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marlinspirkhall · 3 years

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Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 04: Revelation

Cw: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter Word Count: 3,316 words

[Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Jim spends the next few days hauled up in the server room trying to find something he’s overlooked, but, with the exception of Klingon legend, the records of this planet are practically nonexistent. There are a few scattered reports here and there- things which, under ordinary circumstances, would sound too outlandish to entertain, if he hadn’t experienced them himself.

‘Crash-landing results in bloodbath […] sole survivor, Lewis McAllister [...]’

Jim doesn’t understand it. If the entire crew died on impact, and they experienced the time loop, they should have regenerated. Plus, if his ship was still repairable after a crash-landing, it’s unlikely they actually crashed at all. A controlled landing, perhaps. Jim slumps down, and slams the keyboard in frustration. He’s missing something obvious, some big piece of the puzzle, but he has no idea what.

“Back to plan A,” he murmurs to himself.

“I must admit, James-”

Jim dodges the blood Leland spits at him, and twists the blade. “You didn’t think I had it in me; I know,” he grits. Once again, Leland’s eyes widen in surprise. He claws at the front of Jim’s jacket, but, by now, he’s heard every possible iteration of his last words. There’s nothing Leland could offer which would help them escape this planet. He’s beginning to wonder if there’s a way out at all.

“Jim.”

Footsteps, through the undergrowth. Jim wipes his blade on the grass, and Spock watches him in silence.

“I have something to show you,” he says, finally.

Jim looks up. So far, the cleanest method he’s found to kill Leland is to catch him unawares, usually while he’s shouting “Rise And Shine, Campers!”, but it’s always messier with a knife. They depleted their supply of ammunition for most ranged weapons a while ago. Despite this, the “Kill Leland Again And Again” plan is beginning to lose its novelty and take on a perverse domesticity.

“Okay,” Jim says, slipping the blade into his pocket. They drag the corpse away from the tree with ease. This, after everything else, is becoming a daily chore. They usually dump the bodies in the woods on the West Side of the cabin, but, today, Spock slings Leland over his shoulders, and heads towards the East.

“What’s going on?” Jim asks cheerfully, swinging his arms beside him as he bounces after Spock.

Spock only glances at him, his face stony.

He stops skipping.

The trek takes an eternity, though Jim knows it’s probably distorted by his own anxious anticipation. He sticks close to Spock, despite the swaying body. He wonders how long it’s been, truly. A year, at least. Maybe two. Three? He wonders just how fucked up his life must have been before that this can almost feel normal.

He watches the swinging hand.

It does feel normal.

Jim trips on something, and the force of it sends it flying a short distance. It crashes into a pink boulder, and falls to the ground with a clatter. Jim frowns, and moves over to inspect it. It’s plastiform, dark grey, and warped around the edges. The casing is crinkled, collapsing in on itself, but it looks as if it was once rectangular. A bent metal strip is peeling off the side, and there’s something engraved on it.

A smooth, triangular spaceship.

The Starfleet insignia.

Jim straightens up, a tight feeling in his stomach. He’s positive that neither he nor Spock have ever ventured this far into this part of the forest before, but he can’t think of a time when Leland would have had the chance to get this far- not when he still had a power pack. Unless...

A short distance up ahead, Spock has stopped moving, and watches him.

“Is this what you were going to show me?” Jim asks. If there’s evidence that other people were stranded here before them, then-

“Part of it.” Spock shifts Leland to his other shoulder, and begins moving through the forest again. Jim frowns, and follows.

As they continue walking, the floor of the forest becomes increasingly littered with spent power packs, some in better shape than others. Some are waterlogged and bloated, worn down by years’ worth of rain. All the same size. All of the same make and model.

Eventually, the trees become more sparse, as they approach the mouth of a clearing. Spock stops walking, and sets Leland down by the entrance. After a moment, he straightens up again, watching Jim almost… Coldly.

His stomach does a backflip.

“What’s going on?” He whispers.

“I think you know,” Spock says.

“I don’t-”

Something pale catches Jim’s eye in the undergrowth. He starts. It’s curved, and flesh coloured. Or, rather, it was once flesh coloured. Now it’s a pale, washed out grey.

A single, rounded ear.

His breath stutters. He glances to Leland’s body, but, somehow, the shapes don’t seem to match up. He raises a hand to his own ear, and gently traces the outer shell. Somehow, it matches. “What…?” He breathes. He recalls a flash of something. A memory of a memory.

Like a computer rebooted too many times.

He takes a halting step forwards, and Spock doesn’t follow.

The floor of the clearing is embedded with tiny scraps of fabric. Dark, black denim. Flannel. A red, criss-cross pattern.

Jim presses forwards, ignoring the similarities to his own outfit. There are articles of clothing scattered here and there- a shoelace, a button hidden under a tree branch- even the occasional body-part. A hand. A finger.

What was it Leland had said, the first time they met?

“A phaser blast at this range… That’s not something you come back from.”

The things he find become more and more complete- a whole shoe, an entire plaid jacket. Two jackets, laid out next to each other; one more discoloured than the first.

He stumbles forwards, his breathing heavy. There’s buzzing up ahead. Shapes. A swarm. Heirin doesn’t have flies, not exactly. These are more like tiny, carnivorous humming birds, but their function is the same.

Like vultures, he thinks.

The clearing is littered with empty power packs, and a few- unusual- weapons. The handle of a knife blade. A few, broken copies of the penknife he has in his pocket. The splintered remains of a chair.

He averts his eyes from the dark pink creatures, and tries not to look at what they’re feeding on.

The sound becomes unbearable.

He stops moving.

The clearing is filled with corpses. He doesn’t get any nearer; this is close enough. Blonde hair. Startled expressions. Various states of decay. And, these are just the bodies which survived. He wonders how many were disintegrated, or lost in space, or-

A hand touches his shoulder. He jumps back from it with a strangled sound. Spock is stands behind him, his face carefully neutral.

Ask him how I knew, Leland had said.

Jim balls his hands into fists, shuddering. “You tried to kill me,” he says; voice small.

Spock surveys the valley. “Look around you, James. We did more than ‘try.’”

Jim staggers backwards and leans against a tree as he wills down the nausea. All the while, Spock watches him without betraying emotion, every bit the flawlessly logical Section-31 agent- and Vulcan- he was trained to be.

“Why?” Jim whispers. He digs his nails into the tree, green bark flaking off in chunks.

“It was always the plan to kill you.”

Jim swallows, dryly. “That first night…” He shivers, “That’s why you told me to run.”

“Yes.” A bird cries in the distance; a soulful lament. Spock inclines his head. “Were circumstances different, my advice would remain the same.”

“But; instead, I’m stuck with you,” Jim says. He balls his fists, and wills him, silently, to disagree.

Spock widens his stance, and folds his arms behind his back. “Yes.”

Jim’s breath catches in his throat. He gives a jerky nod. “So that’s what he meant,” he whispers. “That’s how Leland knew how to shut the outpost down; he watched me do it. Over and over again. Before-” he breathes. “Before he killed me.”

Spock gives him the slightest nod, and Jim shakes. “You never told me you’d gone through with it! You never told me that you had actually-” he swallows. “What made you change your mind?”

“You.”

Hope flares in his chest. “Why?” He croaks. “Because I kept coming back? Because I was- kind to you?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because, between you and Leland, you are the person most likely to discover a way out of here.”

It’s a punch to the gut. He trembles, reaches for his pocket, and stops.

He almost laughs.

“You know, I really thought Leland was wrong about you.” His voice cracks. “That you weren’t the unfeeling, cold-blooded killer he groomed you to be.” There’s a beat. “I guess I was wrong.”

If there’s a flash of defiance in Spock’s eyes, it vanishes quickly. They regard each other for three heartbeats, and then- though it’s late, far too late, to take his advice- he begins to run.

He continues until the rain begins, and he thinks back to that first day. His heart thuds. Not the first day. Just the first day he remembers. The signs were all there, he just never wanted to see them. He thinks of that first, solitary scrap of torn, charred plaid. Flannel, scattered indiscriminately throughout the clearing. The same shirt, over and over and over.

A drop of rain falls onto his exposed skin, and he continues running, even as he’s pelted by it. They hit as hard as hailstones, falling faster now that he’s out of the densest parts of the forest. He runs without direction, the night-time smothering everything, and trips on roots, a fallen branch. Something twisted, bent out of shape.

He runs until he can’t take it anymore, chest burning, and slumps against a tree.

There’s a crackle overhead, shapes arching through the branches. A flash of light, illuminating purple leaves. He tilts his head back, the water soaking his face and chin, and slides, helplessly, to the ground. His vision blurs, and he takes a shuddery breath, willing down nausea. He hugs his knees to his chest, and allows the tears to fall; thick and heavy enough to compete with the downpour. He’s heard poems claim that tears get lost in heavy rain, but their composers have clearly never cried in a storm before. He can easily distinguish between the cold, frozen pellets of rain which strike him, and his own tears, comparatively warm. The only spot of warmth in this whole forest.

The rain which strikes his face is frozen, unrelenting, each drop piercing, and his own tears are, by comparison, almost pleasantly warm. They slide down his face, unusually comforting, and their frequency begins to lessen. He hugs his knees, growing still, and gradually colder.

Thunder rumbles overhead, twice. What was that old method for finding out how close a storm was? One Mississippi, two-

That’s when the lightning hits him.

Spock runs through the forest, the footprints hard to trace now. There’s a strip of plaid snagged on a branch up ahead, and he rushes forwards, slipping on the wet soil, quickly becoming mud.

“Jim,” he croaks, stumbling once more.

“Stay away!” A voice warbles, high and shrill. Spock turns, and sees Jim cowering beneath a tree, shaking. The right side of his face is drenched in blood. He holds a hand over the place where his ear used to be, and gives a wet sob.

“Jim-”

“No.” Jim wields the penknife with a hand trembling too much to do any harm, but Spock doesn’t get any closer. He surveys the scene for a moment, his face set into a thin smile.

“You will not harm me.”

A shaky exhale. “What makes you so sure?”

The rain falls harder.

“That is your non-dominant hand,” he says, at last.

A gulp, which could be aborted laughter. “Do you think this is fucking funny?” He hisses.

“No.” Spock raises an eyebrow, and approaches, crouching beside him beneath the tree. It offers rudimentary shelter, and they’re already soaked through. Jim strikes at him clumsily, and Spock catches his wrist, twists, and disarms him with ease.

Spock settles against the tree beside him. Jim’s body heat radiates off him, and Spock resists the urge to lean into him. Jim hangs his head, weak from blood loss, and glowers up at him.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” He whispers.

“Because he can’t,” booms a voice behind them. Leland steps into view, and watches Spock with a predatory smile.

“It could be informative to see the long-term results of keeping him alive,” Spock argues, carefully dispassionate.

Leland clicks his tongue impatiently, and nods to his phaser. “Get on with it.”

Spock blinks, and Jim slumps against the tree, sniffling softly. Spock makes no attempt to grasp the phaser, and looks up at Leland blankly.

Leland snorts, and retrieves his own phaser. “I told you.” He turns to Jim, almost apologetically, and fires.

Spock flinches as Jim disintegrates next to him, and breathes unsteadily. There’s a distinct odor in the air, like ozone.

Leland winds the setting down. “Let’s be clear, Spock. If you let him escape again, I’ll kill you first.” He grins, nastily, and turns the phaser on him. “But then, you’d never remember your lesson.”

There’s a fizz, and the phaser charge hits him in the shoulder. Spock jolts. He grits his teeth as the burning encompasses his entire arm, spreading like ice. Leland crouches down, and places a hand under his chin.

“It goes higher without being lethal.”

He stares at him.

“It’s painful, though,” Leland continues. He laughs, and strikes him across the face. “Though, I suppose, you don’t feel pain, do you?”

Spock exhales, and watches his hand. “Leland-”

“Ah!” Leland places his fingers to his lips, and raises an eyebrow.

He swallows. “No,” he says. “I don’t feel pain.”

Leland pats his cheek, and stands. “Then sit still.” He levels the phaser at him again. Spock clutches his injured arm with one hand. He turns away slightly, and wet hair falls over his face., clinging to him. He makes no move to swipe it away.

“See, what you’ve got to understand, Spock, is that we’re not like you. Humans are impatient.”

“Humans are impatient,” Spock repeats, as Leland fires again. It catches Spock in the leg, and he squeezes his eyes shut, leaning against the tree.

“He wouldn’t wait for you.”

“He wouldn’t…” Spock breathes raggedly.

“Say it.”

He gasps desperately. “He wouldn’t wait for me.”

“He’d dispose of you in an instant.” Leland’s voice is firm. “You’re better off with me.”

Spock grits his teeth, and breathes through his nose. There is no pain, he thinks.

“Spock,” Leland says, his voice sing-song.

He looks up at him through half-closed eyes. “He wouldn’t wait for me,” he manages. His eyes widen as he realises he’s got the mantra wrong, and the phaser powers up again.

“I’m better off with-”

A burning warmth crashes over him, and he passes out from the pain.

Jim.

Jim groans, curiously warm, yet cold at the same time. He shivers, but he’s on fire.

“Sphh?” He manages. His tongue tastes like ash.

Jim, the voice says again, all around him. He opens his eyes, but everything is dark, fuzzy, too bright. A tree. Moonlight. Something dark, pressed against him. A coat. There’s a strange sort of pressure on his forehead. He turns his head, but it follows him.

“Hnn,” he mumbles.

Arms lift him into the air, and he shudders violently.

Be still. The pressure on his forehead increases slightly, and his eyes flutter closed.

When he next comes round, he feels noticeably warmer. He opens his eyes, just a fraction. He’s lying on his side, on a makeshift platform of pillows, and something flickers in front of him. He reaches an arm towards it. It’s pretty. He can almost touch it-

A hand joins his own, and gently guides it away.

“That is a fire,” Spock murmurs.

Jim stirs, and rolls onto his back. His clothes are hanging on the mantel above the fireplace, and he’s aware, distantly, that a blanket has been thrown over him. He grunts, and passes back out.

The next morning, he wakes in his clothes once again, yesterday’s clothes still drying on the mantelpiece. He wonders is the duplicate items will simply disappear when they escape Heirin.

Escape.

He sits bolt upright, as everything hits him with one, horrible jolt. The lightning. The memories. Spock.

Spock sits across from him, cross-legged, as if he fell asleep watching over him. Keeping sentinel. Jim realises he was meditating- or, at least, attempting to. He studies his face for a moment- so still, he could almost be sleeping. He should just leave. Get in the shuttle, and keep going. But, he knows where that would get him. Right back where he started; again and again and again.

Spock’s face twitches, and he stirs. He opens his eyes, with a low, drawn out hum. “James,” he rumbles, and looks sharply away. “If you will still permit me to call you that.”

Jim blinks, and then remembers- My friends call me Jim. Spoken a lifetime ago. Several lifetimes, apparently. “Right.” He exhales. “I guess we’ll find out.” He pushes the blanket off, and tries to keep his voice light. “Were you meditating?”

“Attempting to.” His face flickers. “How do you feel?”

“Alive,” he says, warily. “What… Happened?”

Spock inhales. “When you were struck by lightning, I initiated a meld, to save your life.”

“That’s why I could see your memories,” Jim breathes.

Spock shifts uncomfortably. “I was not aware I was projecting them. Without the ability to meditate, I have found my control to be… Lacking.”

Jim nods, and rises. “Then I’ll have to avoid getting hit again,” he says. “At least we’re on a planet where lightning always strikes the same place twice.” He walks over to the dining table and its three chairs, and thinks about the broken chair he’d found in the forest. “It’s almost funny,” he snorts, softly. “It’s like discovering that your date has been taking you to all the places their ex took them, only-” He turns. “Discovering that he once took you to a shooting range, and I was the target practise.”

Spock stands. “Leland is not my ‘ex’.”

“I-” Jim places a hand on the back of the chair. He can almost feel it splintering. “You were really going to let me waste my time going over every single experiment you’d already done?”

“On the contrary; your approach to the problem was different to Leland’s, and my own. It proved insightful, in some ways.”

“Sure. Let’s face it, if you’d learned anything from ‘observing’ me, you wouldn’t have showed me that clearing.”

Spock hesitates. “That was not the reason. I found it… unexpectedly difficult to inform you.”

Jim looks away, and takes a steadying breath. His hand clenches on the back of the chair. “You said...’’we’ did a lot more than try.’ But- I saw- in the meld…” His shoulders tense. “I just need to know-”

“If I ever tried to kill you?” Spock’s lip twitches. “No. But I was there, Jim. Every single time. Does that not make me complicit?”

The tension leaves his shoulders, and he lets out a long breath. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But- it doesn’t mean you’re responsible.”

Spock tilts his head, as if in contemplation. Then, his eyes widen.

“Leland,” he says. When Jim attempts to move, he places a hand on his arm. “Allow me,” he says, with a strange intensity. Then, he retrieves an axe from the wall, and marches out onto the Veranda.

Jim watches him leave, with a grim smile. “Right.” He whispers. “Leland.”

[Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

#tomorrow never comes #star trek fic #star trek aos #star trek discovery #spirk fic #spirk

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98prilla · 4 years

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To The Dead

AO3

TW for past abuse, emotional manipulation

...

He slipped into awareness slowly. He was warm, comfortable, he felt… safe. The ever present haze of dread and fear and exhaustion was gone. He could hear voices, speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words. He realized he was hearing them through a door, and managed to crack open his eyes.

A room. Not his. A bed. Also not his. The blanket was a soft baby blue color, fluffy and warm. The walls were a light cream, the ceiling painted with clouds that seemed to move slowly across it, and the whole space gave off an aura of soothing calm. He sat up, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders, wondering if he should get up, when the door opened.

He flinched at the noise, curling in on himself, tense as he heard footsteps across the floor, recoiling slightly at a touch of his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, feeling himself shaking. “I t-told you to stay a-away. I’m sorry I-“

“Shhh. It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s not! It’s not. I j-just want it to end, why can’t it just end? Why…” he trailed off, feeling Patton shift closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, which he let stay, leaning slightly into it.

“Because some part of you wants to keep going. Some part of you wants to believe in yourself. I’m so proud of you, kiddo. I know it was hard, to stop that darkness. But you did, and I’m so proud.”

“What was that? Th-that th-thing? It w-was me, w-wasn’t it? I’m J-just a m-monster.”

“No. Honey, no, you aren’t a monster. The people who made that darkness, who fed it, who nurtured it until you believed every word it said, they are the monsters. Not you. Everyone’s ok. Everyone’s alright. We just… we need to work on some things, so that doesn’t happen again.”

“what would have happened? If I h-had let it, what would it have done?” Patton hesitated, and Virgil looked up at him, dark eyes burning with something almost akin to pain. “please. I need to know. I… need to understand, I don’t know anything about this, b-being this, and I c-can’t...”

“Ok. Logan might be better at explaining this, but I’ll try. So, there are different types of spirits. We’re ghosts. We’re human souls that, for some reason or another, haven’t moved on. We’re sentient and, with effort, can influence the physical world. Remus is a poltergeist. He’s not human, never has been. He’s a result of wild energies all swirling together, a manifestation of the universe’s chaos come to life. He can influence things in the physical world more easily, and isn’t bound to this location. He can go wherever he likes. There are also ghosts that appear on a schedule, same routine every time they appear. A woman walking down the stairs, vanishing around a corner at the stroke of ten, that kind of thing. Those are memories, impressions made on a space by some kind of high impact event. They aren’t sentient or aware, it’s just like watching a home video, a snapshot of a different time. Then… then there are corrupted souls.” Virgil was uncurling slightly, looking at him curiously now, listening intently.

“Corrupted souls?”

“Darkness takes over. They lose who they are. All they know is that they’re hurt and angry and someone needs to pay for it. It doesn’t matter who. They can drain the energy of other ghosts, effectively erasing their existences, they grow uncontrollably, destroying everything in their paths, until they burn themselves out. Usually, it takes years, decades, even, for a spirit to become so lost, to give themselves over to that darkness completely. And usually only then when they don’t have any other spirits around to keep them company. It’s when they start going mad from being alone for so long. But you… we were seconds away from losing you to it, kiddo. That’s what has us scared. That you already had so much of that darkness instilled in you.” Virgil shuddered, pulling away, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself

“I was doing that, to you. T-to all of you. Wasn’t I? Draining you all. I almost… I could’ve…” panic climbed his throat, choking him once more, and he could barely hold himself together.

“But you didn’t. That’s what matters, kiddo. You didn’t let it. Coming back from that, stopping that, is incredibly hard, but you did. You did, and that’s all that matters.” Virgil shook his head, shoving back his hair.

“what if it happens again? What… what if I can’t stop it?” He whispered.

“that’s not gonna happen. But you have to let us in, Virgil. You have to let us help, and be there for you, ok? That’s all I want. Is to be able to be there for you.” Patton held his nonexistent breath, pleading, praying, begging for Virgil to say yes, to let him help, because otherwise…

Otherwise they would lose him. Sooner or later, they would lose him.

“please?” he asked again, quietly, watching as Virgil slowly nodded.

“ok.” Then Virgil folded against him with a soft wail, and Patton embraced him, rocking him softly until he cried himself out, falling back asleep.

…

He felt more… himself, when he woke up next. The panic and fear were gone, his chest loose and not tangled up in knots. He felt… almost relaxed. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt any kind of unstressed or untensed.

He realized part of that might be because he could feel someone massaging his scalp, a kind of gentle touch he hadn’t felt in years, the kind he could barely remember feeling at all. It made him want to fall back asleep, to stay here in this warm, soft, bliss.

“mmm… Patton?” He murmured sleepily, blinking his eyes open. Usually, this much touch would make him afraid, set him on edge, but it felt… safe, coming from Patton, who was curled around him like a mother cat with her kitten.

“Hey, kiddo. Feeling better?” Patton asked, not stopping his gentle scritching.

“yeah. I… I think so.” He mumbled, moving to sit up, pulling away from Patton a bit, pulling his knees to his chest, biting his lip.

“That’s good. I want to talk to you, about something. But I don’t want you to get upset, and run away again.” Virgil tensed, but didn’t move, shaking as he pushed back his hair. “Virgil. It’s nothing bad, nothing to do with you. It’s… you remember, what I said that made you run, when Janus found you?” He asked softly, Virgil wincing, curling a bit tighter.

“yeah.” He mumbled, not offering more, refusing to look up at Patton.

“Did you ever tell Him no?” That was not the question he was expecting, and he chewed on his lip. He didn’t know where Patton was taking this, just thinking about Him made him shake, but he somehow knew this was important.

“no. I never… I never could. He did so much for me. I had to, I… I owed him!” Patton hummed, nodding, not disagreeing.

“Okay. Did he ever tell you no?” He furrowed his brows, thinking.

“Well… yeah. I always asked for too much. I didn’t contribute, so I didn’t get a say, and that was… was fine, I guess.”

“Did he ever tell you yes?” Patton continued, forcing him to answer without any room for obfuscation.

“no.” He whispered.

“Okay. Did he let you go out with friends? Did he let you go out alone?”

“N-no. But that was to protect me. I’m always afraid, of getting jumped or something. He always wanted to know where I was, that I was safe.”

“Would he get mad, if he didn’t know?”

“yeah.”

“Did you know where he was, all of the time? Were you allowed to ask what he was doing, who he was with, who he was seeing, where he was spending time, anything at all?” Virgil hesitated again, clearly thinking, and Patton was hoping, praying this nonconfrontational approach would help Virgil start to understand.

“no.”

“Would he get mad, if you asked?” Virgil looked up at him, for the first time since the start of this, eyes confused and dark, as he nodded.

“so. Can I summarize? You were not allowed to refuse him anything. You were not allowed to anywhere without him. You were not allowed to see anyone without him. you were not allowed to have friends. You were not allowed to do things for yourself.” Virgil nodded again, foccused on Patton. “He was allowed to say no, said no to anything you asked for, for yourself. He was allowed to go out, and tell you nothing of where he’d been, or who he’d been with. He was allowed all the freedoms you were denied, and would get angry if you questioned him. Because that was asking why. And if you started asking why, you would see how unbalanced the scales were tipped. He would start to lose control. So he cut you off from friends, took away your hobbies, forced you to be completely dependent on him, until you believed his reasoning as to why, so you would stop asking that of yourself. That was manipulation. That was abuse.

Virgil, someone who loved you would never, not even jokingly, tell you to kill yourself. Not when they knew you were in a fragile enough mental state that you might actually do it. Someone who loved you wouldn’t have stopped you from doing the things you love. They would have enjoyed watching you do them, been happy because you were happy. Someone who loved you would have never said no without a reason. Would have some give and take, wouldn’t get furious to the point it scared you, for simply asking where they’d been that day. A person who loved you wouldn’t make you a prisoner of your own home, wouldn’t prey on your fears, wouldn’t take your freedom and self esteem away to make his own ego larger.

I know you might not believe me, at first. I know you might not believe me, ever, but just… just think about it, ok? Think about everything he demanded of you, then think of everything he ever denied you, and weigh them against each other. You’ll find the scales completely unbalanced. That is abuse. Manipulating you into hurting yourself? That is abuse. Okay?” He asked softly, surprised as Virgil barreled into him, easily accepting his hug, swaying him back and forth gently.

“ok.” Was the oh so quiet reply, too quiet, but Virgil hadn’t run, hadn’t left, was still there in his arms, shaking silently, and he rested his head atop Virgil’s, gently shushing him, rubbing his back, relief coursing through him. Virgil was thinking it over, at least, was willing to do that much, willing to listen, and hopefully, soon, he’d be willing to talk, as well. But it was a start. A very, very good start.

@fortheloveofjanus

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out-of-jams · 4 years

Note

For the drabble hobi as a vampire 🧛‍♂️ that has just woken from an 100 year sleep and has no knowledge of the modern world

I hope that you don’t mind me changing it from 100 years to 1000! Also, this turned out a little more crack-y than I intended haha.

Word count: 842

Warnings/Genre: Smaaaall mention of blood. Like almost nonexistent. Vampire!Hoseok. Human!Reader.

Jung Hoseok was going to commit murder.

When he had asked his butler to awaken him in a few years, he did not mean 1000! And who cared if the incompetent butler had been mysteriously murdered? That simply was not an excuse. Hell, the only reason Hoseok was even awake and conscious was because of the thirst itching at the back of his dry throat. And the ghost of a stomach rumble.

Hoseok had been alive for a very long time. Well, “alive” was not quite the correct choice of vernacular. He was turned around 1693, back when the biggest worry were so-called witches being burned at the stake. Humans had never been very smart.

Idots. All of them.

Because any witch worth their salt had high-tailed it the hell out of dodge and went into hiding the second that their own were being discovered.

Which was exactly why--

“Excuse me.” Someone’s pointy shoulder rammed itself deep into Hoseok’s gut. The crowd of people around him were the only reason why he did not rip their throat out and drain them dry for even thinking of touching his person.

Well that, and the fact that he was too busy trying to figure out how in the hell there was a giant screen plastered on the side of a building. A building that was taller than the human eye could see. And all of the scents and sounds that assualted his senses almost drove him over the edge. If it were not for Hoseok’s experience with human rabble, he would not have been able to control himself from slaughtering them all in a murderuous rage.

As another crop of steel (what Hoseok had learned were called “cars”) raced by with their obnoxious noise and burning miasma, he glared at a loud blow of a whistle. Which, thankfully, managed to scare off the cult of bizarrely dressed characters hovering in his peripheral from approaching him. Hoseok had already made a mistake in allowing one of those creatures to harrass him for money for even being in the same space as it.

New York had changed a lot since he had last set eyes on it.

Luckily, Hoseok had already drained the first lowly human he had seen completely dry the mere second that he had set foot outside his manor. Which was not as well kept as he would have liked, given the circumstances.

But that was a matter that he would need to take care of at another time.

Especially because another sack of warm flesh nearly ran him down. Or they would have if Hoseok’s body was not built to withstand thousands of pounds of pressure.

So he just watched, disinterested, as the woman who had dared to invade his space fell to the hard, dirty concrete beneath his shoes. Though her fall also failed to gain the attention of any other mundane in the area. Because New Yorkers nowadays, as Hoseok had quickly learned, simply did not have even an ounce of sympathy to spare towards anyone else.

By now, he would have looked away from the pathetic scene happening below. But his eyes were completely riveted on the way that you scrambled up from the unforgiving ground and stared up at him with a softness that he had not seen for a long time. Even dispite the fact that Hoseok had not listed a mere finger to assist you.

“You okay?” The question flowed from your lips as you brushed off your impractical looking pants. Your eyebrows were scruntched in what Hoseok could smell was pain, based on the scent of blood wafting from you like a wordless invitation.

Hoseok tongued his teeth and looked down at you through his lashes, brown hair flopping into his eyes. “What?”

Now you appeared worried as you slowly repeated yourself. “Are you okay? You’ve been standing here for a while now, looking confused. You a tourist or something? You lost?”

Hoseok did not respond at first.

He did not quite know how to. It had been a very long time since he had actually conversed with a human in the manner that he currently was. 1000 years ago, humans were only kept around covens for food or entertainment. Which brought Hoseok to his next problem. He needed to find his coven. Wherever the hell they had wandered off to.

“I am looking for someone.” He tilted his head to the side and watched as your expression morphed into something he could not quite understand. Hoseok was not well-versed in human ways.

“Well, do you know where you’re supposed to find them?” Your eyes were big, bright. And so full of life. “Maybe I could help.”

As Hoseok glanced around at the busy square around him, something inside of him urged him to use you. Perhaps you could assist him and then he would drain you dry.

That was right. He looked back down at you. You would be easy to kill. To sate his thirst.

Yes, perhaps you could be of assistance afterall.

#bts #bts fic #bts drabble #hoseok #hoseok drabble #vampire hoseok #Hoseok fic

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weirdochick56 · 5 years

Text

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans AU Chapter Five

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: TeacherxStudent relationship. Slightly Underage reader x adult teacher Disclaimers: I don’t own CE or you. I don’t condone any relationship of this kind. This is for fictional and entertainment purposes only. Word Count: 2, 984 words Read Chapter Four Here!!

***

(Gif’s not mine!!)

Chris’s POV

The next day, I sit before a blank piece of paper, pencil in hand, and stare down at it, my mind in sharp contrast to its nonexistent contents.

I take a deep breath, reveling in the feeling of the oxygen filling up my lungs and trying to clear my mind to no avail.

She was everywhere...

I was filled with racing thoughts chasing eachother around and around in the darkest depths of my twisted brain and creating a knotted whirlwind I was terrified of so much as attempting to unwind.

Most thoughts consisted of reprimandations to myself.

What was I fucking thinking?

God, I was such an idiot just...kissing her like that.

But thinking about how wrong that kiss was made me think about the kiss itself and that-fuck..it just makes me feel warm in places I refused to admit even to myself.

...Which only frustrated me further.

Angrily, I begin applying pressure to the paper, browns knitted tightly and knuckles white before fingers that gripped the pencil far too tight.

The sun was setting behind the window I’d situated myself behind and my house was awfully quiet. Almost too quiet.

I usually liked it, the silence. It was the main reason I’d moved into this house, but now it just made my stomach curl up in uneasiness because it meant I’d be left alone with my thoughts and for once that didn’t seem like such a good idea.

With a huff, I try to lead my emotions away from her even though it takes up almost all of my energy.

Loosening my grip on the pencil and exhaling out heavily, my focus shifting on sketching a picturesque scene.

Drawing had always been a good way to relax for me and over the years I’d gotten pretty good at it.

Shit, I still need to grade those papers. Not that I could the way I was right now; a mess.

Grateful for a distraction, my hand begins working on harsh horizontal lines, meaning to mimic the brisk and gently-swaying pine trees I distinctly remembered as a kid. Like the ones back home. Still, static but all the same alive with wildlife and secrets yet veiled within the dark depths of the forest it created.

Just like her eyes, I couldn’t help but muse mentally. And from there, the rest of the thoughts just...roll in.

So big and doe and naive, but somehow tortured and scared, hiding the true darkness behind all that beautiful conflict.

When she had that panic attack- a small pang courses through my chest and I huff, getting lost in my thoughts again. This time a feeling of deep concern taking over me instead.

She looked small and frail. Terrified even. Those big eyes, framed by long thick, seductive lashes suddenly became aflame. Like I’d imagined in my head many times but not that. At all.

Because instead of her gaze being ignited by pure want and lust, all I found staring back at me in those beautiful irises was torture, pain, and fear. Raw, unwavering, all-consuming fear. The kind you can’t outrun. The kind you try your damn hardest to escape with everything you have- everything you goddam are, even knowing that it’d eventually catch up to you. It always did.

Unbeknownst to me, my hand quickly shifts pressure and the harsh horizontal lines I'd been sketching suddenly take shape into something else.

I dive deeper into my thoughts, letting my brain relish in the memory of my lips on her.

I don’t know, seeing her like that...it flipped a switch in me. I couldn’t bear it, watching her sink deeper and deeper into inky black water, drowning in it, so I tugged her out and hugged her as close to my chest as I could. It seemed like all I could do.

I’d never let anything hurt her. The mere thought made my chest squeeze painfully.

Her tiny, shaking form fit with my own body like it was made to be there. Like her skin was made to mold into my own skin like our souls were made to join into one.

That was the kind of connection I felt merely holding her to me.

It was wrong.

And when I did what I couldn’t hold back from doing any more, I knew that it was wrong. Deep down, I guess. But those thoughts went flying out the window as soon as her lips landed on me.

Because in that moment, none of it mattered. Not if it was wrong, not if we ran the risk of getting seen. Nothing except the feeling of her warmth radiating onto me and her scent, sweet and subtle and so fucking tempting, wafting to my nose mattered. Nothing except her perfect lips, impossibly soft and welcoming and perfect on my own wandered my mind and soul.

Her chest pressed against mine, warm and soft, calling to me... her arms wrapped around me like she felt it too. Like we had a secret understanding.

I wanted her so fucking bad.

God, I still do.

Seeing her in my car, the light of the setting sun flittering in through the slightly-cracked window, outlining her figure with the orange-pastel pink tinge in the sky making her prominent in a way I’d never seen before. It made my breath catch in my throat.

Her hair flowed like waves in the ocean, her natural vanilla-tinged scent making its way over to me inevitably...

I suck in a sharp, slightly repressing breath, focusing on that image naturally, my hand moving vigorously across the paper, creating long drawn-out soft curves. The shapes, soft and deliberate, fill out the paper and I’m looking at them but I’m not really seeing them.

My head is instead filled with those soft, pink beautiful lips curled up into that shy, sorta coy smile I didn’t even know I appreciated and loved until now.

Those long lashes settled onto bunched-up cheeks glowing with a pink hue because of that pretty blush.

That cute nose scrunched up, small wrinkles appearing on the bridge made me want to smile too.

She was so fucking beautiful that it baffled me how she didn’t see it. Everyone -especially me- did, after all.

My pencil strokes soften and begin coming together in shorter, combined zigzags, filling in white spots lightly, making other spaces shine and darkening in others to create texture and depth.

Subconsciously, I smile to myself, unable to avoid feeling giddy. Like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush.

Fuck, I was whipped.

And fuck was it wrong. So fucking wrong.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My smile falls and I snap out of it, bursting my own bubble.

Fuck. I kissed a student. And not just any student. But one who’d confided something deeply personal in me and was hurting.

Somehow that makes me ache more.

The thought that she might think I was taking advantage of the situation, of her, concerns me more than the fact that she's my student.

And that wasn’t okay at all. Feeling like this for her. Wanting her like this...

I wanted to chalk it all up to the heightened emotions coursing through us at the moment it occurred. I wanted to blame it at both our vulnerabilities because when I hugged her, I too was becoming emotionally open.

But that wasn’t why I did it and it killed me that I could no longer deny it to the person it mattered most to- myself.

I knew I did it because it’d been brewing within me for a while.

I’d suspected it deep down, the growing emotions within me causing a mental turmoil ww1 would be jealous of enough of a tell.

I’d admired her beauty from afar and kept trying to push the feelings down. Attempting to ignore the way my eyes always seemed to flicker to her when I knew she wasn’t looking, admiring the cute frown on her face when she focused too hard, lip tugged between her teeth, eyes fiery with determination. Or the smile that’d inevitably grow on my own face when she’d grow irritated with an assignment and huffed hair away from her face only to have it land back again and repeat the adorable process or how her eyes would light up when she grew passionate about a topic or how the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

I knew I was attracted to her, but I denied it to myself constantly until now.

Because it was the right thing to do, ethically and morally.

From the moment she stepped foot into my classroom and our eyes met. Gosh- I swear the first time I lost myself in those glimmering eyes, nothing was in my brain. It went blank in a way that I hadn’t even had the concept of until then, my heart jamming its way onto my throat.

I could see her look shocked for a mere moment, a breath seemingly lodged in her throat too before she’d blushed and looked away timidly, forcing me to snap out of my own trance.

I’d never felt like that for any of my students, that was just disgusting.

But she made things stir up in me without even trying...it was scary, to say the least. I mean, if that was her effect on me when she wasn’t even trying...what could it be when she was? Scary but exciting, in an I don’t know where this is going but I trust you to not lead me astray kind of way.

And in that car, when she looked up at me after I comforted her through that panic attack, from beneath wet lashes and slightly parted lips, warm breath blowing into my mouth, tempting me to scratch the itch that’d been irritatingly persistent, like I was her fucking hero. Her everything. Like I was the Goddamn center of her universe...

God, she was fucking beautiful. Torturously and sinfully tempting in a way that wasn’t at all intentional and for some reason only made her more irresistible.

She was off-limits. Prohibited.

Wrong. So fucking wrong.

It was like she was the forbidden fruit put on earth just for me.

Ripe and sweet and dripping in everything I wanted- no. In everything I needed. Ached for. That’s should’ve been enough to get me stop. To gain self-restraint.

And yet, that only made her more irresistible. I was driving myself insane. Stuck between giving into my emotions and convincing myself it wasn’t worth the risk. That she wasn’t worth the risk.

And every day I was losing more and more will. The forbidden fruit just kept getting more and more tempting and the more I tried to stop imagining how sweet its juice would taste on my tongue, the more I wanted to bite into it.

I knew beforehand that kissing her would be catastrophic, that it’d only end in disaster. But then again, Adam and Even did so too, right?

God had warned them, just as he’d warned me.

That never stopped her soft, warm mouth from being anything short of alluring in all ways imaginable, the sinful prohibition of them included.

So just like Adam and Eve, I took a bite of the forbidden fruit. I kissed Y/n and now I knew the fear and searing satisfaction that comes with a decision like that.

Because even though I could make up all the excuses I wanted to make myself feel less guilty about what I’d done, I knew it was deliberate and prompted forward by oppressed want eating away at every single coherent thought within me.

And that aggravated me endlessly. Because shit, it was still wrong. Nothing would ever change that.

Fucking shit. I grit my teeth in frustration, pressing the tip of the pencil harder onto the paper than explicitly necessary and the point of the pencil quickly snaps with a loud crr sound

I growl softly, finally looking down at the paper and not even attempting to hold back the gasp that escaped me at what stared back at me.

A very detailed sketch of Y/n looked back at me. It was almost uncanny how accurate it was.

From her flowy soft hair to her smile and those eyes...

My breath catches.

Her eyes...it was like she was sitting here with me right now. I’d captured the tortured beauty in them perfectly and it only made me feel more like shit.

Briskly, I slam the sketchbook closed and close my eyes, running my fingers through my hair frustratedly and then through my face.

“Fuck!” I can’t help but exclaim.

I’d captured her better than a fucking picture from memory.

I blow out a big breath, cheeks warm with utter panic.

I was so screwed.

Your POV

“What happened? I tried calling a few times and you didn’t answer me. Get home alright?” Margo sounded concerned and I felt a bit guilty about making her wait that long to answer and worrying her.

But then I remember that kiss and it goes away almost as soon as it came. I could never feel guilty about letting that happen. I know I should. I should feel guilty. And I do...to some degree.

I felt guilty about how it happened, the circumstances, but not it itself and I sure as hell didn’t feel guilty with who it happened.

I hadn’t been kissed by too many boys, but none made me feel what Mr. Evans did. Not even close.

I shiver just thinking about it.

I never even imagined being kissed like that. What I had imagined kissing him would be like was nothing compared to the actual thing.

I blush.

My lips still tingled and the skin where his touch grazed prickled underneath my skin and grew hot immediately.

Gosh, I had scrubbed myself so hard in the shower to try and get rid of his scent but he was still there. Oh so present and I wasn’t entirely sure anymore if I even minded. Because it was evidence that what had happened was real.

All I had to do was shut my eyes and there he’d be again, kissing me.

I could still feel his stubble tickling my skin when he kissed me deeply and it made my whole body tremble.

To say I was in cloud nine would be an understatement. I juggled with the idea that it’d all been a fraction of my imagination and I was just going crazy.

In any case, I wouldn’t mind going crazy like this...

I bite my lip, holding back a giddy smile. I wanted to scream with pure joy but couldn’t for obvious reasons.

“Y/n?” Margo’s voice cuts straight through my daydreaming and I blush.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay, thanks for asking,” I rush out, afraid that she’d hear the slight tremble in my voice.

She seems to notice my slight stumble and hums thoughtfully.

“Did everything go okay with Mr. Hottie?” she inquires teasingly.

I don’t expect the question to come and end up choking on my own saliva, the kiss popping up in my head unbidden in even more vivid quality.

Margo laughs. “You okay?”

I’m so happy she can’t see me right now.

Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat.

“Fine,” I say curtly.

She squeals into my ear and I wince.

“Something happened.” It isn’t a question and I can practically see her knowing smirk.

I panic slightly. “N-nothing happened. We just talked.”

She sighs. “Aww, I was hoping y’all would fuck on his desk at least!”

My eyes widen and I can’t help but gasp as the dirty image pops up in my head unbidden.

Me sprawled across his desk with him kneeling in between- holy shit!

My whole body grows warm and I have to press my thighs together tightly, attempting -and failing- to fight back the intense throbbing.

I eventually fight through it, trying to keep my voice even. “W-well we didn’t, so boohoo. We talked and then I walked home.”

I didn’t like lying- especially to Margo- but something told me that kiss wasn’t a tell-all thing.

Before she can respond, I try to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Uh! In any case, what makes you assume he’d fuck me?” I force a shaky chuckle, cringing at the question.

She snorts through the phone.

“Contrary to your lack of eyesight, sweetheart, I actually have eyes and trust me, he’d fuck you.”

I can’t help but burst out laughing at her manner of saying it. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world and I was simply naive. Yeah right. As if someone like him would be interested in someone like me.

That got me thinking. He had kissed me.

Disregarding how wrong it was, he’d been the first one to do it. He was the one that grabbed me and kissed me.

And goddamn did that man know how to kiss. His hands were light but skillful enough to wave me withering beneath his heated touch. His passion was wild yet tamed enough to tend to my needs first and his lips soft and unpredictable but knowing. Of me. He knew just where to apply pressure and where not to.

It was like my mind was clouded with want and all inhibitions were thrown out the window in that very instant because nothing but him mattered.

And that was dangerous. The attraction I had to him was so great that it made me forget who I was and who he was.

I wondered if he felt the same, especially with how thick the air was in that car. He must’ve felt it too.

I shiver remembering the atmosphere in the car. The air was so filled with...ache and desperation and passion it’d almost felt unbreathable. And maybe it was my eyes playing a trick on me, but for a second I could’ve sworn his eyes were filled with the same thing growing in my chest, inflating with every second I was close to him. Want.

He looked like he wanted me. Maybe more than I did him, but I highly doubted it.

The mere thought had my heart speeding up and pounding loudly in my ears with pure emotion.

Maybe he wanted me too.

Hope blossoms in me like a flower, full of light and adoration.

But no. I shake my head, shutting the thought down instantly.

He could never want me. it just wasn’t a logical explanation for what had happened.

That kiss was probably a product of the high-running emotions at that moment. I mean, the man had helped me through a panic attack. He couldn’t have possibly meant anything he said about how pretty I looked when I blushed or my chapstick.

He was trying to comfort you because he was a good guy. A decent human being.

I immediately deflate even though I should be glad.

A teacher shouldn’t desire their student. Mr. Evans shouldn’t want me and neither should I want him.

And he didn’t. He didn’t mean that kiss because he was trying to be nice. After all, he’d seemingly panic seeing me like that. He probably didn’t know what to do. It was a mistake.

Of course. That’s all it was. A mistake, I reassure myself.

Calm down Y/n, it’s no big deal to him so it shouldn’t be one to you. He’s probably kissed a bunch of girls and you were just hurting and he-he wanted to make you feel better.

My chest squeezes painfully at the thought because the best kiss I’ve ever had was just a mistake.

A mistake.

After talking to Margo for a little while, I hang up and flop back onto my bed with a heavy sigh.

I try to think of something else, like that Calc test or that History ten-page essay coming up, but I don’t succeed with my mind eventually drifting away and onto those blue eyes.

They were so beautiful and today they’d been burning their focus into me. Just me. Goosebumps rise on my skin as I relive the emotion it’d given me. I wanted to bathe in his attention.

Mr. Evans was better than drugs. He gave me a high that I often found hard coming down from. Just the feeling of his eyes on me and I’d already feel like I was being set aflame.

If it was hard to not be tempted before, no matter how much of a mistake this had been for him, imagine now...

But that also prompted the question:

How the hell was I going to face him tomorrow at school?

Read Chapter Six Here!

K, so here’s chapter five!

It’s short because the next one’s gonna be longer and more interesting.... *wink, wink*

SHIT’S GOING DOWN Y’ALL!!

A Special thanks to:

My wonderful forevers:

@jessikared97

@sherlockedtash88

@mogaruke

@lilypalmer1987

And my “Mr. Evans” humans!

@bombsandsparkles

@meowsekai

@godohammers

@sp2900

@multifandom-foreverx

@missbosstown

@supernaturalyloki

@jungkooksbowlingskills

@spettrocoli

@woodworthti666

@tshollandlove

@weirdvishy

@buckysrcse

@doritoevansxwinterschildren

@superwholockwannabe

@emmiejames

@rissamonique97

@zofty15

@sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack

@sydneynix8305

@badkatthings

@pinnedandneedled

@taliarosej00

@lowkey-love-loki

@tomoyaevaans

#Chris Evans #chris evans au #chris evans x reader

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ironspiidey · 4 years

Text

Superhero’s get Bullies Too Part 10

Chapter 1

Chapter 10: Harley Stark & Throat Punching a Bully

Read on AO3

Thats right guys finally a new update!!!!!!

friendly reminder a hoe for likes and comments. They also fuel me :)

“So you and May eh?” Peter says with a smirk as he slides into the backseat of the car.

Happy glances in the rearview mirror. “Me and your Aunt are just friends Peter.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Liar. I know my aunt well enough to know you two are more than just friends Happy.”

Happy tossed Peter his phone before turning out of the apartment parking lot and in the direction of the tower.

“Oh thanks!” Peter unlocks his phone and scrolls through his texts, seeing a bunch from his very concerned boyfriend, which made him smile. “Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“You’re not, not ignoring me either.” Peter looked up from his phone to give the driver a pointed look in the mirror.

Happy shook his head. “Your aunt and I are friends Peter, we may have hung out once or twice.”

“Three times.” Peter says without looking up from his phone, quickly sending a message in his group chat with MJ, Gwen & Ned about how Happy’s picked him up and brought him his phone.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve hung out with her 3 different times. First time was when she went looking for me at the Tower but I was at a decathlon thing, you took her for coffee but only told Mr. Stark you were taking her home.”

“How?”

“How do I know? Well we did some major catching up during pee and snack breaks today when we were watching Greys.”

Happy nods in understanding “Ah okay, She does become easier to talk to when that TV show is involved.”

“Did you two ‘Netflix and Chill’ in my living room?”

The older man remains quite.

“Oh gross.”

Happy chuckles as he puts the partition up, clearly having enough of the redheads 21 questions.

Peter shakes his head and looks down at his phone. He starts deleting old conversations to clean up his inbox and his thumb hovers over Harley’s messages. He opens the conversation and sighs.

H: Hey Pete, not sure when youll see this but yeah. I know your upset with Stark for looking in your phone but he cares about you a lot more then he lets on which I know is hard to believe

H: my point is trust is huge with him and he’s low key freaking out that he lost you even though im saying he hasn’t bc your too stubborn to give up on his crazy ass. Just maybe cut him some slack when you get here. He means well.

H: and Im kinda getting used to having you around so yeah.

Peter bites his lip debating on digging out the messages from Flash that he archived a few months ago or deleting them. Knowing that it will send Tony even more over the edge then the superhero already is but at the same time remembering how upset he sounded when he found the one conversation. Peter sighs as he responds to Harley’s messages.

P: Don’t worry Harley, it’s going to take more than one fight to get rid of me. I know he cares and tell him to stop being a dumbass and that he hasn’t lost me.

Peter sighs again, realizing if things are truly going to work he needs to be as truthful as possible with the older man

P: and tell him I have something to show him when I get there.

H: So happys picked you up? How long till your home also will do parker

Peter knocks on the partition.

“Yes Peter?” Happy responds once he brings the glass screen down half way

“How far are we away from the Tower?” Peter asks without looking up, shooting his boyfriend a quick text about how he isn’t mad, that he still loves him and everything will be alright.

“About 20 minutes, traffic seems slow today.”

“Thanks Happy.”

Peter goes back to his conversation with Harley and tells him just that, switching to Tony’s chat as his phone vibrates.

T: my nephew ratted me out didn’t he?

P: Or I could be telepathic

T: without even being near me?

P: I always said we were meant to be :P

P: But seriously Tones, you know I love you. I’m not going to run away that easily.

T: I love you Underoos

P: Happy says I should be home in 20 minutes, should I order takeout?

The younger man’s phone buzzes, showing Tony’s caller ID

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Actually no.” Tony starts “I have something planned here and no I’m not telling you what it is.”

‘Don’t worry Parker, you’re going to love it!!!’ Peter hears Harley holler in the background

“Another dinner? You really are sucking up.” Peter says with a grin

“What? Cant a man provide a nice dinner for the ones he love.”

“You’re definitely up to something Tony.”

“Always. Harley here go put this on the table. Okay Petey I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Okay Tones, love you.”

“Ditto.”

Peter smiles to himself after disconnecting the call. Happy smirked as he glanced in the rearview mirror. Peter noticed and raised an eyebrow “What?”

“Not a thing.”

"So your Uncle let you come to school Keener?"

Harley gave him a look as he entered the building "What the fuck do you want?"

After the weekend the blonde just had. Finding out just how much of a piece of shit Flash was, Harley’s patience was nonexistent with the other teen.

"I want in."

"In on what?"

"Parker."

Harley's eyes widen "What the fuck do you mean? It’s too fucking early to deal with your dumbass"

"Don't play stupid with me. I know you’re fucking him, and maybe even your uncle is too. I want a fucking piece with or without your help."

"Is that a fucking threat?"

"It's a promise."

"You leave Parker the fuck alone or I'll fucking end you." the blonde teen growled.

"Ah ah ah, what would your uncle say if you got into another fight?"

Harley stepped up into Flash's personal space "He'd fucking congratulate me for putting an end to your disgusting, useless life."

Flash pushed him back. "Gonna kill me are you?"

"C'mon Harley, Flash isn’t worth it. Think about Peter." Harley’s friend, Tommy finally spoke up. Harley didn’t exactly tell Tommy everything but Tommy knew Flash was on some serious thin ice based on some texts between Flash and Parker. Harley had a bad temper on a good day but after whatever happened this past weekend, well Tommy was pretty sure his friend was just a ticking bomb ready to explode.

"Yeah Harley," Flash mocked. “Who would save him if you're stuck in jail being somebodies little bitch."

Harley turned to his friend and laughed manically "Ha, this guy."

"Oh no." Tommy sighed as Harley turned back to the bully and punched him in the throat. So much for a quiet Monday.

Flash fell back grasping at his throat before lunging at the blonde. "You’re going to regret that."

Harley quickly dodged him, sticking his foot out so the brute fell. He flipped him over and grabbed a hold of his collar. "You are going to regret ever fucking with Parker.” Harley spat and he hauled his arm back and started punching him repeatedly

Tommy sighed and leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for teachers or Flash's boys. They were by the side entrance of the school that nobody uses except the kids smoking but you couldn’t be too careful. Plus the last thing they needed was Parker coming around and seeing this.

After a few punches were thrown Harley let off. He wiped the blood on his knuckles off on Flash’s shirt then got up.

"Know your fucking place Thompson. Ready to go?"

Tommy turned and nodded "Yeah let’s bounce before Parker shows up."

"This isn't fucking over!" Flash sputtered as moved to get up.

Harley turned and spit in front of the other teen. "If you know what's good for you, it'll be over."

"How long do you think we've got till he blabs to someone?"

Harley shrugs "Hopefully till lunch."

As they make their way to the front of the school Tommy’s phone starts buzzing. "What the fuck?"

Harley looked at him puzzled. “What?"

The other boy tilted his screen so that he could see "See for yourself."

"Why is Parker calling you?”

"The better question is how he got my number. Harley!"

The blonde put his hands up “Wasn't me dude. Well answer it!"

Tommy gave him a funny look before answering. "Yo."

"Hey Tommy? It’s Peter. Peter Parker. "

"Hi Parker."

"Hi! Is Harley with you?"

"Yep, wanna talk to him?" Harley held his hand out

"Um no actually I wanted to talk to you. You don't have me on speaker do you?"

Tommy shook his head at his friend, shrugging when Harley gave him a confused look. "Nope."

"Okay great. Well I just wanted to say it’s my fault he didn’t get to hang out with you this weekend."

"Your fault?" Tommy pushed Harley away when he tried to listen in.

"Yeah uh well you see." Peter coughed, clearly nervous "Harley got angry at Flash because of me and To- Mr. Stark was not impressed and basically put him on house arrest."

"House arrest?” Tommy glanced at his friend, mouthing 'He's apologizing'

"Yeah. His uncle didn't trust him."

"I don’t blame him there, Harley's a heathen." he snickered, wincing when Harley punched him in the arm.

Peter giggled "I'm not sure what he told you so I just wanted to clear things up in case he said something stupid like he had a date or something."

"That would be stupid?"

"Well duh, he's your best friend and he shouldn't lie to you. Especially not for me. Could you do me a favor?"

"Depends on what it is?"

"Nothing bad! I just want you to keep an eye on Harley and maybe uh make sure he stays away from Flash. I'm worried he's going to do something stupid and then To- Mr. Stark would lose it and it'll be a giant mess. So if you could do that for me that be great."

Tommy shook his head. "Yeah Parker I can do that but you owe me one alright?"

"I expect nothing less. See ya Tommy"

"What was that about?” Harley questioned him as the call ended.

“Parker is too smart for his own good. He just called me to ask me to keep an eye on you and keep you away from Flash."

"To keep an eye on me?"

"Yup."

"He's something else. Bet my uncle had something to do with it." Harley pulled out his phone as they entered the building, texting his uncle

H: did you tell Peter to call Tommy?

"Yeah that’s the other thing!"

Harley looked up from his phone “Other thing?”

“Yeah he kept starting to call your uncle by his first name than correcting himself.”

“Oh.” Harley tried to remain normal but was freaking out inside. If Tommy was to ask any questions about his uncle and Parker, well Harley wasn’t sure how he’d be able to lie to his best friend without him becoming suspicious.

“Yeah like I know he’s his intern and you two are kinda friends and hang out at your place together so I’m sure he doesn’t call him Mr. Stark. There’s no reason to cover it up.”

Harley shrugged “Yeah well maybe he’s trying to hide that we hang out?”

“Why would he call me to say he’s the reason you couldn’t hang this weekend then?”

“He did what? I thought you said he called to make sure you kept an eye on me?”

“Well he did. But first he wanted to make sure I knew that you didn’t chill this weekend because of something to do with Flash bugging him and you and Stark got into it.”

“Why would he bring that up?”

Tommy shrugged. “Somethin about worrying you’d make up some shit story about a date to cover it up. I’m your best friend and you shouldn’t lie to me especially for Parker.”

Harley gave him an unimpressed look.

“What? His words not mine.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious! Then he asked about keeping an eye on you. So see what I mean when it makes no sense?”

Harley was about to respond when his phone buzzed

Stark: No. Did you do something that would require him to talk to Tommy?

H: Not even. So you’re telling me you had nothing to do with him getting a hold of Tommys number to call him?

Stark: You are becoming paranoid nephew .

H: That don’t answer my question uncle.

Stark: *doesn’t. Stark: Get to class I’ll see you after school.

Harley rolled his eyes as he put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry what?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

Harley sighed. “Yes buttercup. Peter thinks you shouldn’t lie to me, wants you to keep an eye on me and hiding our friendship makes no sense considering he called you about that shit.”

“Someone is moody as fuck today.”

“Sorry man it’s just my uncle.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow “That or Flash hit a nerve.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well I mean dude you have a temper but the last time I seen you beat the shit outta somebody like that over a conversation was when my girlfriend was given a hard time. So unless someone you know is dating Parker, you’re catching feelings.”

Harley scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Fuck no. He’s just my Uncle’s intern man.”

“Since when has your uncle needed you to protect his interns?” Tommy challenged

“Since he started having a nerd the size of a beanpole for an intern.”

Tommy gave him a look as they entered first class.

“Seriously. You’ve seen how skinny he is. If Flash wanted to do some damage it wouldn’t be that hard!”

Tommy nods. Seeing Ned and Liz walk into class, he nudges Harley with his foot. Hoping he’ll get the hint to shut it.

Harley gave him a confused look before seeing Peter’s friends walk in.

“Hey Harley!” Ned stops in front of his desk.

“What’s up Leeds?”

“Was Peter with you this morning?”

“No. Didn’t he have some nerd thing with you at 8?”

Ned nods “Yeah but he didn’t show.”

Harley felt his heart drop into his throat. Peter never missed early periods. The whole point of them was so that a day or two a week he could spend the afternoon at SI. “Did you hear from him?”

Tommy glanced at Harley while trying to act indifferent. Last thing they needed was Ned snooping around if Harley did have a thing for the other teen.

Ned shook his head. “He texted me around half 7 saying he’d be there but he didn’t show.”

Harley looked confused. “Well I’m sure everything’s fine. Maybe something came up with SI.”

“I don’t think so. He’s only supposed to be an active intern outside of school hours.”

Harley shrugs “You’re just a worry wart Leeds.”

Liz nodded “See me and MJ told you everything was probably fine. Go sit down mother hen.” She pushed him in the direction of where they usually sat.

“Do us all a favor though and text your uncle. I really don’t feel like listening to Ned worry all damn day.” She whispered as she passed both boys.

After they were out of ear shot Tommy leaned forward. “Well we heard from him like 20 minutes ago so everything should be fine right?”

“Clearly Flash didn’t have anything to do with whatever’s going on.”

“You should get ahold of Stark. Leeds will probably try calling his aunt if we don’t find out what’s up.”

Harley shuddered at the thought. His uncle was scary but Peter’s aunt? She was a damn nightmare when it came to her nephew. “Shit your right. I got no interest in dealing with the wrath that is May Parker.”

Harley quickly takes his phone out and sends his uncle another text.

H: Hey is Peter with you?

He frowns when immediately his phone rings showing Tony’s contact. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath. “He’s fucking calling me.”

Tommy looked at him in alarm “Who Peter?”

“No. Stark!” He whispered harshly as he got up quickly heading outside.

“Hello?” Harley answered once he was outside of the room.

“Why are you asking about Peter?”

“Because-”

Tony cut him off “Why aren’t you in your English class?”

“Well I was in fucking English before Peter’s friends started asking me where the fuck he was!”

“Language nephew. Why are they asking you where he is?”

“Apparently I’ve become his fucking keeper or something. All I know is he didn’t show for that thing for early period and Ned is being a mother hen.”

“Clearly I need to wash your mouth out with soap. Peter didn’t show to Decathlon practice? Hmm.”

Harley could hear some rustling in the background which concerned him mildly. If he uncle didn’t know he was there how the hell was anyone else going to? “Uncle?”

“One second.”

The rustling continued for a beat before Tony spoke.

“Friday, Can you pinpoint Peter’s location?” Tony spoke before the line went silent for roughly 30 seconds.

“Thanks babygirl. Okay so everything is perfectly fine. I think he plans to reach out to his friends. He’ll be there soon.”

“Well what even happened?” Harley questioned. Then the second warning bell rang.

“Get to class.”

“But-” Harley was interrupted by a dial tone. He sighed as he pocketed his phone. Peter was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

#starker #starker fic #my fic #my work #superheros get bullied too #New Chapter #A03 #flash is a dick #tony stark x peter parker #peter is 18+#end game what end game #ironspiidey writes

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years

Text

I seem to have lost the ask where someone requested an Umbrella Academy AU, but anyway here goes.

They’re different from what Jake was expecting, and yet in many ways they’re just the same. Marco’s still tight-lipped and wild-eyed, a few new tattoos and several new track marks not changing his swagger or his smile. Cassie’s the only one who thought to wear black, but then she’s always preferred clothing that’s easy to match. Jake realizes after a second that he’s waiting still for someone else, and yet that’s it. That’s all that’s left of them these days. Rachel’s dead. Five is... gone, probably for good. Tobias was probably never going to show. There’s only three of them, where once there were six. They’re orphans, now, or maybe they always were.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Tobias?” Cassie asks, as they sit and stare at the urn of their father’s ashes. “Just to make sure we’re all here?” Imploring, she looks at Mom.

Grace shifts slightly, servos whirring. “Your father’s will didn’t specifically mention Tobias.”

Marco sighs loudly. “Of course not. Did anyone even call him, let him know that the old bastard kicked it?” He turns his head, looking at apparent thin air. “Yeah, okay.” He turns back to Jake and Cassie. “Rachel’s with me, that we should wait. See if he shows.”

Jake shrugs. Their whole lives, Tobias seemed kind of... aloof. Distant. Stuck halfway out of their world, cast into the shadows. And then Five disappeared, and Rachel died, and it was like his last links to this family had been severed. Might as well run off. Might as well get rich off a tell-all that spilled their most personal selves across the page: Cassie’s desperation for love and connection, Marco’s endless self-loathing chatter, Jake’s single-minded devotion, Rachel’s petty tyranny, Five’s wandering between times and selves and states of existence.

“Alternately, we could just have Big Jake chuck Dad in the ground before fucking back off to space,” Marco suggests. “After all, Number One’s the only one the old coot ever really liked —”

“Marco.” Cassie’s voice is quiet but severe. “He’s been dead two days. A little respect wouldn’t be the worst thing, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, like being dead is an accomplishment.” Marco’s head snaps around. “Well ex-cuuuuse me. We’ll just have to get you a medal then.”

Jake feels his mouth tighten. Marco claims to talk to Rachel. Too bad for all of them that Marco’s always been so damn good at bullshitting, because now there’s really no saying what the truth is.

Jake hopes— He wants— He wants what’ll make Rachel happy, whatever that might look like now.

Cassie smiles. “Thanks, Rachel. Let’s wait for Tobias.”

Jake’s about to agree when a fucking portal opens in the middle of the backyard and spits a thirteen-year-old version of Number Five onto the lawn.

Jake perches gingerly on the edge of Number Five’s bed; the frame groans but holds. Watching Five teleport around the room, eating and talking and packing all at once, dressed like that, looking like he does... It’s a discomfiting echo of an earlier time. Before Cassie ran away. Before Rachel’s career blew up, and then her trailer did as well. Before Tobias became so quiet, and Marco got so loud.

Jake clears his throat. “Five...”

Five swallows a wad of marshmallow and peanut butter. “Ax. At the Commission they called me Ax, and I know how you feel about titles and codenames.”

Weird name. Violent. “Ax, then,” Jake says. “When you say that the world’s ending in six days...”

Ax clips a sickle to his belt. “Six of your days, yes.” With no further explanation, he disappears with a faint whoosh of air.

Cassie knows who it is from the unsteady rattle of the knock, even before she opens the door a crack. Marco’s in a bad way today, pale and sweating with the darting gaze that tells her he’s seeing people that the rest of them can’t perceive. “Hi,” she says softly, and then, “One sec.”

She shuts the door, hurrying through the one-room apartment to shove everything not bolted down — combat knives and scalpels, syringes and knick-knacks — into the lockbox under her bed. Marco’s her brother and she’ll take him in no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she’ll tolerate her stuff getting stolen. He might be (might be) clean now, but it never lasts.

Marco has to know what she’s doing, but he doesn’t comment when she lets him in. Instead he smiles at her, soft and wavering, and says “How’s fighting the good fight these days?”

Coming from him, the question is just a little bit sarcastic, just a little bit mean. Cassie’s not a real cop, not a real anything. Even vet tech school wouldn’t have her, given her nonexistent formal education, so it’s just as well that she doesn’t mind cleaning the humane shelter’s cages and exercising its dogs in exchange for the apartment upstairs and enough cash to keep her alive.

“Detective Patch told me just the other day that she appreciates my help, thank you for asking,” Cassie says.

Marco raises his eyebrows, smirking. “So you two…?”

“Still broken up, and we’re both happier that way.” Eager to change the subject, Cassie shifts away to sit on the bed. “How’s…?” They don’t talk about Rachel. It discomfits them all, especially Rachel. “Any luck with Dad?” she says instead.

Marco purses his lips. “So far so good.” Meaning no word. “If I ever do hear from him, I’ll be sure to tell him that at least his Numbers Two and One are doing him proud.”

That one was definitely sarcastic, definitely mean. Cassie stands to walk across the room rather than answering. She opens the mini-fridge next to the stairs, setting aside a tray of frozen feeder mice to find a can of soda that she brings back to Marco.

“Have you ever considered that maybe using my powers isn’t about Dad?” she says at last. “That maybe I do it for me, or for Patch, or, I don’t know, for the people I can help by actually using the things we learned?”

Marco turns the can over in his hands, frowning. Caffeine’s the strongest drug he’s going to get on these premises, which makes Cassie like to think that he comes for the company. “And Jake? Why’s he still keeping calm and carrying on, all the way to the moon and back?”

“Jake…” Cassie sits across from him. Jake never learned to put what he has to other uses, the way she learned to use her knives for good or Rachel turned her skillful voice toward a surprisingly lucrative film career. “Jake doesn’t know what else to do, I think sometimes. Not that any of us do, really.”

It’s not Marco’s fault. He is the way he is because of their dad. Because of his power. Because he was, like Jake, never given another way out. “Hush, you,” he says to someone that Cassie cannot hear. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Is that Rachel’s... um.” Jake stalls midsentence, apparently for lack of a word for the garment that Marco is currently wearing.

“Don’t worry, I got her permission to borrow it.” Marco flicks a handful of fringe at Jake. “She’d eviscerate me if I didn’t.”

“Anyway, the end of the world,” Ax says. “Whirrrrl-ed. Huh.” He’s two margaritas deep already and seems to have overestimated his own tolerance. He’s always been a hedonist, but Cassie is worried to see that this adult version has switched from pastries to hard liquor. “I bought us some time, three of your days, but we need to find Taylor Preston and kill her before she does...” He giggles. “Something bad. I couldn’t get any details about what, exactly.”

“What?” Marco looks at presumably-Rachel. “No, no one bothered to call Tobias. This is superhero crap, not the usual family drama.”

“So this Taylor person causes the end of the world,” Jake says. “But she’s innocent. We can’t kill her for something she didn’t do.”

“All of you will die if we don’t find her in time,” Ax says. “And the rest of the world too, including Taylor.”

“Rachel says she’s so very glad to hear the Commission got to you so thoroughly, Ax.” Marco traces his own lifeline between the lines of one tattoo, not bothering to look up at them.

“Let’s find Taylor, and try and talk to her.” Cassie glances around at them all. “It’s a start anyway.”

“Very well.” Ax pushes to his feet, staggering slightly. “And if it’s not too much trouble, I would like someone to call Tobias in. I...” For the first time, he looks just the tiniest bit vulnerable. “I would like to see him one more time, if this is to be the end.”

“You’re quiet,” Jake comments. It’s true; he’s barely heard a word out of Marco all afternoon. Normally there’s no shutting him up. Marco doesn’t answer, opting to continue to stare out the window and clutch at whichever pendant he’s wearing around his neck today.

Jake tries again. “Marco. You all right?”

Slowly Marco turns, hand clenched around his necklace. He takes a second to orient to Jake’s face. “You ever been to South Vietnam?” he asks at last.

“Um, no,” Jake says.

Marco smiles sadly. “Spaceboy’s been to two planets, four satellites, and zero Vietnams. Should’ve known.”

“I think there’s only the one,” Jake says. Presumably, this is all heading toward a point. “Is it... nice, there?”

“Course not. Full of dead Americans.” Marco turns back to the window. “Actually, that’s probably not true anymore. They tend to, uh, disperse? I guess. After a while. And there’s only one now. Any idea which one survived?”

Jake takes a breath, letting it out slowly. He loves Marco, he does, but there are also times when he needs Cassie around to translate the.. Séance-ness. “Which... Vietnam?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. Fucking everybody lost that war, huh?”

“I just wish you’d tell me what’s wrong,” Jake blurts.

“What’s wrong?” Marco spins, grinning suddenly. “What’s wrong is that the world’s ending in less than a week, little bro, and you haven’t even lived yet!” He releases the necklace to clap his hands, rubbing his palms together. “I mean, have you ever even had alcohol? Ever ever?”

“‘Little bro?’” Jake says, dodging the real question.

“I’m the second oldest now, time travel’s a bitch, what’s important is that you —” He pokes Jake in the chest. “Have got to get your jacket and your car keys, Goody Two Shoes, because we are hitting the bars now before the apocalypse catches us.”

“Can’t we just, like, raid Dad’s liquor cabinet?”

“Sadly, Ax got there first. And judging by what he did to the coffee, the peanut butter, and the corn syrup — straight from the bottle! — there’s going to be slim pickings left for you and me. Nope, we are headed to a bar, we’re going to get you, hmmm, six or seven Long Island Iced Teas should probably take the edge off even for a thicc bod like yours, and if you’re feeling some pot or some E later on tonight, then who am I to stop you.”

Well, Jake figures as he heads for his coat, at least Marco’s talking again. That’s something.

“Just like... old times... huh?” Marco pants, struggling for breath. Ax is not sure if Marco’s addressing him or Tobias or someone already dead. He’s too busy grabbing more pool balls off the table to reload where Cassie’s chucking them around the corner. The Commission sent several dozen of their best this time, and Ax would be honored if he wasn’t so terrified for his whole family.

“Ax, take Tobias and run for it!” Jake calls from the next room over. There’s an unpleasant wet tearing sound of him separating one or more limbs from someone’s torso by force. “You two are no good to us here!”

“Yep,” Tobias says, mouth pressed in a grim line. “Just like old times.”

Cassie swipes the back of one hand across her nose, grimacing when it comes away wet with blood. “You know... he didn’t mean...” She whips around, hurling an eight ball that impacts someone’s skull with a thunk.

“Where’s Marco?” Tobias says.

Ax looks around wildly, but he’s gone. Taken, or worse.

Bullets chew the wood above their heads, showering them with splinters. The assassins are gaining ground. Cassie and Ax aren’t enough to hold them back.

There are too many of them. There are simply too many. They can’t win this fight, not with only the five — or four — of them, not when Tobias can’t do much of anything to help...

“Go, and I’ll hold them off!” Jake shouts, because of course he does. “Just get out of here, all of you, and I’ll —”

There’s a wall-rattling thud as he goes down. Ax pops out there, pops back immediately; there’s no way in hell he can lift Jake, not in this child’s body. Better to draw as much of the fire away from him as possible, and then... and then...

They’re pinned down. Underequipped. Outnumbered. Maybe they’re all going to end up like Rachel, and if Marco’s still alive out there somewhere then they’ll spend the rest of eternity yammering away at him from the beyond.

Which is when the Manor’s intercom crackles to life.

“I heard a rumor,” says a strangely doubled voice that is both Marco’s and not, “that you all stopped fighting and instead talked about your feelings like actual goddamn adults.”

Things get a little fuzzy after that, but the next thing Ax knows he’s sitting in a circle on the floor with the rest of his siblings. All of them. Rachel’s sitting there, translucent and flickering and weirdly synchronized with Marco’s movements, but he can see her, he can hear her, and...

“...I think what I really wanted, deep down, was the chance just to be a decent person,” Jake’s saying, tears in his eyes. “Not a hero. Not an explorer. Just a guy who could get through the day and do the right thing without all this goddamn responsibility.”

All of the Commission assassins — who have formed a circle of their own, a little away from the Hargreeveses — break into murmurs of agreement.

“Ax?” Rachel says.

She heard a rumor that he’d talk about his feelings, which is why Ax feels an enormous rush of relief to let it out. “I always wanted to live up to your expectations,” he tells Jake. He turns to Rachel. “And I wanted to be closer to you.” To Marco. “And I always thought it was a load of crap that Dad put so much pressure on you, but I can see now that I was too caught up in my own rebellion to support yours.” To Cassie. “You were right about Mom.”

Last he turns to Tobias. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he says. “You mean more to me than I know how to express, and what you have, who you are... That’s more than any superpower will ever be.”

Tobias swallows hard. He nods once, apparently not trusting his own voice.

“My turn,” Rachel says. “Because I have some feelings about what it’s been like watching you all beat yourselves and each other up for all of these years. You’re all so stupid. You’re self-centered and stubborn and... and I love you pack of losers so much.” She sighs, settling halfway into the carpet.

“There’s a comet.”

They all turn to look at Tobias, who quails a little under the sudden attention. Rachel reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. Ax rubs their knees together.

“There’s a comet,” Tobias says, gathering strength. “It’s going to hit the Earth tomorrow. The whole planet will be knocked off axis and all life will be annihilated in a matter of hours.”

Jake frowns. “But we know about this. The government space program attached a bomb to a rover...”

“And I disabled it.”

They all gape at Tobias.

“How?” Rachel says.

“I, uh.” Tobias holds up a hand. “I can’t really control it that well, but...” He snaps his fingers.

Rain falls steadily. They’re inside. It’s a sunny day. But Ax’s hair is getting wet, his skin is cold with the slickness of it, and there are even clouds overhead.

Jake scrambles to his feet, mouth open in shock.

“Yeah.” Tobias shrugs. The rain disappears. “I can change reality sometimes. And I just figured it was time, y’know? Like humans have been around long enough, and we’re at risk of breaking out of this planet. Better to contain the virus before it spreads.”

Ax chills. It’s close, closer than he likes, to everything he argued in favor of killing Taylor.

The silence echoes. It thunders.

“Being dead is overrated.” Rachel’s voice is ethereal, ephemeral, eternal. “Might as well live.” And then she puts her arms around Tobias and pulls him close.

“Who knows.” Ax takes one of Tobias’s hands in both of his. “Humans might pleasantly surprise you, for once.”

Tobias folds forward in their grip. The first spasm that goes through him is all it takes; the sobs follow faster and faster after that.

It takes a moment of focus. A moment of intent. The opposite of anger; love. It takes Rachel growling at the others to give him some space, Marco singing under his breath, Ax mumbling equations and Cassie holding Jake back from micromanaging them all.

A light blinks on. An ordinance is armed.

The Earth keeps spinning, and circling, and growing as scheduled.

They go to Griddy’s Doughnuts, afterward. It’s back, like nothing ever happened. None of them are quite sure what just happened back there, but they’re hungry and they’re confused and they’re all exhausted beyond all reason. They get some looks, between Jake’s reality-distorting size and Cassie’s intermittent nosebleed and Marco’s flak jacket overtop a muumuu and Ax’s school uniform and Tobias’s white irises and the fact that Rachel only exists to the five of them. But they get coffee and doughnuts too, because apparently they’re not too weird for the waitstaff to tolerate.

“So... did we just save the world?” Tobias asks softly.

Ax tilts his head back, chugging the last few ounces of his third vanilla latte. “It would appear so, yes. I had not fully calculated the odds of our success beyond the second or third decimal place, but the approximate percent —”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel says.

Cassie leans against the counter next to Jake, looking down the line of her siblings arrayed on the spin-top chrome stools. “So, what now?” she asks.

Before Jake can answer, a woman taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am?” She looks between him and Cassie. “I know it’s really not my place, but...” She leans around Jake and Cassie to direct a pointed stare at Ax. “Should you really be letting your son have that much coffee?”

“Our what?” Jake turns to follow the direction of her gaze. “Oh, our son!” he says loudly. “As in, the child that we gave birth to. After being pregnant. Because that’s how normal thirteen-year-olds come into existence. And Ax is perfectly normal, and he’s our son. Who is thirteen. Obviously.”

Anyone in the doughnut shop who wasn’t already staring at them is definitely doing so now. Cassie attempts a charming smile.

The busybody sniffs, apparently uncharmed. “As I was saying, he’s very young to be drinking so much coffee, don’t you think?”

“Coffee... has energy,” Cassie offers. “And he’s a growing boy. And growing requires energy. So caffeine is good.”

The woman continues to look between her and Jake, mouth halfway open, eyebrows drawn tight together. Jake and Cassie continue to smile politely back at her.

Finally, she turns around and walks away.

“You two fuckin nailed that one,” Rachel drawls. “I don’t think she suspected a thing.” She’s snuggled up against Tobias. Marco is lost somewhere in the cuddle puddle too.

Cassie laughs, which she seems to do every time Rachel speaks where they can all hear. They need it. They all do. And the rest of the world can go screw itself, because this, right here, all of them... This is enough.

[Whoever requested this AU let me know, and also sorry for having lost the original ask.]

#animorphs #animorphs au #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fusion #umbrella academy au #long post #animorphs ficlet #au

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musicprincess655 · 4 years

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Atsushi blinks his eyes open, wincing at the crick in his neck. He uncurls from the ball he had to sleep in to fit on the chair. It’s better than the floor, but only marginally.

They all agreed yesterday that he would stay with the Akutagawa siblings. Even with the murderous intent growing in Akutagawa’s eyes, it was still preferable to going with Dazai and Chuuya. For one, they didn’t have the space, and for another, they fought like cats and dogs.

“Why do they live together if they hate each other so much?” Atsushi had asked Akutagawa. Akutagawa had just rolled his eyes at Atsushi.

“They’re married,” he snapped. Atsushi had decided he didn’t really want to know.

It isn’t like the Akutagawa siblings have all that much more room, though. They’d taken a larger room in the underground bunker – Atsushi thinks it might have been a bank vault, once – but at the cost of taking most of the storage. The room is covered in shelves holding all manner of strange items, everything from books to spare machinery bits to gear to things Atsushi can’t even identify.

Because the siblings, Dazai, and Chuuya are all part of a smuggling ring. Atsushi hasn’t quite gotten all the details, but the four of them steal just about anything they can get their hands on from No. 6, and that’s how they make their living.

It’s a life, or so Atsushi supposes.

The cluttered room means there’s not much room for furniture, though. There’s the skinny twin bed Gin uses, the couch that’s nearly as wide that Akutagawa sleeps on, and a pair of chairs that have seen better days. Between one of them and the floor, Atsushi took a chair.

He’s starting to think he might have been better off on the floor.

Both siblings are already up, already sipping at mugs of what Atsushi thinks might be coffee, based on the smell.

“Do I get a cup?” Atsushi asks, voice cracking with the sleep that hasn’t quite left his system yet.

“If you make it yourself,” Akutagawa says. “The kettle’s behind the last bookshelf. Don’t touch anything else.”

Atsushi glares at him, but doesn’t say anything. Despite Akutagawa’s desperate need for an attitude adjustment, he did save Atsushi’s life. And then gave him a place to stay. Even if it was only because Dazai told him he had to.

Dazai and Akutagawa’s relationship is something of a mystery. There’s strain, that’s for certain. Akutagawa doesn’t hate Dazai, though. If anything, Atsushi thinks Akutagawa is trying to win Dazai’s approval, and Dazai doesn’t seem to want much to do with that.

It doesn’t quite make sense to Atsushi. Akutagawa is so quick to hate Atsushi, for reasons Atsushi can’t fathom. He hasn’t done anything, after all, and when they were kids, Akutagawa seemed to tolerate him just fine.

There’s history between Dazai and Akutagawa, and Atsushi can’t help his curiosity.

There’s a lot Atsushi doesn’t know about Akutagawa, actually. He only just learned that Akutagawa has a sister. Why he was arrested, why he’s keeping an eye on No. 6, why he stays so close when the safest place for him would be far away from here…Atsushi doesn’t know the answers. And not knowing is not something that’s ever sat well with him.

“So how does all this work?” Atsushi asks. He mixes hot water with instant coffee and hopes it’ll taste okay. He sips it as he walks back up to join the siblings. It’s not the best, but it seems effective. “The smuggling business, I mean?”

“That’s not your concern.”

Akutagawa isn’t even paying Atsushi any attention. He’s flipping through a book. Gin almost looks like she’s meditating, staring blankly at the wall while she sips at her coffee. She’s pretty without her mask on, which is a comment that would probably get Atsushi murdered twice.

“I still want to know,” Atsushi insists.

“Just because Dazai let you stay here doesn’t mean we have to work together,” Akutagawa snaps. “And I’d really prefer not to.”

“So, what, you just want me to sit around here?” It comes out hotter than Atsushi intends. Akutagawa raises a single nonexistent eyebrow – had he shaved them off? Atsushi remembers him having eyebrows at fourteen.

“Quietly, if that’s possible,” Akutagawa says, returning to his book. Atsushi wants to throw it away from him. He squashes that urge down.

The door swings open. Atsushi tenses, but neither Akutagawa nor Gin reacts much.

“Hope everyone’s decent and caffeinated,” Dazai says, strolling in. “Atsushi-kun! How are you settling in?”

Atsushi throws Akutagawa one more baleful glare that doesn’t even make it past the book in front of his face.

“Fine, I guess,” Atsushi says.

“Good! I’m here to offer you a job.”

Dazai looks entirely too pleased with himself. Atsushi isn’t sure whether he’s trustworthy, but he is the one that insisted Atsushi stay with them, and it’s a damn sight better than chancing his luck with the West Block. He might just have the kind of face that’s hard to trust because he’s so good at controlling it.

Atsushi has no real reason to believe Dazai isn’t genuine.

“A job?” Atsushi asks. He was just asking for something to do. And he’s never been the kind of person that takes to sitting still all that well. Maybe a job is just the thing he needs. “With the smuggling business?”

“In a way,” Dazai says. “It takes all kinds to make this work.”

“You’re introducing him to her?” Akutagawa asks. Atsushi blinks at Akutagawa. Her? Who is she?

“I think they’ll get along marvelously,” Dazai says.

“She’ll eat him alive,” Akutagawa says, and he looks inordinately pleased. Atsushi’s just getting annoyed by the extensive round of the pronoun game.

“Come on, then, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai says. “I’ll introduce you to our spymaster.”

That’s more than enough to get Atsushi moving. If there’s anyone who can answer his questions, it’s a spymaster.

“What kind of person is she?” Atsushi asks as he and Dazai walk. He’s picturing an older woman, greying hair tied tightly in a bun away from her face, kimono perfect and spotless, a katana on her back.

“She’s fairly unique,” Dazai says. “Most people have a hard time getting to know her, but she can be perfectly sweet if she thinks you’re worth her time.”

Atsushi updates his mental picture to include more lines around a tight mouth, an expression beaten into a face that’s seen too much shit. She must be a woman to be feared if even Dazai speaks of her this way.

“And she’s your spymaster?”

“She’s good at collecting rumors, anyway,” Dazai says. “There’s not a word of gossip in all the West Block that doesn’t pass through her doors.”

They’re approaching what looks like a ruined hotel building. Atsushi winces. It looks haunted, or at least, it looks like it’s in danger of crashing down.

“She lives here?” Atsushi asks.

“She sure does,” Dazai agrees. “Welcome to the hotel.”

There are dogs everywhere. It’s the first thing Atsushi notices. Dogs of every shape, size, and color lay in the yard, or play with each other, barking in a way that is happy. Probably.

The second thing Atsushi notices is a young girl standing in the doorway, watching them with dead blue eyes.

“Kyouka-chan, meet Nakajima Atsushi-kun,” Dazai says to her. “Atsushi-kun, this is Izumi Kyouka, resident master of whispers.”

Well. At least Atsushi got the kimono right.

“Who is he?” Kyouka asks, no inflection in her voice. Despite the bright color of her eyes, they seem to suck in light. It’s almost like Kyouka doesn’t feel human emotion, more robot than person. And in a world like this, that’s entirely possible.

“I figured he could help you out,” Dazai says. He either doesn’t notice Kyouka’s coldness, or he doesn’t care.

“I don’t babysit,” Kyouka says.

“It’s not babysitting,” Dazai says at the same time Atsushi bursts out “I don’t need a babysitter!” Dazai pats Atsushi on the shoulder. “He and Akutagawa don’t get along. But he’d still like to make himself useful.”

Atsushi doesn’t point out that he could get along with Akutagawa just fine if Akutagawa would stop threatening to kill him. It’s been four times already, and they’ve been reunited for just a day.

“He can wash the dogs,” Kyouka says. “If he’s bad, he’s not welcome here.”

“Perfect,” Dazai says. “Atsushi-kun, do your best.”

With one more clap to Atsushi’s shoulder, Dazai turns and leaves. And Atsushi has to somehow make peace with this new person.

“Uh…” he tries to start. Kyouka turns.

“You wash the dogs,” she says. “They’re filthy. I can’t rent them out like this.”

“You rent them out?” Atsushi asks.

He rolls up his sleeves, following Kyouka to a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. It doesn’t seem to have running water, but Kyouka uses a water hose to fill it up. Atsushi doesn’t know how people out here can have that so far from the city, but there’s also a shower in the bunker where the Akutagawa siblings, Dazai and Chuuya live, so maybe human ingenuity is just something to be respected and feared in equal measures.

“For anything people need,” Kyouka confirms, voice still a flat monotone. “Some people want the protection. Some people just want the warmth. I don’t usually ask. They tell me anyway.”

Kyouka’s quiet, that Atsushi knows already. He can easily see her listening in, unnoticed by those around her. If there’s a perfect person to play spymaster, it’s someone as easy to overlook as Kyouka.

Atsushi gets to work scrubbing at the dog. He may have been a detective in No. 6, but that came with a fair degree of physical labor, and Atsushi is stronger than he looks. The dog tries to pull away, but Atsushi grabs it by the scruff of its neck, holding it still while he soaps it up.

“Do you really not get along with Akutagawa?” she asks. There’s a small amount of emotion in her voice this time.

“That’s not my fault,” Atsushi says. “He doesn’t want to get along with me.”

Atsushi doesn’t say it, but he also can’t help remembering how easily Akutagawa slit that police officer’s throat back in No. 6, and how he’d berated Gin for leaving the other alive. What kind of person felt such little remorse for taking a life?

“He doesn’t care about anyone who can’t benefit him,” Kyouka says. “They can die, for all he cares.”

That’s certainly true. Atsushi remembers when there were other emotions in his eyes, though, when he teased Atsushi for roaring like a tiger in a typhoon and let Atsushi bandage his wounds and hold his hand, let Atsushi watch over him and protect him.

What happened to the child Akutagawa used to be?

“I guess it’s a kill or be killed world out here,” Atsushi says. Kyouka nods.

“Only the strong survive,” she says. “That’s the way the world works.”

“Or the people who work together,” Atsushi counters. “I can’t believe that people have to kill to stay alive. If that was true, nobody would care about each other, nobody would love. We’d just all kill to be the strongest.”

He doesn’t mean to go on a rant at Kyouka, but instead of telling him to shut up, she considers him carefully.

“Do you know why I deal with dogs?” she asks. “Why I only barely work with people?”

“You like dogs?”

“Dogs don’t betray you,” Kyouka says. “They’ll protect you, and they never leave you behind. They’re better than people.”

“You might be right,” Atsushi agrees, using the hose to spray the dog down. “But I think everyone still has value. I think that’s something you get just by being a person. Maybe if we all knew that, the world would be a better place.”

“You’re a strange one, Nakajima Atsushi.” It’s strange, but she’s the first one to call him by his real name other than Dazai. When Atsushi meets her eye, there’s emotion there. She looks like a regular teenager that way, kimono and all. “I’ve killed thirty-five people. Does that make you hate me?”

“Did they deserve it?” Atsushi asks. He can’t condone murder, but at the same time, a girl as young as Kyouka has to have a reason. Right?

“I didn’t ask,” Kyouka says. “I was just doing as I was told.”

“Told? By who?”

“Someone who’s not welcome in my life anymore,” Kyouka says. Atsushi knows better than to ask. “Does that make you hate me?”

“Do you want to kill anyone?” Atsushi asks. Kyouka’s eyes blink open wider, as if she’s never been asked such a fundamental question. How is that possible? What kind of life has she led?

“No,” Kyouka says softly. “I don’t want to kill anyone again.”

“Then that’s what matters.”

“But I’m good at killing,” Kyouka protests. “It might be the only thing I’m good at.”

“You seem to be running a successful business here,” Atsushi says. “So that’s at least two things. And I’ve never seen someone tie a kimono as perfectly as you. So that’s at least three. Sounds like you might be good at plenty of things.”

Kyouka’s eyes are blown wide now. Atsushi lets her sit with that, washes three more dogs before she finally speaks again.

“You’re not bad at that,” she says. “You can come by a few times a week. It’s better to rotate when they get washed.”

“I’ll do that,” Atsushi says. “Kyouka-chan, what do you like to eat?”

“To eat…?” She sounds faintly surprised at having been asked. Atsushi smiles. If Kyouka is this easy to get along with, it shouldn’t be all that hard to get used to working with her. “Boiled tofu. And sweets.”

“I’ll bring you some,” Atsushi promises.

“How will you manage that in the West Block?” Again, that surprise. Has no one really treated Kyouka like a person? Like a girl with wants and needs and emotions?

“I’ll figure something out,” Atsushi says. After all, he does know a smuggling ring.

“You have to keep promises,” Kyouka says, but something else breaks in her blue eyes, an emotion that Atsushi hasn’t seen since he left No. 6.

Kyouka believes in him.

#shin soukoku #sskk #akuatsu #atsuaku #soukoku #skk #bungou stray dogs #bsd #my writing #no. 6 au #systasis

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reddeadredemptiontrash · 5 years

Text

An Unexpected Turn Of Events (Sadie Adler x female!reader)

AN: I didn’t forget this lmao! I just finally had the time to finish it. Maybe now I’ll work on some John x Reader? Hmmm..... Hope you all enjoy! Sadie’s my girl lmao.

When you had joined the gang a few months ago, you surprisingly got along with just about everyone, you even tolerated Micah and he never bothered you, only saying a few words to you since they had found you.

It all started with you waking up in your home to noises outside, seeing a group of men heading towards your barn and a few heading towards your door. Luckily none of them saw you until you were already slipped out the door and onto your horse, still in your nightgown and nothing else but a small pistol clutched in your hand an by then, it was already too late and in the snowstorm, too big of a hassle to chase after you. They would get money, jewelry, anything of value which was most likely what they wanted. You had heard talk of a gang called O’Driscolls that thought they owed the place and did what they pleased, kidnapping and killing many innocent people without a care in the world. You were shaking and your teeth were chattering so hard that every single bone in your body felt painful and numb all at the same time. You rode what felt like hours, trying to find something, anywhere with people so you could try and seek help. Your horse had passed out and died in the snow, too tired and sick of the cold to push on so it left you walking, that’s when you heard a smooth voice and a rough deep voice from the distance. You saw two lanterns and screamed and waved as hard and fast as you could as your legs gave out from underneath you, pushing your body into the snow. They were skeptical, sure. They had every right to be, but one reassured the other, mumbling that they found one so they might as well take in another and that Dutch would most likely not be upset. You didn’t know that hours beforehand young Sadie Adler had her whole life flipped upside down as well.

Welcomes to the camp were warm, unlike the cold snow continuing to blow outside. Two girls grabbed you and pulled you into a small wooden building where a fire was lit and the goosebumps finally started to disappear from your skin. They introduced themselves as Mary-Beth and Karen, and that’s when you saw the blonde haired girl, wrapped in a blanket staring distantly at the flames with blood shot eyes and tear stained cheeks. Another girl, whose name you learned was Tilly had a hand over hers as she gave her reassuring looks. Sadie Adler.

You were the first to try and talk to her about a week after everything had happened. You told her that her eyes were too beautiful to hold tears in them like she did, and you complimented the dress she was in, from what you saw under the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looked at you, gave you a small nod and a quiet thanks as she stared off into space again. You slowly opened up to her, telling her about your situation, and that it had to be a reason, because everything happened from a reason, and that you could tell she was a strong and brave woman, and that you were there to lend a listening ear if she needed to vent because she looked as if she had a thousand thoughts a minute. She thanked you, but didn’t really start opening up to you until the camp finally moved out of the cold and snowy mountains and into a much better area. You’d sit with her, despite people telling you that she wasn’t going to talk and that you might as well not waste your time, but you weren’t going to declare her as a lost cause yet. You helped her with chores, you played dominoes a few times with her and sat with her when the gang had their sing alongs around the fire, and even convinced Arthur to take her into town with him a few times. She begin telling you about her life before everything happened, and not a conversation went by where she didn’t mention Jake, but you didn’t mind. You admired the amount of care and love she had for the man, and respected her for it. Within a few weeks, you were one of what she considered her closest friends in the camp and found herself liking your presence more and more each time you talked. She never once felt any disliking towards you, you were always so kind and caring and respectful towards her, how could she?

So when she suddenly up and just stopped talking to you, it left you a little puzzled. The first day, you brushed it off. Sure, you two were close, but even on busy days in the camp, you two didn’t talk every single day, or you assumed maybe it was Jake’s birthday, or their anniversary and understood, thinking she just needed some alone time.

The first few days, you still tried to not let it faze you. The camp was growing tense, with Pinkertons sniffing around and some of Dutch’s “plans” were questionable and his and Hosea’s constantly fighting (or his and Molly’s, which everyone heard in the late night hours) always left the people in camp with an uneasy feeling and everyone usually stayed quiet during those times, too awkward to laugh or talk to relieve some of the tension. You would see her sitting to herself, playing with a knife or throwing them in the trees in the forest that surrounded you all. At the end of the week, you tried to say a few words, to which she didn’t reply, leaving a weird feeling in your chest as you watch her sigh and walk away from you.

Two weeks went by and it was starting to eat at you. Every action and every word that you had done or said to Sadie replayed in your head constantly, and you played it over in your mind piece by piece, word by word, trying to dissect and try and see if you had done or said something to upset her, but nothing came up that would make sense. You tried to sit with her, to which she’d get up and leave, you’d go to her when she’d get back from riding her horse into town, to which she’d walk past you as if you were a ghost, and you tried to talk to her, only to get brushed off and ignored, and that feeling started to grow in your chest.

It hurt. Your friendship had been rounded because of....? What? Nothing? Everything? Maybe someone said something? Maybe she got tired of you? Maybe you said something? Maybe you got annoying? Maybe she found a better friend in the gang?

Sure, some of your thoughts were horribly childish but it was eating your insides, you constantly thought about it and wanted to change it. On day 15 of not talking, after Molly had told you to “join the club” after what felt like her and Dutch’s hundredth argument, you decided to see for yourself just what exactly was going on.

Of course, Sadie was nowhere to be seen and you just hoped that she hadn’t left for town. You continued to walk around until finally you saw her sitting near the edge of a lake to herself, kneels drawn to her chest. You mentally try and prepare what you’re going to say to her as you step forward, a small twig cracking under your feet causing her to jerk her head around and lock eyes with you. She stares for a moment before starting to move her legs down.

“Please stay.” You quickly rush out as her movements halt, you walking slowly towards her and sitting by her side. Awkward silence consumes you both for a few moments as you both stare out nervously towards the small lake.

“I just... I want to apologize.” You start off and are instantly cut off by a scoff, nearly a snort as you watch Sadie shake her head lightly, not looking at you. Your heart sinks a little, but you are determined to make her hear what you have to say.

“I wanted to apologize if I’ve said or done anything in the past few weeks to have upset you or make you mad towards me, or anyone else, but mainly me. Not that I’ve been counting, but it’s been like fifteen days since we’ve talked and you’ve even looked my way and... I miss you.” You admit and watch as her body stiffens at your last words, but you quickly continue.

“I miss our talks, I miss you fixing my finger up with we play five finger fillet, I miss making breakfast with you with Pearson, I miss our poor attempts to braid each other’s hair before giving up and just going to Tilly and Mary-Beth because we both can’t for shit. I miss borrowing some of your jeans and shirts because you know I’m not all that girly and you know I’m okay with dresses but I like wearing your clothes more. I miss going hunting with you and messing it up so that the deer runs away but you never get mad, I miss-“

“I get it.” She states, but you don’t let her get another word in.

“And suddenly it’s like everything’s in ice because it’s so cold and I wanted to give you space but now I’m thinkin’ I’ve really done something wrong and I don’t want to act like I don’t care because I do more than anything and it hurts me not spending time with you or talkin’ to you because you’re the closest person I have in this camp and I love the other girls too, don’t get me wrong, but they’re just not you.”

She lets out a small “hmph” sound, a small smile breaking over her lips as your heart picks itself up at that slightly.

“Never thought someone besides Jake would ever think so highly of a woman like me.” She says, finally meeting your eyes again.

“Of course I do, you’re great, amazing. You’re caring, kind, brave.... you’ve done so much for the camp and it goes so unnoticed and unappreciated and-“

“I ain’t lookin’ to be the camp hero, I just do what I feel is right.”

“So why’d you think it was right to just act like I was nonexistent for two weeks?” Silence.

She lets out a small sigh. “It’s... it’s real complicated Y/N. You wouldn’t understand, no one here would.”

You stare at her. “Maybe, maybe not. The only way to know is if you tell me.” You nudge her shoulder. “It’s gotta be important, since you usually don’t got a problem talking about these sorts of things. I ain’t gonna judge you if it’s something bad. We’ve all done bad here, even me.”

“I assure you that you won’t, no one will. It’s... it’s bad.”

“Did you say something to.... Milton?” You whisper lightly. Her eyes widen.

“Hell no! Why would you-“ She pauses. “It ain’t bad like that, I would never.”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

“I’m not even gonna ask if you killed someone.”

“Really?”

“I’m just saying, Micah’s been gone a few days and hasn’t came ba-“

“Please, I wouldn’t wait to murder the bastard out of sight. No.”

“Are you sick?”

She sighs.

“I don’t know, I guess you could say that. Fucked in the head, I don’t know.” You notice how nervous she’s acting, something Sadie Adler is never.

You nudge her arm again until she looks at you.

“I ain’t gonna make you tell me, but I swear whatever it is, you’re still gonna be Sadie to me.” She shakes her head, letting out a small laugh, but not a happy one.

“It’s just wrong, so so wrong.” She looks back out towards the lake, towards the sun that’s starting to set.

“To think, I was married for years, I was in love, I still am with Jake. He never used to leave my mind, I mean.. he’s still there but not like it used to be and now... I’m thinking.... I....” She pauses.

“Do you think it’s wrong.... two guys or two girls being together?” She asks, cutting herself off. You stare at her. You weren’t expecting that.

You shrug. “I don’t got a problem with it, it’s.. it’s something some people deal with I guess. I mean, I’ve thought girls were attractive over the years.” You shrug again. “Love is Love, as long as that people makes you happy than why’s it matter?”

“I have... I have these thoughts... about you. About my best friend. Thoughts I used to think with Jake and now you’re replacing him in my mind with those thoughts.” She rambles quickly and quietly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head again.

“It’s messed up right? A married woman like me, thinking about how she’s in love with her best friend? It’s messed up, I-..... I don’t know.” You sit and stare at her in silence because you REALLY weren’t expecting that.

“You think I’m messed up, don’t you? I shouldn’t have said nothing.” She says, shaking her head as she stands up, kicking at the dirt harshly.

“I know it’s fucked up, it’s wrong in so many different ways, and now I’ve gone and ruined one of the realest friendships I had here and-“

“Sadie.” You has never seen her freak out like this before. She stops at your voice, her eyes softening as she frowns.

“I’m sorry, I just... I tried. I really did to not think of you like that, I thought it was just the alcohol that night, we all were celebrating Sean coming back. I didn’t think too much of it, but then the next day... and the next day... and the next couple weeks I started seeing a side of myself that I didn’t know was there. I started questioning who I was and... my thoughts always went to you.” She explains lightly, scratching the back of her neck.

“I thought maybe if I just... was alone, they’d go away. But they got even worse. I’d see the beautiful face of yours, that red dress on you, watch you laugh and be your carefree self and just.... I can’t help it.” You stood back up, in front of Sadie as she watched you. You have her a small smile and held her arms.

“Sadie, I... I’m real honored. That a person like you thinks something like that of me and... well, truth be told, I’ve thought about it for a while. And... I think I like girls too. Well, I know. I have for some time, and maybe it ain’t right, but it can’t be wrong if it’s not just us, right? And plus, it don’t have to be right to others, as long as I’m happy, you’re happy and... we’re happy. Together.” She gives you a small smile. “Can I try something?” Her head tilts slightly.

“I... I wanna kiss you.” You state softly and suddenly her lips are pressed to yours. Your hands move up to her shoulders as one arm wraps around your hip and the other grabbing the back of your neck. Her lips are soft and tastes like berries. Your head is spinning and you just can’t believe that you’re kissing your best friend. And she’s kissing you. And she feels the same.

After a few moments a few little pecks, you two look at each other.

“Do we... do we tell them? The others.” She asks lightly and you shrug a little.

“Tell who you want, we can be as open about it as you like, or as quiet. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.” She lets out a small chuckle, pulling you close again.

“I think I like kissing you too much to hide it from too many.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption imagine #my wife #sadie adler #sadie adler x reader

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deansmyapplepie · 5 years

Text

Home

Pairing: None

Tags: The End, Comfort, Slight Trigger Warning (Anxiety)

Word Count: 1,621

A/N: Okay. As promised, here it is. This one was incredibly emotional for me to write, especially with season fifteen being the last. This one was my way to get all the emotions out and hopefully, provide from solace for the rest of you like it did for me. Always keep fighting.

(Gif not mine)

A gentle breeze made its way through the kitchen's open window, and although you weren't cold, you shivered. You hated nights like this. When you couldn't get out of your head, that is. It had started as soon as you had woken up that morning. The hole in your chest. It felt like a hollowness that threatened to crush you from the inside until you collapsed - similar to the feel of the beginning of an anxiety attack, but worse. Hugging your arms around yourself, you shuffled over to the window and closed it. The sun sat just above the horizon, turning the surrounding sky beautiful shades of oranges and pinks that could only come with a sunset. Even though it was still early, you had already decided to put on your pajamas: a pair of flannel lounge pants and a gray tank top. The comforting clothes didn't bring the desired effect with them, though. Honestly, you weren't sure what was bringing all of this on. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't really have anyone to talk to anymore. Yeah. That had to be it. You were lonely.

So, you picked up your phone and dialed the number you called when you needed some company. The boys were insanely busy all the time, and yet they somehow always managed to make time for you. Your heart sank into your stomach when the line rang twice and then went to voicemail. Of course, it did. You couldn't say you weren't disappointed, but you also weren't surprised. In fact, you felt a little stupid for calling in the first place. They had monsters to kill and the world to save. You were probably just being selfish for asking them to put down their guns and knives for the night and come keep you company. Unsure what else to do, you walked dejectedly into the living room and collapsed on the couch. The cool leather felt nice against your hot skin but otherwise didn't do much to stop your trembling. You forced yourself into a sitting position and clasped your hands tightly together, willing them to steady. When they didn't, you pressed them on your thighs in an irritated manner. This was going to be a long night. Then, you heard the soft but unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock, and the front door flew open. Dean waltzed in carrying a large grocery bag, his brother only steps behind him.

"Honey, we're home!" Dean called, his voice echoing throughout the small space. Just like that, your spirits lifted. You jumped up from the couch, throwing one arm around each man.

"Whoa!" Sam exclaimed. "Did you miss us or something?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," you replied breathlessly. "What's all this?" You pointed at the grocery bags. They both went into the living room, getting a small feast set up on your coffee table in front of the television. The way they moved around your home with such familiarity instilled a sense of peace in you.

"Dinner!" Dean answered excitedly. Eyeing the boxes of pizza and large bucket of fried chicken, you couldn't help but grin.

"Why so much?" Sam rolled his eyes before pointing a thumb at his older brother.

"He couldn't decide between pizza or chicken, so he thought it'd be a good idea to get both." You reached up to pat a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"It is a good idea." He shook his head, muttering something about cholesterol as he went into the kitchen.

"Grab some beer!" Dean yelled after his brother, plopping himself down on the couch.

"So, not that I'm complaining, but what are you two doing here?" you asked as you sat down next to him. Kicking his shoes off, Dean propped his feet up.

"Well, Sammy and I were in town, and we figured we'd crash here for the week since it's been a while since we've seen you." You couldn't have suppressed the smile that came onto your face if you tried. The only people that could ever make you this happy were the Winchester brothers.

"If that's okay with you," Sam finished, handing you a beer. You took the bottle gratefully as you continued to beam.

"Of course, that's okay! You two are my favorite people of all time, and you know you're always welcome here. That's why I gave you the spare key." The younger Winchester settled into the couch on the other side of you and wrapped one of his long arms around your shoulders.

"Thanks, Y/N." You leaned forward and took a slice of pizza from the box.

"I should be the one thanking you," you said. "I was lonely, and you guys just happen to come with dinner? We must've been on the same wavelength or something." Dean gave a small laugh, reaching for the remote.

"Okay, what are we watchin' tonight? Because I'm feeling some Hatchet Man Lives."

"Dean," Sam groaned. "We've watched that stupid movie more times than I can count." Dean gasped.

"Don't you dare call Hatchet Man Lives stupid!" You snorted as you ate your pizza. They had this argument every time the three of you sat down to watch a movie.

"What about Overboard?" you asked. The two boys stared at you, both looking nonplussed. "What? It's a classic!"

"It's a rom-com," Dean pointed out, shuddering as he said it. You smacked his arm playfully.

"Oh, shut up," you teased. "You know you like it." Sam gave another groan.

"Fine," he surrendered. "I'll put it in." You gave the tall man an obnoxious kiss on the cheek, and he brushed you off, feigning irritation as he stood.

"Thank you, I love you!" Sam waved a hand over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. Dean pulled you to him in a one-armed hug.

"Missed you, kiddo." You shoved the last of the pizza slice into your mouth-throwing your now free hand around his torso.

"Missed you too, Dean." About half an hour into the movie, you glanced over at the boys, who were both hopelessly sucked in.

As they laughed softly at the screen, you couldn't help but relive all of your memories with the Winchesters - both good and bad. How you were the first person they came to check on every time the world had almost ended. You vividly remembered the few months they had spent here after Bobby died. All the times the three of you had stayed up late marathoning movies and television shows never failed to bring a smile to your face. So did memories of helping the boys play pranks on each other. At this point, they knew better than to prank you. But your favorite memories came from Sam and Dean coming to your house when you needed them the most. Or when they needed you. When you were feeling especially alone, you knew your favorite brothers were only a call away. And every time they'd had a rough hunt, they came here. Even if the bunker was closer. This was their place they could get away from the horrors they'd seen. Somewhere they could call home. And you loved that more than anything. Whenever you were down, you made a point of looking through your pictures with the boys - your favorite being the three of you sitting on this very couch, mouths open wide with laughter. You couldn't say you remembered what you were laughing at, but it didn't really matter. Fifteen years. You had had fifteen wonderful years with these boys, and they brought you more joy than anything else in this world. They brought with them a family that you hadn't known that you needed until they came into your life. Sam and Dean always made you feel as if you belonged. But above all, they always made you feel so, so loved. And you truly couldn't imagine a life without them. When they were around, the hole in your heart became nonexistent. You were home, you realized with a start. They were your home. And you were theirs. You let out a small sniff as tears welled up in your eyes. The boys immediately took notice, Sam reaching for the remote to pause the movie and Dean wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Sweetheart?" Dean asked, rubbing small circles on your arm with his thumb. "You okay?" You nodded vigorously, giving a watery smile and wiping tears from your cheeks. Sam took your hands in his significantly larger ones as he looked at you with concern.

"What is it?" Licking your lips, you willed the lump in your throat to go down.

"I'm just so grateful I met you boys. That's all." They both sandwiched you in a big hug, which had even more tears pricking at your eyes.

"Dean and I love you, Y/N," Sam reminded you. You squeezed your arms around both of them.

"I love you both, too. You're my family." Dean chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Damn straight," he affirmed. "Remember what Sammy and I always tell you?" Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest, but not with grief or sorrow. With a deep, bittersweet type of pain that made you incredibly happy. You let out a small smile again, although you knew they probably couldn't see it.

"Family don't end with blood." And in that moment, with the Winchesters, your family, on either side of you, you knew without a doubt that everything was going to be all right. Because you loved these boys with all your heart, and you knew that they loved you just the same.

As long as you had them, you would always be home.

Thank you so, so much for reading! Please tell me what you thought! This one was incredibly difficult for me to get through and I would really appreciate hearing from you.

#Supernatural #Supernatural Fanfiction #The End #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Reader #Original Character #comfort fic #Winchesters Never Die #Always keep fighting

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proxylynn · 5 years

Text

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #20

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

This day started off sour and it continued to feel weirder as the time dragged on. Sans stared off into space, a strong sense of boredom and slight unknown thing weighed heavily on his mind. A small nagging feeling in the back of his skull. That sense of "did I leave the oven on" type thing. But he couldn't think of what it could be. Other than that, the boredom was draining. The magazines he stashed under his station that normally were entertaining now held very little interest. Hell, he didn't even feel like eating one of his decked out hot dogs. Something was wrong. He just didn't know what it was.

Maybe...Maybe doing something a little monotonous would make some part of this day feel normal. So after making sure the coast is clear of the order-barking Papyrus, Sans vacates his post and heads for the door that exits the Ruins. It's possible that the old goat woman will join in if he catches her there. But mostly he was hoping to just be able to knock alone. So once he planted his caboose in the snow and leaned his back to the monolithic doors, Sans took a long breath before tapping his knuckles upon the stone.

[Knock knock]

He pauses to listen if there's any response to come from the other side. When none came he sighed with relief and began with the first thing that came to mind. Though it now meant that the receiver of the jokes had to be internally.

Who's there?

"some."

Some who?

"some asshole telling knock-knock jokes."

He chuckles to himself and knocks again

Who's there?

"go fuck yourself, i don't need to tell you shit."

He seemed to be in a rather agitated mood and his jokes expressed it well. But agitation is only the beginning. For soon...they begin to darken.

"a man walks into a library and asks for a book on how to commit suicide. the librarian tells the man to go jump off a cliff because he'd never return the book."

He snickers.

"why do orphans like playing tennis? because that's the only love they can get."

Not to mention some jokes are just in poor taste.

"a woman delivers a baby. the doctor takes the baby and throws it. smashing it around the hospital room, drop-kicking it, etc. the mother starts freaking out, being held back by nurses, and begging 'why!?'. the doctor holds the baby upside down by the ankle and says 'i am just fucking with you, it was born dead'."

He really had to be careful when telling dead baby jokes. Toriel heard part of one once and her rage induced flames managed to seep their way out the cracks.

"after a long painful labor, a doctor approaches the new mother and says 'ma'am, i've got some good news and some bad news. what would you like to hear first?'. after thinking it over she responds 'i will have the bad news first doctor'. the doctor replies 'well, i am not sure how to put this, but i am sorry to tell you, your child is dead'. a little puzzled, the woman responds with 'doctor, if that is the bad news, what is the good news?'. the doctor replies simply 'i was not ready to be a dad anyway'."

He laughs at the dark humor but his laughter his hollow. Something just isn't right. Nothing was lifting his spirits or making this feel any more normal. Damn it, why couldn't he get this nagging feeling to go away?! Why can't things just go back to the way they were? Before any of this stupid crap. Before...

"Sans? Is that you?"

Her voice nearly spooked him yet part of him was relieved. This part is somewhat normal except for her worried voice.

"yeah. it's me. you okay?"

"My daughter...Please tell me she is okay."

Daughter...? Oh, fuck! The human! They forgot about the human! Shit! Quick! Think of a cover story!

"*nervous* the kid? s-she's fine. why do ya ask?"

"We spoke not too long ago. She told me of a great many things. Things you have not told me of."

Sans began to sweat.

"w-what kind of things?"

"Sans...You would tell me if something was truly wrong, would you not?"

Keep it together man. Just be cool. It's not like she knows about any of the sinful things you regret.

"tori, you're the first person i'd come to if something was wrong with her."

"How long?"

"how long what?"

"How long has she been going through her maturity state?"

God dang it, human! Why'd you tell her that? Who's he kidding. Of course, she'd tell her. It's her mom.

"not long. a few days at the most."

"And this...This has not caused an issue with the Black Soul, has it?"

"no. that thing hasn't been triggered by it at all so far."

"Good. ...That is very good."

"are you sure you're okay, tori?"

There's a pause that has him concerned.

"tori?"

"Am I a good mother?"

Where the fuck did that come from?!

"huh?"

"All of my children...I try to be a good mother and do what is best for them...and in the end, they all leave me in some way or another."

"you can't say dumb shit like that. what happened to the princes wasn't your fault."

"Then what of the seven that fell after? They all left me too...only to die and their souls collected."

"they knew the risks. you warned them that the outside was cruel and they chose to go anyway. you can't help it if they didn't want to listen."

"And Lynsie? She has yet to return to me as she said she would."

"to be fair...it's not like we're giving her that chance."

"But you let her be in a bar? Why let her be there and not let her come home?"

She had him by his nonexistent balls there.

"she's kept watched over there. we can't skip work to be her babysitter."

"Then let her come home!"

"it's not that simple."

"Yes, it is!"

"no, it's not!"

This was the first time he'd ever raised his voice to Toriel.

"do you think i like risking my neck for a human? after what they did to us? what they stole from us? all the lives lost and the years spent in this underground prison. and now...now i'm stuck with one in my own house and i'm supposed to act like it's normal? well, it ain't fucking normal!"

"She is not like those other humans. You know this."

"that's not the point! the damn town knows we have a human. they just don't know it's her. if word got out, then undyne wouldn't rest till she found her and killed the traitors that hid the human all this time."

"Sans..."

"i only agreed to this promise because you threatened to kill yourself. if i could bring her back here, i would so then i wouldn't have to put up with her anymore. but i can't. pap would know i let her go and he'd never forgive me for it. i can live with a lot of things. but my brother's disappointment? i can't live with that, tori."

She goes quiet.

"be thankful you get the phone calls. not everyone has the chance to speak with someone they care for."

"...You lost someone important in the war, did you not?"

Sans felt his soul tighten harshly.

"i have to get back to work."

He stands up and dusts the snow off himself.

"Sans, wait!"

He should've said nothing and walked away.

"what?"

"Tell her...That I am not mad. That I am sorry. And that I hope she can forgive this foolish old woman. Can you do me this last request, my friend?"

He didn't like how that sounded.

"oh no. do not say that. you do not get to pull this crap on me. you will not guilt me like this!"

"I have troubled you enough."

He hits the door.

"take it back! you take it back right now!"

There is no reply and he pounds on the door like a mad man.

"tori! tori, open this god damn door! i swear i will...!"

"SANS!"

Papyrus came running in controlled alarm.

"SANS! THE HUMAN!"

"kinda in the middle of something more important here, bro. tori, don't you dare do anything stupid or so help me i'll...!"

Papyrus clutches his brother's head in his palm.

"NEVER DISREGARD ME AGAIN."

"sure, fine, whatever. now, what do you want?"

Papyrus glares at this disrespect but lets it slide this once since the Queen is involved.

"WE FORGOT THE HUMAN WAS LEFT UNATTENDED."

"and...?"

"I WENT BACK TO CHECK ON HER AND SHE IS NOT THERE."

That got Sans's attention.

"what?"

"HER AND THE FLOWER ARE NO LONGER IN OUR HOME."

"and she's not a grillby's?"

"I CHECKED. HE SEEMED TO KNOW NOTHING BUT IT FELT LIKE HE KNEW MORE THAN WHAT HE TOLD ME."

"shit, this isn't good."

"I AM HEADING TO WATERFALL. SHE COULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN FAR."

Waterfall...? Oh yeah!

"wait, pap, i'll go."

That had Papyrus eye his brother curiously.

"YOU? WHY?"

"well, for one, you kinda stand out. if she or anyone else saw you, it would tip them off to something being up. but me? hell, no one gives a rat's ass what i do."

"THAT IS TRUE."

"and two...i know where she's going."

"YOU WHAT?!"

Before the skeleton has a chance to respond a strange sound grabbed their attention. A sound neither has ever heard but knew what it was. The eerie rumbling of heavy stone that lets escape a massive plume of heat that melts the surrounding snow within five meters. Dread consumes their bones. Even the great and terrible Papyrus quacked in fear at the smoldering red eyes leering in the darkness beyond the door.

"Am I hearing that correctly? You have lost my daughter?"

"oh..."

"SHIT."

[Meanwhile: Hotland's Laboratory]

"Holy crap!"

Alphys had been keeping tabs on Sans this day. As she had been doing ever since she pinned him down with the knowledge of the human. The low ranking skeleton that once was her superior never failed to reveal more things that piqued her interest, this day is no different. Though she had to admit she did not expect the dialog heard, the news of the human's lack of whereabouts, or the emergence of the Queen from the Ruins. This level of drama was on par with some of her all-time favorite animes. But still...perhaps the script of this show could use just a bit more development.

"Mettaton! Get your ass in here!"

The robot responds from deep beneath the building, returning from a secret elevator hidden in plain sight and lugging empty bags of pet food.

"YOU KNOW, I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THEY'RE STARTING TO FORM THEIR OWN PERSONALITIES. THAT SNOW BIRD KEEPS MUTTERING A NAME FROM ITS PAST. ARE YOU CERTAIN THEY'RE MINDLESS ABOMINATIONS?"

"I'm sorry, are you the scientist around here with years of study? No? Then shut up about them and get over here. I think you'll find this interesting."

The sneaky smirk curling the corners of the lizard's lips gave him warnings of unpleasantness. But he could not disobey and wheeled over to her side.

"SPYING ON THE SKELETON AGAIN? AND YOU THINK MY HUMAN HOBBY IS WEIRD."

Now seeing the enhanced screen, Mettaton looked on in confusion as the doors to the Ruins parted and a very furriest looking female version of Asgore stepped out much to the horror of the two skeletons that began to back away slowly while pleading.

"IS THAT...?"

"Yep. Queen Toriel Dreemurr. This is the first time she's set foot outside since she banished herself years ago."

"BUT...WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE? SHE NEVER LEAVES THE RUINS, RIGHT? WHAT'S GOT HER SO UPSET?"

Alphys grins wickedly.

"See those two? They've been watching over the human for her."

"I KNOW THAT."

"Well...They've just let it slip that they don't know where the human is. Now, what do you suppose that means?"

The screen of the robot began to flicker about in a light show of questionable display.

"OH DEAR. SUCH A TRAGEDY. A POOR LOST SOUL OUT SOMEWHERE IN THIS HARSH WORLD. IT WOULD BE SUCH A SHAME IF SOMETHING WERE TO HAPPEN TO THEM."

The dark insinuation in his digital voice was the seed the manipulative lizard was hoping to plant.

"I give you permission to retrieve the human. Though if they get to it before you, do not engage."

"UNDERSTOOD. AND MY SHOWS?"

"I'll remix some older clips. No one will know the difference."

A slightly distorted laugh escapes the robot and it wheels away all too innocently.

"POOR UNFORTUNATE SOUL, HAVE NO FEAR. YOUR KNIGHT IS COMING, MY DEAR."

Alphys couldn't help the enjoyment this was bringing her. She honestly considered letting Undyne in on this action but that might turn this party into a slaughterhouse and she'd rather not have this end so soon. Now all she had to do was watch this show that she has orchestrated. Still, she hated that there was only one camera in Waterfall. She really needed to put in more cameras around the underground.

[Meanwhile: downstream on the river to Waterfall]

The water is calm and the temperature is mellowing out. The land begins to transition from ice to marsh. The air has a scent I haven't smelled in a long time. The faint smell of flowers and wet grass. This place, colored in purples and blues. Mushrooms, Typha, and shimmering crystals decorate the land sporadically but make it so...enchanting. With all the hate and death that seems to be bread in this underground world, it's amazing to me that there is such beauty that appears untainted by darkness.

"Do not be taken in by what you see, little one."

The Riverperson speaks after a long as hell time of silence.

"Pretty faces hide the ugliest intentions...Tra la la."

"Then by that logic, the more grotesque the thing looks the less wicked its motives. Heh...Ugly Fish must be a saint."

It turns to look at me and I shrug my shoulders.

"What? I'm just messing with you. I understood your warning. Don't judge things by how they look. I'm not retarded."

It looks away from me again.

"You should take things more seriously. Wild waters will soon come."

I get that is giving me these cryptic warnings for a reason. But the condescending tone pisses me off.

"Good thing I know how to swim."

The boat dips into the water sharply and rocks harshly as it stabilizes. The Riverperson doesn't move out of place in the slightest, almost as if it flowed with the motions like it wasn't even moving. I myself take the turbulence with some ease, used to moving with the motions in a speeding car, but I do grip the sides when the back end is flung up in its return to stability. The hooded fairer of this vessel looks back again over its shoulder.

"It doesn't help to swim if you can't keep breathing. Do not drown in the black deep. Or you will never come back."

Well, that hit more of the ominous nail on the head.

"Tra la la. Eat a mushroom every day."

"Why?"

The boat approaches a simple open area much like that in Snowdin and it once more looks away from me.

"Why? Then I know you're listening to me...Tra la la."

I want to take this thing seriously but when it does shit like that it makes it really hard not to call it out on such bull shit.

"No sweat there. I like mushrooms."

When the boat docks, I carefully stand up and step once more on top solid ground.

"I hope it's not too much trouble to ask this, but how long do you tend to dock here?"

"I come when I am needed."

"Great. We'll get to chat more later. I'll be needing a ride back to Snowdin."

"Then perhaps another time. Or perhaps not. It doesn't really matter."

With that, the boat returns to the rivers current and leaves me snickering to myself.

"Geez, what a weirdo."

Flowey pokes out of the backpack.

"What was all that stuff you both were on about?"

I wave dismissively.

"Sorry bro, but that's a whole dumpster load of junk I'm not diving into right now. Maybe later."

"*huff* Fine. Let's just find that ghost's house and get home before we run into any more nut jobs."

"I'd say eccentric but to each their own."

I walk up the way to meet a fork in this path. A road to my left, a road to my right, and a cave in front of me with a very familiar item holding box sitting on the ground.

"Wow. It's been forever since we've seen one of those."

"I can't read the inscriptions above the cave. Can you?"

"Um...I think it says something about a 'shop' being inside. That or something about cheese. I'm a little rusty on my ability to read old monster glyphs."

"...Why would you even know that, Flowey?"

"Eh, you learn weird stuff when you're bored."

"True that. Should we...?"

"You're going to anyway. But thanks for asking."

"You know me so well."

A slight detour it sure, but the last shop I was in had human gear and maybe this one does too. With all the warning I keep getting and the lack of training on my end, my stats need the extra boost. Stepping inside we find the cave to be a bit of a decent size and lit by torches. In the back, there's a stack of crates and a monster facing the end of the cavern while munching on something.

"Hello?"

The monster turns around and it is not what I was expecting. An elderly looking olive green tortoise-monster wearing black archaeologist attire, with the pointed beard of a wise man, a large magnifying glass sticks out of, and matching pith helmet. His teeth are crooked and yellow, his shell is a dark brown in color with a pale cream rim. He also has a scar over his right eye and seems unable to open it. And that thing he's eating looks like an apple but also looks like a crab. Very confusing really.

"Wa ha ha...So someone actually came here? What a treat!"

His gruff voice makes it hard to tell if he's happy to see me or pissed off.

"You look a little frazzled, youngster. Then again, I suppose that's appropriate for a human in these parts."

My eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Surprised I know what you are, huh?"

I rub the back of my head.

"Just a bit. Not many monsters really know my little secret. Probably helps that they don't ask either."

"That's not shockin'. Today's generation doesn't bother to learn anythin' about it's past. It's also probably the same reason you can walk around with the symbol of the royal family on your blouse."

I look at my shirt.

"I was told it was the emblem for monster kind."

The old man works a laugh in as he finishes his strange fruit.

"Maybe they are teachin' you youngsters somethin' in school. Have a gander at this..."

He points to the back wall and only now do I notice the large carving of the same symbol in the stone.

"That's the Delta Rune. The emblem of our kingdom. The Kingdom of Monsters. That emblem actually predates written history. The original meaning has been lost to time...All we know is that the triangles symbolize us monsters below, and the winged circle above symbolizes...Somethin' else. Most people say it's the 'angel' from the prophecy..."

Hearing that word triggers the warning the Riverperson spoke of.

"I'm sorry, but, what is this prophecy?

He removes his hat and rubs his scalp a bit before putting it back on.

"The prophecy? Oh yeah...Legend has it, an 'angel' who has seen the surface will descend from above and bring us freedom. Lately, people have been takin' a bleaker outlook...Callin' that circle the 'Angel of Death'. A harbinger of destruction, waitin' to 'free' us from this mortal realm."

I really don't like the sound of that.

"In my opinion, when I see that little circle...I jus' think it looks neat! Wahaha!"

The humor is lost on me. I'm too worried about what this has to do with what the Riverperson said. The angel is coming, it said. The prophecy says 'someone who has seen the surface will descend from above', and that sounds a lot like me. I don't want to be this Angel of Death. I don't want to free them with murder. The old man notices my sulking.

"You look upset. Not a fan of the idea of us monsters goin' free?"

I shake my head.

"No...I was just thinking that your prophecy sounded really sad."

That takes him by surprise.

"You're not like most humans I've had the displeasure to meet. To be honest, if it weren't for the law that prevents fights from happenin' in shops, I would've killed you the second I saw you."

A bit harsh, but I'm used to it at this point.

"But...these old bones aren't fit for fightin' anyhoo. Haven't been for a long time."

"I know you..."

Flowey chimes in and gets our attention.

"Yeah! You're Gerson, the Hammer of Punishment. You lead the army during the war and were the adviser to the King."

The old man smirks.

"Wa ha ha...Maybe there's hope for this generation after all."

"You were in the war? That was ages ago. How are you still alive?"

"Knowledge is the only reason I've survived so long, human. It's how anythin' stays alive if you think about it. But you didn't come here to listen to the ramblin's of an ol' man."

I roll my shoulders.

"No, not really. But I will admit, I don't mind if you do. You sound like you have a lot of interesting things to say. It'd be a shame not to listen while I'm able to."

The old man gives pause before moving one of the crates and popping the lid off.

"I don't have much in the way of goods. But if you're lookin' to buy, then have a look."

"Thank you."

"And don't expect a discount just because you're bein' nice. I still need to make a livin'."

"Understood, sir."

I move closer to look into the crate. Inside are only four objects. That strange fruit, a salty smelling bottle of tea, a notebook that has seen better days, and a pair of glasses that are scratched all to hell.

"I know those don't look like much, but they are far from done bein' used."

"Might I ask, are they from a human that is no longer with us?"

He merely nods.

"How much?"

"30G for the glasses and 55G for the notebook."

I cringe.

"Damn...Why so pricey for damaged goods?"

"They're one of a kind human collectibles. You can't get them anywhere else."

"Still...You sure you can't knock that number a bit lower?"

"*huff* How much do you have?"

I dig around in my pockets and backpack, only managing to scrounge up about 60G.

"Only that much, huh? Then you can have one or the other."

"Are you sure there's no way I can get both?"

He plays with his beard in thought.

"Hmmm...I suppose I can be open to a trade. What are you willin' to part with?"

"I didn't fall down here with much. All I have really is some bagged lunches."

His good eye cocks its brow.

"Anything without meat?"

I look at Flowey and he ducks inside the bag.

"Um...I see a cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato. Will that work?"

I look at the old man and he ponders this for a moment.

"Hmmm...Fine. At least it's somethin' different. I've been stuck with these Crab Apples for way too long."

Crab...Apples? I am both curious to taste it and disgusted by how such a thing could be made.

"Deal."

We make the trade, my gold and food for the two items.

"Thank you for your patronage, youngster."

"Thank you for the hospitality and goods. I'll be sure to stop by again...so long as this doesn't reach the Royal Guard."

He chuckles.

"Aye, you needn't worry about me tellin' anyone you were here. You seem alright...for a human. As long as you don't cause any trouble I won't meddle in your business."

"I thank you kindly, sir. Have a good day."

He waves me off as I head back out of the cave.

"Good luck out there...You'll need it."

"Oh! Real quick question...Which way to where the ghosts live?"

"Out and to the right."

"Thanks again."

I leave the cave and look at my purchases.

"How are you suppose to equip those?"

"Good question. The glasses are the easy one. But the notebook...No clue there."

The glass lenses are way too damaged to see through, so I merely hang them from my shirt's collar till I can find a way to repair them.

[You equipped the Ruined Glasses.]

[Glasses that have seen better days.]

[You gain 6 Defense and increase Invulnerability by 9.]

"Ha. I see what it did there."

"Please don't pun."

"Fine. But this makes me wonder..."

I take the notebook and flip through it a little.

[Contains illegible entries.]

"Huh. What were they writing about?"

I carefully roll the notebook and place it in the pocket along my lower leg.

[You equipped the Mystery Notebook.]

[You gain 2 Attack and increase Invulnerability by 6.]

"And that brings us up to...?"

[CHECK selected.]

[HP 36, ATK 33, and DEF 27]

"Almost have even stats. Damn you DEF, why you so slow to catch up?"

"I bey your INV is about the same."

"Goes to show that much like a video game, the best stats in life are the harder ones to improve."

I sigh before grinning with a hero pose.

"Fear not, my botanical brother. For our quest is nearly at its end and we have procured, all be it silly, armor that shall, somehow, protect us on our perilous journey."

Flowey bops his face with a leaf.

"You are arguably the biggest dork in the entire Underground."

"You know you love it. Now let us away, my bro. Tally ho!"

I prance us to where we were instructed to go and end up in a very open area that can go many ways. From where I stand there is a path to my left, the main road ahead of me, and three paths to my right. This would be incredibly confusing if not for the random sign by one of the paths on the right.

[North: Blook Acres, East: Hotland, ?: Temmie Village]

"So it's North? Which way is that?"

"I think from the sign. So Hotland would be where we were coming from and Blook Acres is up here."

"Okay...But which one?"

"I'm picking the one closest to the sign. Makes the most sense."

Flowey shrugs and we head into this new area that turns out to be as big as it is...odd. It looks to be a corral on one end and a small race track on the other, both seem to have not been used in quite some time. In the corral is a vast amount of snail shells and heavy paw prints leading a trail of suspicion. My gut feeling is someone stole the snails, maybe even ate them. The footprints resemble Toriel's and the snail habit fits her too, but I know this isn't her doing. My only guess based on such data would be that this is the work of Asgore or some other goat monster. Wait...Why do goat monsters have paws? Shouldn't they have hooves? I feel like I've asked that before. Oh well, Monster DNA/evolution can be just as weird as human's, I mean, we came from apes. Since the only other way is to the left, I move over there to find two near identical large houses, only different in color, one dark grey and one dull red.

"Which do you think is his?"

"I say the grey one."

"Why?"

"There's a light under the door."

"Oh."

The other house was probably Mettaton's before he left. I go to the grey house and knock on the door.

[Knock knock]

"piss off! can't you see? we're closed forever!"

"Shame. And after I came all this way just to see you."

There's a bit of a scuffle, a small bit of swearing and things clattering as he rushes to the door. It's cute. The door opens and the ghost is very shocked to see me.

"you actually came?"

"Sorry, I'm late. I would've called but this was more of a surprise type thing even on my end. My I...?"

I elude to him letting me inside and he backs up a bit.

"Thank you, Blooky. Hope I'm not bothering you in the middle of something."

"n-no. nothing important or anything."

He lets me in his home and shuts the door before locking it. You'd think a ghost wouldn't need much, but Napstablook has a fairly decent setup for his home all be it for its slightly disheveled condition. The dull yellow walls are cracking in places and the wooden floor reminds me of the skeleton brothers shed in its condition. His home possesses a fridge, a television, a spiderweb with a torn flyer for a spider bake sale, a computer open to some music-sharing forum with a window blocked behind it all, some boxes, and three CDs, labeled "Ghouliday", "Spookwave", and "Spooktune".

"sorry, it's not much, but make yourself at home."

"Nah, dude, this is fine. So...Closed forever?"

"oh, that...um...it's kind of, or was, a family tradition of running a snail farm. people would come in and pet them. you could even race them for a cash prize."

"Race...Snails?"

"they're faster than you'd think. but...slowly...everyone left to do their own thing. for a while, it was just me and my cousin. then even he left. now it's just me. so i shut it down. I couldn't do it anymore anyway. the business was tanking, so it's not like I could afford to hire anyone to help, let alone resupply my snails because some weirdo kept taking them. eventually, the business died with the last snail."

Mettaton's leaving really did more to this poor guy then he knows.

"Blooky..."

"don't. don't feel bad for me. I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. It's sympathy. Don't confuse the two. I'd never think of insulting you like that."

He looks off to the side as I sit on the floor and take off the backpack to let Flowey out.

"oh...you brought him along?"

Flowey sneers.

"Gee, happy to see you too."

"Boys, don't fight. Being a snarky bitch is woman's work."

I dig for my iPod in the bag.

"Yo, Blook-man. Ever find that charger? My tunes are about to flat line."

He floats over to the boxes and rummages around.

"what's the brand?"

"Apple. White cord usually."

I locate my player just as he pulls out a long white cord that he then plugs into his computer and I slide the iPod across the floor to him for charging.

"this shouldn't take long."

"No rush."

"No rush? What do you mean no rush? I thought you said we'd get caught if we stayed here too long? Or are you going off script again?"

This gets our host's attention.

"wait...did you...you snuck off, didn't you?"

I shrug.

"Maybe."

"you said you weren't going to do anything stupid if I told you about the boat."

"I didn't do anything stupid. I have to get caught first. Then I'm proven stupid."

Flowey groans and Napstablook shakes his head. But me? I lay flat on the floor.

"Will you both relax? None of you are the ones that have to worry about being killed. So quit being pissy and chill. Please?"

I know I'm messing up. I don't need them to tell me that. All their nagging will end up doing is stressing me out and that will make me fuck up when I really need to concentrate. I just pray nothing too insane happens today. I can handle lots of crazy shit, but sometimes I can be overloaded. And if or when that happens, I fear it will trigger the Black Soul. For now, at least, my plan is to remain as calm as can be.

And that's how things are for some time. Napstablook downloads my extensive music collection to add to his vast library of songs. He plans to go over all of it and mix whatever he thinks is decent. Flowey listens to some of his sample mixes, though by the creepy faces he's making, I don't think he likes it. I, for the most part, take part in the ghost tradition of laying on the floor and zoning out into the infinity of the cosmos, aka, stare into the ceiling until you start to see shit that isn't there. Surprisingly, Napstablook does offer us some food, mainly ghost sandwiches. Not surprisingly, the magic made meal phases right through us. Napstablook finds the moment funny. Right now I'm just dead inside. I've let all thought leave me and this never felt sense of 'everything is just okay' comes to me. It's weird. This feeling of peace that's only now been found in absolute stillness. Why am I only feeling this now when I've done this before for years? I guess can't complain. Better to know the feeling than to not at all.

[RING-RING]

Of course, a phone call would interrupt my mental accession to self-contentment. Fuck it. Not today.

[RING-RING]

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"No. I'm not here."

[RING-RING]

"so you're just going to let it ring?"

"If I do anything they'll know that I had the phone and intentionally shut it off."

[RING-RING]

"What if it's Mom? Ignoring her won't end well."

"he has a point. you should at least check if it's her. don't ignore family."

You don't know my family.

[RING-RING]

"Fine. But only because the sound is annoying the hell out of me."

I retrieve the phone from my pocket and frown...Unknown caller.

"Your cousin is calling me again."

[RING-RING]

This confuses Flowey but has Blooky dropping his computer's mouse with wide eyes.

"h-he is? h-how do y-you...?"

"He's the only other person that knows my phone number and shows up as Unknown."

He floats over to me.

[RING-RING]

"are y-you...are you going to answer it?"

I stare at him.

"Do you want me to answer it?"

[RING-RING]

So many emotions cross his face.

"do it."

"Are you sure?"

"just don't mention me. I want to hear him. hear how much better he is since he's broke his promise."

I sit up and answer the call.

"Hello. You have reached an unknown number. Please leave a message after the beep. *fake beep*"

"VERY FUNNY, DARLING. AND QUITE TALENTED TOO. IT WAS VERY CONVINCING."

"To what do I owe this random call, Mettaton?"

"You're on the phone with Mettaton?!"

Flowey blurts out and the two of us glare to keep him quiet.

"OH, NOW WHO WAS THAT? AN ADORING FAN? OR ARE YOU SEEING SOMEONE BEHIND MY BACK?"

"What did I say about being weird. That's my brother."

"*GAPS* THERE ARE TWO HUMANS IN THE UNDERGROUND?"

"No. You're still stuck with just me."

"SHAME. IF THERE WAS TWO OF YOU, THEN I'D BE ABLE TO KEEP YOU WITH NO STRINGS ATTACHED."

"You're doing it again. That's the kind of stuff that keeps me from wanting to go near Hotland."

"WELL, GOOD NEWS! YOU WON'T HAVE TO COME TO HOTLAND."

This gets to me.

"Why do you say that?"

"IT'S A SURPRISE. SO...WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?"

Warning! Red alert! Danger!

"I'm in Snowdin."

This gets even my companions' attention.

"AH, DARLING, DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TEACH YOU THAT IT'S WRONG TO LIE?"

"I'm not lying."

"BUT I KNOW YOU ARE."

"Oh yeah right. You're just messing with me like everyone else does."

"THEY KNOW YOU'RE NOT IN THEIR HOME. YOUR MOTHER KNOWS AS WELL."

[You felt your sins crawling on your back.]

I sense death in my future, or something very close to it, and my body trembles.

"You're bluffing."

"REMEMBER HOW I TOLD YOU THAT THERE WERE CAMERAS IN THE FOREST? WELL, THEY CAUGHT SUCH SIGHTS AND EVERYONE KNOWS THAT CAMERAS DON'T LIE, DEAR. SHE IS QUITE UPSET. SO MUCH SO THAT SHE'S ACTUALLY LEFT THE RUINS."

The amount of dread welling up inside my gut has me wanting to vomit.

"I CAN'T IMAGINE SHE'S IN A PLEASANT MOOD. ONLY THE RETURN OF HER DEAR CHILD SHALL QUELL THE FLAMES OF RAGE SHE IS CURRENTLY SCORCHING THE LAND WITH. WOULDN'T YOU AGREE?"

I can't make a sound. Speech is lost to me.

"I WILL TAKE YOU TO HER. ALL THIS CAN BE FIXED. I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. I WILL COME STRAIGHT TO YOUR CURRENT LOCATION AND WHISK YOU AWAY."

Problem. It is entirely possible that Mettaton is telling the truth based on the things he has said. How would he know any of that if it were all a lie? However, he still sounds calm as though this isn't a major issue. Which leads me to think that the moment I tell him where I'm at, he'll just scoop me up for himself and be damned anyone else that gets fucked over in the crossfire. This is bad. Very very bad.

"WELL, DARLING? SAY THE WORD AND I'LL BE THERE TO SAVE THE DAY."

I look at my friends, needing guidance like never before. Flowey is all for telling Mettaton if it means we'd get home. Yet Napstablook is against telling as he doesn't trust his cousin anymore. This split doesn't help me in the slightest.

"I...I..."

[Bang-bang-bang-bang]

The door is suddenly bombarded with activity and I drop the phone from being startled.

"*soft* DARLING? YOU OKAY?"

"open this door! i know she's in there!"

It takes my brain a bit to reboot before I remember Sans's voice or that he knew about my coming here.

"Shit."

"I knew it! I knew that Smiley Trashbag would track us down."

"Get in the pack, bro."

Flowey does as asked and reclaim my iPod as Napstablook goes to the door.

"the hell do you want?"

"don't play games with me, ghost. i know she's in there. open the door."

"and why should I do that?"

"because i need her to stop toriel!"

[You felt your sins weighing on your neck.]

He was telling the truth. Toriel is rampaging and so much shit is hitting the proverbial fan.

"Let him in."

Napstablook doesn't need to be told twice and opens the door, causing Sans who was about to ram the door to tumble onto the floor.

"for fuck's sake..."

The understandably grumpy skeleton picks himself up with a rough huff.

"do you have any idea what is happening right now thanks to this little field trip you're taking?"

"I was coming back."

"that ain't the point! you left without telling us."

"So did the two of you, but you don't see me bitching about it."

"we went to work! we have jobs! you know that!"

"And you knew my reason for leaving the Ruins was to come here. Now that this task has been done, I'm going home. I'm sick of being your brother's punching bag anyway."

"*soft* I'M SORRY..."

Oh right...The phone is still on with Mettaton.

"*soft* BUT DID I JUST HEAR THAT SOMEONE IS LAYING THEIR NASTY HANDS ON MY HUMAN?"

Sans takes my phone before I can get it.

"who are you talking to? do they know that you're...? you know."

I palm my face.

"It's Mettaton. He called me again. And you know that he knows what I am."

That's when a look comes to Sans that I'm unsure of. One I've seen around Grillby but still don't know what it is. But he gets that look as he brings the phone to his head.

"the fuck do you want, tin can?"

If only I could hear it. For some reason, Mettaton is rather quiet when not on TV even though his energy is still that of a loud person.

"look, pal, i don't have time for your dumb little shtick. quit calling. she ain't interested."

He hangs up and tosses the phone at me.

"now if you're done misadventuring, we gotta go."

"Yeah yeah, I know."

I come up to Napstablook and hug him.

"It was nice chilling with you, Blooky. But I don't think I'm coming back anytime soon."

"yeah, I figured as much."

"Take care."

"you too."

Sans, fed up with stress, grabs my wrist and drags me out of the house.

"How bad is it?"

"she was headed for snowdin when i left. pap was doing his best to slow her down. the crazy old lady has lost her damn mind."

"Are we taking the boat back?"

"is that how you got here?"

"Yeah."

"you stay away from that thing. and no, we're not using the boat."

"Then how are we...?"

"i know a shortcut. now don't let go."

I am confused when he gets a better grip on my arm. But the sudden surge in magic coming off him has me clinging to him as the world rips away before us. I don't see it for long, as my mind has a lot to take in rather quickly, but it's like a tear in space and time that swirls with dark color. I can only compare it to images of nebulas and even then that can't really do what I see justice. This power he wields is incredible. I have a new sense of respect for Sans now. As the name shortcut implies, this happens in a really short amount of time to almost instantaneously, and the next thing I know is I'm standing with him somewhere in the treeline bordering the town.

"if we're lucky, we should've gotten here before her."

"Dude...Is that really what happens every time you do a shortcut?"

"uh...yeah?"

"That is the most epic thing ever in the history of awesome."

He blushes lightly for a moment before shaking it off.

"be serious for once. we need to go out there and keep tori from..."

Out of nowhere a couple of the trees spontaneously explode into pillars of flame.

"...doing shit like that."

"Holy fucking ass crackers..."

We rush out from the area not currently not burning hellscape only to find something much worse. Toriel has indeed made her way to town. Her path marked by the lack of snow, singed ground, and ash from the bones Papyrus would block her with that she, in turn, would then cremate in her intense fire.

Much of the town seemed to be spared her wrath with the exception of one establishment. A certain bar. Toriel did not know this town as she once did, not it's people or the way things worked. But she did know one name and that bar had it written out in large fancy neon letters...GRILLBY'S. Her child spoke of a man by that name. Claiming him to be decent and allowing her to work there. She thought it was possible to trust in her child's judgment. But now her child is gone. The skeletons had failed her. This Grillby was her only clue. Clearly, this man knew where the human was because he took her. Swaying her child with false kindness and lies. Luring her in like a lamb to slaughter till it was far too late. What other possible explanation could there be? That is why she attacked the bar. That is why she went after the man of flame. That is why she chased him to the cold streets when he ran unable to grab his coat That is why, even now, she was grappling this man and trying to overpower his weakening fire with her own. A task one would think improbable, what with Grillby being made of fire himself and having a much higher LV level than her. But one should never underestimate the power of a Boss Monster, especially when she's gone insane and has nothing left to hold her back.

"Give her back! I know you have her!"

"For the last time, I don't know where she is."

"Lair!"

Her fire bursts with her accusatory shout.

"She is here! You are keeping her from me! Admit your sin!"

"Get a hold of yourself and listen to reason."

"No, you listen! You are all the same! You are all cowards that prey on the innocent! Weak spineless men that resort to damning loved ones at the first signs of problems! Well not anymore!"

Her grip harshens and Grillby finds himself being pushed back, his heels plowing through the ground as she keeps pressing forward.

"I don't want to hurt you, my Queen. But I won't allow this nonsense any longer!"

Tapping into his LV for strength, Grillby begins to heat up and force Toriel back with his fire matching hers. This does not impress the rabid goat mother. In fact, it only indulges her delusion even further.

"This power you possess...It comes from the pain you gave others, is it not? From the lives you took?"

Grillby's spirit falters, flashes of the past where he was pushed to the brink and lost control of his fire come to him. He never wanted to kill anyone. He just wanted to be left alone and live his life. It wasn't his fault they kept attacking him. It is his fault that he couldn't find a better way to end the situation. Seeing the hesitation, Toriel rams her head into his face, smashing his glasses and sending the fire-man into the melting snow. His fire begins to burn softer, the cold dampening his flames and zapping his energy due to needing to burn. This leaves the fire elemental open in a bad way.

"You pathetic whelp..."

Toriel slowly approaches. Witnesses to the scene dare not intervene for fear of being her next victim.

"How long are you going to waste my time? Return my daughter to me and I will spare your life."

Grillby pulls himself up to at least be kneeling, though he isn't looking as hot as he should be.

"I would give her to you if I had her, believe me. But she isn't with me."

He is telling the truth. But to Toriel, all she hears is lies.

"Then you are of no use to me."

She holds out her palm to him and a ball of fire builds up in intensity.

"A fitting end for a miserable creature."

He wants to move. He wants to flee. Yet his body doesn't have the energy for the speed he needs. Sure, he might be able to move out of the way but not completely. He'll still get hit, and mixed with her intent, the damage alone will kill him. With not much else he can do, the defeated barman bows his head and waits for it all to end but not wanting to see it happen. What he does see is a faint glow set under Toriel. Just as the ball reaches its apex for firing, a massive bone raises from the ground and knocks her arm to the side, causing the ball of fiery death to be hurled into the treeline with the bone turning to dust soon after. This gets the angry goat monster's attention and her anger only grows when she turns to see the audacious prick that dared stop her execution. Papyrus stood hunched over and panting, his bones signed but still strong enough to bring him here. He had done his best to stall the mad Queen while Sans left to get the human. But even the great and terrible Papyrus was little more than a fly compared to Toriel. She swatted him down and left him in the snow thinking he'd be smart enough to remain there...she was wrong.

"*WEARY* I DON'T CARE IF YOU ARE THE QUEEN...I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS...SECOND IN COMMAND TO THE KING'S ROYAL GUARD AND OVERSEER OF THIS TERRITORY...I'LL BE DAMNED IF I LET SOME DISGRACED MONARCH RUN WILD WHILE I STILL STAND."

She glares.

"You follow a weak fool. He promises you the lie of freedom, but if he really wanted to free our kind he could have gone through the barrier after getting ONE SOUL and taken six SOULs from the humans, then come back to freed everyone. But he is scared. Scared that he will lose everything once freedom is gained. So he keeps you and everyone else in despair. Because he would rather wait here, meekly hoping another human never comes."

"*WEARY* LIKE YOU'RE ANY DIFFERENT? YOU'RE JUST AS PATHETIC AS YOU CLAIM HIM TO BE."

"What?!"

"*WEARY* YOU WERE NOT JUST OUR QUEEN...YOU WERE HIS WIFE...YOU VOWED TO BE HIS OTHER HALF AND AID HIM IN TIMES OF NEED...INSTEAD, YOU ABANDONED HIM AND THE KINGDOM TO HIDE IN THE RUINS. YOU'RE A COWARD."

That shakes her.

"I am not the one murdering children! He does not have to do that! He is responsible for his choices!"

"SO ARE YOU!"

Regaining some of his strength, Papyrus makes his stand and looks intimidating as hell doing so.

"YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WERE NEEDED THE MOST. WHAT EVEN WAS YOUR PLAN? QUIETLY HIDE AWAY HOPING THINGS WILL GET BETTER WITHOUT YOU? THAT'S NOT HOW THINGS WORK. ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES AND HE'S THE ONE DEALING WITH THE MESS YOU'VE LEFT US ALL IN. YOU CALL HIM WEAK? A COWARD? THAT IS YOUR DOING. YOU MADE HIM WEAK. AND YOU ARE JUST AS COWARDLY TO SHOWER THE BLAME ONTO HIM INSTEAD OF ACKNOWLEDGING THAT ANY OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT TOO!"

"That is enough!"

She shoots out thick streams of fireballs, too thick to dodge through, and forces Papyrus to put up a layered barricade wall of bone. But Toriel's rage fuels her fire and at the current rate of burning, the wall won't protect him for long. Without warning, Toriel is blasted by a beam of energy into a building and her HP slowly drains.

[KARMA coursing through your veins.]

When things settle around Papyrus, Sans appears at his brother's side with his left eye blazing and a Gaster Blaster aimed at the former Queen. His timing being just right as the wall crumbles to ash.

"no one messes with my bro."

Papyrus gives his brother a cocky smirk.

"SHOW OFF."

Sans merely grins.

"jealous?"

"JEALOUS? NAH...MINE ARE BIGGER ANYWAY."

"hey, it's not the size of your blaster that counts but how you use it."

They share a small laugh before returning their attention to the shambling Boss Monster that's recovering.

"So...This is the loyalty of our friendship?"

"family beats out acquaintances.

and nothing in that promise says i can't attack you."

"Then you understand why I am upset. You lost the only family I have."

"first off, yeah, i get it. but fuck you if you think that justifies any of this shit. and second, she ain't lost and never was. she's behind you."

Sans points behind her and she is hesitant to look, though when she does, her eyes widen as she sees the human tending to a weakened Grillby.

"My child...?"

I can't believe she went this far. I knew Toriel was unstable and when triggered could end up doing a lot of harm. But this? This shit is ridiculous. The moment Papyrus had her attention I split from Sans to get to Grillby. Poor soul's fire has gotten so low that his color has darkened and I can barely feel his heat. I hold him close so that he can at least draw from my own warmth. It seems to work for the time being but I need to get him into his home to properly get his core temperature back up.

"*weak* P-Pussycat...Is it really you?"

"Shhh...Don't talk."

Flashes of his dying in the past timeline happen in my eyes and I try to keep for tearing up.

"*weak* Heh...This was not the way I wanted to meet your 'mom'."

"I know. Personally, I was hoping you never would."

He chuckles as I rub his back, trying to make heat with friction, and his head rests along my shoulder. Lost in my care for him, I don't even notice the situation going on with Sans and Toriel.

"*weak* You want to know something funny?"

"What's that?"

"*weak* Right after you left earlier...The uniform I got for you came in."

"Oh? And why is that funny?"

"*weak chuckling* You'll find out when you see it."

I should probably be suspicious of that, but frankly, I'm just glad he's doing better.

"Think you can stand up?"

"*weak* Well, I was enjoying this. But it is best we take this inside. Fucking hate this weather."

I snicker while propping myself into a slight crouch. He takes a moment to adjust to this position and hooks his arm around my neck. Once ready, that's when I push us up onto our feet and try to keep him steady.

"Easy there. Don't tell me you've been drinking on the job?"

"*weak* Maybe. I have been drinking you in for a while now."

"*snort* Oh my god...That was so adorably cheesy. Could you possibly get even cornier than that?"

"*weak* Do you have ninety minutes?"

"Dear lord you both are gross."

I forgot Flowey was in the backpack. This is fucking hilarious.

"Grillby...This is my brother, Flowey."

Grillby blinks a couple of times before shaking his head in a laugh.

"*weak* You weren't kidding about you having an odd family."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry you had to be thrown into this mess."

"My child...?"

Toriel's voice gets my attention and my hold on Grillby tightens on instinct, not that he minds. Sans tends to a hurt but still okay Papyrus and smack dab between us is the clingy goat mother from hell.

"Lynsie...You are okay. Thank goodness. I have been so worried."

Sweetness laces her voice like viscus honey. A complete 180° from the 'I shall kill you all' rage that was just there moments ago. She opens her arms and smiles like the world is made of rainbow candy.

"Come, young one. Let us go home and never return to this awful place again."

I made her a promise. A promise that I'd come home to her. I never break my promises. But right now...I can't make my body go near her. In fact, I can't stand looking at her. She notices my glaring eyes and is confused.

"Lynsie? Why are you looking at me like that?"

She takes a step forward. I step back.

"My child?"

She looks hurt. Not as hurt as Papyrus and the look Sans shoots me tells me to be careful with what I say before they shortcut away.

"What is wrong with you?"

Her eyes widen. Flowey moves around in the bag muttering that I need to shut up.

"My chi-"

"No. Don't hide behind that 'mommy dearest' thing you do. This is serious. You attacked innocent people. And for what? Because of me? You thought I was lost like some snot-nosed kid?"

"*weak whisper* Easy, pussycat. Not too harsh."

Grillby is right to try to warn me. But I can't stop myself.

"I...I have to protect you."

"Stop it! Stop using me and everyone else that came before me as your excuse. I love you, Toriel. You've been a better mom than I could've dreamed of. But you have to stop pretending that this is normal. I'm not your real child. Hell, I'm not even a kid."

Her eyes start to water.

"Do not...Do not say such awful things to me. I am your mother. And you will show me the respect I deserve."

"I can't replace Chara."

"Stop it..."

"I can't replace Asriel."

"Stop it."

"I can't be them no matter how much you want me to."

"Stop it! You are not saying these things! We are a family and you will come home with me right now! We will forget that this ever happened! We will sit in the living room, telling stories, eating butterscotch cheesecake...Because that is normal and we are a family!"

I know this will hurt but some bandaids need to be ripped off by others if the wearer won't do it.

"Damn it, Toriel, they're dead and not coming back!"

That did it. That was the straw that made everything break, for her and for me. The waterworks begin.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts."

"No, you do not! You have no idea how I feel!"

"You wish that there was something you can do, but you can't. You beg and plead and bargain with any god-like being that will listen but nothing happens. And all you can do is wish you could go back in time to fix it so that the bad thing never happens, but you can't. All you have left are memories. Yet as time passes, even those start to leave you. So you stop time from passing for yourself. You build up a world that keeps the memories alive even if they aren't and soon that line blurs to become your reality. But it's not real, Toriel. They aren't coming home. And in forcing yourself to live in the past, you've lost everyone that is still here in the present. You had a family once. You still have the chance to have it again. You still have your husband."

She rubs her eyes while weeping.

"That man...That man is a fool. He does not care about anything or anyone."

"That's not true."

"How would you know?!"

"Because there is more than one way to grieve!"

I'm shaking at this point. So much so that Grillby takes hold of my free hand to make me relax.

"Asgore's a King, right? A man of power. How would it look to his people if the King broke down and cried? To show weakness by displaying emotion? Seeing how things are here it wouldn't surprise me if such a sight would cause a revolt in authority. There would be fighting for the crown. And after suffering such loss, no one would want to risk more bloodshed. Not when they still had a loved one to protect. So maybe...just maybe...He had to appear cold-hearted to save you because you are all he has left."

Where is all this coming from? Why does it feel like I know I'm supposed to be saying this stuff?

"But what do I know? I've never met him. Yet you have. You know him better than anyone. The man you talked about...Is that the same man you fell in love with and married?"

"*sniffling* N-No..."

"You weren't the only one to lose children that day. He's hurting too, Nanny. He just isn't allowed to show it. But I'd bet my soul that he's in as much pain as you are."

She drops to her knees and wails in mourning. I'm not sure where she's at in her progress in moving on, but from the looks of it, she might be starting to accept the reality that she's been denying for so long.

"*weak* Wow, pussycat...That was incredible."

Then why do I feel so bad? My heart hurts and I don't like it. I need a mom hug. And she needs to know that I still support her. Carefully, I get me and Grillby walking toward the bar. There, I'm able to let Greater Dog bring Grillby inside much to his concern. But he knows why I stay outside. I need to fix this. Still crying her eyes out, I come to Toriel's side and sit down.

"You know...This doesn't mean you're going home alone."

She tries to talk while sobbing. It sounds terrible. Like an upset kid that you can just barely understand.

"*crying* You...would...still...come...home...with...me?"

Oh my god, the snot bubbles...Quick! Don't focus on that!

"I know what I said hurt. And you probably think that I'm mad or that I hate you. But I only said what I said because I care and it needed to be said. I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you like how you've helped me. It's not healthy to live in the past like this. It probably feels like, if you move forward, then you're giving up on their memory and forgetting them. But that's not true or how it has to happen. You can still live your life and keep them with you."

She begins to settle down yet her face is still a disaster zone of grossness.

"*ambivalent* It...It does not?"

I give her back a few supportive pats before stroking her fur softly.

"No. As long as you love them and keep them in your heart, then they are never truly gone. Heh...Probably helps a little bit that Chara haunts me and Asriel..."

The words die on my tongue. It's not my place to say my brother business. I don't even think he's ready to tell me about even when I said his name. But that's on him. It's not easy to come back from the dead.

"He's likely watching over you and wanting you to be happy."

I faintly hear muffled sniffling coming from the backpack. One day, he might let her know his secret. But not now. Toriel smiles weakly, her tears steadily slowing down and her emotions coming under control.

"Thank you, my chi...*pause* Lynsie."

It wouldn't kill me to make this compromise.

"You can still call me your child if it helps you feel better...Mom."

Hear that makes her heart swell with joy and she pulls me into her embrace...while rubbing her gross all up in my hair!

"Oh, bless you, my child! You are truly an angel!"

And in an instant, I feel a chill run through me deeper than the cold I'm currently in.

"My child? Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Just feeling cold is all."

"Right. My apologies. We should get going before you catch your death."

"Fine, but I need to do two things first."

"And what would they be?"

"Well, for starters..."

I pull from the hug to rip part of my sleeve off. This confuses her till I wipe my head and then her face. It makes her giggle embarrassingly.

"*giggles* I am so sorry, my child."

"Nah, it's fine. Stuff happens. Speaking of stuff...*pause* Toriel..."

"Yes?"

This is going to be even harder to say then the stuff I already did.

"I know this isn't my place to bring it up and it might take a long time before you feel comfortable enough to do so...But it would probably be helpful if you talked with Asgore."

Her face becomes serious yet not upset.

"What else do you need to do, my child?"

She changes the subject and this doesn't surprise me. She has issues and Agore is one of them. It will take a lot of help to get her to willingly be able to deal with him again. So I move on and stand up.

"I'm gonna go see how Grillby is doing. I won't feel right till I know he's fine."

She pouts but stands up beside me.

"I shall join you. I am ashamed of behavior and must apologize."

"Probably might smooth things over a bit better if you order something. Good food can make enemies into friends and Grillby makes the best in town...mostly because he's the only one serving food, but I still stand by my praising."

She laughs at my silliness, having missed it since I've been gone and how it shows innocence in a harsh world. I take her hand and lead her inside the bar. Once we enter the mood in the room changes instantaneously to fright. Patrons move far away from her. Grillby himself, recovering in a booth and looking healthier already, becomes panicked yet can't get away in time for me to not stop his escape.

"Please...Everyone...Calm down. No one is going to hurt you. Toriel has something she'd like to say."

Embarrassed and ashamed, Toriel hangs her head low.

"I hope you all can forgive me. The things I said...My actions...I had no right to behave as such. It was wrong and I am sorry. Especially to you, sir."

Grillby flinches.

"I was unjustly cruel to you when you have been more than kind to my daughter. I can not begin to think of ways to atone for this wronging. But whatever punishment you see fit, I will accept it without hesitation."

This got more of them to relax and even Grillby appears to take this truce of sorts. Still, I can sense his nervousness and I doubt that's going away any time soon.

"I can't really think of anything."

"Are you sure? Is there really nothing I can do for you that would make amends between us?"

Wow and I thought Papyrus was bad when it came to accidentally suggestive speech. Ah, who am I kidding, Papyrus is the king at that and no one else comes close.

"Really, there's nothing I want..."

He then looks at me and smiles.

"Except for your daughter's company and your permission to date her."

Awww...That's actually really sweet. ...Wait what?! Toriel's face holds similar surprise to Grillby's request, as do the bar patrons.

"Are you asking to court my daughter?"

Putting on his smooth charm, Grillby works the magic that only he can.

"I think it's only right that I ask and inform you of my interest. She's a very special lady that I've grown attached to. Be quite the shame to lose her over this. That, and she is my only employee."

Toriel likes this gentleman's respectfulness. I on the other hand not so much.

"I take it my opinion means squat now. Next thing I hear better not be the trading price of me for a cow, a pig, and two sheep."

"Pussycat, that's not what this is about and you know that."

The pet name confuses Toriel.

"Pussycat?"

I fold my arms.

"It's the name he teases me with."

"You know you love it. It suits you so well."

I try to look pissed but the blush isn't helping nor is him pinching my cheek like you do to babies.

"See? Adorable and feisty. Just like a pussycat."

I stick my tongue out and Toriel is swayed by our interactions. Seeing a familiarity in it all.

"Very well. I will allow this."

That's really surprising. Maybe she is making progress.

"But I will say this...If you hurt my child in any way...I know where to find you."

And there goes that progress. Grillby seems to understand the threat of a parent and rolls with it.

"Well, now that we've gotten that taken care of. Can I interest you girls in something before you go? A drink? Something to eat maybe?"

Toriel rubs her hands uncomfortably. Aside from causing a lot of fear in these people that are now eyeing her, she is also not used to being around more than one person and her awkward levels are beginning to show. I think I can spare her this. I mean, I'm embarrassed to hell too and want this done.

"I think a to go bag might be best, Grillz. Like a sampler of sorts, if that can be done?"

"Not a problem. But I will need some help. Heh...I can't see a thing right now. So if you could aid me for a bit, pussycat?"

Wait...can't see? But then what about...oh! I get it now. I slip the backpack off and hand it to Toriel.

"Sure thing, boss. Let's get cooking."

Grillby gets out of the booth and takes my arm.

"Mind waiting a moment, Nanny? This shouldn't take long."

She looks so uncomfortable but nods.

"I will wait here. But please...do hurry."

I nod and guide Grillby to the door leading into the rest of the building. Once that door closes behind us he starts to chuckle and I smirk.

"You sneak fire devil. You can see just fine, can't you?"

He smirks.

"What gave it away?"

"You took them off to kick that douche cat's ass. So either you wear them for aesthetic reasons or you need them for something else."

He runs a hand through his flaming hair coolly.

"I am partly nearsighted. The farther something is the more it looks like a blob. But I also can't help that I do look good in glasses."

"Yeah, you do."

I smack my face in realization and he grins.

"Damn it brain. Inside thoughts stay inside."

"God, you're adorable."

"And you're a dork."

"But you love this dork."

"Love is a strong word. Though I really, really, really do like you."

He smiles and moves my bandanna a bit.

"Did she notice this yet?"

Oh right, the hickey. I forgot about that.

"Dear lord, I hope not."

"Hmmm...Then I probably shouldn't make it bigger."

"Make it bigger?"

"Well, if you insist."

He takes advantage of my naïveté and clamps his mouth over that mark, forcing me to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I think he gets a kick out of doing things like this. Crazy Toriel is just outside of the room and he's doing something that he knows makes it really hard for me to stay quiet. His hands on my waist don't help either and my held back whimpering is getting louder. When he does cease this steamy moment, the biggest damn smirk smears his cocky face and I am a wreck clinging to him like I'd fall if I let go.

"Mmmm...Not bad, pussycat. Though next time, I want to hear every little sound you make~."

His voice smolders in my ear and the shudder than leaves me only pleases him.

"Damn you and your hotness."

He lets me go of my flustered self with a chuckle.

"Come along, pussycat. We can't leave your mother waiting. She might kill someone if we do."

"Yeah...No one wants that."

I mosey on down to the kitchen while he grabs his spare pair of glasses before joining me. There we pull things out and start cooking. Grillby doing the actual cooking whereas I just do prep work.

"I forgot to ask this...But how much will I owe you for this? I spent the last of my gold in Waterfall."

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I owe you this at least. What with all the crap I've gotten you into. What's the price on my tab?"

"For this? About 280G. But don't worry about it. I can take it out of your paycheck."

"Fair enough, boss-man. Though...I know this will sound odd. But can some of that pay go to Sans's tab?"

This makes him pause.

"Can I ask why?"

"I promised to help him out a little. As thanks for...well...putting up with me."

"...You're a good girl, Lynsie."

"I try. Lord knows I try."

He looks at me with concern but says nothing. I can feel the start of an emotional flux coming on so I try to focus on the mindlessness of cutting ingredients and separating things to go with each thing they'll be paired with. My hope is the numbness will blank my mind, keeping me from becoming a mess that is seen in chick flicks. This is my hope. Because the day doesn't need any more drama than it had already.

[Meanwhile: Skeleton household]

Papyrus sits on the edge of the couch, his Battle Body armor off and washing the scorch marks off his sore bones with a moist cloth. Sans, for his part, tended to his brother by applying healing ointment and ice packs where it was needed as he's not very adept at healing magic. Lucky for the both of them that Toriel carried no intent when it came to attacking Papyrus, up till that last part at least, and that the skeleton has fairly high Defense. But still, the old goat had ended up wounding something important of his other than his body...she wounded his pride. And that can't be healed so easily.

"how ya feeling now?"

"LIKE A HOUSE GOT DROPPED ON ME."

"i told you tori was tough. it's the perk of being a boss monster. even with low LV, she can still hit hard as hell."

"THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE. OLD BITCH BESMIRCHED MY REPUTATION. THIS IS NOT GOOD."

Typical ego driven Papyrus.

"please, like it matters what any of these fuckwads think. you were the brave one that stood ground against the raging queen. all those other assholes hide like bitches. you're the big shot here. no one can talk shit about you after this."

And typical Sans playing up his brother to make him feel better. At least this time it's real.

"AS TRUE AS THAT IS, THERE IS NO PROOF THAT THEY WON'T WHISPER SHIT WHEN THEY THINK NO ONE IS WATCHING. ALL IT TAKES IS ONE PRICK TO SAY SOMETHING TO SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF TOWN AND IT'S OVER. UNDYNE WILL THINK I'M LOOSING MY EDGE."

"or...be impressed that you tussled with the queen and lived."

"WE NEED TO COVER THIS INCIDENT UP, SANS. WE NEED TO PREVENT WORD FROM GETTING OUT."

"i think you might be overreacting just a bit. but whatever."

Papyrus glares, batting Sans away as he stood up in annoyance.

"CONSIDERING YOU ARE THE ONE THAT NORMALLY THINKS MORE AHEAD, I'M SURPRISED YOU DON'T SEE THE DANGER IN ALL THIS."

"oh, do tell?"

"IF UNDYNE COMES HERE, SOMEONE WILL TELL HER THAT WE HAVE A HUMAN. AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, THE HUMAN ISN'T HERE. NOT ONLY THAT, BUT SHE WILL QUESTION WHY WE FAILED TO HAND OVER THE HUMAN THE MOMENT WE GAINED POSSESSION OF IT. WE WILL BE FOUND GUILTY OF TREASON AND KILLED. IS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

Sans took such revelation rather calmly.

"is that all? i thought you were going to say something i didn't already know."

Papyrus growls, tossing the cloth onto Sans's face.

"OKAY, ASSHOLE, IF YOU ALREADY KNOW THAN WHAT BRIGHT IDEA HAVE YOU COME UP WITH TO FIX THIS?!"

Sans peels the wet cloth off his face.

"simple. undyne is a moron. so we lie."

Papyrus is not impressed.

"...YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS."

Sans makes himself cozy on the couch and lounges.

"think about it. she's so stuck in her human-hating ways that she'll believe anything about them if it's negative. hell, she actually thinks that weird shit alphys shows her is real. i mean, have you ever seen our human do anything like what's done in anime?"

Sans makes a good point there. Undyne isn't the smartest fish in the sea.

"*SIGH* NO. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE CAN JUST TELL HER ANYTHING. IT HAS TO BE CONVINCING."

"you really think i haven't thought about this? she already thinks humans can crazy shit like fly and have mind controlling powers. if she ever comes asking about the human, we just tell her that the human used some strange ability on us and we blacked out. when we woke up, the human was gone and we had no memory of the events that happened over the days it had us under its spell."

"THAT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD. ...BUT IT'S JUST STUPID ENOUGH THAT IT MIGHT WORK."

"see? you should have more faith in me."

"STILL...WE SHOULD HAVE A BACKUP PLAN IN CASE THE LIE FAILS."

"another easy one. we just get the human back."

Sans was starting to get too cocky for Papyrus's liking.

"AND HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE WE DO THAT? I HIGHLY DOUBT TORIEL IS GOING TO LET THE HUMAN OUT OF HER SIGHT AGAIN."

"you forget one detail that makes this plan guaranteed to work."

"AND THAT IS...?"

Sans grins wickedly.

"she doesn't tend to listen when told not to do something. all it takes is the right bait to lure her out. then...wham! we capture the human."

Papyrus had to admit, this scheme was quite possibly the most thought out luck based idea he ever heard.

"JUST WHEN I THINK YOU'RE GOING SOFT, YOU GO AND SURPRISE ME. WELL DONE."

That caught Sans off guard. Papyrus actually complimented him? This must mean hell froze over.

"wow...um...thanks, bro."

Something comes to Papyrus's thoughts.

"HOLD ON..."

"what?"

"DOESN'T THIS GO AGAINST YOUR PROMISE TO THE QUEEN? IF SHE WAS THIS MAD THINKING WE LOST THE HUMAN, I CAN'T IMAGINE THE LEVELS HATE THEY WILL COME IF WE ACTUALLY TURNED THE HUMAN OVER TO THE KING."

"*scoff* who said anything about turning the human over to the king?"

This was confusing.

"THEN...WHAT?"

Sans strums his fingertips on the couch cushion.

"pap...that human ain't normal. she can't end up in the king's grasp."

This got Papyrus's attention.

"YOU'VE BEEN HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME, HAVEN'T YOU?"

Sans doesn't reply and stops tapping his fingers.

"I KNOW YOU'RE HIDING SOMETHING, SANS. AND WHATEVER IT IS, IT'S THE REASON YOU ARE THAT GIRL'S 'SECRET BUDDY'."

Sans sighs.

"if i told you, you wouldn't believe me."

Papyrus folds his arms.

"TRY ME."

Sans looks at his brother and then the floor. Thinking this over for a moment. He knew this day would come. The day he'd tell Papyrus about the weird things he's seen Lynsie do and of the Black Soul. There were still doubts his brother would think any of it was true. But he hated having to lie about it more than he thought. So Sans sat up and patted the seat beside him.

"you'll want to sit for this. this is going to take a while."

Suspicious of what or how this conversation will go, Papyrus sits beside Sans and readies for this talk.

[Meanwhile: Snowdin Forest]

Toriel, Flowey, and I are at last heading back to the Ruins with a large carryout bag that is driving me nuts with how good it smells. At least I have a large soda to tide me over till we get home. Cooking with Grillby during a magic flux was both good and bad. The good part was Grillby helping to settle me down when my emotions began to overwhelm. The bad part was Grillby's form of 'help' was to convert the negative emotions into positive ones by having 'fun' with me. While his 'fun' is enjoyable, hot as fuck too, I found it uncomfortable due to Toriel being around and I'd rather not have more evidence than the hickey for her to find. Lucky for us all, she hasn't noticed the hickey thanks to tying the bandanna higher and tighter, no way this curtain is falling away. Actually, now that I think about it, she hasn't seemed to notice my chipped tooth, either that or she's waiting to ambush me about it later. Until then, I have time to think of a lie. No point having her mad at the skele-bros even more so.

"I am glad you both are coming home. I am not used to the quiet as I once was."

"The feeling is mutual."

"And those boys...You do not suppose that they are upset with me. Right?"

"Sans? Probably not. Papyrus? That's a high maybe."

"Should we have gone to apologize?"

"Let them relax a bit. Remember how the people got all jumpy seeing you at the bar? Showing up to their house, even with good intentions, could still end up going bad."

"Hmmm...I suppose you are right."

"You'll have your chance to say sorry. He'll come knocking as he often does. Not sure about Papyrus. But I think it's better not to try with him so soon."

Toriel looks at the bag in her paw-like hands. And again, why are they paws and hot hooves? Why am I fixated on that?

"Ooof!"

I get distracted by my strange monster hand thoughts and trip over a snow poff...But I saved the soda!

"Child? Are you alright?"

"*muffled* Yeah..."

I pick myself up.

"I'm just embarrassed is all."

"Oh, that good. I was worried you...Child?"

"Huh?"

"What happened to your tooth?"

Well...shit. Guess it's time to see how well I can improvise.

"My tooth?"

I feel around for the chipped space and I gasp.

"Holy crap!"

I frantically look around in the snow for something I know isn't there.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Lynsie, calm down. We shall fix it."

"Can this be healed with magic?"

She pouts.

"No, I am afraid not. At most, magic can be used to install the replacement and mold it into the tooth that was lost. But to regrow a damaged or missing part of the body is even beyond the ways of magic."

So there are limits? Damn it. I guess that's a good thing. No one can go nuts thinking they're god.

"So you can put in a cap?"

"I will have to practice. But I should be able to do so."

"...You are so cool, Nanny."

She blushes and I resume drinking as we continue on our way homeward bound.

[Meanwhile: Hotland's Laboratory]

Alphys remained at the monitors the entire day in hopes of catching some of the ongoing plots she was lucky enough to indulge in. While she received no footage from the lone camera in Waterfall, apart from the passing of Mettaton in his search for the human, she did get plenty of sweet action from the cameras in Snowdin's forest. The storming out of the former Queen and the defensive battle Papyrus had to put up was thrilling. It was a shame she couldn't get any clear footage when things happened in town. From what sound she did pick up, the incident was a spectral worthy of recording. Mettaton had returned in disappointment some time into all this. Lamenting how he missed his chance to be a real star and get the girl, or some other dumb line he made up. And now he's just a noisy pain in the ass.

"*DRAMATIC SOBS* HOW COULD I NOT FIND HER? WITH ALL THE GADGETS IN THIS BODY I COULDN'T TRACE A SIMPLE CELLPHONE SIGNAL? A POX ON THIS FEEBLE TECH!"

"Hey! Don't you fucking talk down to my work. Without that feeble tech, you wouldn't have a body. Do you want me to take it back?"

"N-NO! NO, DEAR. I...UM...I AM MERELY UPSET. NOTHING I SAY SHOULD BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY WHEN LIKE THIS."

Alphys sneers and returns to her viewing.

"I don't know why you're even being a bitch right now. It's not like you can't get the human."

This gets the melodramatic robot's attention.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? SANS FOUND HER. SHE'S BACK UNDER THE SKELETON'S WATCH...RIGHT?"

The lizard in the lab coat snickers to herself.

"Oh, you sad bucket of bolts and ectoplasm. Fetch me a bag of chips and I shall show you the meaning of hope."

It took a moment for that to register in his processors and he kicked his servos into high gear, moving faster then the wicked woman had seen in a long time. Hell, he nearly slams the bag into her face when he skids to her side.

"HERE! NOW SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME! SHOW ME!"

"Oh my god! Here! Now shut the fuck up!"

She pushes a button or two and the screens pull up the video feed of right outside the Ruins. His sensors pick up the visual of the Queen and the human as they reenter the Ruins.

"Now you know where she is. The question now...What do you plan to do next?"

Mettaton, in an extremely rare moment, is silent.

"Really? Nothing? No over the top act or some line about being the hero or some other bullshit?"

Mettaton merely rolls away.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He pauses. Turning to her with an eerie innocence, like calm waters hiding a hungry shark.

"WHERE? TO THE DRAWING BOARD, DEAR ALPHYS. I HAVE A NEW SCRIPT TO PREPARE. A CAST TO ASSEMBLE. AND NO TIME TO LOSE."

He continues his exit by rolling backwards ominously.

"THIS IS MERELY THE INTERMISSION. A TO BE CONTINUED IF YOU WILL. THE SHOW MUST GO ON, ALPHYS. AND IT WILL GO ON. HA...HA...AHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Well, that's not creepy at all. What sort of hell did Alphys just unleash? Oh well, at least it's entertaining.

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #napstablook #mettaton #frisk #chara #flowey #Asriel #asgore #toriel #undyne #alphys

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