directly at Moira.

This is not the first time Oliver has reason to doubt his mother, but every time he’s able to reason away her involvement in anything nefarious. If he can’t do that on his own then Moira provides very plausible explanations (LIES), which allow Oliver to continuing looking at his family with a blind eye. But this? This is impossible to easily explain away. Particularly since WALTER was beginning to suspect his own wife.

Source: green-arrows-of-karamel

If The List cost Walter his life then Felicity is risking her own by showing it to anyone, particularly a Queen. She is literally putting her life in Oliver’s hands when she handed him that book. The first domino falls, but it’s not Oliver who pushes it over. It’s Felicity. She gives Oliver the truth when he’s given nothing but lies. Felicity trusts him absolutely when he’s done nothing to show he’s deserving of it. She risks everything while Oliver continues to hide everything.

Felicity shocks Oliver no differently than Yao Fei shocked him. We’ve been waiting all this time for Oliver to make that final step and in the end it is Felicity who gives their relationship the necessary push over the waterfall. It’s a cold awakening, but he can see things clearly now. She is like a flashlight illuminating all the answers clouded by his distrustfulness and hesitancy.

Felicity reveals so much of herself in this moment. First, she is willing to take risks if the cause is worth it. Giving Oliver that book took real courage. Second, the girl can keep a secret. She never said boo about anything related to Moira or Walter during Oliver’s little visits. Not even a hint! Three, Felicity Smoak sees clearly all the things Oliver is blind to.

This serves as an important lesson for Oliver. Felicity knows so much more than he ever gave her credit for. Most importantly, his gut was right about her and he was wrong to ever question it. Two mistakes he will never make again.

And now everything will change.

Thea and Moira

I’m not gonna sugar coat this for you guys. I was one hundred percent okay with Thea going to jail. Season 1 Thea is a pain in the ass. A couple episodes with her sitting in the slammer would be a welcomed break from the teenage ‘tude.

L*urel and Lance work out a sweetheart deal for Thea after the judge basically said he would throw the book at her. Thea will serve 500 hours of community service under the watchful gaze of L*urel Lance at CRNI. And Thea flat out refuses.

Now, typically I am a fan of anyone who tells L*urel Lance to go screw herself, but even this was too much for me. Thea wants to go to jail to stick it to her mother because she’s still convinced Moira cheated on Walter.

She didn’t cheat on Walter, Thea! Your mom just kidnapped him. So it’s fine.

Oliver decides to drop the Robert “I’m not the man you think I am” Queen bomb on Thea and tells her their father was a big hoe. Thea refuses to believe him and Moira is ticked because Oliver told the truth. Queens don’t do that EVER.

Moira: He loved you. No matter his faults. He loved you.

Thea wants to know why Moira took all the punishment for Robert’s sins and her answer is very simple. She was trying to protect Thea’s memory of her father. Moira Queen is as shady as they come, but her desire to protect her children is always the driving force of any decisions she makes – good, bad and the ugly.

Moira: One day I hope you’re lucky enough to have a daughter and then you’ll know why.

This is the essence of motherhood. We will serve ourselves up on a platter and take the brunt of their hurt and anger if we believe it protect or help our children in the long run. Right or wrong - it’s just the gig.

Source: queensarrow.

L*urel and Lance

L*urel and Detective Lance are really Thea’s only hope of avoiding significant jail time and, despite their history, Oliver has no problem groveling at their feet if it means protecting his sister. Luckily for Oliver, this week L*urel likes him, so she’s willing to do Thea a favor.

But her reason for wanting to help Thea turns out have very little to do with Oliver. It’s about Sara. When L*urel looks at Thea she sees all the wild abandon of Sara with all the red flags.

L*urel: For so long you and I have blamed Oliver for Sara's death, but Sara is to blame too.

Detective Lance isn’t too keen on helping Oliver or Thea, but L*urel calls out her father on his hypocrisy. He had no qualms about bailing Sara out after she shop lifted. The youngest Lance daughter seemed to get herself in to trouble long before she ever stepped onto the Queen’s Gambit and her father always helped her avoid the consequences of her actions. Until those consequences finally caught up with her.

This is the first time L*urel lays any blame at Sara’s feet. I find it wildly disturbing whenever I agree with L*urel, but damn it she has this one right. Oliver wasn’t the only one who cheated. Oliver wasn’t the only one who lied. Oliver wasn’t the only one who was selfish. Sara was all of those things too. Just because she paid for those mistakes with her life doesn’t erase the choices she made and the pain she caused. If someone held Sara responsible without destroying her life, like L*urel is trying to do with Thea just maybe she would have never gotten on the boat. Maybe.

The game of “What if?” is a torturous one. It never gives any definitive answers. But Detective Lance refusing to help Thea to stick it to Oliver isn’t fair. L*urel is right. Sure, it may hurt Oliver, but it won’t bring Sara back.

More importantly, it doesn’t hold Sara responsible in any way. Detective Lance is treating Sara the same in death as he did in life. She wasn’t a saint anymore than Thea is – no matter how much Lance romanticizes his memory of his daughter. L*urel and her father don’t resolve the Sara issue, but Lance helping Thea is an important step towards his acknowledgement of the truth and putting some of the blame where it belongs.

Stray Thoughts

Oliver is shirtless and handcuffed in the bunker is an absolutely wasted opportunity for an Olicity sex scene. Pretty sure I read a fic that started like it though. Source: @olivergifs

Bratva Oliver is cold, calculating and stylish. I don’t know what it is about that jacket you guys. It doesn’t things to me.

I say this as a person who was very anti murder throughout the show, but sometimes it’s great to watch Oliver do a little violence.

“Whoever you fear, fear me more!” As vigilante lines go this was a damn good one.

“I’m not the one going to prison.” Give it time, Moira. Give it time.

McKenna Hall makes her first episode appearance as the rotation of female guest stars continues while show desperately searches for a love interest Stephen has chemistry because it ain’t Katie Cassidy. (Psst! You found THE ONE already!!! Call off the search!)

Just for you multifandom folks out there McKenna is also Qetsiyah on The Vampire Diaries.

Why doesn’t Oliver give a sketch to the police of The Count? That could be helpful.

“I don’t need the bow.” Yeah, but you need to walk straight!

Musings of the Kiddo

Kiddo: How many times does he do this to her?

Me: Lie? A lot. She was very patient with him.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 2 of 3 | His POV)

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Still disoriented by the hug, the skeleton finds it difficult not to spare a glance at the human every so often. Though the train's near empty and it allows for some space between him and (Y/N), he still feels too close to them. It was rare for people to find a way to pay back at him for his constant joking around, and he's quite frankly bummed over learning Frisk had told on him. Though he wasn't one to use the same joke on two different people, he wanted to go a similar route with at least one of Frisk's parents, just to see how much they were alike to their child. As results of his defeat, he can only try to strike up another conversation with them while the train makes it to his stop.

"Frisk told me they lived with you only," he says, breaking the ice. "How's it like being a single parent? If you're, well... single, I mean."

He almost wants the ground to eat him up and spit him back to the Underground with how blunt he'd been just now. And while it wasn't intentional, his question along with the text messages from earlier made him feel as if he was involuntarily flirting with the human. Thankfully, they don't show an immediate reaction, and when they do react, it's followed with a smile.

"It's a bit tough sometimes, but… I'd say as long as you raise your child well and that you enjoy what you're doing, then it can be pretty rewarding." Warmth softens (Y/N)'s eyes and they appear vulnerable for just a moment. "I've raised Frisk on my own since they were a newborn, and it's been nice to see how far they've gone." The human stops talking to stare at him for a second; it's a second that takes far too long for his liking, and one where he feels as if he's being judged just as stern and ruthless as he once was during his time at the Underground. "Are you a father yourself? Your... question kind of makes me think that."

First the hug, and now this.

The kid's parent really knew how to give him frequent, near-death experiences, it seems.

"Uh…" Words stay stuck in his metaphorical throat, until he finally replies with, "No, but I hadda take responsibility over my bro when we were younger." He rubs the back of his neck and looks away from them, their eyes being far too attentive for his taste. "But I'd say it's nothin' compared to being a real parent, though."

"Don't sell yourself short," they say, nudging his shoulder. "I'd like to meet your brother someday. What's his name?"

"Papyrus -- the one you mentioned earlier."

"Do you have pictures?"

It's almost impossible for him not to be amused at how excited they seem all of a sudden, yet he fights back a chuckle, not wanting for it to be taken the wrong way. He proceeds to search through his phone for a picture of his brother, stopping when he finds one with Frisk in it, too. "Here he is," he says, holding the phone out for them.

He scoots back as subtly as he can manage when they move a bit closer, ending the space of one seat once left between each other. Now, he sits right beside them, and he begins to wonder over how normal it is for a human to be this way; open and chatty. Surely, and just like how every other monster type was different in their own way, then humans had to have similar differences, too. As a result, Sans tries not to let (Y/N)'s sudden proximity get to him and ignores the weird feeling in his non-existent gut when he meets a bit closer with their face, greeted with intrigued eyes and an equally curious smile. "He's so grown up already. I honestly thought he'd be younger based on what you and Frisk told me!"

They move back a little, finally allowing him space to let out a breath and contemplate just what was that weird feeling from earlier ago; the monster couldn't possibly have developed a crush already, and it was far too silly and farfetched to even think about. Simply fooling around a little through text and having them hug him to backfire his prank wasn't near enough for any sort of attraction to build up yet. He tries to tell himself that time after time again, though he can't forget the gentleness of their touch when pulling him in for that hug, nor can he ignore how blatant and bold he'd been with them through texts. Still, if anything had to be fueling those feelings of his, it had to be the sheer lack of contentment he'd been experiencing as of recent, deeming him more vulnerable when it came to making and maintaining new relationships with others.

Sans was down, and while he didn't want to admit it, he needed to go back to some sort of routine and professional counseling to get him back on track. Even Frisk had seen him at his worst at one point, going as far as to admit he'd given up, yet now he's here again, and with the company of their primary caregiver, to boot. The human's eyes stay on him even as he stores the phone away, incrementing the same strange feeling from before.

"How do you feel being out here now?" they ask. "If you lived underground, I'm guessing up here's much warmer, right? …Or at least most of it, I expect!" They seem to recall something and take a quick moment to gather their thoughts. "Your contact information said you worked in Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland. Is… Is the name Hotland true to its name?"

"Very," he says, chuckling. "And Snowdin and Waterfall, too." He knows he's not making eye contact anymore, so he tries to look at them again, but can't bring himself to no matter how many times he tries. "That's actually part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

The human nods with a smile, signaling for him to carry on speaking. The monster finally manages to look at them directly, aware this was most likely the last time they would smile at him after he told the truth about all the stuff that took place back at the Underground. Surely, and just as he suspected was something (Y/N) wanted to talk with him about, a parent wouldn't feel too fond knowing most of his kind had tried to hurt and chase after their child at one point. He's already anticipating an inevitable downfall in the barely-relationship he has with them, but that doesn't stop him from trying to make himself acquainted with them before any of that ever came to be a reality.

"I was wonderin' if you wanted to see what it's like down there," he says, setting those thoughts out to rest. "It could help you understand your kid's journey better, and you could also learn more about my kind, too."

When their smile grows, he almost feels a pang of guilt reach the very center of his ribcage. Knowing he'd hit it off well with them and knowing it wouldn't last long made him feel worse at every second he kept secret all the mistakes his kind made on their own. "I'd love to," they reply, eyes almost lighting up in joy. "So I assume you would be the one showing me there, then?" Sans nods and watches as they rummage something from their pocket, retrieving a notepad and pen; both are patterned with bunnies all over, a sight that makes the monster wonder if that stationary was a gift from Frisk. "That reminds me," they add, offering both items out to him. "Could you tell me if I'm missing anyone on this list?" He takes the items and ignores when their fingers brush with his, just as gentle as the hug felt. "It's supposed to be all the monsters Frisk made friends with there."

"Sure," he says, flipping the notepad open. A grin returns to his face when he remembers just how many friends Frisk made back there, and how many more they would've likely made had they met the monsters on different terms, and had they stayed at the Underground for longer than they had. "It's gonna be one helluva list, though -- Kid made more friends than I can count."

They cover up a laugh, saying, "Didn't you used to be a scientist? I'm sure you know way more math than me."

"Maybe that's why it says past scientist 'stead of former?"

Though Sans had been joking around himself, he sees a frown fall on the human's face, a sudden change of expression followed by them shifting on their seat. "I'm sorry," they say, meeting his irises. "That was a rude question, wasn't it? It's… It's not exactly polite to bring up a stranger's past like that, isn't it?"

"I mean, yeah, but…" He pauses to observe their change in expression, far too concerned over something so trivial. "I'm okay with being honest, and that's exactly why I'm here, anyway." Their distressed expression stays intact, showing they barely took his words as true. "There's a lotta stuff I could've done and approached differently during my time at the Underground, and now I wanna change that." He doesn't know why he's running his mouth now, but one thing's for certain, and it's that he wants to keep on talking. If he was the judgment card out of all the major arcana, the human sitting next to him had to be either the tower or the hermit. "Maybe I can't tell you all about it right now, but there's a lotta stuff I need to clear up and come clean about before we can get to know each other better."

The train halts and the doors open, his stop finally marking itself on the screen. Only two of the few other people present stand up, and him and (Y/N) are the last two to exit. He walks with them side by side, continuing with the conversation until he finds the place he'd be inviting them over to.

------------------------------

Finally there, Sans goes with the human to a diner both Grillby and Muffet were jealous of, and just by stepping into the building, he can already tell why. It smells heavenly, its interiors look straight out of a home renovation magazine, and it's bustling with people, but it's still spacious enough not to make the surroundings feel stuffy or cramped. Most occupied tables have a room with a view sort of attraction, large glass panes allowing customers to observe the inner workings of the mall from the comfort of their seat and a cheap and warm meal. As a consequence, there's a couple of empty tables left farther away, these having the privacy of low lighting and no windows nearby, a spot more than adequate for the conversation he would soon have with Frisk's parent. He points at it with his irises and tells them to sit there while he goes to make both orders at the counter.

"Aren't we splitting the bill?" they ask, a hand already searching around for their wallet.

"I made the invite, so it's only fair I pay," he replies, winking at them. "Besides, after what we're gonna talk about here, you'll probably be mad enough to never talk to me again."

"How does that correlate with us not splitting the bill?" They quirk a brow, smile, and take a seat at the empty table nonetheless. "And who says that? We haven't even gotten to talk about anything too serious yet."

He laughs. "Believe me when I say the situation down there was a big ol', complicated mess." His gaze wanders to the counter, seeing only a line of two people waiting for their turn. "So here's to hopin' a lunch with you and treating you to it makes things a lil' bit less tense between us."

"You're trying to bribe me with food, is what you're saying?" Their smile grows and they relax on their seat.

He snickers. "Depends on how ya look at it, pal."

With that, he leaves the human at the table and goes off to the ordering line, setting the topic aside from his mind to focus on making the orders and taking the correct amount of currency used at the Surface. It takes no longer than five minutes for it to be his turn, though when it's time to finally say both orders, he freezes and so does the cashier when he looks at the table Sans had just walked out from. The name tag on the man's uniform shows to be a familiar last name; it's the only other last name besides (Y/N)'s found in Frisk's full name. 'Jerry', his first name reads, the owner of the name being a six foot tall hunk with tanned skin, plenty of muscle, blond hair, a sharp jawline, and every other feature one could expect out of the typical jock character seen in some American movies he often found thrown at the Underground's dumpster, source from where Alphys got her anime, Mettaton his glamour, and Napstablook their music.

The man's customer service smile falls to a near death stare when he meets with Sans's gaze, his glare and height enough to make the monster feel cornered.

"Is that (Y/N) over there?" Jerry asks, pointing with his eyes over to where they sit at. "What's a guy like you doing with my ex?"

Sans grins, resists the urge to roll his irises, and lifts his gaze up higher, not wanting to be towered over by the man behind the counter. "What about you, pal? That ex you're talkin' about, Frisk, and even CPS have been lookin' everywhere for ya. And now you jus' suddenly appear outta nowhere?"

"Oh, that's real damn rich coming from a guy who threatened my kid with death."

Oh.

Oh no.

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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elvendara · 3 years

Note

YOORAN WITH 😋

Man this took way too long! Sorry! I used to be able to churn these out! LOL Ah, life, the greatest leech of PASSION!

TEEHEE

“I can’t see a damned thing!” Saeran squinted through the windshield. The wipers were going a mile a minute, but it was pouring so hard it was like driving through a waterfall.

“Hold on, there’s a motel less than a mile out.” Yoosung huddled over his phone, not wanting to look out the window at all.

“Motel?” Saeran sneered.

“I know, but it’s going to be like this all night.” Yoosung said then screamed as oncoming lights barely missed them. Saeran jerked the wheel and the tires spun, swerving the car back and forth before he was able to regain control.

“Motel it is.” Saeran said as he slowly pressed the gas pedal.

It took almost ten minutes for them to get to the exit, and another five to make it to the motel. Yoosung’s ears burned listening to the explitives coming out of Saeran’s mouth. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled up to the Motel.

“I’ll run in.” Saeran said. He left the car running and dashed to the office. He was soaked as he stepped inside and shook himself like a dog. His red hair was plastered to his head and he wiped the bangs out of his green eyes.

The teenager behind the counter picked his phone up and took a picture as he laughed.

“Haha! Just give me a room! Two beds or two rooms with one bed. Whatever you have.” Saeran walked in, his shoes squishing with every step.

“Sorry bro, I’ve only got one room left, it’s the smallest. Been getting lots of people pulling over tonight.”

“Fine. I’ll take it.” Saeran said, handing over his credit card. The teenager snickered but took the payment and had him sign a guest book.

“Have a great night.” The boy sneered.

Saeran yanked the keys from his hand and glared at him as he walked away. Taking a deep breath and hunching over he opened the door and ran back to the car.

“Oh.” Yoosung’s eyes were wide as he took in Saeran’s drenched form.

“Not a word.” Saeran growled. Yoosung bit his lip and clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t laugh. He tossed the key to Yoosung and asked for the number on it.

“Nine.” Yoosung said and squinted through the barrage, trying to see the numbers on the doors. They found the door but had to park further away because there were cars in front of it.

“Ready?” Saeran asked after he turned the car off.

“No.” Yoosung answered.

Without another word Saeran threw open his door and he sprinted to the overhang. It wasn’t much better under there. He hugged the wall all the way to the door before he realized that Yoosung had the key. He turned to watch Yoosung dash towards him, his blond hair drenched, looking longer than normal as the product he used to make it fluffy rinsed out completely in the deluge. He reached Saeran and thrust the key into the lock. They tumbled through the door and slammed it shut behind them.

“Fuck!” Saeran said. Yoosung nodded in agreement.

They began to shiver, and both walked towards the small bathroom.

“Uh…” Yoosung let Saeran step into the bathroom. The red head climbed into the tub and began to undress.

“There’s room in here, come on, you need to get out of your clothes too.” Saeran said. Yoosung shook himself. Of course it wasn’t a big deal to get naked. They were friends. It wasn’t like neither of them had never seen a naked man before. He peeled the wet clothes off him and wrung them out in the sink then tossed them where he could find space enough so that they would hopefully be dry by morning. Saeran had used the shower rod to do the same with his cothes.

The red head grabbed two towels from the shelf above the toiled but when he unfolded them he just laughed. He tossed one to Yoosung and he too grinned. There was no hiding behind the small towels. They used them to dry off their bodies and as much of their hair as they could.

“I guess we sleep naked.” Yoosung said, not able to look at Saeran at all.

“Not a problem.” Saeran walked out, still drying his hair he stopped and stared at the single bed. It wasn’t that it was just one, it was that it was small. Not much bigger than a twin. “Shit.”

“What?” Yoosung looked over his shoulder. “Oh.”

“Not sure how comfortable that’s going to be.” Saeran said.

“Well, uh, I can sleep on the floor I guess.” There was nowhere else to sleep, not even a recliner or stuffed chair. There was a tiny desk and stool in the room, nothing else. Not even a television. Not that they were in the mood to watch anything. Yoosung was exhausted. The last hour had been anxiety building.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll be tight, but I’m sure it’ll be more comfortable than the floor.” Saeran tossed the towel on the desk and pulled the cover off and onto the floor. “Not gonna’ touch that.” He then pulled the sheet down and Yoosung tried to keep his lavender eyes on the bed and not Saeran’s skin. He quickly went around the other side of the bed and jumped in, pulling the sheet over himself before his growing erection could be seen. Saeran arched his eyebrow but said nothing. He slid into the other side of the bed and they turned back-to-back.

“Good night Yoosung.” Saeran said, closing his eyes, intimately aware of their asses touching.

“Good night.” Yoosung could barely speak, his body breaking out in goosebumps.

“Are you cold?” Saeran asked, feeling the shivering coming off Yoosung.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Yoosung lied, trying to control his body.

“I can grab the blanket. It’s pretty light but might be enough to warm you up.” Saeran offered.

“Uh, no, I agree with you, I doubt there is anything good on that blanket.” He tried to laugh.

“OK, well then.” Saeran turned to face Yoosung and pressed himself against his back.

“What are you doing?” Yoosung squeeled.

“Settle down, just trying to warm you up.”

“Well…it’s working…I mean…uh…oh god!” Yoosung buried his head in the pillow and pulled the sheet over his face. Saeran chuckled.

“Am I making you nervous?” he whispered right into his ear. Yoosung yelped and jumped out of bed.

“You’re doing that on purpose!” he accused, fists on his hips. There was a bright flash of lightning, illuminating the room, easily showing the reaction Saeran had on him. Saeran’s green eyes traveled down Yoosung’s body and noticed before Yoosung yelped again and turned around, trying to hide himself.

“Looks like you’re wide awake now.” Saeran teased.

Yoosung’s shoulders slumped, and he could feel tears of embarrassment sting his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Saeran said softly shuffling to a sitting position on the bed. “Get back in bed Yoosung. I won’t try anything, I promse. I’m tired, you’re tired. Let’s just go to sleep, OK?”

Yoosung sighed, what other choice did he have anyway? He slid back into bed and let Saeran put his arm around him. He could feel his breath on his neck, but it was comforting. They fit against each other like a puzzle. He could feel Saeran’s erection but true to his word, he didn’t try anything. Yoosung wasn’t sure he was glad or sad about that.

When he was finally close to falling asleep, listening to Saeran’s even breathing, he felt a kiss on his shoulder. It was soft and quick, sending a shiver down his spine. He turned sleepily to face the other man, his eyes were closed, lips parted. Yoosung wrapped an arm around his waist, enjoying the feel of soft skin beneath his fingertips. They touched a scar and ran the length of it. His eyes closed, and he fell into dreams filled with romance and sensuality, and Saeran.

#my posts #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #ONE BED #mysme #mystic messenger #lots of nakedness #no lemons #sorry #poor Yoosung!#You have no idea what you do to him Saeran!#YOORAN FOREVER!!!!!!#bortzy

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Previous part (as well as fan art and fic?!) can be found here

Chp 12

Character: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), Padme Amidala, Bail Organa

Warnings: idiots in love, mild pining

Summary: The one where Fox knows what to expect but is still incensed when it happens. Bail Organa is a good bro to everyone. Padme Amidala is rocking motherhood and is not so subtle in her matchmaking attempt.

A/N: I apologized in advance but your gonna see that I'm working to make things better I promise! As always thanks to my lovelies @skdubbs @crimson-dxwn and @thelastbattlecry for being my sounding boards/betas/listening ears.

-----------------

Naboo was beautiful. Not in the way that a rare gem or a fancy painting was, where one appreciated their grandeur because that was expected. Where they were looked at clinically and picked apart for sport.

No, Naboo was beautiful in a way that made Mouse's heart clench. The overwhelming majesty of the lakes and waterfalls bringing a tear to her eyes the first time she’d laid eyes on them. She’d never seen so much water, so much green. She could scarcely believe she wasn’t experiencing a fever dream in the claustrophobic bacta tank back on Coruscant. Even now, after two months, the view from the Naberrie’s Lake home (more like a palace than any home Mouse has ever imagined) gave her pause.

It was, in short, heaven.

The summer months had left the temperature near to perfect and the waters had receded from the great pastoral valleys, leaving them open for exploration, picnics and gathering wildflowers.

Mouse found herself sleeping most nights with the door to the small balcony off her room open, the not so far-off sound of running water lulling her to sleep. The nightmares had not gone, a twisted version of a reality she’d lived, but she rarely woke up screaming anymore. Instead she came to with a racing heart and thin sheen of sweat decorating her skin. She was haunted by the voice of Palpatine, the flash of light as Fox fires on her, the image of him being lifted and strangled by the force wielding Anakin Skywalker. It still happens like clockwork, the dreams. She just no longer has it in her to scream.

The senator had noticed the deep circles under her eyes quickly. She was a good woman, Padm��, and while Mouse was unsure whether she’d call her a friend just yet she did know she enjoyed speaking with her. Upto the birth of the babies, they’d taken daily walks, short sojourns along the estate’s lands. It was often the time Padmé had her husband speaking with his healer. Mouse was eternally grateful, as she wasn’t comfortable in the Jedi’s presence. To have him walking with them through the millaflower fields would have soured the experience. She liked to think Padmé realized such things without her saying it. When she did speak of her husband, there was a carefulness to her words, as if she had to think each one out to paint him in his best light. Mouse hasn’t spoken about Fox to anyone, and she wonders if she did would she feel the need to tread carefully? She doesn’t think she would.

Mouse's relationship with Padmé changes after the birth of the babies a short two months after their arrival.

Luke and Leia join the galaxy on a stiflingly hot night during high summer. Heat lightning flashes and grumbles in the distance as the doctor works to bring the children safely into the world. They hadn’t planned for two. Anakin paced the room, like an agitated Nexu, checking in with his wife after each pass. Staff and visitors were at a minimum, so Mouse volunteered to help as she could. It was still a state of the art set-up, one fit for a former queen, senator, and much loved daughter of Naboo. There was little to be done but sit at the Senator’s side and blot her head with a cool cloth while she worked, grunting and pushing through the labor like tackling an obstacle in her way on the senate floor.

Leia comes first, a squalling indignant thing already full of life and the need to tell everyone about it. The nurse attending offers her to Anakin while Padmé continues to labor. Mouse sees the fear in his eyes as he shakes his head, his eyes already trailing back to his wife. Mouse holds the bundle of blankets and moves out of the way, gesturing for the young Jedi to take her place near his wife.

“She needs you.” She says softly, fighting back the urge to tremble in his presence.

“Ani?” Padmé’s voice rings out, for the first time uncertain. That’s all Skywalker needs to go to her side.

Mouse watches as he takes her hand in his, kisses her fingers, tells her she’s doing great, that she’ll be fine. It feels voyeuristic watching them so she focuses on the little girl in her arms, who stares up with bright blue eyes. Mouse melts.

Luke is the wildcard, the surprise no one knew to expect. He’d been hiding behind his sister until just days ago when her last scan had shown an extra heartbeat and an extra head. Now he was malpositioned and the doctor has to manually correct it. Padmé makes an awful, wounded noise but pushes nonetheless when she’s finally given the clear to. The boy makes his entrance as a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky and the lights flicker. He’s quiet, and smaller than his minutes-older sister. There’s a tense period where he makes no sound at all, and a collective breath is held until he begins to make a soft plaintive noise before he’s laid against his mother’s chest. Mouse offers the wrapped baby to the nurse and she soon joins her brother. Mouse has to turn away as Anakin leans in and kisses his wife.

When she sleeps that night there is no nightmare. She dreams of her own swollen belly, a baby kicking away while Fox’s strong arms wrap around her middle and hold her protectively. She can feel his full lips as they press against her temple. She can feel the rumble of his voice.

The beginning of our family, cyar’ika.

She wakes with a choked sob and doesn’t sleep the rest of the night.

—-

“Run it by me again, Chancellor.”

It felt like they’d been in the black forever. The jump to the small outer rim was no milk run. Fox glances out the window again as they break atmo and the black of space turns to the bright blue of Naboo’s sky. He was ready to be off the ship. He’d never tell his brothers, would rather die than admit it, but he hated hyperspace travel. It wasn’t just the jump in or the fall out of it either. It was the whole damn thing. It was unnatural. He was meant to have his feet on terra and that was all there was to it.

The itinerary had them making a quick stop in Theed to take on supplies, then another bit of travel - this time in the blue instead of the black - to reach their destination, the Lake District.

“Commander, relax. This is a pleasure cruise,” Bail enthuses smoothly, “nothing to worry about.”

“Then why me and not one of the other boys? Thire would have been fine for this.”

Bail rolls his eyes. “Thire is a stick in the mud and I much prefer your company and conversation.” Bail explains “I’m going to spend a couple days doting on my new godchildren and discussing a few matters with their lovely Senator mother, some of which you may have strong opinions about that deserve being heard.”

The last bit grabs Fox’s attention. “I don’t remember that being mentioned.”

“Oh I didn’t mention that some of your brothers will be meeting us for an impromptu - and off the books - meeting on clone personhood?”

Fox purses his lips undercover of his bucket. “No you hadn’t sir.”

Fox had learned quickly that Bail Organa’s style of governance was worlds different from the previous chancellors. The secrets Sidious kept had been dangerous to the republic, his vode and the Jedi in particular while Bail’s all seemed fairly benign and were really only used to surprise and throw Fox from a dour mood.

“Well it seems I must have forgotten to put it on the official itinerary for our visit.” The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief.

“It seems you did, sir. I suppose it’s already been planned. It would be a shame to lose out on such an important meeting.”

Personhood. That was one of those dreams all clones shared but few ever mentioned. It seemed silly that it should even be an issue to begin with. If none survived the war it was a useless conversation to have, wasn't it? Now, with Sidious no longer pulling his dark strings, the Seppies were beginning to fall apart. They’d already fallen on Felucia and Utapau. General Grievous was dead and Count Dooku had gone to ground, but he couldn’t stay hidden forever. Maybe the idea of life after war wasn’t such a dream. It was tangibly within reach.

“Who’s joining us for this little shindig?”

Bail smirks again, “I’ve left the guest list to the Marshall Commander’s discretion.”

Fox can’t hide the excitement in his voice, “Cody?” It has been ages since he’d seen his ori’vod. Before the second battle of Geonosis and well before Mouse had -

Mouse.

Because that was a wound that refused to heal. Kriff - it wouldn’t even scab over! It merely festered and hurt like nothing else Fox had ever felt. Whoever had said out of sight, out of mind needed to keep their head on a swivel because Fox was pretty sure if he ever saw them he’d break their jaw.

Mouse was still a guest of the Senator’s. He wasn’t proud to say he’d been keeping tabs, but it was one of the only things that kept his anxiety at bay when it came to her. Unlike with Fives, the bottle didn’t seem to do it. The pair of times he’d taken to finding out what was in the bottom of a bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d found nothing but nightmares and guilt.

Bail gives him a smile as the ship comes in for a landing, the capital of Theed rising up around them, always warm and inviting.

Fox vows to try not to think of seeing Mouse. He breaks it in five minutes.

——

To say Padmé Amidala’s wardrobe was expansive was an understatement. Like saying Coruscant was home to a lot of people.

What had once been an entire guest suite had been turned into a makeshift dressing room and closet for the former queen. Padmé was unapologetic in regards to the sheer amount of clothing she possessed, explaining that it had been expected she never wear the same outfit twice and that, honestly, she just really liked clothes.

It made her more human in Mouse’s eyes, less like the self-possessed politician and more like the young woman she was underneath all the finery.

Mouse supports little Leia’s head as she dozes in the sling across her chest while Padmé does the same, bouncing slightly from side to side on her toes to calm a fussy Luke.

“How about this one?” Padmé questions, pointing to an ornate, layered gown. It reminds Mouse of a confection, fluffy and frosted with layers upon layers of petal pink fabric.

“A bit much for a dinner party? You think?”

Mouse had never had much in the way of fine things, had never really needed them, but when Padmé mentioned that the new Chancellor would be coming and she would really like her to come to the dinner she’d had Mouse help plan, well she really couldn’t say no. Now it was important to find something to wear. It seemed since Padmé was not quite ready to leave the concealing gowns of her early pregnancy behind, Mouse bore the burden of her need to dress and accessorize.

Padmé hums quietly to Luke as he begins to drift off. “You’re probably right. Maybe something a little smaller, more cocktail appropriate?”

Mouse isn’t entirely sure what that entails but she nods in agreement. She’s discovered that even a month and a half postpartum Padmé was still a force to be reckoned with when she got on something. Motherhood hadn’t softened her drive - if anything, it had brought it to new heights as she made plans and strived to make the galaxy a place where her children could grow and thrive.

They’d been spending more time together, Mouse becoming a makeshift mother’s helper while Padmé balanced new motherhood and keeping up with her senatorial duties. Anakin, Padmé had confided, was slow to take to fatherhood and while he seemed to love the twins, he became frustrated easily. He’d increased his visits with the healer, but Padmé wondered if part of it was the loss of Jedi Order. General Kenobi had visited a handful of times since they’d arrived, but Padmé worried it wasn’t the same.

She didn’t mention Sidious but when she spoke of betrayal and upheaval Mouse knew what she spoke of.

She felt bad thinking it, but Mouse wasn’t unhappy with the children’s father’s absence. His nearness to her still left her uncomfortable and remembering the way his eyes had glowed amber and the hate that had been etched into his features as he’d used the force to-

“Remind me again why this is important?” she asks as the new mother begins pulling out more dresses. Mouse works Leia from the sling and cradles her near while she ambles over to her nearby bassinet. Leia was the simpler of the two babies while Luke seemed to require a bit more coddling from his mother. She wondered in the personality differences between the two. She places a thin blanket over the sleeping babe before going back to the pile of dresses that had been laid out.

She holds a deep emerald green dress in front of her and Padme's brows knit together assessingly. “Next,” she chirps as Mouse grabs a blue dress that shimmers in the light flooding through the room's large windows. “Maybe pile. Definitely. Tonight is important because I said it’s important,” Padmé says digging back in the closet. “Obi and Cody arrived earlier this morning.” She glances one more time before sitting on a nearby settee. Luke is awake and beginning to fuss and Padmé quickly works open the front of her dress to allow the hungry infant to nurse. “Have you met General Secura?”

Mouse shakes her head ‘no.’ She’d heard of the twi’lek though and wonders if she might ask her some questions she had. She’d begun sponsoring little Me’kar and wondered what it would take to keep a child of another species in touch with her own heritage if she were to be adopted by a human. Not that she’d been thinking about adoption-

“You’ll like her. Her Commander Bly will be with her. They’re very… close.”

Mouse can read between the lines. Close. Close like she and Fox had been maybe? More so? She’d heard battle forged bonds that were unbreakable, maybe it also could form a love connection that could withstand the burdens of both war and the Jedi’s vows.

She and Fox hadn’t had anything so deep.

She tries the lie on herself again. It still doesn’t sit true. Maybe another hundred times and she’d start believing it.

“The Chancellor will be here in a few hours-“ As Padmé continues to speak, Mouse digs through the pile. A red dress, slick and satin smooth catches her eyes. The skirt feels cool under her fingers. Padmé stops mid sentence as Mouse works it from the pile. The neck is scooped shallow from shoulder to shoulder across where her collar bone would be and a thin golden chain connects the apex of the straps and offers to drape and dip low between her shoulder blades. It would do little to hide the scars on her left arm and shoulder, but Mouse wasn’t self conscious of them the way most would think. Though she could never speak of their true nature she didn't once regret them.

“- seven hells... I forgot about that one. It’s perfect,” Padmé enthuses, again reminding Mouse of truly how close in age they actually were. “Please, pick that one?” Luke grumbles as his mother’s bouncing interrupts his meal. “Hush sweetling,” she soothes.

“It is very pretty.” Mouse hums quietly as she holds the dress in front of her and turns in front of the mirror.

“Some earrings, a pendant maybe… oh a tiara!”

“Earrings will be fine I think.” Mouse can feel her cheeks heating up. Padmé chuckles softly. “What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that color matches the Coruscant Guard colors perfectly. I wonder what Commander Fox will think of it?”

Mouse feels the color drain from her face. Her voice comes out as an ungainly wheeze, “Fox?”

“Yeah, have you met?” Padmé is giving her a wondering look. “He’s not as bad as people make him out to be.”

“Oh- uh- we’ve met.”

“Really?”

There’s a twinkle in the senator’s eye, something that clues Mouse into the fact that the woman in front of her just maybe wasn’t as clueless to the state of her relationship with the Guard Commander as she let on.

“It’ll be nice to catch up or something won’t it?”

Mouse nods. Or something.

——

Fox feels a little cheated. All the times he’d accompanied Senator Amidala to her home world not once had she brought him to the Lake District. The Chancellor looks at home, unswayed by the beauty as he marches through the open halls with confidence. Maybe it was because he was Alderaanian, Fox thinks. He’s never seen the Chancellor’s home but he’d heard its beauty was unrivaled. After taking a glance out the tall transparisteel window looking out directly at one of a half dozen waterfalls he’s sure that it can’t be true.

“Sir? Should we wait for an escort?” Fox asks as Bail takes a sharp turn down another hall.

“No worries, Commander. If I know Padmé she’ll have set up shop in her office. The day is still young and she’ll be hard at work.”

“Sir, she’s just had a baby- two babies. Surely she’ll be taking it easy.”

Bail barks out a very unchancellor like laugh before he levels his eyes at Fox. “If she’s not in her office, I’ll eat my boots for dinner.”

“Laces and all?” Fox can’t help the way the corner of his mouth draws up, though he tries to smother it. Bail raps the back of his knuckles twice across the armor of Fox’s chest before pointing one finger at his face, his own smile broad and for the world to see.

“See, I knew that stick wasn’t as far up your ass as everyone says.”

“Don’t go telling everyone. I’ve got a image to maintain.”

Bail’s bark of laughter echoes down the hall. “And this is why you’re here and not Thire.”

It was new and fascinating to see the Chancellor in this different light, more relaxed than he ever was on Coruscant with its many eyes and wagging tongues. Not for the first time since he’s begun working closely with the Alderaanian, Fox thinks that he truly does enjoy his company.

Fox adjusts his bucket under his arm, hesitates for a moment as to whether he should replace it or continue to carry it. He’s not sure of the proper protocol in this situation. It was one he’d never been prepped for back on Kamino. What was one to do when addressing a senator on maternity leave in her palatial lake house?

He decides to leave it off and immediately wishes he’d put it on as they push through large wooden doors into the senators office. Like everything else, it’s beauty is unimagined. Sumptuous wooden bookcases filled with flimsy tomes fill the shelves, natural light spills in from windows showing off a pristine late afternoon lake with the sun just beginning to set behind the waterfalls surrounding it.

All of that fails to capture his attention because there’s his Mouse swaying gently from side to side smiling down at a cooing baby. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with tiny tendrils escaping, framing her face in fly-aways.

Karking Naboo could get sucked up by a black hole for all he cares. Mouse is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sun spilling across the room.

She looks so relaxed, so natural cooing to the infant in her arms - until she looks up and catches him staring.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t the look of surprise, her eyes thrown wide before cool indifference washes over her.

This wasn’t a holoromance. She wasn’t going to run into his arms and he wasn’t going to dip her low, kiss her passionately, and promise undying love. Not that he hadn’t thought it in that perfect split second moment of her inattention.

She holds the baby close, protectively as Bail moves to embrace Senator Amidala, herself holding an infant.

“Bail!” The young senator’s smile could light the senate halls for a standard rotation. “It’s so good to see you. I was just finishing up.” Fox pulls his eyes away from Mouse long enough to assess the amount of flimsy and datapads stacked across the senators desk. She was nowhere near done.

“And Commander Fox!”

He startles slightly as the petite force of nature insinuates herself in front of him.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Have you seen Cody yet? I know he was pleased when he heard you’d come.”

Fox shakes his head, his eyes drawing magnetically back to Mouse. He used to be able to read her like one of the flimsy books on the senators shelves but now? Now he doesn’t know what he’s seeing, a whole new language he has no experience translating .

“Commander” she offers after a moment, her voice tight but bright in a forced kind of way, “it’s good to see you. You look well.”

Fox swallows hard. “As do you. I hope your stay has been well?”

The infant in her arms turns and roots against the top of the plain dress she’s wearing and Mouse turns her attention away from him, mumbling some pleasantry dismissively. It feels like a slap in the face.

“I’ve got nothing for you sweet girl.” She hums to the baby who is beginning to make plaintive, angry noises, “Padmé I believe miss Leia is hungry again.”

The senator sighs quietly before moving to swap children. She looks at the two men in her presence. “You’ll have to excuse my children,” she jokes, “they don’t know the meaning of office hours yet.”

Bail gives a hearty laugh. “I’m shocked, with you as their mother.”

“They must get it from their Dad,” she offers cheekily, “Boundaries are not his strong point.” Fox watches as Mouse heads for the door with the other infant.

“I think I’ll go deposit this one in bed. Maybe he’ll get some sleep without his sister pestering him.”

Padmé nods as Mouse leaves and Fox fights the urge to follow after her. Like a child himself, he wants her attention. He runs a hand through his hair roughly as he watches the empty door frame willing her to come back. They could try again, start from scratch. He would put himself on his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

Something angry flares in his chest.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard didn’t beg. No, Commander Fox was the man everyone looked to for leadership. He would not beg. He’d stand in front of her and dress her down like one of his petulant kits.

She didn’t get to just walk away from him, give him the cold shoulder. Did she not realize he sacrificed a bit of his soul just to send her here? That the wound it left became a little more infected each day?

No, she probably didn’t. She’d obviously moved on and he was the one that was left idling in the past.

——-

“Bail already knows his way around the estate, obviously.” Padmé laughs. The chancellor had excused himself a short while before and blatantly refused Fox when he’d attempted to follow after.

“I’m an old man,” he’d said though he was nowhere near the age Fox would seem old , “and I need a nap and a holo with my wife, neither of which I need your supervision for.”

That left Fox in the senator’s good company as she led him through various halls to the guest wing. Wonder that! A whole wing set aside for people who didn’t even live there. For a clone who’d spent the better part of his life bunking with dozens of brothers, the thought was beyond what he could comprehend.

Padmé readjusts the baby in her arms not for the first time as they talk.

“I could take the little biter for a few minutes if you’d like.” He offers not thinking she’ll take him up on the offer. Who would let a clone handle a baby that was damn near galactic royalty?

Apparently, Padmé Amidala.

“Oh that would be amazing!” She stops and turns toward him and before Fox really has a clear idea of what’s going on, he’s got an arm full of ik’aad.

Fox freezes for a moment and stares down at the little face staring back at him. Her eyes have a depth, he thinks, far beyond her few months. When he looks back to her mother, the senator is stretching her arms with a contented smile. Leia squirms in his grip.

“Well hello princess” he murmurs softly as he cradles her closer. She offers a gummy yawn in return and Fox is surprised he doesn’t melt into a puddle right there.

Padmé claps quietly. “Oh! You’re a natural!”

Fox gives her a lopsided smile. “She’s a baby, not a thermal detonator.”

When he glances up Fox sees just a flash, a far-off look in the senator's eyes. “You’d be surprised to know not everyone takes to it so easily. Maybe you’re just meant to be a father?”

“Padmé, you know that-“

“Screw the regulations,” she says with a steel to her voice he’s only heard a handful of times, “You’re not a droid. You're not a thing, and if it’s the last thing I do, the Republic will do right by the men we’ve made fight our war.”

Fox raises a brow. “You know, I was going to say it usually requires a partner to have a baby.”

Padmé’s face flushes a pretty shade of pink. “Well at least you know where I stand.”

“With all due respect, I’ve always known where you stood.”

The pair continue down the hall taking a sharp right before Padmé is pointing to a door.

“This one is yours,” she states as Fox begrudgingly passes Leia back to her mother. There was something incredibly soothing about holding the little girl and he misses that feeling the moment she’s gone.

Padmé points at other doors down the hall. “Commander Bly, General Secura, General Kenobi, Marshall Commander Cody…” she rattles off, pointing to a seperate room for each. She does a lousy job of biting back a smile as she points to the last door, conveniently across from his own. “Our little Mouse.”

Fox can’t help but shake his head. “I feel like I’m being set up.”

“You are,” Padmé agrees sagely.

“I regret to inform you, after earlier, I believe that ship has really and truly sailed, hit hyperspace even.”

Padmé gives him a skeptical look before peeking down at her daughter. “Men are the silliest creatures,” she educates the infant before glancing back up at Fox, “but not all of them are lost causes.”

Fox chuffs softly.

“I was once told that the Force controls everything around us,” Padmé says earnestly, “but as I’ve grown I’m not sure that’s true.”

He’ll bite. “Well what mystical force controls our destinies then?”

“Hope, Commander. All life,” she looks down at her daughter, her eyes shining when she looks back up, “is built on hope.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox/reader #commander fox #cc 1010 #tcw #star wars

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years

Text

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 16

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625552318938611712/the-long-way-around-chapter-15

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 3050

Warnings: None

Y/n’s POV

I sigh, pulling on my tennis shoes. “Can we do this later? I’m not feeling it.” It’s only been six hours since our last drill, I haven’t heard from Jasper, and the burn in my throat has yet to fade from six hours ago. I just want to be left alone.

“No.” Rosalie’s voice is firm, and she reaches down a hand to pull me up. “You need to be consistent otherwise you’ll lose progress. No more moping.” Now, she gives me a shove towards my bedroom door, “I’ve let this go on for too long.”

Childishly, I take slow steps towards the door. I really just want to get back in bed and watch some Netflix or something. “It’s not like it’s your fault. I’m just not in the mood.”

“Look,” Rosalie sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “Being away from your mate is hard, I get it. Emmett and I hate being away from each other, but-”

Her words register, and I have to cut her off. It’s something that’s been bothering me since the fight, when Cora addressed Jasper. She’d asked him if he was willing to die in the place of his mate, and she’d meant me. And now, Rosalie throws the term casually into conversation. My mind floats back to that discussion Jasper and I had all those months ago, about mates, and I know that the term is anything but casual; it’s equivalent to an eternal, undying commitment.

“Yeah, about that.” Rosalie’s eyebrows raise, presumably at being interrupted, but she speaks no further. I play with my fingers, glad Jasper’s not here to feel my insecurity and nervousness. It might give him the wrong impression. “That word has been thrown around a lot recently.”

Now, a smile quirks across Rosalie’s lips. “Does that bother you?”

“No, not bother,” I’m quick to correct. “It definitely does not bother me, it just…y’know, means a lot.”

“And that worries you?” This time, her guess is correct.

Timidly, I nod. It feels dumb to be admitting all of this, but it’s the truth. “It just feels so fast to be feeling this way.”

Rosalie takes a small step towards me, and her voice is kind when she speaks. “You guys go at whatever pace feels comfortable for you. All I’ll say, is when you know, you know. And there’s no going back.” She heaves a sigh, and then smiles. “Now, get your butt in the backyard. You are not getting out of training just cause you’re in love.”

Rolling my eyes, I follow her out of the house. I’ll have to make time to mull over my thoughts later, when I’m alone.

When we reach the backyard, which is really just a clearing in between the massive house and the forest, Emmett is waiting, and so is a scent that throws me into an immediate predator-like crouch.

“Emmett, you’re supposed to wait until she’s prepared to open the bag,” Rosalie chides, looking at me warily.

Emmett shrugs, a wide, unbothered grin across his face. “I’m taking it up a notch.”

Just the fact that I can register their conversation shows me how far I’ve come. A few weeks ago, I would’ve been laser-focused on the squishy bag fifty yards from me. I use the knowledge of my progress as a lifeline and force myself out of my crouch.

The footsteps racing toward me give barely a second to react before I’m slammed onto the ground with the force of a freight train. I snarl, fighting to get the dead weight off of me. The weight snarls back, and I recognize the sound instantly as that of another vampire. He must have smelled the blood and come to fight me for it. With that knowledge, my new goal becomes escape and, if possible, escape plus satisfaction in the form of guzzling the packaged human blood. But my first priority is set. With a growl, I grip the shoulders of my assailant, using my strength and my ability to put him on the ground. The man gasps in response to my attack, and soon a groan is drawn from his lips. My hands tingle, the only physical sign that I’d used my powers. Once the man is on the ground, I hold him down with a knee on his chest. I’m about to hit him with a wave of fire to further incapacitate him, when I notice the contorted, yet familiar, face below me.

“Arthur,” I gasp, hurrying off of him.

He takes a few steadying breaths but looks at me with a glint in his eye. “Nice job.”

“Yes,” another voice agrees as Edward hurries to join our group. “That was very controlled, Y/n.”

“Controlled?” I’m sure my eyes must be bulging comically. “I about made my friend think he’d been set on fire just so I could have some packaged blood.”

The blood. I freeze as I realize I had been ignoring it. Not unaware of it, exactly, just not prioritizing it. Experimentally, I take a shallow breath through my mouth. The fire ignites, but I fight through it. I take another breath, and another, eventually working up to a deep breath through my nose. That hits me the hardest, but with gritted teeth and much effort, I push down the urge to follow the scent.

Oh wow.

My face breaks in a grin to match that of Rose, Emmett, Arthur, and Edward.

Even now, fully aware of the sweet smell, I can ignore the urge to go after it. The temptation, as well as the painful burn in my throat, are very much present, but I can control my instincts. I am controlled.

“Aha!” I exclaim in joy and jump in the air, elevating about twelve feet before crashing back into the ground, leaving a small crater.

I bask in the congratulation from my friends as well as in my newfound optimism. Maybe Jasper is right. We might actually be able to go on a trip soon, just the two of us.

I swallow at the implication.

We’ve never been alone before for an extended period of time. Even our two trips to the waterfall were relatively brief.

Now that I know it’s a real possibility, I ache for uninterrupted time with Jasper.

But then my thoughts shift and I’m returned to a state of worry as I face the harsh reality that none of us have heard from either Carlisle, Esme, or Jasper in well over six hours.

The fact that Edward hears my thoughts and can offer no reassurance makes me feel even worse.

Emmett notices the shift in my mood. “Wanna wrestle?”

Usually I refrain, but right now, that actually sounds kind of fun. At the very least, it will distract me.

Hesitantly, I nod, and Emmett grins widely. After tossing the now tightly closed bag to Rosalie (who discards it safely), Emmett draws me further away from the house.

“Esme will kill us if she comes back to crushed brick,” he explains.

Edward chortles. “What, again?”

“Hey you’re next baby bro,” Emmett teases, his grin never slipping.

We circle each other for a few minutes. Then, with barely any warning, he lunges.

We grapple. I’ve been a vampire for nearly eleven months now, and my newborn strength is all but gone. Emmett is definitely stronger than me. My advantages lie in my speed—Emmett’s size makes him slightly slower than others—and in my ability. Still, I’m very hesitant to cause my lovable friend pain, so I keep a tight reign on my powers.

Emmett manages to get his arms around my middle and tosses me about two hundred yards. I slam into a tree, taking it down with me. But before it has a chance to hit the ground, I’m standing in front of Emmett, using his shoulders to throw him off balance. Just as I’m about to kick him in the stomach, a low move, I know, Edward’s phone rings. Immediately, we all freeze, guessing who will be on the other end of the call, but in the dark as to what news they will provide.

“Carlisle?” Edward’s voice is terse, a vocal expression of the feelings raging inside my heart. Please, please let Jasper be okay.

“Edward, we are on our way home. The conversation went well.” Carlisle’s voice is calm, optimistic even, and my friends exhale sighs of relief. I can’t quite relax yet though. Not until…

Thankfully, Edward hears the frantic tone to my thoughts and takes pity.

“Is everyone alright? Where are Esme and Jasper?”

“Everyone is just fine. Esme is checking us out and Jasper’s running a quick errand before we leave for the airport.”

I let out a shaky breath, nearly falling to the ground as all the tension leaves my body. He’s okay. He’s coming home.

“Wonderful,” Edward enthuses. “When should we expect you?”

“Our flight is supposed to land around five tomorrow morning, and we should reach the house around eight.”

The three hour drive between our small town and the nearest international airport suddenly seems incredibly rude. Perhaps…

Immediately, Edward shakes his head in my direction. “You’re not ready for that.”

“But you said I was controlled!” Inwardly, I cringe. My voice sounds like that of a whiny teenager.

“Controlled for the exercises, yes, but it will be completely different when you’re surrounded by humans, even if you stay in the car,” he tacks on, knowing my next argument. “Besides, Carlisle parked his Mercedes at the airport. It makes no sense to drive there when he already has a car waiting.”

I fight back a groan. I just want to see Jasper. I miss his hugs, his scent, the feel of his hand in mine, the way he smirks when I tug on his hair, cuddling up and reading or watching movies, the sound of his laugh-

Edward’s kind chuckle breaks through my thoughts. “Just eighteen more hours.”

Pursing my lips, I check my watch. It’s just past two-thirty. I can distract myself for seventeen hours and twenty-four minutes. Right?

Edward focuses back on his conversation with Carlisle, but I tune him out. I can get all the details later, from Jasper. All that matters now is that they’re safe, they’re coming home, and that the mission was successful.

I think of ways to fill my time. Hunting would certainly be a fun occupation, but I quickly dismiss the idea. Jasper will want to go when he returns, and I would rather go with him. Heck, we might get a whole family trip out of it if Carlisle and Esme need to go, too. I could kill a few more hours wrestling with Emmett though, eventually, we were sure to get sick of throwing each other around. Randomly, a thought strikes me, and a smile spreads across my face.

“Bella, Alice, Rose” I call, hurrying back towards the house.

{***}

Seven grueling hours later, we’ve amassed our supplies. Paint cans and pillows and fabric and wood and brushes and tools and baskets and a million other tiny objects crowd my room. It seemed much larger before we crammed all this in.

While the girls had kindly set up a room for me after my transformation, it lacked, well, me. The style was very generic and resembled more of a guest room than someone’s personal space.

I decided it was time for a change.

Bella lost interest hours ago and was now off somewhere with Edward, so Rose had roped Emmett into being our fourth set of hands.

“I like the pink, but that’s just me,” Emmett contributes, sounding surprisingly emphatic.

Rosalie groans. “I asked for base colors, not accent colors.”

Emmett makes a face that quite explicitly communicates the word, ‘geesh.’

I hold back a laugh and instead focus on studying the samples of paint in front of me. One in particular stands out, and I relay my decision to the group. We begin painting, each of us taking a wall. Arthur seems to feel left out and joins us about halfway through, and Rosalie puts him to work building a window seat.

Soon, my walls boast a calming sage color, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Yes. Arthur’s constructed a lovely window seat complete with little doors on the bottom to give me extra storage, and I thank him profusely. It’s truly beautiful. Alice disappears and comes back with the perfect lace curtains, and I actually squeal. I would have never thought to include lace but, seeing it in context, I can’t deny that it’s just perfect.

To add a bit of depth (in Rosalie’s words, anyway), we throw in some hints of lavender, cream, and brown. Pleased with my reaction to his window seat, Arthur and Alice craft a bookshelf, and then leave in search of the perfect chair and table. While they’re gone, Rosalie, Emmett, and I talk bedding. After a surprising amount of arguing, we decide on a cream duvet and many pillows in variations of cream, lavender, and coffee.

Alice must have been notified of our decisions (by means of text or supernatural premonition, I don’t know), and returns bearing many gifts. She and Arthur set the items gently on my bedroom floor: a dusty pink vintage chair, a carefully distressed cream circular end table, a small cream pillow (presumably for the chair), a handful of startlingly large blankets, and hanging twinkly lights for above my bed. I about burst with excitement.

Not about to be outdone, Emmett leaves and returns exactly one hour later bearing a huge flat-screen TV. He grins as he and Arthur rebuild the bookshelf into a larger bookshelf-entertainment center-combo. It’s truly awesome.

With five hours before Jasper’s arrival, my room is finished. I can’t help but beam as we slide the last of my books into place on the carefully organized shelf.

“You guys….” Emotion makes my voice tight. In my, albeit fuzzy, human memory, I can’t locate a time when my friends had gone to such lengths to help me, to make me happy. I’m truly, deeply grateful for these people I get to call my friends. More than that, my family. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

They respond with smiles and an easy chorus of phrases diminishing their instrumental roles. I just pull them in for a group hug, which is met with varying levels of appreciation, and can’t help but laugh.

They leave me alone to enjoy my new space but also so they can finish cleaning up before Esme gets home. I feel bad, them having to take trips to the dump and various stores on my behalf, but Edward is right. I’m not ready to be surrounded by actual humans. Still, I’m eager to show Jasper my progress. He’ll be proud of me.

The thought of my love—for, as much as it scares me to think of him that way, he surely is— causes me to pause. Now that my room is all nice, it seems unfair for him to have to come home to find his untouched. A flash of a weak human memory confirms my theory: I had just returned from a week long school trip and found my room clean with freshly washed sheets. Someone—my mom or my dad?—had figured I would be tired and knew I would appreciate the act. Hopefully, Jasper would too. I exit my room and turn up the staircase to the top floor. Jasper’s room is located at the eastern corner of the house, and I head in that direction. When I get to his door, I pause. I’d been in here many times before, but never without him. Would he be upset? Would he consider this an invasion of his privacy? Those fears nearly send me back down the stairs but, reviewing what I know of his character, Jasper wouldn’t be angry. He probably wouldn’t even care. So, I push the door open.

Jasper’s scent, while faint, hits me, and I close my eyes, savoring. It’s been days since I’ve been surrounded by the comforting warmth of him, and my heart aches for his return.

I want to kick myself for being so besotted. Who was I, that I would be reduced to such sadness at just a few days away from my boyfriend?

I sigh, knowing the truth.

But he’s not just my boyfriend. Jasper is my mate. Neither of us is human anymore, so human standards cannot apply to us. What I feel for him is so completely…more than any human could ever even conceive of feeling.

I swallow under the weight of my admission. Put simply, I know deep in my gut that Jasper and I will be together for eternity. And, if death ever tries to do us part, it will not succeed. Whether in after-life or whatever comes next, we will be together.

Oof.

Needing to focus on something other than these intensities, I hurry to Jasper’s bed and strip the sheets and pillowcases. His room is spotless, so there’s not much work for me there. Still, while his bedding is in the washer, I busy myself with dusting, While wiping off one of his shelves, I find a couple of my books I’d noticed were missing, and roll my eyes. Thief. In retaliation, I take his favorite chessboard and shove it under my bed. Now, we’re even.

Once the bedding is finished drying, I replace it and smooth it out, making the bed as best I can. Vampirism is supposed to make you good at everything, but I can’t quite replicate the tightly fitted corners Jasper creates with ease. Eh, good enough. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, right?

I replenish the washing machine with Carlisle and Esme’s bedding next, not wanting to leave them out. Just because I’m not ridiculously in love with them doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have freshly washed sheets too, right?

By the time I’m done with my various cleaning, it’s only two hours until Jasper’s arrival. Alice can sense my anticipation, and invites me to watch a movie with her. I accept but, instead of focusing on the classic plot, count down the minutes until I can hear the car’s wheels on the drive.

A/n Thank you for all your kind words on my last update! Each reply, like, and reblog makes me smile and I truly appreciate you taking the time out of your day to do that! Don’t forget to let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list :)

xx,

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625820783935160320/the-long-way-around-chapter-17

Tag list: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @deviantly-gayy @sleepywinnie847 @vexingcosmos @avalongrey @artms-blnd

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Interactions

Tony x reader x Bruce

Bruce had spent many years running. He’d spent a long time running from his own issues, years running from the government and then he’d tried for a while to run from his feelings. When he’d joined the Avengers Y/N and Tony were already together.

The two had grown up together and everyone agreed they were great together. Though Y/N was not an Avenger, she was around the team a lot and was often thanked for talking Tony out of his more explosive ideas.

As Tony had dubbed him his ‘science bro’, Bruce and Tony were in the lab together a lot and that meant Y/N was in the lab a lot. It was hard for Bruce to not fall for the couple. Tony didn’t care what anyone thought and did what he wanted; Tony made Bruce laugh. And Y/N, Y/N was similar to Tony. She did what she wanted, she was thoughtful and she cared about people; she cared about Bruce.

Bruce was used to running from his feelings. When he knew he was falling for the couple, he backed off. This action did not go unnoticed by the couple, and it was not appreciated by either of them. Y/N and Tony had quickly cornered Bruce in the lab and demanded to know why he was so distant.

The two were persistent that was for sure and they hadn’t left Bruce alone until he admitted his feelings for the two.

“Is that all? Thank fuck, I thought you got yourself a girlfriend.” Tony sighed. “I got really worried there.”

“I’m not sure what’s happening.” Bruce said looking between a relieved Tony and a smiling Y/N.

“Well it’s simple, Brucie.” Y/N started, grabbing the scientist by the hand. “We really like you and when you backed off, we thought you’d gotten a girlfriend or something. We assumed you didn’t want us.” She explained.

Tony and Y/N had made him an offer that night. They wanted to be with him. They wanted to take him out on a date and if he decided that he wasn’t interested they would back off and be content to remain friends.

Needless to say, Bruce was no longer their friend. Eight months after that conversation, Bruce was in a relationship with the two. There was only one thing Bruce was still nervous to do.

Bruce was nervous to let Y/N and Tony meet the Hulk.

“You know I’ve met him before right?” Tony questioned as the three of you moved further into the woods. “It’s not like I’ve never met him before.”

“Every time you’ve met him, he’s destroying the place and everyone’s trying to not get crushed by him.” Bruce said, ducking under a branch.

After weeks of begging and pleading with Bruce to meet his other side, you’d finally weakened his resolve enough for him to agree. Bruce had agreed but under a few conditions.

For one, it needed to be far from civilization. This as easy to do as Tony had a property in the woods far enough away from other people it met Bruce’s standards.

Bruce’s next condition was Tony had to have the Hulk Buster on standby. Bruce refused to risk either of your safety.

The only other thing Bruce had requested of the two of you, was that if things went wrong, you’d get out of there. The three of you had argued on this point for a while but in the end you and Tony had agreed.

“You need to cut him some slack, Brucie-bear.” You said, taking his hand in yours.

“Yeah, that’s technically our boyfriend you’re talking about.” Tony cut in, lifting a branch for the two of you.

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried, there’s a lot that could go wrong here.” Bruce sighed.

“Could is a key word there, darling. But we’ve talked out every scenario we could and you’re not summoning him from a place of anger, so I think this could work out very well.” Tony said, throwing an arm over Bruce’s shoulders.

“Alright, this should do it.” You said after a few more minutes of walking. The three of you had stopped in a relatively clear part of the woods. There was a stream next to where you stood and you knew from experience it led to a small waterfall. “Whenever you’re ready, honey.”

“I love you.” Bruce said suddenly. “I love you both, so much. I just wanted you both to know.”

“We love you too, darling.” Tony said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and moving the two of you back.

“Nothing’s going to change that, Bruce.” You smiled at him. “Promise.”

Bruce let out a shaky breath before nodding. His eyes closed and he took several deep breaths before his skin began to tinge green. His size quadrupled and his clothing tore to shreds, though somehow his pants remained as shorts.

Suddenly Bruce was no longer in front of you, the Hulk was. You yourself, had never met the Hulk. You knew about him but you’d never met him but Tony had. In the early days Tony described the Hulk as aggressive. Though in recent encounters, he’d said Bruce’s alter ego had changed in some way.

“Hey big guy.” Tony said, raising his hands and taking a small step forward. “You remember me?”

“Tony.” The large green man grunted.

“Yeah that’s right big guy” Tony smiled, moving closer and slowly reaching a hand out to the Hulk. The Hulk mimicked Tony’ actions and raised a hand. Hulk smiled as Tony’s hand connected with his. “I got some one for you to meet.” Tony told him.

Taking that as your cue, you raised your hands to where the Hulk could see and slowly began to walk forward. The Hulk’s large eyes watched you curiously as you moved toward him.

“Hi big guy, I’m-”

“Y/N.” He cut in.

“That’s right.” You smiled, standing beside Tony. You left your hand raised towards him and when he brought his hand to yours, you and Tony let out wide grins.

Your first meeting with Hulk, went just fine.

Non-reader POV

Tony had left the labs for five minutes. Five godamn minutes to get a coffee refill. It had taken five minutes for whatever to trigger Bruce’s transformation. Tony had run back to the labs and only stopped at the entrance to not startle the man.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’m going to ask you to keep everyone away from down here and to get Y/N down here as quickly as you can. Once she’s come down you need to block off this area.” Tony said quietly as he entered the lab slowly.

“Yes boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. affirmed. Hulk turned at the noise of the door closing behind Tony.

“Hey big guy.” Tony said, strolling closer. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.” He casually commented.

Hulk let out a low grunt as he sat on the ground. Tony felt the ground shake slightly as the green man sat but held onto the table next to him to stabilize himself.

“Banner wouldn’t let me out.” The green man pouted. If it had been any other person, Tony would have rolled his eyes, at the childish tone. But this was not just anyone, this was a part of Bruce.

“Oh, wasn’t he?” Tony asked, taking a seat on front of Bruce’s alter ego. “How come you wanted to come out?”

“Banner say Hulk only break things. Banner no like Hulk.”

“That’s not true.” Tony said, taking the green man’s hand. “Bruce just, Bruce is just a very anxious person. You remember how long it took for him to introduce you and Y/N? He just worries.”

“Banner don’t want Hulk.”

“Yes, he does.” Y/N said, entering the room. “Bruce knows that you’ve always looked after him, even before the explosion, you’ve always taken care of Bruce. He needs you.” She told him, taking a seat next to Tony in front of the green man who she smiled at.

“He no sound like that.” Hulk grumbled, raising his large hand. Y/N raised hers in response and Tony smiled as he watched his girlfriend and boyfriend interact.

“That’s because Brucie doesn’t know how to say anything nicely.” Tony said, causing Y/N to hit him in the arm.

“That’s rude.” Y/N chided him as the Hulk laughed loudly.

“I’ve said it to him before.” Tony groaned. “He knows I don’t mean it. Isn’t that right big guy?”

“Yes.” The Hulk grunted.

“You’re still feeling unwanted aren’t you bud?” Y/N asked, entwining her fingers with Hulk’s large, green, ones. Hulk let out a low noise of agreement but didn’t say anything. “Well that won’t do, will it, Tone?”

“No it won’t.” Tony agreed, smirking as he quickly thought up a plan. “But I think I know how to fix it. What do you say we go to the cabin for a week? We’ll talk Bruce into letting you out during the day and you can show him you’re more than smashing.”

“Why is that the smartest idea you’ve had all month?” Y/N teased the billionaire.

“Shut up.” Tony laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. “What do you say big guy? You want us to go to the cabin?”

Hulk did not say anything for a minute as he looked between Tony and Y/N. Finally, Hulk gave the two of you a large grin and nodded.

“Hulk love cabin.”

At Hulk’s words Y/N smiled widely and began to rapidly make plans for what your week at the cabin could look like. Tony smiled as he watched Y/N and Hulk interact, his smile remained even when Hulk shrunk down to Bruce.

Tony was happy watching those he loved.

Reader POV

“You two look like you’re having fun.” Tony commented, joining you on the lawn.

“The most fun.” You murmured, pressing your face into the Hulk’s chest. The sound of his heartbeat was very soothing.

The three of you had been at the cabin for five days now. You and Tony had been working with Bruce on accepting the green man as more than a monster. Bruce had a lot of issues with himself and even more when you factored in the Hulk.

During the days, Bruce allowed the Hulk to take control. This had been a topic that caused a lot of issues when you first presented the idea to him. He was worried about the potential danger and there was a part of him that was worried the two of you liked the Hulk more than him.

The two of you were quick to shut his worries down. You both understood never feeling like you were enough and you both knew what to say to sooth the jittery man.

So after a long, serious, talk Bruce agreed to this cabin trip to work on his relationship with his alter ego.

During the days, he showed the Hulk that he was willing to give him some trust and let him out. The Hulk’s days would be spent with you and Tony, exploring the woods, enjoying the stream and just being together.

Come dinner time, the Hulk reciprocated the trust Bruce had extended to him and allowed Bruce to take control and change back.

But now, five days into the trip, the three of you had run out of things to explore, and had run out of things to do apart from lounge around together. Tony had been making lunch while you and Hulk decided to lay on the lawn.

“Join.” Hulk said, raising a hand out to the man. Tony gave you both a smile as he walked over and laid on Hulk’s other side.

“Did you turn the stove off?” You murmured, drawing shapes on Hulk’s chest.

“Yes, honey.” Tony smirked. “It’s like she doesn’t trust me.” He said to the Hulk.

“Banner says she’s right.” The Hulk told him, causing you to giggle and Tony to gasp in mock offence.

“What has the world come to?” Tony complained melodramatically. Tony continued to speak and occasionally Hulk would make comments but you found yourself beginning to drift asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you closed your eyes for but when you next opened them, you were met with a naked chest.

“Brucie?” You mumbled.

“Go back to sleep, darling.” Bruce hushed you.

“Okay.” You nodded, already drifting back off. “I love all my boys.” You said into his chest.

“Love you too sweet cheeks.” Tony said from next to you.

“We all do.” Bruce affirmed, pressing his lips to your forehead before you fell back asleep. Content with everyone and everything in your life.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @hopingforbarnes @skeletoresinthebasement @jelly-fishy-babie @agent-barnes40 @starlingelliot @reann-loves-sebstan

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Natasha x reader x Clint

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

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whyralltheusernamestaken · 4 years

Text

Hell

Yannoe that incorrect quote that’s like, I would f//ck a demon cuz of status, when your stroll into hell and everyone else is panicking but your sugar daddy’s just there?

Well that’s what this fic is lmao

Hitoshi Shinso x reader

Demon!Shinso who doesn’t go to UA

Genre : fluff, comedy possibly

Warnings : swearing, hell(?)

Words : 2,316

Masterlist

A/N : it’s a very stereotypical hell, apologies lmao

this is also a very ooc shinso cuz i’ve never written for him b4

Hope you enjoy!

The events following your classes’ arrival to the rescue centre were certainly a mess. One moment Thirteen had been explaining about them self and their quirk, and the next a vast mass of villains had shown up. A mass of purple clouds had swallowed all of you up whole and scattered you across the centre, leaving you with the weaker villains.

Well that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, you had drop onto a one way staircase of marble, surrounded by rivers and waterfalls of lava.

“Why the fuck is it so hot in here?” someone curses out. You turn to see Bakugou taking off a piece of his costume, sweat already dripping down the side of his face.

“Are we still in the rescue centre?” a certain red hair asks, deactivating his quirk that he had unconsciously started using when he was sucked into the warp.

Before you can even get a word in, a small, cute imp pops up out of nowhere, a small trident in it’s hands. “Welcome to hell!” it cheers, a large grin on it’s face as it’s wings beat the hot air around, turning around to look at you. “Welcome back Lady Y/N, it’s been a while since we last saw you.”

You hum in response, booping the small creature. “I must say I didn’t recognise it here, must’ve changed a lot.”

“It knows you?” Kirishima asks. You nod, not bothering to elaborate more as the imp answers your question.

“Not at all mistress.” it responds, flying around before settling on Kirishima’s shoulder, the said boy tensing up almost immediately before softly rubbing the imp’s cheek. “You simply hadn’t seen the outside of the castle.”

“Sorry to break up your little reunion.” Bakuogu snorts, stomping up to Kirishima and grabbing the imp by it’s tail. “but how the fuck can we get out of this shit hole?”

“Well that’s not very nice.” it chides, stabbing him in the hand with the point of the tail before flying to settle on your head. “You can leave if master allows it.” it continues, ignoring Bakugou’s hisses and threats towards it.

“Well shall we go then?” Kirishima suggests, to which you agree. “Come on Bakubro, stop being a wimp.”

“Who the fuck are you calling a wimp huh?”

You ignore the boys, beginning to climb the stairs. The stair case seems endless, one step followed by a thousand more.

“Why the fuck are there so many stairs?” Bakugou shouts, rubbing his forehead with his arm.

“Because it’s long and tortuous.” the imp laughs, sticking it’s tongue out at Bakugou to which he responds with another curse.

“Would you like me to teleport you mistress?” it asks.

“Does that offer include the boys?” you ask, not bothering to turn around and look at them.

“No it doesn’t”

“What why not?” Kirishima asks. “That’s not very fair.”

You can hear the pout in his voice. “Then I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

“Y/N you bitch, don’t you dare leave us- HEY! Come back here now!”

By the time he finishes his sentence, you’re already gone.

“Bro she just left us.” Kirishima complains, but he’s drowned out by Bakugou’s ear piecing screams of anger.

He sighs and shakes his head, continuing the steps up.

After what seems to feel like hours, they finally reach a massive gateway, It opens up to another set of stairs, this time the temperature much cooler than before and the stairs seem to be made out of pure gold, decorated with velvet trails of red.

“This way!” the imp calls out, reappearing in mid air.

“You little shit-” Bakugou calls out, leaping into the air to grab it, but it simply flies away, leaving him to fall clumsily onto his feet.

Kirishima follows along, pulling Bakugou by the arm, making sure he didn’t stomp off like a child.

After a few twisty corridors, then find themselves in a massive hall, the ceiling held up with columns of red and gold, a massive crystal chandelier hanging from the centre. Painting and tapestry littered the baroque architecture and near the back of the hall sat a massive throne, one that could probably fit at least a dozen people.

The boys look to see you sat across someone’s lap, you head against their shoulder as they fed you grapes.

“Oh, look who finally made it.” you smile, giving Bakugou a wink as you see literal steam emitting from his ears.

He starts scowling at you but Kirishima simply laughs. “So Y/N are you gonna explain anything or?”

“This is Hitoshi!” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck as he smiles adoringly at you. “He’s the demon king of hell.” you nod approvingly at your introduction, whereas it only brought more questions to his friends.

“And you know him because...” Kirishima starts, trying to get you to continue explaining your story.

“Oh, he’s like... hmm.” You pause, trying to look for a good term to label your relationship as. You had accidentally stumbled across summoning the demon when you tried to combine your quirk which witchcraft, which led the latter to become infatuated with you, the first human who had even summoned him in his thousands of years alive.

Your room had began to fill with smoke and now matter your use of quirk or fanning air through the window, the wouldn’t seem to disappear. That’s when you realised the mass of black forming in the centre of the smoke.

You shrieked and climbed out of the window, jumping down rather ungracefully before sprinting down the road. Your parents were at work so there was no point in staying in the house.

As you turned the corner, you bumped into someone, falling backwards. They stepped forward and caught you by the waist, lifting you up to meet a gorgeous purple haired man with deep sunken eyes and a Cheshire grin.

“Um thanks.” you quickly said, stepping away and getting ready to run away again when he spoke.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he asked.

“I think there’s someone in my house.” you said, your adrenaline now leaving you with the fear.

“Oh that was me.” he replied curtly, giving you a grin as he watched your face morph into fear, and then quickly anger.

You raised you leg, kicking him directly in the nuts.

“Bro I could’ve been changing on something.” you threw your hands up in the air. “Who gave you the right to just waltz into my house.”

“Um you actually.” he spluttered, squatting down on the floor as he struggled to regain his composure. He was the demon king for fuck’s sake and not only had some mere human ran away after summoning him but then they proceeded to kick him in the balls. The audacity!

“What?”

“You summoned me.” he glared.

You pursed your lips. “How?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he retorted. “No one’s done that before.”

You stared down at him, inching your face closer and studying his features. “Can I return you?”

“What the fuck?” He raised his head abruptly, head butting you as you stumbled back a few steps.

“What?” you shouted, rubbing your sore forehead as he stood up again. “I didn’t try and summon you, it was an accident.”

“Well I can’t go back until you make a deal with me.” the man sighed, placing his arms on his hips.

“Yeah no.” you replied almost instantly, turning on your heel and leaving. If he was telling the truth and was indeed the one in your room, then you could go home with no worry.

“Hey, don’t ignore me you human!” he shouted, catching up with you and walking next to you.

“Can’t you like, I don’t know, leave me alone?” you asked desperately.

“No. You have to make a contract with any demon that you summon within 7 days or your soul will be taken.”

“Uh huh.” you nodded. “Can I make a deal with you to leave me alone?”

“Technically yes, but you’ll also need to pay a price.”

“Oh my fucking god.” you screamed, banging you head against your front door. “What’s the price then?”

“Hmm I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re the one spewing this nonsense about a contract.”

“Oh, it’s just I get to choose the price. I’m not too sure what I want from you yet.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to underneath your window before boosting yourself up with you quirk, perching on the window sill as you stared down at him.

“You’re cute. But also fucking insane bro.” you commented, stepping into your room and closing the window.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” he said, reappearing in your room.

You screeched, jumping back. “Bro please leave me alone.” you begged, sitting down defeated on your bed with your head in your hands.

“Nope. I’ve decided.”

“What will it be?” you asked uninterested, deciding that you’re fate had been sealed already. You were going to die anyways, why not go by a hot demon.

“You’ll be my friend.”

“What the fuck no.”

“I do admit that I’m rather a lonesome person, I could perhaps do with some of your...” he looked you up and down before finishing, “presence.”

You snorted. “Don’t you have any demon friends?”

“The king has no friends.” he replied simply.

“And you’re like the king?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“No darling, I am the king.”

“He’s like my friend?” you question, looking at Shinso for an answer. He simply shrugs with a smile before holding up another grape for you.

“Friends?” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t see you cuddling up to all of your friends in the dorms.”

“Humph fine.” you pout. “Like sugar daddy? I don’t know, but you do give me a lot of things.”

“That’s simply because I like you.” Shinso replies, a soft smile on his lips.

You respond with a large grin, sitting up to give me a kiss on the cheek whilst you hear Bakugou cough “Disgusting.” underneath his breath.

“Can’t you like, keep Bakugou here and torture him endlessly?”

“I’m afraid that’s against the rules.”

“Or you could recruit him, since he’s a literal demon himself.”

Kirishima laughs at your comment, before asking “So how can we go back? Our friends might be in danger so we need to go back as soon as possible.”

“Alrighty Hitoshi, can you teleport us back?”

He responds with a hum before you find yourselves back in the centre.

You look around to see Kirishima and Bakugou getting up from the floor, Bakugou shouting about how he didn’t need to have dropped them from such a high place. He stops when he sees the Nomu, it’s foot perched upon your teacher’s head. You start to run to him when you realise Shinso is flying mid air, still holding you in his arms.

“Hey, how strong are you?” you ask.

“Pretty strong I’d say. Why?”

“Do you think you could blow that muscle bird away. It’s kinda ugly.” you comment, pointing at the Nomu. “But like, keep the human underneath it, I kinda need him stil alive.”

“Your wish is my command.” he replies, before he flicks his wrist, the nomu being lifted high into the air and tossed to the side of the centre.

“Holy shit.” a male voice shouts. “That bird is invincible, how did someone do that?”

You turn to see Mineta shouting by the side of the water zone, your lips curling in digust. “Ew gross.”

“Would you like me to get rid of him?”

“Maybe another day.” you reply.

The doors suddenly burst open to reveal All Might, standing there in all of his muscly glory.

He begins to fight with the Nomu as you lean back in Shinso’s chest.

“So like, could you get his body off the playing field?” you ask, pointing at Aizawa.

Shinso hums in response, lifting Aizawa’s body and following it toward the exit of the centre.

“Hey Tsuyu, could you take him?” you shout and she nods quickly, wrapping her tongue around his and pulling him towards the ambulances outside.

“Alrighty, how about we wrap things up.”

Shinso hands you a magical gun and you enhance it with your quirk. With one beat of his wings, you two gets proceeding closer to the nomu, before you shoot it’s expose brain. It halts momentarily, unable to regenerate too quickly, and the perfect opening in created, All Might landing a punch and sending it flying off, out of the centre’s roof.

“Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think we can say the same for your friends.”

You look over to see a few of your classmates very ruffled up, buts and bruises littering them. “Oof.”

“Should I put you down?”

“Nah, you’re comfy.”

Bonus :

“Y/N, are you going to see your demon boyfriend any time soon?” Kirishima calls out in the living room of the dooms.

“Demon boyfriend?” Uraraka pipes up, catching the interest of many classmates.

“Hmm?” you hum in response, looking up from your phone. “Maybe when I feel like it, why?”

“Well I heard there’s a special type of crocodile skin in the demon realm where it’s unbreakable and I was wondering if I could reference it for my quirk or costume?”

You nod in response. “Sure thing, I can give him a call.”

“Um no you won’t.” Uraraka cuts in. “You are going to tell him to come here because I want to see your boyfriend.”

“Um why though?”

“Because we’re best friends and you didn’t even think to tell me you were dating someone?” she pouts and you instantly feel bad.

“Sorry sorry Ochako. Sure.” you quickly reply.

“No you are not inviting that bastard over.” Bakugou shouts from the kitchen.

“Well more of a reason to invite him I guess.” you laugh.

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deadontheinsidebut · 4 years

Note

Can I ask for prompt no. 15 and 8 separately for tsukishima if u will 😳👉👈

a/n: I’m a SIMP for Tsukishima omg💓💓 hope you enjoy and thank youuu for the request 😌🏐 idk why but imagining an uncomfortable Tsukki cracks me up

Haikyuu Prompts List

#8: when you cry

Tsukishima isn’t known for being the nicest of his teammates so when you became best friends with him, you knew what you were getting into

He teases you all the time but what he doesn’t expect is the sudden tears from you on your period

You see, you’re the sad hormonal and while you try your best to avoid the salt-shaker during the vaginal waterfall of demon’s blood, it’s impossible when y’all are that close

So he’s sitting here watching you cry over him telling you that he would never date you because you’re too immature and Yamaguchi is trying his best to comfort you

What he doesn’t expect is the soft sniffling and puppy dog eyes that look up at him in earnest

His left eye is twitching and he’s holding onto the edge of his chair to avoid falling victim to your demonic pureness I said what I said

So when you place your tear-eyed form in front of him, he’s doing his best to focus on anything but you

“What about me makes you turned off?” you whimper

“Well, for starters this childish face you’re making”

He says that but he just doesn’t want to seem vulnerable in front of you

He’s fidgeting with his fingers and fumbling with his words and even manages to put out a few measly insults before you’re a sobbing mess again

He goes weak in the knees and succumbs to your adorable behaviour and he’s pulling you towards him in hopes of consoling you

He’s kinda rough with it but only because he’s an embarassed wreck!!

Let’s you stay there with him until your tears have subsided

Yamaguchi took pictures of the scene for safe keeping

#15: what the team thinks of you

He literally didn’t want to introduce you to his team at all because he knew how troll they were

The moment they found out you were the glorious gf of the salty tsukki, there were a range of reactions

Tanaka n Nishinoya were in disbelief that he managed to pull a baddie like you and were crowding you the entire time

Daichi was shaking your hand and introducing himself and Suga gave you a hug it was truly like meeting the parents

But after proper introductions were over, you became immediate friends with the second years

Even tho Tanaka n Nishinoya are the resident simps of Karasuno, they regard you as one of the bros

You later start going to their house many times just to game with them because they’re just such a hilarious duo

Kageyama is honestly skeptical of you because he doesn’t get along with Tsukki at all and a gf of Tsukki is no friend of his

He eventually learns that you’re an actual babe and wayyyy nicer than Tsukishima so y’all become unlikely friends

You help toss some balls for Kageyama to set and he’s instantly your bestie

Tsukishima even gets jealous sometimes ngl

Yamaguchi is literally jealous of you n Tsukishima for reasons we totally don’t know👀

But even HE has to say that you’re a perfect balance for the salty middle blocker

The team hopes that you’re able to “reform” Tsukishima and his snarky ways but deep down, you love him all the more for it

Overall, the team is in luv witchu n you’re part of the Karasuno family now :))

#haikyuu!!#hq hcs #hq imagines #reader x haikyuu #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #nishinoya hq #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #tobio kageyama #haikyuu yamaguchi #haikyuu tanaka #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu requests #tsukishima request

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

I give up, here’s Chapter 17

I should’ve posted this a week ago, but I’ve been like “nuuu it’s cool no one minds a 25,000-word chapter” and yeah here’s only 15k that I finally split off into its own thing. Chapter is here, hi @lostmypotatoes

The Grand Hall lived up to its name: Frisk had never been to the nicer parts of the humans’ castle, but there was no way it could be more amazing than this place, which had a ceiling hundreds of feet tall blanketed with tiny lights, speckled marble columns that reached nearly all the way up, and beautiful murals on the walls showing forests, rivers, even the ocean! Monsters stood in long lines along a central aisle of sparkling white sand, so new that it had obviously been made for the humans’ visit, stretching up a gentle slope to the foot of the grand staircase leading into the Underground.

Queen Toriel had taken Frisk from the house in the Ruins through a snowy town – how did it snow inside the mountain? – and on her first-ever boat ride, which ended all too soon in a place called “Waterfall”; from there, they hurried down to the Grand Hall just in time for the Royal Guard to announce the human delegation. Luckily, instead of having to walk through all those monsters, they used a partly-hidden network of hallways to emerge right at the head of the staircase. Toriel gave the child one more pat, telling her to be good and stay where she was, before the Queen walked out to take her place beside Asgore, nodding to the guards.

Frisk was glad she didn’t have to talk to the King yet; he looked like a bigger, hairier, scarier version of his wife or son, scowling and fidgeting around until Toriel cleared her throat. They stood just in front of Prince Asriel, who noticed the child and gave her a friendly nod before he turned to face the aisle. Frisk crept out far enough to look around the rest of the cavern, wondering why humans talked about the Underground as if it was some kind of filthy mudhole. It was such a beautiful place, with boat rides and snow and twinkling lights…

Something like trumpets sounded, and the Grand Hall’s enormous bronze gates swung open. The monsters all put on their politest expressions as the delegation came through the entrance and headed up the aisle, with the frontmost humans stopping at the bottom of the staircase. “Greetings,” boomed King Asgore, extending his arms and flaring his purple cape out like great wings. “Welcome to the Underground, one and all!”

On cue, the monsters broke into cheers and applause. As the echoes faded, a fussy-looking human stepped forward to give a long speech about greetings and honor and honorable blah blah blah; it was starting to get boring when he was cut short by a cry of “Mama!” and someone rushing past him.

“Chara!” Forgetting her dignity, the Queen of monsters hitched up her robe to run to her estranged daughter. They nearly crashed into each other halfway down the stairs, Toriel’s crown falling askew as the human leapt into her embrace. There was a lot of murmuring and more genuine applause, which swelled into a full ovation as Toriel sank to her knees, holding on as though her child was drowning and her arms were a life preserver.

Asriel had also hurried down to meet his sister, and Asgore was starting toward them when it happened: Chara looked up for the briefest second, and when she saw Frisk near the head of the stairs, the woman’s eyes flashed sheer hatred, as though she wanted her dead on the spot.

Frisk jerked back so hard that she stumbled and nearly fell. When she caught her balance, she found herself looking down at Asgore; he was staring at Chara, and followed the woman’s gaze back up to Frisk. For a long second, the King regarded the human child with a question in his eyes, as though he wanted to say something, but knew better; then Chara was all teary smiles again, hugging Asriel and extending an arm to “Papa!”

The applause grew even louder as Asgore joined them, parents and siblings joyously reunited, and Frisk could have cried with rage. Why did Chara have to hate her for being there when she was lucky enough to have her own perfect family? Couldn’t Frisk have had more than a couple of minutes with those wonderful monsters before Chara stole them back?

It was too much. The child sniffled, and turned to trudge back down the hallway, trying not to think of what her mother was going to say when she found out where Frisk had been.

But as she approached the branching path that led to the Grand Hall floor, she came to a sudden halt: someone further down the hall was shouting, “I’M TELLING YOU, IT IS DEFINITELY THIS WAY!”

“sure, bro,” another person mumbled, his deeper voice echoing up the passage.

“SANS, PLEASE! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY THE CORRECT DIRECTION THIS TIME! THERE IS NO NEED TO LOOK AT ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!”

“relax, pap. i’m just impressed you know all these different ways to go.”

The voices weren’t moving—she was trapped up here. Frisk held her breath as the louder person demanded, “REALLY? THEN WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME THAT SMIRK?”

“…uh, bro? this is how I always—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME, BROTHER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNOWS WHAT A SMIRK LOOKS LIKE! IT’S A REGULAR SMILE, BUT IN THAT TONE OF VOICE!!”

“you got me. it means ‘pap is the coolest and knows all the directions.’ you like it?”

“…I SEE! NYEH-HEH. YES, I DO LIKE IT! FROM NOW ON, YOU MAY SMIRK ALL YOU WANT!”

“aww, thanks, bro. you’re the best…and that’s the tooth.”

The joke was so dumb that Frisk had to laugh. Whoever it was, they sounded friendly enough, not to mention silly. Were they humans she hadn’t talked to on the way here? Or—

“DID YOU HEAR THAT, BROTHER?” She jumped as the voice came closer. “IS SOMEONE THERE? SOMEONE WITH EXTREMELY BAD TASTE?”

“hey! i think they’ve got great taste. i mean, they obviously speak our tongue.”

Frisk laughed again, and was only a little afraid when the strange pair came into view. They were skeletons—not just thin people, but actual, literal bones that walked and talked. One was very tall, dressed in showy red boots and some kind of fake armor, while the other was much shorter, in clothes far too casual for an event like this. Why was he wearing pink slippers?

Both of them were also looking her over. With the tiny little lights in his sockets trained on Frisk, the taller one bent down to whisper to his brother. “OH MY GOD, SANS!” he yelled. “IS THAT A HUMAN?”

The short one stared at her for a moment, then nodded, and somehow closed one socket in a wink. “i dunno, pap. he doesn’t look that monstrous to me. who’re you, kid?”

“My name is F—Kris,” she said, giving them a bow, “and you’re right. I’m a human.”

“OF COURSE I AM RIGHT, HUMAN, FOR I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! HOW PLEASANT FOR YOU TO MEET ME!” The tall skeleton struck a heroic pose. “HAVE NO FEAR! WE MONSTERS HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE AND THEN BECOME FRIENDS! THEREFORE, YOU MAY SIMPLY REFER TO ME AS ‘PAPYRUS,’ EVEN IF IT IS ONLY HALFWAY CORRECT.” He indicated the other skeleton. “THIS IS MY OLDER BROTHER, SANS. DO NOT BE DISTRAUGHT THAT HE IS NOT AS GREAT AS I AM, AND TRY TO BEAR WITH HIS TERRIBLE JOKES, NYEHH.” Nudge. “SANS! SAY SOMETHING THAT IS NOT TERRIBLE!”

Sans was watching her carefully; he looked like he was smiling, but Frisk had the feeling it was just how his face was made. He wasn’t happy to see her at all. “sure,” he said coolly. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.” Papyrus nudged him again, and Sans sighed, as if resigning himself to his fate. “yeah, i know what his majesty said.” He put on a wider grin. “welp, nice to meet you, kris.”

Fakeness or not, the monsters she’d met so far were still much better than any humans she knew. So Frisk smiled shyly at him, and whispered, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Sans.”

His smile dropped a little. They regarded each other for a few seconds; to her delight, his mouth rose again in genuine approval. “heh. you seem like a nice kid.” Shrug. “pap’s right. we’re all gonna be pals, so…”

Papyrus looked pleased as Sans took his hand from his jacket pocket. But as Frisk reached out to shake it, Pap’s smile suddenly vanished. “WAAAIT A MOMENT,” the taller brother said suspiciously. “SANS, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT—”

Too late. The moment Frisk grasped the skeleton’s hand, something erupted in a palm-tickling explosion of Pfffffftttttppppppfffffffff…ffffffppp…pppf…pp……p.

Silence.

“OH. MY. GOD,” Papyrus said in the voice of doom, and rounded on his brother. “SANS, YOU IMBECILE! YOU HAVE BROKEN THE HUMAN! LOOK, IT ISN’T MOVING! IT—”

Frisk couldn’t hold it in: she howled with laughter, and only got louder as Sans pulled his hand back to reveal the rubbery, air-filled contraption that had made the rude noise. “what can i say? it’s always funny,” he said proudly. “quite a gas.”

“HOW COULD YOU, BROTHER?! THIS IS A CLEAR VIOLATION OF ACQUAINTANCE ETIQUETTE!” raged Papyrus. “HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO ASCEND THE HEIGHTS OF TRUE FRIENDSHIP NOW THAT YOUR IDIOTIC PRANK HAS DAMAGED THE SMALL HUMAN?!” Papyrus stabbed a gloved finger at Frisk, who was now doubled over. “IF THIS IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO BEHAVE, YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO HOME NOW! YES, HOME! YOU CAN PICK UP YOUR ROOM IN CASE WE HAVE HUMAN GUESTS!”

“i dunno, bro,” said Sans, winking at Frisk again. “it’s probably too heavy for me. you should get it instead.”

“NYEHHH! I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT GET IT!”

“aw, pap, don’t be so hard on yourself. i’m sure if you just try harder—”

“LEAVE!! NOW!!!”

Funny as the brothers were, that seemed harsh to Frisk—the nearest houses had to be pretty far away from the Grand Hall, and making Sans walk all the way back because of a few jokes was a little much. She eyed Papyrus doubtfully, wondering if he was like humans after all.

“it’s fine, kiddo,” Sans told her, as if reading her thoughts. He winked one more time. “don’t worry, i know a shortcut. so, eye will see ya later.”

Before Frisk could react, Sans was…gone. Baffled, she looked around, then up at Papyrus. “HM? OH, YES. SANS HAS DEVELOPED HIS MAGIC EXACTLY ENOUGH TO BE AS LAZY AS POSSIBLE,” the tall skeleton said distastefully. “I CAN ONLY HOPE HE IS ACTUALLY CLEANING HIS ROOM NOW. MORE LIKELY, HE IS—”

There was a sound of clapping and cheering from the Grand Hall. “THAT’S RIGHT!” Papyrus threw his red scarf over his collarbone. “COME ALONG, HUMAN! I SHALL INTRODUCE YOU TO THE OTHER MONSTERS! YOU WILL BE DELIGHTED TO MEET THEM, ESPECIALLY THE ROYAL GUARD, AND THE FEELING WILL BE MUTUAL! NYEH-HEH! FOLLOW ME, NEW ACQUAINTANCE!”

“Um…” Frisk bit her lip. Papyrus was a lot to take in, especially without warning, but he didn’t seem to be faking his enthusiasm, or his kindness. Frisk looked at him, made up her mind, and smiled again. “Can we be friends now?” she asked, holding up her hand.

The skeleton’s cheekbones turned bright pink, somehow, eye sockets going wide and glittery. “REALLY?!? WOWIE! I CAN’T BELIEVE I—” He made a noise like a cough. “I MEAN…O-OF COURSE YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND, KRIS! I AM EXTREMELY GREAT.” Papyrus leaned down a little to take her hand. “COME ALONG! AS A FRIEND OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOU SHALL BE KNOWN AND LOVED BY ALL! NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

Frisk sure hoped so, especially if the other monsters were as nice as he was. Even if they weren’t, she’d already made new friends, exactly like she was supposed to. Mama couldn’t be mad at her for that, and Chara couldn’t take them away from her!

The dream with Asriel was a fitting end to a frustrating night. Sans had picked the biggest inn he could find and asked for a room with the biggest bed they had, only to find that it still wasn’t big enough for him. He didn’t want to try sleeping in his disguise, which meant another night stretched out on the floor, longing for the massive bed in the High Priestess’ quarters. He never would have thought he’d want to go back to the humans’ castle—that damn bed had spoiled him for life! Not to mention that when he was sleeping in it, he had Frisk all to himself…

He had just started dozing off when the door to the next room opened and closed, a couple of human voices whispering back and forth. Sans made the mistake of concluding that that was it, and was completely unprepared for the sounds that exploded through the wall a minute later.

Sans was not an expert on human…anything, but he knew was he was hearing, and that he was hearing it very very loudly. At that point, he had several options; after mulling exactly one of them over, he sat up and ran a thread of magic through the lamp fixture over the bed, worming it through the conduits in the wall and into the next room. From there, he could feel the vibrations of the bed moving – ugh – and spread his magic in a thin layer under one side of the mattress; then he twitched his hand, and grinned at the shrieks and thuds of the couple being dumped onto the floor.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t need to do anything else. The humans got dressed in a hurry, grabbed their things, and left, and did not come back. Sans let his magic dissipate and settled down, feeling a little smug, but mostly annoyed that the sounds were still stuck in his head.

The giant skeleton tossed and turned, dreamed, and got up in the morning a lot later than he intended; he was so unrested, and so disturbed at having seen Asriel – had it been real? Why and how would the Prince visit him of all people? Why now? – that he barely remembered to put his chain back on before he left the room. He forgot to ask directions when he checked out and had to grump his way around town at random, looking for the stables the warehouse lady had mentioned. He had to get the carts and horses, then go to all the stupid places and get the stupid things…

Well, this wasn’t the right way: he was on a street lined with cute little cafes and humans sitting around in fancy metal chairs. He stopped to get his bearings, and nearly swore as his stomach growled. At least there were food stands everywhere…but what the hell was a “crepe”?

A minute later, he found a place to sit down and gnaw on a couple of folded-over, chocolatey things, which were actually pretty good. There wasn’t much to do as he ate but people-watch, which would have been kind of neat if the people in question weren’t humans. They followed the overall pattern he’d observed at the castle, where the men were loud and stupid-looking, while the women were also loud and ranged from scrawny to actually-lumpy to extremely lumpy. Even the ones with nice faces were still too…human, without any soothing voices, or graceful movements, or sweet expressions…

It made him wonder yet again if Frisk’s SOUL was the real reason he’d been so drawn to her; the first time he’d seen it, he was scared shitless, and then he wanted to rip it out for strictly non-romantic purposes. Was it because she’d reminded him so much of Kris? Or would he have just eventually fallen in love with any human who was powerful enough for him, even if she was a gross person on the outside or inside?

…Nope. It was because she was Frisk. Satisfied with that line of introspection, Sans finished the second crepe and tossed the wrappers in a trash can, forgetting that she wasn’t there to yell at him for littering. Time to ask someone for directions to a more useful part of town.

The first person he talked to just shrugged, and the next pointed him the wrong way entirely, but an irate half-hour later, Sans was back on the right track. This street seemed much dingier, with fewer people around; it smelled weird, too, like horse pee and desperation.

Maybe that was why someone had started following him. Sans smiled to himself, wiggling his fingers inside his coat pockets. Should he get further into the back alleyways before he confronted the guy, or—

“Heya.”

Sans glanced to his right. A man in his early twenties was standing by a side street, nodding at him. “C’mon this way,” he said. “Got somethin’ to show you.”

“I don’t think so, pal,” said the disguised boss monster. “Whatever ya want, you’re wastin’ yer time. Don’t have any cash on me.” Without waiting for an answer, he speed-walked further ahead, grinning as he heard a soft whistle behind him.

Sure enough, someone was waiting right around the next corner, an older man in nice clothes. “Excuse me, sir,” he said loudly, “but do you have the time?”

Sans thought of the old woman again and snorted. “Nope,” he replied, and tried to walk around him.

The man quick-stepped back into Sans’ way. “My. Her Eminence doesn’t pay you enough to buy a watch?” he asked innocently.

What the hell? He wasn’t wearing the armband. “Who said anythin’ about—”

The distraction almost worked: the guy made a sudden feint toward him, and if Sans had been any less alert, he’d have backed right into the human sneaking up to grab his neck with a wire loop. Instead, Sans pivoted and slammed an elbow into his would-be assailant so hard that he felt the guy’s ribs crack. The man who’d stopped him cursed under his breath, turning to run.

Almost absent-mindedly, Sans waved a finger in the fleeing human’s direction. There was a shnk of bone erupting from the pavement, and a muffled scream as the man’s ankle was impaled mid-flight. The rest of his body yanked to a stop and hit the ground in a twisted heap.

Footsteps pounded toward them, and Sans turned to face the first guy who’d talked to him, then one other human. They sized up the situation and moved to either side of him, one armed with some kind of club and the other sporting a huge knife.

Sans gave a low laugh as bloodlust started bubbling to the surface. Finally! This was what he’d been waiting for! No more playing cute and harmless! No more letting people do whatever the hell they wanted with him! No witnesses!

Really, the only problem was that it was too easy. Sans let the one with the knife get in close, then grabbed his arm and broke it at the elbow, spinning the would-be assassin around and shoving him into the guy with the club. Both humans hit the ground, but the knife guy was up in a moment, scrabbling for his weapon with his good hand. Sans kicked the knife away, pinned both of his palms to the ground with a couple more bones, and lifted the remaining human by the neck with his magic.

Was that it? He glanced around at the one with the wire loop – on the ground, struggling to breathe – then the guy with the impaled ankle, who seemed to have passed out. The third was staring at his hands and making weird noises – not very knife of him, ha ha – and the last one dangled a few inches off the ground, clawing at the red mist around his throat.

Sans hummed under his breath, surveying the four men with an artistic eye. Well! Where to begin? Might as well start with the one he was holding up. The human windpipe was so fragile that one good crunch would do it…but no one said it’d have to be a quick crunch. Sans began to apply pressure, slow and hard, and grinned as the man’s eyes bulged in terror—

Out of nowhere, he froze mid-squeeze as a strange emotion hit him. It was…nostalgia, and then—guilt? That was it; the longer Sans stared at the captive human, the less he enjoyed the guy’s fear and despair. He knew exactly what it felt like to be trapped by someone stronger, didn’t he? Back in his jail cell, cowering behind a human witch’s barrier, knowing she could do any damn thing she pleased to him—had he looked like this to her?

Sans shook his head in irritation. What was he thinking? That was different! He wasn’t Frisk, and these guys had tried to kill him!

…just like he’d tried to kill her before and after she stopped him from hurting anyone. What had she done to retaliate? Kept him safe, given him her own stupidly oversized bed, let him sleep for over a day, and fed him more in one sitting than he’d eaten in goddamn weeks.

Sans tried again to shake it off, to rationalize that no one in their right mind would hold a psycho like him to Frisk’s standards, but when he looked again at the human in his grasp…

No, dammit! These assholes had attacked him out of nowhere, and he’d defended himself! Surely she wouldn’t expect him to just stand there and get murdered?

…But none of these guys could move under their own power anymore, much less hurt him. Now Sans could see Frisk snarling up at him in all her tiny, furious glory: “If you kill anyone and you cannot look me in the eye to tell me why it was necessary, I don't want you to come back at all!”

Argh! It wasn’t fair! She wasn’t here to stop him—she would never even know! Why should he quit right when it was finally getting good? Couldn’t he at least nick ‘em a few more times, enough to make them sorry? They might be pretty sorry already, but… “But,” Sans mumbled out loud, scowling.

Now he was thinking of Dr. Serif. The boss monster could practically hear his cool, smug voice: “But what, Sans?”

Tch. If he had to be hearing things, he’d much rather it be Frisk. He knew he should’ve taken a shortcut back to the Underground last night. Then he could’ve seen her and…done…something? Maybe he wouldn’t be so damn frustrated now, his mind jumping all over the place…

“Sans.”

Oh, shit. What about the fortune-teller? “Don’t kill anyone.” That guy had been right about stuff so far; would something happen to Frisk if Sans ignored his stupid, cheap advice? For all he knew, it could—

“SANS.”

“What?” he snapped. “Whaddya want, Doc…tor?” He gaped at Dr. Serif, who was standing only a few yards away, arms folded. “The fuck are you doin’ here?” demanded Sans, releasing the human from mid-air and ignoring his wheezing.

Dr. Serif came closer and made two gestures. A skeletal hand popped up and seized the fallen human by the throat, glowing green before vanishing. “He should live,” the royal sorcerer said crisply. He glanced at the man whose hands were affixed to the pavement, and the one up ahead. “In the meantime, do you plan to leave these gentlemen like that?”

Sans was still mad that he couldn’t leave them dead, but… He made a disgusted noise, and the bones all vanished. “Ya gonna tell me why you’re here, or what?”

“What.” Dr. Serif walked past Sans and snapped his fingers. Two pairs of disembodied hands sprang out of thin air, and one latched onto each human’s head; to Sans’ immense discomfort, the hands glowed blue, and each man obediently got up with sluggish, jerky motions – even the one with the shattered ankle – to come sit in a row, legs crossed like schoolchildren. “Why did you attack this man?” Dr. Serif inquired. “Only speak if you have useful information.”

The human with the broken ribs mumbled, “He’s the High Priestess’ agent,” in a voice that made Sans feel even weirder. There was good old-fashioned violence, and there was this. “Gonna hold him for ransom and lure in the skeleton.”

“Do not lie to me.” The humans jerked, eyes going glassy as the blue intensified. “This is not an instrument of live capture,” said the royal sorcerer, retrieving the wire loop with yet another hand. “Why do you, or your employers, want him dead?”

There was a round of silence. Evidently, no one knew, or probably cared. They’d had their orders, and that was that.

Sans stepped closer. “Were you the ones going after Frisk a few weeks ago—the High Priestess? Are you gonna try it again?”

“Wasn’t us,” said one.

“No one’s supposed to kill her anymore,” said another, and his associates nodded slowly.

Dr. Serif blinked a few times. “According to who, and since when?”

“Last week. Someone paid the Assassin’s Guild to blacklist her. She’s untouchable—anyone who goes after her gets a bounty put on his head.”

Sans had never seen the royal sorcerer so taken aback. “I didn’t know that was even possible. It would cost several hundred thou—no, a million dinar to make it worth their while,” he muttered. “Do you have any idea who did it?”

More silence. Meanwhile, Sans was not that surprised to find out there was a formal guild for murderers. Humans were such fucking scumbags.

“Are you affiliated with poachers, then?” was Dr. Serif’s next question.

“Yeah,” they all said at once.

The doctor’s foot tapped a few times. “Does your attack on the priestess’ agent have to do with the timing of his delivery to the Underground? Fewer monsters will be venturing outside if food is being brought directly to them—I assume you wanted to prevent this?”

Sans watched the men’s faces stay blank. That was probably too many words for them. “What’re you gonna do if ya can’t catch any monsters?” he asked instead.

The blue light intensified again, and someone finally mumbled, “Ransom. The High Priestess will pay to get her agent back. She won’t know he’s dead yet.”

Dr. Serif frowned. “And you’re hoping she’ll send the boss monster to rescue him?”

Nods. “It’s worth a hell of a lot of money.”

There was an odd pause. “For his magic?” the doctor asked.

“And ransom. She’s screwin’ it,” one man said tonelessly.

Dr. Serif grabbed Sans’ shoulder to restrain him. “Surely you’re not taking that rumor seriously,” he said. “It can’t be worth the danger of trying to capture such a powerful monster—he was relatively weak when he was first caught, and two men still died of their injuries.”

“Lady payin’ us says it’s true. She doesn’t want Her Eminence arrested for mis…missen—”

“Miscegenation?” growled Sans.

“Yeah. That. She wants us to catch it, but not kill it. We’ll keep it and get a shitload of magic, then sell it back later. Win-win.”

“Hm. So, your employer is a woman who wants to help the High Priestess? What is her name?”

No one answered. The blue light flickered, and one man finally said, “Dunno. We just got a few letters, and payment up front. Pretty sure it’s a rich lady ‘cause of the handwriting and the way the paper smelled, but we don’t know for sure.”

The doctor stared the man down, still holding Sans’ shoulder. “And she has hired you to hold the skeleton prisoner…for how long, exactly? And through what means?”

The human shrugged. “She said she’d tell us more once we killed this guy.”

Dr. Serif thought about it for a moment, then snapped his fingers again. The skeletal hands tightened, and Sans watched the men writhe in tandem and fall sideways like puppets with cut strings. “Well, that was more interesting than expected,” said the royal sorcerer. His hand tightened on Sans’ shoulder. “Come along.”

Sans shut his eyes as magic surged around them. It didn’t have the rushing-through-space feel of his shortcuts; this was more as if the ground had jumped out from beneath their feet and just as quickly hopped back into place. He opened his eyes and started. “Where—”

They were standing outside a large, well-kept stable. The doctor released him, saying, “I must commend you for not killing any of those men. We’ve acquired valuable information, and once they wake up, word will get around that the High Priestess’ agent is not to be trifled with.” He smiled, ever so slightly. “They will not recall I was even there.”

Sans gestured impatiently. “What the fuck was that about? Someone wants human-me dead, but they just wanna borrow real me to keep Frisk outta jail? An’ someone else’s paid out the ass to keep her alive? What’s—”

“It could well be the same person.” The royal sorcerer brushed some dust off his robe. “What is miscegenation?” he asked curtly.

Sans’ toes curled. “Boning a monster. It’s a literal crime. I heard somebody talking about it last night.”

“Interesting,” the doctor said slowly. “No one spreading that rumor in the city seems to know about it yet.” Sigh. “If you overheard it here, I suppose it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows.”

Sans didn’t want to talk about that right now, or ever. “How long were you following me?” he asked instead.

Pause. “Long enough.”

The boss monster didn’t like that, either. “Whatever,” Sans mumbled. “But thanks fer gettin’ all that stuff out of ‘em. You’re pretty freaky, but I guess ya come in handy.”

He heard the familiar sound of someone ignoring a pun, and then “You’re welcome.” Dr. Serif crossed his arms. “I was sent here to intercept you and the High Priestess. Given that I have not seen Her Eminence with you, may I assume you were foolish enough to come alone?”

“Uh…”

“As you were also foolish enough to leave the castle when and how you both did, I am not surprised.”

Sans snorted. “Ya think that was my idea?”

“No, but this almost certainly was.” The royal sorcerer gestured to the smushed roll of papers in Sans’ front pocket. “Come along. There should be three carts on reserve in Frisk’s name here, for when you were supposed to have picked them up on your way to the Underground.”

Sans followed him into the stable. “What, ya didn’t like us bailin’ on you?” he asked, taking childish pleasure in the older skeleton’s annoyance.

The doctor reached back without looking and took the papers from Sans’ pocket. “Hello,” Dr. Serif said cordially to the human behind the counter, who stepped right up to assist them.

This turned out to be prophetic: the doctor not only accompanied him everywhere for the rest of the morning and afternoon, he took complete charge. He made things so much smoother that Sans couldn’t even be mad about it; people listened to him, and he could fully answer their questions while Sans inspected the cargo and supervised the loading. The doctor also signed the bills of lading, reminding Sans after the first visit that as a perfectly normal human and not a monster in disguise, he was not “Sans” and needed to pick a pseudonym already.

They had almost no time to eat lunch or dinner, electing to grab a couple of sandwiches as the drivers brought the carts to the second-to-last warehouse. “So, was it your idea to swoop in on us like this?” Sans asked. “I know it was annoying to wake up and have us gone, but—”

“His Majesty is extremely unamused by his daughter’s behavior,” said the royal sorcerer, in a tone that wiped the smirk off Sans’ face. “To be very honest, I am glad I will not be there when Her Eminence receives this.” He extracted a long, expensive-looking envelope from his robe. “His Majesty assembled the paperwork yesterday for—”

“The adoption thing?” Sans interrupted. “Is it true?”

Dr. Serif made a face. “No matter where I go, the speed of gossip remains constant.” Another sigh. “Whatever you’ve heard is likely true. Should Frisk’s mission prove successful, His Majesty is prepared not only to pardon her theft, but place her directly in the line of succession.”

Sans took a long sip of water, trying and failing to figure that one out. “I thought ya said he was pissed off at her. Why…?”

“Tell me, Sans. Knowing Frisk, do you think she would appreciate being pressured into accepting such a heavy responsibility, especially in anticipation of her little brother’s death? His Majesty knows exactly how she will feel about it.” Dr. Serif paused for a huge bite of his sandwich. “Also, he may personally be unhappy with her actions, but he knows better than anyone that if she can outmaneuver him, then she is worthy of the throne.”

Fuck. “Yeah, when ya put it like that—”

The royal sorcerer glanced at him. “Out of curiosity, when did you learn that the King was her father?”

“Not till we were almost t’the Underground. I kinda found out by accident.”

Dr. Serif half-smiled. “It’s been common knowledge ever since she was brought to St. Brigid’s. And…by any chance, did she ever tell you anything about her mother?”

Sans had to whack himself in the chest as the last wad of his sandwich threatened to get stuck in his windpipe. Why did human bodies use the same damn tube for breathing and eating? “Only that she’s dead,” he rasped. “Why?”

“Wipe your hands, please, and put this somewhere safe until you can give it to her.” Dr. Serif held out the gilt envelope. “It contains copies of all the relevant documents, including an investiture of nobility—she would technically become a duchess first, then Crown Princess upon the death of the King or the Prince.”

Sans scrubbed his hands on his shirt and took the envelope. He was thinking so hard that he almost didn’t notice Frisk’s full name in fancy cursive across the front; then he looked again, and stared at it for a minute, and finally said, “Huh.”

“You don’t seem entirely surprised,” the doctor observed, sounding almost disappointed. “Have you already heard something to that effect?”

“Yeah. I had a long talk with Grillby the other day, and…I wasn’t gonna ask Frisk, but I was kinda wondering, and then she said…” Had the King done the calligraphy himself? “I never did hear her last name. I figured the High Priestess just doesn’t need one.”

“It was not hers to use for most of her life, and I would be very surprised if she chose to do so now, or ever. According to what I have gleaned from Rosa, the name does not have pleasant associations for Frisk—another fact of which the King is very aware.”

“Holy shit.” Sans looked at the envelope again. “He’s callin’ her that ta piss her off?”

“It is technically her legal name and belongs on a document of this importance. So, yes.”

“Shit.” Sans scratched the back of his head, thinking even harder. “So whoever filled out the paperwork for him knows her name, too? Which means everyone is gonna know about it by the time we get back?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming back with her, then?” He let the question hang in the air, and Sans ignored it till Dr. Serif continued, “You are correct. I am genuinely sorry to leave this with you, but you will have to give her the news before you return, or else she will be completely blindsided. Please don’t do that to her.”

Sans wasn’t going to admit that the thought had already crossed his mind: throw the envelope away, let her enjoy the rest of her time in the Underground, and feign astonishment when they got back – hopefully triumphant – and found out she’d someday have the power to do literally anything she pleased, such as freeing monsters with a single decree.

Except…she was already helping monsters, and had already spent three lonely, stressful years as High Priestess. How much worse would her life be if she became the actual Queen? Would it technically fit that second fortune? Fear stabbed him so hard that he could barely breathe—what if she got surrounded by advisers and hangers-on determined to harass him away from her? There was no telling how long her father and half-brother would be around, and they probably wouldn’t let her keep a pet skeleton around, not to mention a suspiciously bony kid…

Sans couldn’t help it. Dr. Serif eyed him warily as the boss monster snickered again: a fucking crime. It was too perfect.

The carts were ready now. The boss monster tucked the fancy envelope into an inner pocket and resolved to quit thinking about it for now. Frisk could handle this; she’d know what to do. If she didn’t, they’d figure it out together.

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. By the time they were ready to head back to the Underground, the sun was just touching the horizon.

Everything had fit into three large-ish carts, which Frisk had accurately predicted would be a better idea than two really huge ones. The drivers were nervous about starting so late in the day, but Dr. Serif had implied that they were just headed to the city, the road to which was well-lit and patrolled by watchmen. Sans got a huge kick out of seeing the humans’ faces when the procession reached the outskirts of the village, went about a hundred yards, and came to a sudden halt. “You may remove the horses now,” said the doctor. “Please return to the village. Here is a small gratuity for your trouble.”

If the humans had questions, they were effectively answered by the five-hundred-dinar pieces Dr. Serif placed in each of their hands. They unhitched the horses and jogged them back in the fast-fading light without a backward glance, leaving the loaded carts sitting in the road.

From there, the disguised monsters waited until no one was in sight – not difficult, given the hour and the cold – and then enacted the plan they’d agreed upon earlier: Sans encased the lightest cart in a film of red magic, thought carefully about the place by the river where Undyne had attacked him, and teleported the whole thing there. No more than ten seconds later, a large patch of blackness crept over the pale bedrock; Gaster rose from it head-first, followed by the carts, and everything settled into place as the ground shimmered back into ordinary rock-ness.

“What the crap?” Sans pulled his chain off. “How do you even have that much magic?”

Gaster brushed himself off again with two extra hands, keeping his own tucked beneath his flowing black coat. He glided in a circle around the carts, checking that they had made the journey safely, and nodded. “Surely you’re not worn out from one spell?”

“No, but I’m a damn boss monster!”

The older skeleton smiled. A hand appeared in front of Sans, holding a gray orb slightly bigger than the hole in its palm. “Humans use these to store magic. Keep at least one on your person at all times and let it absorb your ambient power. Put it away when full, then repeat the process. Do so regularly, and you will soon have a supply built up for contingencies exactly like this.” The hand vanished. “Has Her Eminence used the teleportation spell I gave her yet?”

Sans remembered the brooch she’d gotten on All Souls Day, and shook his head. “I don’t think so, but she wears it a lot.”

“Good.” Gaster looked at the nearly-night sky. “Lead the way.”

The boss monster wondered exactly how many more of those stones Gaster had squirreled away in whatever fold of subspace he was using, and contented himself with the fact that the creepy bastard still seemed to be on their side—Sans hadn’t forgotten the fortune about bewaring him, but right now, he didn’t have much choice. Even the lightest of the carts was much heavier than the wagons full of monsters had been, and as tired as he was, he doubted he could’ve pulled or teleported them all on his own.

Gaster’s extra hands were pulling and pushing two of the carts with apparent ease as they followed the river. Sans tried to think of something that would pass the time without leading to invasive questions, and finally thought to ask, “The solar panel demonstration went okay?”

“Oh, yes.” Gaster’s voice was neutral, and it was impossible to read his expression in profile. “Someone attempted to sabotage it by cutting several of the wires on the main panel, so I used my own magic as a substitute. It was most impressive, if I say so myself.”

That sounded like one problem too many. They had enough crap to deal with in the Underground without worrying about sabotage or the King being passive-aggressive or some random lady who wanted to keep him away from Frisk! Get in line, he thought bitterly.

“How is Her Eminence’s mission going?” asked Gaster, as if reading his mind.

“Pretty good, I think. Asgore hasn’t met with her yet, but he’s letting her do whatever.” Sans felt the corners of his mouth lift. “She’s spent a couple nights with Undyne and Alphys at Toriel’s house, havin’ some girl time. They went shopping yesterday, ‘n pro’ly today.”

Gaster nodded. “I don’t know how you intended to do this alone,” he said, glancing at the carts, “but given your accelerated timeline, I suppose it was the best way to let her enjoy herself for a day or two. It will also help her cause if the monsters see a great deal of her firsthand.”

Sans knew what he meant—all Frisk had to do to win them over was be herself. He didn’t notice that he was smiling until he felt Gaster’s stare; the other skeleton was suddenly in front of him, drifting backwards as Sans walked. “Don’t mind me,” murmured the royal sorcerer, examining the boss monster’s sternum.

“What’s my LV?” Sans asked bluntly.

Gaster reappeared beside the cart. “You are at LV 16.”

Sans was…almost surprised. Gaster gave him a hard look. “The first time I checked, you were—”

A sound off to their left made both skeletons stop to listen. It was faint, but unmistakable. “Keep going,” Gaster said, and they picked up the pace, both assuming their disguises.

There was no question of outrunning the humans, so they let the sound of hoofbeats gradually overtake them. “Well, well,” said the first rider, pulling up in front of the carts and forcing them to stop. Two more poachers rode up alongside, and three more brought up the rear. Each man had a coil of chain slung over his shoulder, and their leader carried a heavy crossbow. “What are you doing out here so late?” he demanded. “Where you headed with all that?”

“The Underground,” Dr. Serif said calmly. “We have no monsters or valuables with us, so if you would kindl—”

“Bullshit.” The leader nodded to the other men. “Search ‘em. There’s gotta be—”

Sans didn’t even see what happened next: an unseen force yanked each man out of the saddle to hit the bedrock, filling the air with thumps, whinnying, and curses. “This is your last warning,” said Dr. Serif, still sounding very reasonable. “Leave us, or you will suffer.”

When the men didn’t answer – except for more profanity – the doctor made a gesture. This time, Sans glimpsed the skeletal hands smacking the horses on the rump, one after another; the animals screamed in panic, nearly trampling their riders as they bolted in different directions.

The poachers gaped at each other, then at the human-shaped skeletons. “What the fuck are you?” demanded the leader. With no warning, he whipped up his crossbow to fire at—

—Gaster, whose body had vanished, leaving nothing but an eerie smile and empty sockets. “Well, then,” he murmured, his eyes lighting blue and yellow. He glanced at Sans. “Please go on without me. I will see you back at the castle in…” He paused, counting on a set of hands. “…nine days.” The fingers snapped once, twice, thrice. “My regards to Her Eminence.”

Sans opened his mouth to object, and the ground dropped out from beneath him.

Silence descended in his wake, leaving the poachers in abject terror. Without the carts’ lanterns, it was impossible to see anything but the light in Gaster’s sockets. “Well,” the monster said. He looked at the men with mild curiosity, like a child with a jar full of insects. The leader jerked as a hand suddenly latched onto his face. “Can I trust you to keep this little encounter a secret?” asked Gaster.

The man nodded frantically, clawing at the hand as blood began welling under its phalanges. The others nodded, too, babbling reassurance.

“Good,” the skeleton said pleasantly. The humans had exactly enough time to start hoping before his eye-lights dilated, illuminating the hideous, masklike face. “What a pity that I do not believe you.”

There was a gruesome sound, and another, and another, and another. Silence; a tide of magic rose and swept over the bedrock, leaving nothing behind but a few splashes of blood.

Gaster nodded in satisfaction and turned to rinse his hands in the river, humming Sans’ favorite song. He paused long enough to chuckle to himself, then brushed his coat off once more, extracted a fresh stone from his coat, and vanished.

The sentries outside the Grand Hall’s gates rolled their eyes as another knock came from within. “Any sign of him?” someone asked through the crack.

“No,” the rabbit monster snapped. “For the last time, you don’t need to keep asking every ten minutes! We’ll tell you when he—”

A long, low sound from the opposite direction cut him short. “Sans?” called the guard.

“The one an’ only,” a gruff voice answered over the rise. In the still, cold air, they could now hear the sound of wheels on sandy rock, and the labored breathing of a boss monster managing three heavily laden carts by himself. “Can I get some damn help here?”

Twenty minutes later, Sans had recovered enough to get up from the cavern floor and hobble through the swarm of hungry monsters by the gates, some of whom had been waiting all day for their share of the food. “You guys don’t need to inspect it,” the colossal skeleton informed the guards, who were busy walking around the carts and poking them at random. “Me an’…someone I trust watched ‘em load it up.”

The rabbit guard looked at his partner, then at Sans. “This came from humans, right? It’s probably gotta be—”

“It’s gotta get out to people now,” Sans growled. He pointed at someone randomly. “Go get more help, whoever’s awake. I’m gonna go find Her Majesty.”

“No need,” said a clear voice. The monsters all bowed out of the way as Toriel stepped off the patchy gray sand of the central aisle. “I am glad to see you back safely, Sans. Thank you so much for your efforts,” said the former Queen. “Please, get some sleep. I will handle the rest.”

Sans was so tired that he could barely stay upright, but he shook his head. “I’m gonna check in with Asgore first.” Toriel’s face darkened, and he sighed. “C’mon, To—Your Majesty, ya know he’ll freak out if he finds out this came in without ‘im knowing.”

The other boss monster sighed, closing her eyes. “True. And if you go now, you may run into the Captain and Dr. Alphys. They will also want to know you’ve arrived safely. But after that, I want you go straight home! Do you hear me?”

He did, but sleep could wait: if those two were at Asgore’s house, then Frisk might be, too. His magic flared up, and without another thought, the skeleton took himself straight there.

Remembering how easily the women had detected him before, Sans aimed for the end of the house near the master bedroom, and caught himself with only a slight stagger into the wall. Voices were coming from the living room; the boss monster waited for his vision to clear, then pushed himself upright and crept down the hall to listen.

“It is lovely,” Asgore was murmuring. There was a musical clinking of fine metal and china—the King must be looking at the tea service Frisk had picked out for him.

“Yeah, she was pretty proud of it. Everything she’s brought has been awesome,” agreed Undyne.

Sans scowled. Frisk wasn’t here after all. Well, he didn’t have enough magic to zero in on wherever she was, and Undyne was still talking, so he might as well eavesdrop. “She got me some targets, and comi—uh, battle strategies, and stuff for my scales. It was really thoughtful,” said the Royal Guard Captain.

“And I can finally finish Adventure Lady!” Alphys exclaimed. “C-can you believe it?!”

To Sans’ surprise, Asgore chuckled. He didn’t think the King knew how to do that anymore. “I’m glad to hear it, Doctor. I know how much that was bothering you.” Clink. “What about the agricultural implements Sans mentioned?”

“Yes, Y-Your Majesty. We spent a few hours today looking them over—she knows how to treat plants so that they can go days without being watered! We t-talked about different chemicals that can improve the quality of our soil, specific nutrients for whichever crops we decide to plant first, and all the seeds she brought. The next step is to decide which fields to convert to pasture if we want to raise c-cattle or sheep.”

“Hmm. Yes, that would be wonderful.” Sans heard tea being poured and china clinking again. “What else has she been up to?” asked the King.

“We went shopping for clothes yesterday,” the Captain said, “and Mettaton is teaching her how to dance. It was pretty fun—did you hear he wants to have a big party before she leaves?”

“Yes, I have. Some festivities could be good for our people, but…we’ll see.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “And just so you know, Majesty, we’ve spent the past couple nights at the Ruins.”

A long pause. “I…see. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Undyne said quietly. “Everyone did.”

“That…” Asgore heaved a great sigh. “That’s good to hear. What about today?”

Undyne’s chair creaked. “Today was a little more complicated. She checked on some of the people she brought back—not that she busted in on anyone,” the fish monster added hastily. “She only got started ‘cause Vulkin asked her to come visit.”

Asgore made a startled noise. “Vulkin wanted to see her? Why?”

Sans wanted to run in and shake the King like the idiot he was, but he edged back and tried to think nicer thoughts as Undyne answered, “She said Frisk was the only human who ever gave a crap about them, basically, and her family wanted to meet her. We ended up staying for over an hour.” Another pause. “Also, Majesty…Frisk’s got this thing she does where she can hum something at you, and it’s…really nice. Not hypnosis or anything sneaky, it just…” Sans could almost hear Undyne shrug. “Right before we left, Vulkin started getting worked up, and Frisk calmed her down just like that.”

“She’s done it for us, too, right before bedtime,” said Alphys. “I haven’t s-slept so well in forever.”

“Hm. She has other abilities, then, besides creating barriers?” He poured more tea. “Have you investigated her capabilities in that respect?”

“N-No, Your Majesty. She wanted to have your permission before she made any, even j-just to study them in the lab.”

Sans got the feeling that Asgore was a little put out by Frisk conducting herself so well. “If you believe she is trustworthy,” said the King, “then by all means, study her barriers as fully as you can. The knowledge may prove…useful.” More clinking. “Thank you for your time, both of you. Get some rest. And…” His voice softened. “Please thank her for the gift.”

The giant skeleton smiled a little. Before they could get up and notice him lurking in the hall, Sans used the tiniest wisp of magic – all that he had left – to whisk himself outside to the courtyard. He waited by the tree, foot raised as if in mid-step; when the door opened, Asgore saw him and started. “Sans! You’re back!”

“Hey, Majesty.” Sans raised a genuinely weary hand. “Yeah, I just got in with all the stuff. Everything’s fine. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you very much,” the King said heartily, another trace of his old self showing. “I’ll be down right away.”

“Uh.” The bigger boss monster fake-coughed. “Please don’t, Yer Majesty. Someone’s already got it under control.”

Blink. “Some…oh.”

“Hey, you,” Undyne said, moving around Asgore and hopping down the stairs in one easy bound. “How’d it go? Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, ‘m just worn out.” Sans let out a full-force yawn. “I’ll walk back with you guys,” he said as Alphys came down the steps.

“All right, then,” Asgore murmured. “Thank you again, Sans.” The skeleton nodded, and they politely waited for the door to close before turning to leave.

“Don’t even think about it” was the first thing out of Undyne’s mouth. “She’s asleep already.”

Sans was too tired not to ask, “Where? Tori’s again?”

“I’m not telling you!” snapped the fish-woman. “We had a lot of fun yesterday, but today was pretty rough on her.” She eyed him as they stepped into the elevator and waited for the grating to close. “You don’t look so hot, either.”

“I will be in a minute.” Sans swayed on his feet as the elevator descended. “After all, we’re goin’ to Hotland.”

Undyne twitched. “Nope. We’re not doing those.”

“Aww, c’mon, fish-face.” Yawn. “I’m just gettin’ warmed up.”

Twitch. “I’m serious, boss. Drop it.”

“Drop it like…it’s hot?”

“I SAID—”

The elevator ground to a halt, and he felt Alphys tug on his coat. “L-let’s go to my lab, Sans. You can take a nap and get some magic back befo—not yet!”

Sans had the impression of falling and something grabbing him, but he didn’t pay much attention till Undyne heaved him onto the lab’s concrete floor. “Ow,” he tried to say, but it was too much effort; he decided to pass out instead.

They weren’t heading to the family’s main house; for some reason, Asriel had insisted she come with him to the one in the Ruins, where he and his mother had been living before the delegation arrived. He’d told her that he had a surprise for her, but he was so anxious that she didn’t think it was going to be a good one.

Good or not, she had to admit that when Asriel opened the bedroom door and motioned her inside, she was very surprised: she backpedaled so hard that she crashed into his legs.

“It’s all right,” said Chara, very quietly, from her seat on the bed. “I wouldn’t be glad to see me, either.”

“Chara,” Asriel protested.

“It’s true.” The woman watched Frisk lean into Asriel, clutching his robe with one small hand. “Isn’t it, Frisk?” she added.

The child inhaled sharply, looking up at the Prince in alarm. “It’s all right,” he told her, smiling with such affection that she had to smile back. “I know all about you, Frisk. You’re ten years old, and you’re a girl, and you belong here. In fact, you could say you’ve come home.” He looked at Chara, beaming. “Right, sis?”

Sans must have teleported from the lab at some point – maybe in his sleep – because when he properly awoke, he was in his own room. The boss monster sat up and turned the light on with a speck of magic. A glance at the clock made him do a double take: how was it almost ten o’clock?! Sans sprang to his feet and zipped down to the living room.

No one was there, but he heard children running around outside, with the occasional shriek of happiness, or anger, or possibly disembowelment—he never could tell with kids. There was Papyrus’ voice, and Undyne’s; then he heard Frisk, and without thinking, he took another shortcut out beside the house.

Before San could get his bearings, a handful of snow hit him upside the head. “Morning, boss!” shouted Undyne. “About time!”

“GOOD MORNING, BROTHER!” Papyrus raised his head from beneath a pile of children. “WE ARE AT WAR! WOULD YOU CARE TO JOIN US?”

Sans blinked. “War?”

“Yes, indeed,” Frisk said gravely, and he looked up to see her standing on the balcony, not far above his eye level. Magic rippled through him in gentle waves as she smiled. “Is everyone ready?” she asked the monsters.

The giant skeleton came forward for a better view as the children sprang to their feet, or paws, or seahorse tail. Frisk dipped something into a narrow bottle, raised it to her mouth, and leaned over the railing to blow a stream of huge, wobbly, fast-floating bubbles.

In an instant, the kids were charging after them, leaping and clawing and even biting them joyfully out of the air. Frisk dipped the stick again and angled herself toward Papyrus to blow another round of bubbles; instead of popping them, the younger skeleton surrounded each one in blue and sent them flying in all directions, which was Undyne’s cue to materialize a short spear and leap after them, yelling, “Come back here, you cowards!”

When the last bubble had been vanquished, Frisk made even more of them, almost obscuring the pack of children; this time, Papyrus used his magic to grab all the bubbles, and instead of chasing after them, the kids tackled him again. Undyne coordinated the assault, directing her troops to surround the enemy and attack as a unit, ignoring Papyrus’ protests of being muuuurdered and that she could not have his pirate-ship bed once he was dust, because for the hundredth time even if she did have an eyepatch that did not mean she deserved to be a pirate more than him. Then everyone scattered again for Frisk to send another batch the kids’ way, and two more groups for Papyrus to keep away from Undyne.

It was hard to say who was enjoying themselves the most. Sans hadn’t seen his brother playing like this in…how long? Even some of the adult monsters were coming over to watch, standing around and chatting with each other, or asking Frisk how she’d made the bubbles and happily accepting the extra bottles she tossed down for them. It was like she’d never left…

A thought struck him, and he backed further away from the house to crane his neck all the way upward. There it was, the thin brown haze of negative energy that’d been accumulating since he absorbed the last round of it. …But—

Sans had avoided looking too directly at Frisk, and tried to take another quick peek now, only for his eyes to lock onto her. She’d taken off her cloak, revealing one of probably many new outfits: a dark-green velvet dress that accented the curves of her bust and hips, silver earrings that shimmered as she bent down to refill the bottle, and gray boots that reminded him of the fact that she had feet.

And when he finally managed to look back up toward her face, he was ambushed by the sight of a black choker. The damn thing looked like a collar, but it wasn’t even trying to be practical; it was just a little bit of lace hugging her neck, and a flagrant reminder that most things wearing collars had nothing else on. He’d contemplated keeping her as a pet, once upon a time, before he even—

Suddenly, Undyne vaulted onto his shoulder, crashing his nasal ridge into the bottom edge of the balcony. The Royal Guard Captain rapped him on the skull with the butt of her spear, dispelling the last of his lust-induced stupor. “Quit staring, moron,” she hissed, and gestured to Frisk. “C’mon, lady, we need more bad guys to kill,” the fish monster said in a normal tone, raising her voice to finish, “unless Papyrus is too weak to keep going!”

“I AM NOT!” The skeleton stomped his foot in feeble rage, trying to catch his breath as Undyne leapt down. “BUT PERHAPS…PERHAPS WE COULD TAKE A BREAK, FOR THE CHILDREN?” Two small monsters ran circles around him as he desperately added, “THEY SEEM VERY TIRED, NYEH-HEH!”

Frisk bit her lip, and Sans wanted more than ever to scoop her up for a giant hug—not only was it always hot when she did that, it meant she wanted to help Pap without hurting his feelings. Luckily for everyone, his mouth-related thoughts suddenly turned in a more wholesome direction. “Hey,” Sans murmured, catching her attention. “Ya know what you oughta do?”

The others stopped as Frisk leaned down to hear him whisper. “That’s a wonderful idea,” the priestess said warmly, and Sans felt his skull turn red. “Here, Undyne, I want the children to help me try something,” Frisk told her, dipping the wand again. “You two can supervise.”

Papyrus was happy to accept his new role, and Sans also paid close attention to Frisk’s lips as she blew a long, low stream of smaller bubbles. The kids grabbed at them and squealed as a sound followed each pop—to their delight, every bubble now contained a tiny burst of music.

Undyne reached out to poke one. “What, did you whistle into ‘em?” She jumped at the sudden sound, then laughed, popping another one. “That’s so damn cool!”

“Sans thought of it,” Frisk said. She was grinning from ear to ear, almost prancing in place. “Here!” This time, instead of a single pitch, she whistled a scale of several notes, sliding up and back down; when the children popped them, it produced a whole tangle of sounds. The adult monsters drew closer as more bubbles drifted and burst, scattering bits of music through the chilly air.

“Yo!” cried Monster Kid, bounding nearly straight up for emphasis. “Guys! Let’s try to make ‘em into a song again!”

The adults chuckled and shook their heads, but the children loved the idea. And as it turned out, they were right: the sheer futility of trying to break the bubbles in the right order was so much fun that, before they knew it, nearly every monster in the field was chasing after them. No one could hear much of anything over all the shouting and laughter, but that was okay. Everything was okay.

“Sans?”

Still smiling, the giant skeleton turned to face Toriel, noting that she was coming from the ferry and not the Ruins. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“We’re slaughtering our foes in glorious battle,” a cute little bunny said in passing. “It sounds pretty!”

“LIKE THIS, YOUR MAJESTY!” Papyrus demonstrated with a couple of quick jabs.

Toriel’s eyes widened as the sounds made a faint chord. “How wonderful!” She looked in amazement at the crowd of happy, energetic monsters. “You haven’t even received your rations yet—is this an early celebration?”

“Nah, it’s just fun,” Undyne said cheerfully. “People were fighting over who was gonna get what, and the kids were upset, so Frisk showed ‘em how she could make this stuff. Next thing you know—” Quick as scaled lightning, the Captain flicked an energy-toothpick at a bubble overhead, grinning at the resultant chime. “F sharp! Nice.” With a salute to Toriel, Undyne was off again, lifting a couple of random children onto her shoulders.

“How wonderful,” Toriel said again. She sighed, looking fondly up at the balcony. Frisk was starting to puff a bit, but clearly determined to keep going. “What a fine young woman she’s become! It’s almost like having Chara back with us.”

Sans shuffled his slippered feet. He knew it was the highest compliment Toriel could give, but the comparison really rubbed him the wrong way. Not only had he heard a lot of things recently, he couldn’t shake the dream he’d just had—the Prince so eager to have Frisk and Chara back together, and the child trying to be good, but unable to hide her fear and uncertainty…

And speaking of Asriel: “Tell her I’m sorry.” What was that about? Who was—

Suddenly, the dreams clicked together in his mind like puzzle pieces. Asriel had tricked Frisk into meeting with Chara, knowing perfectly well that the poor kid didn’t want to. Was he only sorry for that, or had something else happened afterward, awful enough to make Asriel want to apologize from beyond the friggin’ grave?

Toriel was saying something, and the skeleton shook his head. “Sorry, Tori. What was that?”

She cleared her throat. “I was asking if you’ve met the boy who’s courting her. Frisk said he’s very kind, and wealthy, but…she didn’t seem terribly enthusiastic.”

Sans almost laughed out loud. So much crap was going on that he’d actually forgotten about that guy! “Had some girl talk, huh?” he asked carelessly, shoving his emotions way, way back down and hoping his eyes weren’t glowing.

The goat monster chuckled, still watching the field. “We stayed up the other night to discuss where to distribute all the food you were bringing. Afterward, yes, we did talk about her love life.”

He made an indifferent noise. He was fine. He could do this. “I met the guy once,” he said. “Kinda boring, but I guess he could be worse.”

Toriel nodded. Her ear twitched as a longer, sweeter trill came from above—Frisk was pulling out all the stops, Sans thought proudly. “Were you there when she spoke to the fortune-teller?” she asked.

The skeleton made himself shrug, as if he wasn’t screaming internally. Stupid girl talk! How much had Frisk told her?

Well, the fact that Toriel hadn’t murdered the shit out of him meant she probably didn’t know everything yet. How she was failing to connect the dots between Frisk and Sans’ human love interest was beyond him, but he’d keep playing along for now. “Yeah, I went with her to that festival,” he said. “Pretty weird stuff. Apparently, she’s on track to have a kid soon.”

Toriel grimaced. “I certainly hope not. Frisk is much too young for that kind of responsibility.”

Sans snorted, and Toriel turned to glare at him. “Sorry, but ya haven’t seen her in action,” he said. “The first time I met her, she kept me from killin’ a whole bunch of people, all by herself, an’ she wouldn’t let ‘em kill me back. She got all bloody fixin’ up some kid who came to ‘er for help at two in the morning, she’s payin’ everything for three or four different orphanages that I know of, she keeps tabs on anyone in the whole damn kingdom who might need help, and she’s workin’ on freein’ us, too.” He shook his head. “She’s not a little kid anymore, Tori. She’s got so much crap ta deal with, and she’s been takin’ care of it all on her own. As long as she finds the right guy, it’s…”

He had to stop before he got any more worked up. Luckily, Toriel was too deep in thought to notice. “That does sound impressive, but you’re right. Her happiness depends on whether she can find a good husband, one she can trust to stand by her and care about her children—”

Now they were both grim and silent. “Just a few more,” the human called from above them.

She sounded so breathless that Sans shook his head, reaching up to tap on the railing. “Hey, Frisk? Quit it before ya pass out.”

Toriel listened for a moment, then nodded. Sans watched her stride out to the middle of the field and clap her hands. “Everyone,” she said, “I am glad you’ve enjoyed yourselves, but please return to your homes now. The Royal Guard will be here shortly to deliver your share of the supplies that Frisk arranged for us and Sans brought in last night.” The former Queen nodded benignly in their direction. “Thank you, both of you.”

The giant skeleton was rather embarrassed by the round of applause that followed, though Frisk seemed to take it in stride. Then again, it could be the fact that she was barely conscious. “Time to come in, Pap,” Sans said, jerking his head as the monsters bid each other cheerful farewells and went their separate ways. The children still seemed more excited about the bubbles than the prospect of food—were the poor little bastards just used to being hungry by now?

There was no need to ask Undyne to take care of Frisk: she had already jumped straight onto the balcony and was assisting the human inside. Sans teleported into the living room, where he immediately got in the way of the Captain half-carrying her down to the couch. “’m fine,” Frisk muttered.

Sans leaned over her, scowling. “Ya need your breath, kid. Don’t use it all up next time.” Now that he was closer, he could also see dark circles under her eyes. “How much sleep didja get last night?” he demanded, and looked at Undyne. “Were you guys at Tori’s house?”

“No,” the goat monster said, shutting the door behind her and coming to sit beside Frisk. “Mettaton kept her up so late that she spent the night at the resort.” Toriel’s hand came up, glowing green, and brushed Frisk’s cheek. “If you had stayed with me, child, I’d have made sure you rested properly.”

The priestess rubbed some feeling back into her lips. “I beg to differ,” she said a moment later. “Remember how afraid I was to fall asleep that second night? Undyne was already mad because I caught her cheating at cards—”

The Captain swelled like a pufferfish. “For the last time, I didn’t frickin’ cheat! My 6 got stuck behind my queen, and I didn’t know it was there when you asked for it!”

“Mmmm-hm.” Frisk let her head fall against Toriel’s shoulder as the goat monster stroked her hair. Sans had to look away, more irritated than ever—how stupid was it to be jealous of someone mothering her? Especially considering what she’d had for an actual mom…

“Anyway,” said Undyne. She glanced at Sans, saw his expression, and whacked him again to get his attention. “You know what your damn human did to me?” Frisk smirked as Undyne pantomimed writing huge letters across her own face. “GO FISH. Is that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard, or what?”

Sans snickered. “What? She was probably just being supportive. You know, ‘go—”

Frisk and Toriel dissolved into laughter as the Captain smacked her forehead with one webbed hand. “Argh! That’s the same dumb thing she said!”

“It’s all right,” the human said, in what Sans gleefully recognized as her pre-pun voice. “I guess our humor is just that sofishticated.”

“NOOOOO,” moaned Papyrus, who had just come inside. “NOT YOU, TOO, NYEHH!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Sans, winking at Toriel as she covered her face with one hand. “Are you mad enough to krill someone?”

“SO HELP ME, YOU TWO, I WILL LEAVE THIS HOUSE AND NEVER—”

“But it’s so nice to sea you,” Frisk said, and Sans snorted so hard that he had to sit down before he fell over. Toriel was giggling uncontrollably, clutching her sides; Undyne just shook her head and retreated into the storage room behind the kitchen cabinet.

Papyrus looked mollified. “YES, I KNOW. BUT I—” He stopped, and they nearly died as they watched it hit him. “GRAAAAH! IF HER MAJESTY WAS NOT HERE, I’D—”

“It’s all right, Papyrus,” Toriel said behind her hand. “I know I can trust you to control your temper.” Papyrus nodded, and the goat monster added, “You’ve always been a pacifisht!”

Undyne poked her head into the kitchen, raising her voice over the din: “Pap! Get away from those nerds and come help me! We need to make room for your stuff when it gets here.”

The younger skeleton sighed dramatically, even for him. “NYEH-HEH! I SUPPOSE I MAY AS WELL. AT LEAST SOMEONE AROUND HERE WILL BE DOING SOMETHING USEFUL!”

“Thank you. You’re the least shellfish person we know,” squeaked Frisk, at which Papyrus made an incoherent sound and stormed off into the kitchen.

Sans was pounding the floor, the women nearly sobbing. “Children—children, please,” Toriel said weakly, wiping her eyes. “Really, it’s time to calm down now.” A long pause… “We can’t keep kraken up like this!”

“Oh my God, they’re gonna kill themselves,” Undyne grumbled from the storage room. They had closed the cabinet door, but it wasn’t soundproof enough. “Let’s move some of this stuff to the shed, and…hey, what’s this?” She picked up a heavy package lying in the back corner. “Huh. Looks like one of Frisk’s. Pap, go ask—”

“SANS! POSSIBLY FRISK!” Papyrus charged into the living room, hoisting the box over his head and nearly tripping over his brother. “IS THIS A FORGOTTEN PUZZLE?! MAY I OPEN IT TO KEEP IT COMPANY?”

“Oh!” Frisk gave a last snrk and accepted a clean handkerchief from Toriel to wipe her face. “Actually, Papyrus, that one is for Sans.”

“Wha?” The giant skeleton sat up and quirked a brow at her. “What’re you talkin’ about? I was with ya when we bought all this crap, and I don’t remember you gettin’ me anything.”

“That’s because you weren’t paying attention,” the priestess retorted.

…She had a point. There had been quite a few times when they were in a shop and he was so bored that she could’ve been plotting the death of all monsterkind without him noticing.

“SURPRISE PUZZLES ARE THE BEST KIND! OPEN IT ALREADY!” urged Papyrus, shoving the gift at his brother’s face.

“Yeah, boss,” Undyne said from the kitchen. “Don’t be so damn shy.”

“I’m not bein’ shy! I just…I wasn’t expectin’ it.” Scowling, Sans grabbed the package and dug his phalanges into the lid. One good rip would get this over w—

“Sans!” Frisk’s voice made him hunch his shoulders like a guilty kid. “If you tear it open like that and break something, I will end you! Do you understand?”

The others watched the colossal skeleton set the package down gently, unwrapping the paper and moving it aside as though it was made of glass. Toriel and Undyne exchanged disbelieving glances as Sans located the box’s tucked-in corners, eased them loose, and picked at the ribbons tying it shut.

But a moment later, as he removed the last layers of tissue paper, their amusement faded into gasps and murmurs. Inside the box lay a chessboard gleaming in white marble and flawless onyx, each of the pieces individually wrapped and set in neat rows.

Undyne chose one at random and peeled the paper away to reveal a knight astride a black pegasus, wings spread and hooves ready to strike. “Whoa!” She picked another, this one a rook carved in the shape of a ruined tower, complete with crumbling bricks and a few tiny bird’s nests in the windows. “Where’d you find this?! Are you gonna teach him how to play?”

“We did most nights back at the castle.” Frisk shrugged. “He beat me every time.”

“Incredible,” murmured Toriel. She took the knight and held it up to examine the sculpting of its plumelike tail. “Humans have such an amazing capacity for beauty. I never could understand…” The goat monster sighed, handing the piece back. “What do you think, Sans?”

Sans couldn’t answer. He’d calmed down a lot after all the fish puns, and he would have been fine just hanging out with everyone until the Royal Guard came by. He hadn’t known Frisk was going to give him anything, much less something beautiful and thoughtful and completely perfect—like her, dammit. How was he supposed to stop feeling all these feelings when she kept doing things?

The pause became more and more uncomfortable as he glowered at the chessboard, heat building around his SOUL until he wanted more than ever to just rip his clothes off right there. “PSST! BROTHER!” Papyrus nudged him. “YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO SAY, ‘THANK YOU FOR THE MAGNIFICENT PUZZLE, NYEH-HEH! I SHOULD ASK THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO PLAY IT WITH ME, AND WEEP GENTLY WHEN I LOSE!’”

Sans fidgeted, and Frisk looked expectant. “This’s…ya know, ya didn’t hafta waste a bunch more money on somethin’ we—” His head snapped up, startling everyone. “Hey, there’s the Royal Guard! They probably need help, right? Let’s go help!”

“SANS,” Papyrus began, and huffed as his brother disappeared. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I TOLD HIM TO SAY AT ALL! HOW DID HE GET IT SO VERY WRONG?”

Sans was not surprised by the others’ reactions when they joined him a few minutes later at the cart by the town Christmas tree. He could only imagine what they’d been saying, though the glare Undyne was giving him made her opinion pretty clear.

“Good day,” Toriel said to the cat monster holding the supply list, ignoring Sans entirely. The cart had just come through Waterfall, the sacks and crates patterned with condensation that was already freezing into ice crystals. “I have a very selfish request,” the former Queen continued. “As you know, I was awake for the entire night, and I am extremely weary. I would like to bring my share home with me now, unless of course you need me to—”

“You were up the whole night, Lady Toriel?” Frisk repeated, one hand on the side of the cart. She frowned, then rounded on Sans so fast that he flinched. “You want to be helpful, don’t you? Then you can take her and her things back to the Ruins!” An imperious gesture at the three guards. “The list, please,” she ordered in her High Priestess voice.

The cat-lady handed it over, bemused. The tiny human ran her finger down the page, nodded, and turned to the cart. “It should all in that crate, there, and that stack of—look where I’m pointing! Yes, that one, and those over there. No, don’t put it—”

Sans obeyed her as fast as he could, setting the boxes neatly beside Toriel. Frisk checked them over again, then handed the list back to the feline guard. “That should be correct, but if you find any discrepancies, let me know. Has everything gone according to plan so far? No thefts or serious disputes?”

“No, milady,” the guard replied. “We should be finished by this evening at the latest.”

Frisk smiled. “Excellent work. Please keep it up.”

The Royal Guard all saluted. Toriel’s eyebrows were raised, and Sans wished she’d look at him so he could mouth Told you so. “Good job, guys,” said Undyne, not bothering to hide her grin. “It looks like you’ve got this under control, so Frisk and I are gonna go see Alphys now. You coming, Pap?”

“HMM.” He glanced from her to his brother and crossed his arms, clearly torn. “SHOULDN’T I STAY AND HELP PUT OUR FOOD AWAY?”

“Oh, but Sans wants to help so much, we shouldn’t take that from him.” Undyne looked daggers – spears? – at the giant skeleton. “He can come right back here and do it after he drops off Her Majesty. Right?”

Dammit. “Right,” grunted Sans.

Frisk was already starting to turn away. He cast around for an excuse to talk to her again, and said, “Hey.” She glanced at him as he rummaged in his inner pockets. “Ya want those invoices back?”

The priestess frowned at him. He hated it when she did that, especially when he deserved it. “I suppose it could be useful when I talk to His Majesty.” She started to extend a hand, and her eyes widened. “That’s right,” she said to the guards. “Did you give him my note?”

“Yes.” The dragon guard cleared his throat. “He said no.”

“What R02 meant to say,” the cat monster, “is that King Asgore regrets he will not be available to speak with anyone today.”

“But he does want to talk to Sans,” the rabbit said helpfully, “and Dr. Alphys.”

“I see,” Frisk murmured. “Thank you.” As Undyne glared at R01, the human stepped back, pulling her cloak around her. “You’d better keep them to show His Majesty, then.”

Sans shrugged, rolled the papers back up, and opened his coat wider to find exactly where they’d been. All he could think about was reaching over to tug down her choker where it was riding too high on her throat; he forgot what else was in his pockets till he noticed her staring at something inside his coat. His SOUL tingled in alarm: the King’s golden envelope was sticking up partway, with the letters FRISK D showing. “Sans? What is that?”

“…Uh.” Fuck. It was too late to disappear again. He glanced around at everyone listening, and at Frisk, who was already unhappy because of him. Was this really the time to tell her what her father was planning, and that the humans all knew her name now? “It’s…I-I’ll show ya later, I promise. There’s a bunch of stuff we’ve gotta talk about.”

Her frown deepened. “Agreed.” Just like that, Frisk turned to smile at Papyrus. “Shall we?”

“CERTAINLY!” He gallantly held his arm out to her, neither of them noticing how Sans’ socket twitched.

Before the bigger skeleton could say something stupid, a touch on his radius made him spin around. “If you could take me home now, I would greatly appreciate it,” Toriel said quietly.

“Sure.” He gave Frisk one last glance. “Have fun, guys.”

Undyne made another face at him, and Papyrus waved. “GOODBYE, SANS! HAVE FUN! PLEASE BE USEFUL TO HER MAJESTY AND NOT RUN OFF AGAIN BECAUSE YOU ARE EMOTIONALLY INCOMPETENT!”

Sans twitched again, and Frisk smirked. “Have a good rest, Lady Toriel,” she said over her shoulder.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Toriel replied cheerfully. But the moment the trio was out of sight, the goat monster’s smile vanished. “Back to the Ruins, please,” she said coolly.

Sans had a headache already. “Yes’m,” he mumbled. At least all this inner turmoil meant he was generating plenty of magic: she laid a hand on his arm, he made a swiping gesture at the crates, and they were all standing in the entryway of Toriel’s house, easy as butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

“I wish I could do that,” the goat monster commented, not for the first time. “Can you bring those to the kitchen for me?” She strode ahead, briskly opening cabinets and moving things aside to make room. “Also, please tell me what the matter is.”

Sans grunted, twitching a finger to waft the crates over. “Do me a favor, Tori, and gimme a check. You can probably see it for yerself.”

Toriel obligingly turned and squinted at his SOUL. “Good heavens,” she said after a moment, and looked up at him. “Sans, what in the world…?”

If it looked half as turbulent as it felt, then it was probably pretty scary. “I wasn’t kiddin’ the other night,” he muttered.

“I…didn’t think you were. Still…” She rubbed her eyes, swaying a little with sheer tiredness. “I did want to ask you something. I heard you telling the guards last night that you inspected the carts alongside someone you trusted. By any chance, was that…?”

Well, there was a convenient misunderstanding if he’d ever heard one. “Was that what? Someone I’m totally nuts about an’ hafta stay away from because she’s a human, and just friggin’ deal with it?” He rapped on his chest. “Does it look like I’m dealin’ with it?”

“No, you are not.” Toriel crossed her arms at the waist. “Sans. I know this must be difficult for you, but—”

“Let’s play pretend for a minute,” he said conversationally. “Imagine I came up to you sometime real soon with a human an’ said, ‘Here ya go, meet the wife.’” Just saying the word made his SOUL ache further. “What would you do?”

Her eyes narrowed to golden slits. “It would depend,” Toriel said with deceptive calmness, “whether you would prefer I be kind, or truthful. Do you want my blessing to try and find happiness for a few short years, and to be even more alone in the world once she d—”

That did it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tori! Ya think I don’t know how screwed I am?” Sans snarled, and her mouth fell open. “I didn’t tell you about this so you could give me a kick in the goddamn teeth! I told ya ‘cause I wanted to talk with somebody who might have some idea what I’m goin’ through! If that’s too much to ask, just fuckin’ forget about it!”

“I am sorry, Sans! I truly am!” There was a puff of smoke as Toriel threw her hands up. “If you could marry a human, I would be the first to congratulate you! But as things are…” Her face contorted. “What does my opinion even matter? You know that I have no power here, no matter how many people keep calling me ‘Majesty’! I can do nothing to help you!”

“You could still be my goddamn friend! That’s all I wanted!” He kicked at nothing. “But no, yer so worried about botherin’ little ol’ Gorey that—”

Whump.

Sans stared at the scorch mark at his feet, a smoking, blackened ring on the tiles. Then he looked at Toriel, whose hand was still aimed at the floor, her chest heaving as though she’d run the entire length of the Underground. “Do not. Talk to me. About. Asgore,” she said through gritted fangs. “That wretched man has already cost me my entire family! Do you think I enjoy catering to his paranoia and living in fear that someone else I care for will be banished, or die? What do you think he would do if you were to wed a human? What would happen to you, and to her? If Asgore decided you were truly a threat—”

He could feel his eyes burning, and didn’t trust himself to say anything. Toriel gulped. “It is not safe for you to marry a human, Sans. It is not safe for any human down here! You’ve seen it for yourself! Frisk is the only one he will even tolerate, and he could still…” Another shake of her head, ears flapping against her cheeks. “You know Asgore. All he has to do is ignore her until she leaves. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?” The goat-woman buried her face in her hands. “Those damned men would just shrug and say that she failed in her mission, and I would never see her again! I can’t lose anyone else, Sans! I can’t—”

The skeleton’s anger subsided as he watched the former Queen’s shoulders rise and fall. He took a couple of steps toward her, sliding his hands into his pockets. “What happened with Chara?” he asked quietly. “Why wouldn’t he let her come back?”

Toriel’s fingers curled, claws digging into her muzzle. “It wasn’t her fault,” she muttered, eyes hard and dry. “He said he didn’t blame her, but he still agreed to send her away. And when that bastard human would not marry her as he promised, Chara needed us—she needed her family! But Asgore said she was lying, and he sent her away again! I didn’t see my little girl for ten years, Sans! And then—”

Sans stayed silent. Toriel let her arms fall, and slid down against the cabinet until she was slumped on the kitchen floor. “I got her back, and it was too late. She hated us both,” she said dully. “She died hating me, Sans. And she was right. I couldn’t protect her from Asgore, and when the accident happened, I could not protect her or Asriel. I was right there, and I could do nothing! All I did was send the humans away, and he even begrudged me that!” The goat monster gripped her robe, nearly puncturing the fabric. “Now my only friend comes to me for a sympathetic ear, and what do I do? I sneer at him for confiding in me and complain about my troubles!” She scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m completely useless, as always.”

“Don’t say that, Tori! Remember that one little thing where ya kept the humans from declarin’ war on us an’ sealing the whole damn Underground? Besides…” Sans shuddered as something else came to him. “For all we know, he woulda had Kris killed, too.” He crouched to her eye level. “You saved Frisk’s life, Tori. Are you sayin’ that wasn’t worth somethin’?”

She swallowed again. “I…I don’t—”

“An’ she grew up to be High Priestess, and she saved my life when I got caught. If it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead, and I’d be dead or worse.” He shook his head. “If she was dead, we wouldn’t be gettin’ any food deliveries, or monsters comin’ home, or random bubble parties—” Despite himself, he chuckled. “Or fish puns—”

Toriel managed a smile. “That was fun, wasn’t it? Poor Papyrus.” She gave a long, deep sigh. “I may have saved her life, but as far as I am concerned, you are the reason she has come back to us. Thank you, Sans.” The goat monster got to her feet and wiped her eyes again on her sleeve. “I…I still don’t know what to tell you about your human. I haven’t even asked you her name, what she is like, how far your relationship has progressed—may I assume you intend to keep courting her?”

“Uh…” Sans ducked his head, scuffing his slipper over the burned floor tiles. “Tell you the truth, she’s kinda the one courtin’ me.”

“Sans!” the goat monster scolded him. “You’ve found a woman with enough magic, strength of mind, and good taste to fall in love with you, and you’re letting her do all the work?”

The skeleton scratched his neck vertebrae. “…Yeah?”

Toriel gave him one of her squinty, pursed-mouth glares, and he held up his hands. “I know, I know! It’s just…there’s all this stuff, but it’s her, an’ I never met a her before, an’ I—”

“All right, all right.” Toriel sighed again. “I still wish you would change your mind, but I understand that it’s not so simple.” She couldn’t conceal a yawn. “We can talk more when I’ve had some rest. I promise.” To his surprise, she took his hand and gave it a good squeeze. “In the meantime, go and help the Royal Guards, and then apologize to Frisk. That was the most lovely gift imaginable, and you behaved as though she’d handed you a steaming pile of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sans lifted one shoulder. “Okay, Ma, I promise I’ll be good. Go get some sleep.”

“Yes, dear. And, Sans—” She gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. “I hate to be intrusive, but…if everyone is gathered again this evening, could I please join you? If it’s all right with the others?”

Sans made a rude noise. “Of course I’ll come ‘n get you. We’re almost halfway through her offishal visit.”

Toriel laughed. “Well, water you still doing here? Go on!”

He chucked, raising a hand. “‘Kay. See ya, Toriel.”

“Thank you, Sans.” She swatted at him playfully, letting him dodge out of the way. “Now, shoo!”

#songfell #why am i like this for reals

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demonwifey · 4 years

Text

Beetlejuice Drooling Headcanons 🤤

So basically there’s a new bootleg and during Creepy Old Guy you can see Alex’s drool in it. I thought why not be a gross hoe and make some headcanons for Beej based off of it. This has the potential to be either really gross or really cute, depending on how you wanna look at it. But I know I’m trash so I’m gonna go with cute. There’s NSFW (18+) further down. Hope you guys enjoy!💜🖤💚

SFW

- Beej is literally a drool machine.

- He literally has spit coming out everywhere at any time.

- He always drools when you’re making food and it smells way too good.

- You’ll just be in the kitchen stirring a pot of whatever and he’ll pop up behind you, lay his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around you. Next thing you know you feel a damp spot on your shirt.

- “Mmm, whatcha cookin’, doll?”

- “Just some stew for dinner- Beej, why are you drooling so much?!”

- That goes hand and hand when he’s eating too. Does this boy get any of the food in his mouth? No. It’s like that scene in Beauty and the Beast when he eats all sloppy and the whole tables a mess.

- “Beej, you’re getting food everywhere.”

- “...Sorry, babes.”

- Beetlejuice is also so chaotic and his mannerisms are all over the place which includes his fast talking and screaming.

- He’s running around the living telling you stories about the Netherworld while you lay on the couch listening. Next thing you know you’ll just feel random trickles of water coming from nowhere.

- Is it a leak in the ceiling?

- NO, IT’S YOUR DEAD BOYFRIEND SPITTING EVERYFUCKINGWHERE

- Sloppy kisses? 100%

- You thought his over animated dip kisses were bad. Add the drool and it’s like 10 times worse.

- You’re trying to get ready for work and to say goodbye he dips you but now you’ve got spit all over your mouth. Or even if it’s just a kiss on the cheek.

- Either way, you’ve got to go back to the bathroom and clean up while he’s laughing at you.

- This is definitely unavoidable when he’s sleeping.

- There’s. Drool. ALL. OVER. YOU.

- It’s either: he’s laying on your chest and in the middle of the night and you get up to use the bathroom, but you can’t because you’ve got this 200 pound dead guy on top of you, when you feel him drooling on you.

- You both are laying on the couch. You’re scrolling through your phone and bugboy is taking a nap on your lap. Not even 10 minutes into his nap, you see drool coming from where his mouth is.

- “Dammit, Beej I just showered!” But you whisper because you don’t want to wake him up

- Beej LOVES when you clean him up too

- He doesn’t do it on purpose but he can’t help fall even more in love with you when you take a towel or napkin and wipe his face while speaking little concerns about it to him.

- And while you’re focusing on trying to get all of it from his chin and jaw, he’s staring at you with full on heart eyes.

- Having this adorable little breather take care of him so gently just makes him feel so mushy inside.

- This poor dead man loves you more than he could tell.

NSFW

- Beej most definitely drools while watching you get undressed.

- You come in after work and you’re getting changed in your room and it’s just a waterfall coming from his mouth. All you did was take off your shirt and it’s over with.

- He takes the opportunity to stare at you all day everyday.

- Washing dishes in your underwear? Drool.

- Bending down to pick up your car keys? Drool.

- Wearing his jacket because it’s a little cold in the house? Drool.

- Walking out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel? sometimes not even that because he steals it while you're showering DROOL.

- IF.👏🏽YOU.👏🏽 WEAR.👏🏽 LINGERIE.👏🏽 FOR.👏🏽 HIM.👏🏽IT.👏🏽 IS.👏🏽 A.👏🏽 WRAP.👏🏽

- Imagine you walking into your bedroom wearing a set you just bought and it makes you feel like the sexiest person alive. Beej is laying on your bed looking at some random book off your desk.

- “Oh, Beej~”

- He turns his head and literally throws the book off the bed.

- “Holy fuck, babes. You wore that just for me?”

- “Mmm, maybe~”

- As you’re sauntering over feeling on top of the world and he’s only focused on you.

- Once you’re all the way near him, you see it.

- Drool. Yet again. All down his jaw. Not that you complained this time. It oddly boosted your confidence even more.

- Obviously you have to wipe him down a little before yall start, not that it’s any use. It’s all downhill from here, friend

- Everything with Beej is sloppy and wet.

- You’re wiping some of the drool from his chin when he looks at you with those loving eyes and just slams his mouth onto yours.

- And I think we all have a mutual consensus that Beej’s head game is 100. But oh boy his drool makes it even more fun.

- Sloppy head?👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽

- You’re feeling all types of pleasure and then it’s hard to tell if you’re just really wet or if it’s Beej’s drool when actually it’s both

- Oh my god, when he pulls away after making you cum like 3 times there’s a small trail of saliva and cum hanging from his lip. If that didn’t turn you on even more than you already were.

- You basically yank him up by his suspenders and smash your lips on his.

- The things you do while riding him holy shit, bro.

- While you're grinding on top of him, you’ll reach down and slowly stick your fingers in his mouth and then move them back to rub your clit. He’s gone utterly feral at that point, groaning louder and pounding into you with so much desperation.

- Or even if you guys are going slow and making love, you still find a way to clean him up in the middle of it. You reach down and place hands hands on his cheeks, wiping away some of the saliva with your thumbs. He reaches up to gently touch one of your hands.

- “You don’t have to do that, babes.”

- “No, I do. Ah~ before you drown yourself.”

- And he’s just laughing hysterically before flipping you two. Now he's staring into your eyes lovingly and your whole body feels weak.

- “You always take such good care of me, doll.” While he’s leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. This man has the damn nerve to sweet talk you while thrusting into you. The gawl.

- “It’s just a little drool, Beej.” You were tied between giggling and moaning.

- Once you guys finish you’re on your back breathing heavily and he's next to on his side. Again, heart eyes everywhere.

- “I love you, babes.” You turn on your side to look directly at him.

- “I know, Beej. And I love you too. Now come here.” As you grab his head to lay it on your chest. He wraps his arms around you in a big bear hug.

- “I’d rather have your drool on me than on my pillows.”

I’m disgusting, we been knew. Thanks for reading!💜🖤💚

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice headcanons

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carmenlire · 4 years

Text

Become Your Flower

read on ao3

Jimin sits down behind the register with a sigh. Working as a dining hall card swiper has one perk and one perk only-- it pays for the part of tuition not covered by loans and scholarships.

Thankfully today is only a two hour shift, not his usual four, and so as he reaches out to start swiping about a hundred campus I.D. cards, Jimin tells himself that it could be worse.

That’s never been truer towards the end of his shift, when his ass is mostly numb and he’s starting to look for his replacement to show up at any minute. On Thursday mornings, his replacement is always an extremely dour sophomore who spends more time on her shift looking at her phone than actually swiping meal plans.

Jimin’s seen regulars during her shifts swipe their own cards without hesitation as Jessica obliviously continues to stare at her phone.

Still. There’s about eight minutes left until shift change when Jimin sees him.

Jimin doesn’t know much about the guy that comes to the Dining Hall every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning. He knows that his fashion runs towards black oversized clothing and that he has eclectic taste in music, thanks to wildly varying noise that can be heard from his headphones that the student always, without fail, pulls down to around his neck when checking out.

It’s a small gesture, but Jimin appreciates the hint of politeness. They never talk more than the guy murmuring a small thanks as Jimin accepts his card and runs it, before he’s walking away.

On Tuesdays, the kid likes to sit for awhile at one of the small tables along the edge of the floor to ceiling windows in the dining area. Sometimes he's reading but more often than not, he has a sketchbook out or his laptop open and seems to be completely focused on its contents. On Mondays and Thursdays, he’s usually running around picking up his usual bottle of banana milk and a breakfast burrito or protein bar before barreling out and ostensibly off to class.

Maybe Jimin pays a bit more attention to him than he does to the other students he sees with unerring frequency but he just can’t help it. Jimin doesn’t know his name but he’s pieced together a dozen tidbits of information that all add up to making the guy someone he would love to get to know better.

At the top of that list? This guy somehow manages to be both a cutie and mouthwatering, dangerously hot. It’s a level of attractiveness that sometimes makes Jimin shy away in the face of such sheer beauty. For all his oversized clothing, the guy is built-- witnessed by the one time Jimin saw him out of the dining hall one evening when he spotted the guy walking back to his dorm from the gym.

In a sleeveless tank that showed off the tattoos winding their way up his arm, with his hair damp and falling into his eyes, Jimin was done for. The next time he’d seen his favorite customer, Jimin had fumbled with his card and it had fallen to the floor.

As he’d felt his face start to burn with embarrassment at his clumsiness, the cute guy had dropped and picked up his I.D., handing it over to Jimin again with a small smile before leaving promptly like always.

Inside, Jimin had been dying but he’d managed to give a curt nod of thanks and acknowledgement back-- mostly after the guy had left but still. He’d tried.

All of which, brings Jimin to now where cute student walks into the cafeteria looking like death warmed over. His hoodie swallows him up and his hair is a mess-- looks like a combination of having left his place without running a brush through it, like he’s been running a hand through it in frustration instead. He’s single minded as he walks to the cooler where flavored milks are kept and Jimin thanks the little lull just after breakfast time for being able to, unobtrusively of course, watch the kid pick up a protein bar before he’s starting towards the register where Jimin sits.

Eyes flying down to the screen that he stares at with a laser focus, Jimin sees the guy reach for the pocket of his jeans for his wallet absently. However, he looks up when the guy starts patting his back pocket with a sort of furious panic that can only mean one thing.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, though, as he lets the guy rummage around in his bookbag looking for his student I.D. From his periphery, he sees his replacement walking towards him.

Sparing a moment to marvel at how she never trips or runs into anything with her eyes glued to her phone, Jimin reaches out to get the guys attention.

“Misplaced your meal card?”

The guy looks up with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He stammers a little, voice gruff like he hasn’t used it in a few days. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I got all the way here just to realize I left it at home.” Shoulders falling with a dejected sigh, he takes a step back. “I’ll just go put everything back, sorry again--”

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, trying to gently stop the waterfall of words coming out in an embarrassed hush. “Don’t worry about it.”

Without letting himself think too much about it, Jimin swipes his own meal plan before looking up at cute guy with a soft grin. “You’re good to go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

The guy glances between the register and Jimin’s face, which isn’t red at all thank you very much. “You shouldn’t have done that; what if you get into trouble? I should have doublechecked to make sure I had my card before making you do this--”

Laughing a little at the guy's face, which is painted in equal shades of relief and guilt, Jimin just waves his concern away. “I promise no one cares that much and no offense, but you look like you could use a good deed. I’m fine, you’re fine, no one’s getting in trouble. Looks like a win-win-win to me, doesn’t it?”

Jimin doesn’t let the smile leave his face as the guy narrows his eyes at him for a minute, looking like he’s trying to see into Jimin’s soul to make sure he hasn’t inconvenienced him. Finally, he sighs and Jimin relaxes too at his acceptance.

“Okay then,” the guy offers with his own smile curving his mouth. “Thank you,” he says with an earnest sort of sincerity that makes Jimin want to reach out and pinch his cheek. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been up for 36 hours finishing a midterm and I think I walked here in a fugue state.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Midterms are hell, second only to finals. I hope you ace your class and that your victory breakfast is a nice enough reward for surviving a couple of all-nighters.”

With a sheepish laugh, the guy resettles his bookbag on his shoulder and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sure it will. Thanks again.” Then he’s gone with an awkward wave.

Jimin doesn’t watch him leave, immediately startled by the curt clearing of a throat behind him. Spinning around in his chair, he barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes at his replacement looking annoyed as she types furiously on her phone.

“You were done two minutes ago. Get out of my chair and get to class, Park.”

Going ahead and rolling his eyes, Jimin doesn’t say anything as he logs out of his employee account and leaves the Dining Hall.

Most of the day goes by quickly. He has a couple of classes into the early afternoon followed by his dance elective. Hoseok, his favorite person in the group, is in a chatty mood when practice ends as he dramatically explains how a couple of his other friends need to get over themselves and just start to date already. Jimin laughs along as he hears about how much of an idiot these guys are being.

Apparently, the latest fiasco involves Yoongi making weekly playlists for a Joon and Joon recommending books to Yoongi, which they discuss every week at their favorite coffeeshop. Hoseok takes great pains to explain that he’d joined them the first time thinking nothing of their passing invitation only to see them cozied up together in an oversized chair in the corner, sipping their coffee and holding hands as they took turns arguing their stances on the book's subliminal messages.

“It’s maddening, Jiminie. Honestly, those two are so gone for each other and they don’t seem to realize that it’s not a bro thing to create a playlist titled Songs Almost as Comforting as One of Hyung’s Hugs and that friends don’t just discuss how romantic it would be if they had a partner who was as loving as the hero in whatever damn novel they’re were reading last month. The hinting is so obvious that it’s giving me headaches, I swear.”

“Ah Hoseokie-Hyung, maybe they’re enjoying this in between time, you know? I’m sure they’re both aware of where it’s heading but they want to enjoy the journey. Did you ever think about that?”

Hoseok snorts, leaning down to grab his water bottle before continuing. “No,” he says shortly. “Yoongi-hyung and Joon are just deeply oblivious of the other’s feelings and at this rate, they won’t have their first date until they’re old and gray.” Pausing to take a deep drink of water, Hoseok sighs. “I guess I’ll admit that neither of them seem miserable in their pining. They’ve been best friends since before I joined the-- ah, since before I started school here. It’s always been the two of them, you know?”

Humming a little in thought, Jimin wonders what it would be like to fall so naturally from friends to something more. He has Taehyung and they’re both very vocal on being platonic soulmates, but he can’t help but think that finding someone who has the warmth of a best friend and the devotion of a lover sounds like something else altogether.

With a little pang of his heart-- Jimin’s been tragically single since the end of his freshman year over a year ago-- he squashes down on the mild envy he has for people he’s never even met.

His thoughts break off as he realizes that he still hasn’t answered Hoseok and his friend is looking at him with the shrewd look he usually only reserves for reviewing dance videos.

Clearing his throat, Jimin just manages to offer, “It must be nice,” and thankfully Hoseok changes the subject with a deftness that doesn’t make Jimin feel put on the spot as they start talking about how difficult this new choreo is becoming.

Groaning, Jimin starts to stretch as Hoseok joins him on the floor. “I thought I was in shape but this song makes me feel like an old man. I’m going to start having to up my cardio so I can keep up.”

They commiserate for a few more minutes before Hoseok pulls himself to his feet and starts packing up, citing his evening class across campus. Waving him on, Jimin stretches a few more minutes while replying to the few dozen texts Tae had sent him during the day about new drama he had decided to start watching and was now nine episodes into.

He takes his time back to his apartment off campus and when he opens the front door, he’s immediately assaulted with the view of Taehyung in the living room, raptly watching his show while absently tossing goldfish crackers into his mouth. Watching him for a moment, Jimin doesn’t even bother to sigh as over half the fish miss his mouth entirely to land somewhere on-- or in-- their couch.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung greets him distractedly.

“Hey, Taetae. Show still good?” Jimin ruffles his best friend’s hair on his way to his bedroom.

Leaning into the touch, Tae hums in affirmative. “Have you gotten your crush’s number yet? Or even found out his name?”

Jimin huffs at the directness. He might’ve come home after his first shift of the semester only to regale Taehyung with the story of how a student at the dining hall had walked up to the end of the check-out line that morning-- radiating an intimidating aura, especially in his all black get-up-- before he’d watched the guy help the person behind him in line collect all their loose change that had fallen out of their purse and all over the floor.

It was like night and day between the guy’s abashed smile as he waved off the thanks as he picked up pennies and when he’d first walked in, expression neutral and looking like he’d flay anyone alive who dared to talk to him.

Sighing as he thinks about what had happened this latest morning, Jimin pouts. “No but I paid for his breakfast and he was all adorable and flustered about it so we’ll count today as a win.”

“You know,” Taehyung starts, eyes not leaving the television screen where it looks like someone is either about to get murdered or railed to within an inch of their life, “The way you describe him, he seems like a bit of a lone wolf type. Reserved but with a warm, gooey center. Maybe you just need to, like, befriend him. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to make the first move.”

“It’s not as easy as you think to make a move, Tae,” Jimin gripes. “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me.”

Sighing like the weight of the world’s on his shoulders, Taehyung finally looks up at Jimin. “That’s why I’m telling you to become his friend, dummy. You like him, he doesn’t sound completely off-put by you, it’s time to progress to the next level. Friendship. Maybe once you two know each other a little more, he’ll get more comfortable around you and then bam! You’re married with three dogs and a pink picket fence.”

“White picket fence, Taetae. Not pink.”

Taehyung just waves that away. “Pink is more homey. Anyway. We're two months into the semester and you still don't even know his name. Time to face your crush and actually do something about it before you end up living in the apartment over my garage and crashing into my main house every evening bemoaning how your life turned out like this.”

“You don’t have a garage. Or a house. You don’t even have a complete set of towels.”

“Then it will be all the more impressive when I move into McMansion and graciously allow you to live with me rent-free.”

Jimin snorts, feeling lighter with his best friend’s antics. At least his love life isn’t as dire as it could be, he guesses.

Still, he doesn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of knowing he’s given him food for thought so Jimin just ruffles his friend’s hair again and hauls himself and his bookbag to his bedroom without another word.

Taehyung is immediately engrossed back into his show, muttering something about the betrayal of the sister-in-law.

Closing the door behind him, Jimin empties his bookbag. He finishes the readings for a couple of classes tomorrow and resolutely does not think about how he could woo-- befriend-- the extremely cute student he only sees three minutes a week.

There’s only a couple of hours of daylight left when Jimin surfaces, stretching his arms over his head and straightening from his desk, highlighter still in hand.

Tossing the highlighter onto his desk and shutting his anatomy textbook firmly closed, he stands and grumbles to himself for a few minutes before he figures that he should probably go for a run before it gets dark.

He really wasn’t exaggerating earlier with Hoseok. He’s only halfway through his first semester of junior year and it seems like everything’s been kicked up a notch, including his dance group. Hoseok is the new leader since it’s his senior year with Jimin as a sort of second-in-command and as the two of them had planned out the upcoming year over the summer, they’d agreed that they wanted to try something new and challenge themselves.

They’ve certainly succeeded, Jimin thinks wryly as he walks to the front door and laces up his running shoes. The two of them were having a blast experimenting with different styles and genres and putting together choreography with it all. Thankfully, the other dozen people in the group seemed to be enjoying the new creative lead from Hoseok’s predecessor and while it’s challenging, it’s also fun and stress-relieving in a way Jimin craves.

That doesn’t mean the newest song they’re putting together isn’t a lot to handle, though. Jimin can barely make it to the second verse of the song before he feels winded and Hoseok is noticeably pushing himself by the bridge.

Warming up with a light jog as he gets out of the congested student apartments and starts towards the park trail on the edge of campus, Jimin plans the rest of his evening. He still has a paper to write for tomorrow’s gen literature class and he has a case study for his political science class due in the morning along with a discussion post.

Could be worse, Jimin thinks with a huff as he kicks it up a notch to a steady pace along the trail blacktop. While running isn’t Jimin’s favorite way to pass the time, he knows that he needs to do something to increase his endurance and it’s almost relaxing-- enjoying the fresh autumn air all alone with his thoughts.

One of his favorite things about this university is that it’s bordered by a nature reservation on one side. Although he doesn’t take advantage of it as often as he’d like, it’s nice to get away from a bustling campus and busy college town. There are only a few other runners out this late and he’s in a good mood as he lets whatever stress had built up over the day flow out of him.

Jimin decides to veer off onto a gravel path when the trail splits. It’s a little overgrown but as he climbs up an incline, settling into each stride and definitely feeling the strain in his thighs, he decides this might just be his favorite stretch so far.

It’s like there’s no one else but him and nature and while Jimin knows he’s a city boy through and through, there’s a calmness in being so isolated that puts him at ease.

He’s almost to the top of the hill and his breath is definitely labored as he watches the ground right in front of him, steering clear of any roots or particularly jagged rocks when something falls into his periphery.

Flicking his eyes up, Jimin comes crashing to a stop, almost falling on his face as he slips over a rough patch of gravel.

Suddenly, his breathing sounds cacophonous in the quiet of the woods, under the piercing stare of a pitch black wolf.

Jimin stares at the creature. The creature stares back calmly although it’s preternaturally still.

He’d always thought wolves were just a little bit bigger than dogs and now he feels like an idiot because the wolf standing alert a dozen yards from him is definitely bigger than a dog.

Jimin swallows harshly and thinks that it would almost come up to his chest if they were side by side.

So very slowly, Jimin tugs his headphones out and lets them fall around his neck. He doesn’t take the attention away from the wolf to turn his music off and it’s another tinny noise that buzzes around him like a pile of bees.

They’re still staring at each other.

Jimin doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He doesn’t want to run away because what if the wolf attacks? There’s no question the wolf is terrifying, large and intimidating and so clearly a predator, completely at ease in the woods. At the same time, he feels like a dolt just standing here and waiting to be eaten.

There’s a dignified elegance to the wolf as he watches Jimin with gold eyes that seem to soak up the starting sunset. If Jimin didn’t know better, he’d almost think the wolf had been caught off guard at first before he’d stilled at seeing Jimin on the trail.

Calling himself a dumbass even as he opens his mouth, Jimin tries to put on his best soothing voice. “I’m not here to hurt you and I hope you’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, so Jimin continues, “I’m just out for a run and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t eat me. My roommate, Taehyungie, would be very displeased if there was no one to brainstorm his podcast episodes with.”

The wolf huffs out a breath, tilts his head to regard Jimin with a faint hint of-- is that amusement? Deciding that the terror trickling down his spine and through his toes is probably driving him insane, Jimin holds up his arms in an appeasing gesture as he takes a single step back.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says in a voice higher than his usual register. “I’m just going to leave you to do whatever wolf activities you were up to before I interrupted-- catching butterflies? Rolling around in the grass?-- and we’ll forget this ever happened. I’m so sorry I disturbed you and I’ll just be on my way.”

Jimin waits for a long beat or two to make sure the wolf won’t suddenly lunge for him but to his surprise, the black wolf doesn’t move a muscle besides the slow sway of its tail.

In the heart pounding moments between Jimin’s little speech and him turning around to back down the hill, he studies the wolf with an intensity that surprises him. He catalogs the gold eyes that seem to know more than they should and the thick obsidian fur that he has an inexplicable urge to bury his hands in to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

For a moment, Jimin is too mesmerized to be scared and it’s only when the wolf abruptly turns his head to the left, towards the deepest part of the woods, that Jimin startles and realizes that he needs to go and he needs to go now.

He doesn’t know why but he dips a little in a bow before muttering, “Thanks for not making me puppy chow,” and then he turns around and carefully leaves, heart thundering with the fear the the wolf could decide to attack at any moment, lunging for him without him knowing.

He can’t quite believe it but Jimin makes it back to the main path without incident. He bends over at the waist, lightheaded, and feels like he could almost collapse in relief at not having been torn to shreds.

Jimin picks up the pace as soon as it feels like he’s not going to keel over. All of a sudden the nature reservation that had felt relaxing in its isolation digs creepy tendrils of apprehension into him.

When he finally crosses over from the park into campus, he breathes a huge sigh of relief. He tells himself that he’ll just go to the rec from now on and climb on a treadmill if he wants to work on his cardio.

He tells himself that he won’t go back to the park or follow unbeaten paths again, not when the October breeze sends such a shiver down his spine.

He feels something watching him from the moment he turns his back from the wolf all the way to the edge of campus and tells himself he’s overreacting even as he can’t stop himself from searching the edge of the trail for gold eyes or a trailing shadow.

He doesn’t see anything amiss and he definitely doesn’t feel disappointed as he makes it back to his apartment without catching sight of the wolf again.

Stumbling through the door, Jimin toes off his shoes and heads directly to the bathroom, not even noticing Taehyung in the living room working on a painting by the last light of the day.

Jimin sums up his evening with an effusive thank God I wasn’t mauled to death and resolves to forget anything ever happened.

#my writing #become your flower #jikook #jikook fic #my first jikook fic how exciting!!#i hope i did them justice #this was so fun to write and had been in my head for weeks!!#jikook au

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