#// -clenches fist- there is never too many bunny appreciation

[e-dubbc11]

Crazy in Love Pt. 2

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some smexy time (18+ please, no minors or I’m telling) couple of swear words, soooooo many fluffy bunnies and unicorns, like it’s nauseating how fluffy it is. A couple tears, but happy ones

Word Count: 2.6k-ish

Summary: Continued from part one, Valentines Day into the next morning, Billy has more gifts for you. The man is incredibly thoughtful.

A/N: So this is continued from part one. You can read part one HERE. I really had no intention of writing a second part to this but I realized Billy never gave her the gift he said he had for her and I had an idea and thought I would share it, I hope you like it.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The early morning sunlight kissed your face as Billy gently kissed your bare shoulder. His lips traveled from your shoulder, across the top of your back to your neck.

His beard tickled the soft skin of your arm and you hummed as a little smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. These kisses were quite different from the hungry, desperate kisses from last night.

His strong hands moved under the crisp white sheet onto your thigh, while his fingers traced a line from the back of your knee up to your bare ass cheek, and his arm snaked around your waist.

Billy pulled you flush against his chest. With his lips pressed firmly against your shoulder, you could feel the smile spread across his face. “Good morning, my love. Sleep well?”

You turned around to face him, your gaze slipped from his onyx like eyes to his mouth as you moved forward to kiss him. “Mmmm hmmm.” You pulled away to look into his eyes once again. “I did, handsome.”

He inched forward to kiss your forehead as you closed your eyes, remembering the affairs from last night. The feeling still fresh in your mind, that sensation of pleasure Billy gave you over and over again, as if you were still coming down from the orgasms Billy pulled from you.

You could still feel the pressure of his hands against your wrists pinning you firmly to the mattress, his cock buried so deep inside, it was almost too much for you. Your legs spread so wide, your knees were touching the bed.

The sinful cries of passion fled from your lips and into his ears, he loved to hear you call out his name over and over again, it turned him on more. Those breathy sounds of pleasure put a wicked smile on his face as he drove into you harder and faster, your slick coating his cock with each thrust.

“You like that, don’t you princess.” His voice at a low growl. “So wet for me, you’re dripping baby.”

You purred into his ear. “Yes…yes, Billy.”

With your ankles wrapped around Billy’s lower back, you pulled him deeper inside. Buried to the hilt, his rapid strokes were hitting that sweet spot that made your vision go white. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip and your neck, sprinkling goosebumps across your skin.

“That’s it, baby. Taking my whole cock like a good girl.” He gnashed his teeth and left love bites at the base of your neck and the top of your shoulder. As you grabbed a fist full of his ebony colored hair, a sharp inhale leaked from your mouth.

His praise made you clench down hard onto him and triggered you to arch your back off the bed as you came closer and closer to your climax. His thrusts became faster, longer and more uneven. Billy was getting closer to chasing his own release.

“Billy!” You cried out, scraping your nails across his back, and hitting your peak.

“That’s my good girl, cum for me baby. Ah fuck!” He hissed into your shoulder as he spilled into you, shuddering and finally collapsing on top of you.

With both of you breathing heavily, he moved the hair away from your eyes, and lovingly pressed his lips to yours. “Lemme see those nails, I think you might have drawn blood when you scratched me.” He said jokingly. “What do ya say, beautiful? Did I earn my chocolate cake?”

You started to laugh a little as his soft lips hungrily kissed you, his tongue danced with yours as you tried to stop yourself from laughing. Pressing a hand to your forehead, you were finally able to catch your breath, as he planted himself next to you. “Mmmm…you sure did, my love. Those scratches on your back prove it.” You gave him a wink. “I’ll race ya for it.”

Pushing him away, you caught him off guard a little as you tried to get to the fridge faster than he could. But try getting in between Billy Russo and his sweets and you’ll pay a price.

You were fast but not fast enough and it didn’t take much for Billy to overpower you, pushing you back down onto the bed, laughing maniacally while he did it.

He even managed to grab his boxer briefs on his way out of the bedroom. As you pulled his dress shirt around your naked body, you called out after him in between your bursts of laughter.

“Billy Russo, don’t you dare start eating that cake without me!!”

Watching him take the cake out of the fridge, his childlike smile made your heart swell. And as the two of you sat at the kitchen table enjoying your dessert, it was hard not to stare at the man in front of you. He had made your day quite memorable in more good ways than bad.

His dark eyes that almost matched the color of the cake were staring back at you and a warm smile stretched across his handsome face. This Valentine’s Day may not have been perfect but it definitely was not boring.

“What is it, my love?” He asked.

You smiled at him and said “Well, I don’t know about you but I had a great time tonight.” You covered your mouth to try to stop yourself from giggling and having the cake escape your lips.

In between bites of cake, Billy pointed his fork at you. “Oh you did, did you?” He said raising his eyebrows. “You sure I didn’t ruin your night, baby?” He asked in a semi serious tone.

Your smile eased a little because you knew he felt bad for losing his temper, getting thrown in jail and leaving you at the restaurant all alone but there wasn’t anything you could do about it now except be happy that he’s home with you and not spending the night in jail.

“What’s better than sex and chocolate cake, handsome?” You asked rhetorically. It also seemed to make him feel better.

He finished the last bite of cake before telling you. “Remember, I have one more present for you, baby.”

“Billy, I told you. I don’t need another present! And didn’t I tell you to just give it to me tomorrow?” You scolded him a little.

“Well, yeah but one of them–.” He started to say.

You interrupted him. “ONE of them? Billy, you said you had only ONE more present!”

“Ok, well I lied a little, y/n. I love giving you presents. What do ya want from me?” He smirked at you.

You put down your fork and crossed your arms across your chest, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Will you just go sit on the couch please? Please?” He asked you, flashing his perfect smile at you that you just couldn’t say no to or stay mad at.

Getting up from the table, you tugged at the hem of the dress shirt so it covered your bare ass and made your way to the couch like he asked. What was he up to?

Biting down on your thumb, you checked out Billy’s backside as he walked to the bedroom. He emerged from the bedroom with a familiar looking box but not like the ones already in your closet. It was a new one with a black ribbon tied around it and said Chanel across the top.

“Billy Russo, what did you do?” He knew Chanel was your favorite.

He set the box in your lap. “Go ahead, beautiful. Open it.” Billy insisted. He always showed so much excitement when he gave you gifts.

Untying the ribbon, you looked up at him through your long lashes and smiled. Warmth spread across your chest, you were very eager to see what he got for you.

Inside the box, a card sat resting on top of the dust bag. You read it aloud.

Happy Valentine’s Day, sweet girl. You are always the brightest star in my sky. Love you always, Billy

“Baby…” You started to say before a tear ran down your cheek. “I love you too. Just this note is beautiful.”

“I know it’s kinda cheesy…” He said, blushing a little. “Finish opening your present.”

You pulled the dust bag out of the box and opened it. Inside was the patent calfskin backpack he caught you looking at a few months ago.

“Oh Billy…It’s beautiful, baby! Thank you!” You exclaimed.

“Do you like it?” Billy asked.

“I love it, Billy. You really shouldn’t have done this but I love it.” You said as another tear trickled down your face. “What’s this?” There was another gift at the bottom of the box.

He stopped you from opening it. “Wait! Before you open that my love, I need your help with something.”

He stood up, gently took you by the hand, and walked you over to your telescope that is always set up in front of the glass balcony door.

At the beginning of your relationship, you mentioned to Billy that you loved astronomy. Getting lost and staring at the stars was one of your favorite things to do ever since you were a little girl.

On warm summer nights, you would just lay in the grass, listening to the crickets and the frogs serenade you, gazing up at the night sky, hoping to see a shooting star.

You would impress your parents by pointing out the different constellations that were visible and even point out planets that were visible to the naked eye.

But this was the first time in your life that you had an actual telescope to look at the stars. It was another gift from Billy. You couldn’t believe he had bought something so extravagant for you so early on in your relationship, you almost didn’t want to accept it, but it was probably the one of the gifts from him you treasured the most.

He opened up an app on his phone called Night Sky. “Can you find this star for me, baby?” He asked, pointing to a specific star on his phone.

Finding stars was so much fun for you, it was exciting. “Ok, but lemme just put on some pants, it’s cold outside, my love. I’ll be right back!” You said excitedly.

Billy slipped on some sweat pants and moved the telescope outside while you were gone. The cool winter air hit your face as you stepped out onto the balcony, you grabbed a sweatshirt on your way out of the bedroom for Billy as he still didn’t have a shirt on.

He extended his arm to show you the star he wanted you to find. You kept glancing from the telescope to the phone, from the phone back to the telescope and after a few minutes of searching, you found the star that Billy wanted you to find.

“Ok, handsome. I found your star–take a look.” You said.

Billy smiled at you and looked through the telescope. “Actually baby, you found YOUR star.”

Caught off guard, you questioned him. “What?”

“It’s your star, my love.” He repeated again and handed you the other present from the bottom of the Chanel box.

After tearing the paper open, you took a look at what was inside. It was a framed Certificate of Star Registration and the name of the star was…”Sweet Girl.”

Covering your mouth with your hand, you were rendered speechless and a chill ran down your back. “Billy…I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had–” Trying to find the right words had never been more difficult, your mouth was dry and the words were just getting stuck in the back of your throat. It was such a beautiful gift and so thoughtful.

“And I thought the telescope was the most thoughtful gift you could have ever given me.” You finally choked out, clutching the frame to your chest. “This is–just–I don’t know…thank you, Billy. Thank you so much.” Stumbling over your words, more tears trickled down your cheeks as he pulled you close to him.

Billy’s endless brown eyes were gazing into yours like he was committing the way you looked at that moment to memory. The way you bit down on your bottom lip and looked up at him through your long dark lashes, and the way you shied away from him because you felt like you didn’t deserve all of this.

The idea that someone could love him as much as you did was an idea that he was still getting used to but the way you looked at him, he felt it, he had finally welcomed it…pure love.

“Look at me, baby.” He placed his forefinger and thumb on your chin to turn your face to look at his. “I wanna give you the world, so I figured I would start with a piece of it.” His eyes were glassy, his voice hitched as he uttered those words to you, and the cold skin on his fingers gently touched your face to brush the warm tears away. “I love you with all my heart.”

Billy’s hands cupped your face, slowly he leaned down to kiss you, your body quickly warmed up as his lips softly touched yours, and the bristles of his beard scratched your soft cheeks as your lips parted allowing his tongue to tangle with yours.

He needed to know you felt the same way so you pulled away slightly. “I love you too, Billy. And I already have the world, my love. I have you.” You said and you kissed him again.

It was his turn to be at a loss for words. As he carried you off to bed, your words played over and over again in his head like his favorite song on repeat. Billy had waited so long to hear words like those, he had waited his entire life to be loved like the way you love him.

After the highlights of your Valentine’s Day finished playing in your head, suddenly it was back to the morning after, with the sunlight dancing across Billy’s forehead and you gazing into his gorgeous brown eyes.

Yes, you absolutely loved the gifts he gave you and he loved doing it, but you recognized that it’s never been about what he could buy you or give you. It was about having someone ask how your day was, or bringing you a glass of wine or a pint of your favorite ice cream when you’ve had a rough day.

The gentle scratches you devoted to his scalp when he would relay his day for you was one of his favorite acts of the love language you shared, and when he would kiss your hands was a favorite of yours.

Your relationship was give and take, it wasn’t perfect but it didn’t have to be. It was special because of what the two of you did for each other, the way you complimented one another, and the laughs you shared.

Billy cherished simple things like these type of mornings, where neither of you had to get up for work, he could just kiss you and hold you close without a care in the world. He loved nights at home with you, enjoying dinner or a glass of his favorite bourbon.

He enjoyed being dragged out onto the balcony on a clear night for you to point out the different stars in the sky because of the smile it brought to your face, the excitement he heard in your voice.

He appreciated that you shared those things with him, he loved that he made you happy, which is all he had ever wanted. YOU are everything he has ever wanted, his bright star, his…”Sweet Girl.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ariesbutalibra

[weiwuxiian]

he's so cute with bunny ears, this isn't fair

@winterimbued​

The bunnies hate him, so in the end he became ONE OF THEM----.

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[thefanficmonster]

Begone

Streamer Gang & Asexual Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Acephobia, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently come out as asexual, Y/N faces some less than pleasant or appropriate responses in their chat during their stream with the gang. Luckily, they’re not alone in battling the haters this time.

Requested by the lovely Anon who told acephobes to begone, yeah you know who you are hehe. Thank you so much for the request darling! Let’s show these acehobes who they’re messing with! Love, Vy ❤

Boy is this nerve-wrecking or what? Sure, I maybe woke up with a ton of confidence, I listened to motivational and uplifting talks and listened to mood boosting music. I had a healthy breakfast and a cup of coffee. Damn it, I went on a run, all in an attempt to convince myself that dealing with the online world again is but a piece of cake for a badass like me. Well, low and behold, that feeling didn’t last very long. Here I am, chewing my nails off at the though of hopping in the Discord call and Among Us lobby with my friends and starting my stream. It’s not like I’m not expecting my friends and fans to support me - of course I am! I know they’re gonna give me a ton of love and appreciation and support and uplift me no matter what. But then again, there’s still those people who believe me and other people like me to be invalid and broken and whatnot.

Those are the ones I wanna avoid. 

It’s not like their words mean much to me but I simply don’t wanna see em, you know? It’s not only about me - it’s least about me actually - it’s more about all those wonderful people they are insulting when they say shit like that about asexuals and all the people on the ace spectrum. I can’t help but flare up and get angry on the behalf of all my ace friends and even people I’ve never met.

It’s also my first time being directly thrown into the fire instead of getting caught in the crossfire seeing as how I came out to my fandom via a tweet and an Instagram post a week ago, telling my identity’s truth: finally bringing my asexuality to the surface to shine its brightest so I can be be my best and reach for my full potential.

But damn am I afraid to see how everyone took it. 

My friends were quick to jump in and take me offline before I start refreshing my own posts to see the comments under them. Lord knows that without them I would’ve driven myself insane, I’ll forever be grateful for what they did and the lengths they went to to keep me offline and whatnot. One word to give you an idea of how invested they were in this: origami. All of us might as well have been born with two left hands and yet we still tried doing origami. Freaking origami.

Damn do I love my friends.

But now I don’t have sheets of paper and my friends to distract me. I have a fanbase to entertain and another friend group I haven’t talked to in a while. I don’t wanna get any predictions in already so I don’t jinx myself, so I’m just gonna say it’s gonna be...interesting regardless of what happens.

Then again, when is it not interesting when the streamer gang’s involved.

Deep breaths, Y/N. You got this

Listening to that encouraging little voice inside my head, I finally equip my headphones and in one fluid motion turn my camera on, officially starting my stream and unmuting my mic as I hop in the call with everyone.

“Hi guys! Guess who’s returned!“ I exclaim cheerfully, desperate to hide the nervousness of my voice.

“You really missed your opportunity to say ‘guess who’s back...back again’ didn’t you?“ Charlie is the one who greets me first, sounding rather disappointed in me in his usual jokester manner. It’s nice to hear, it makes me feel like nothing’s changed in the week I’ve been gone. Like I’m still the same person to these people. I really am the same, I just now am a lot better version of myself. Almost as though I’ve reached my final form. It feels empowering really. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Charlie laughs again, “Congrats, by the way. You keep proving you can get cooler and cooler.“

“Careful there Charlie, I can only handle so large of an ego.“ I joke back, rolling my eyes playfully as a wide grin spreads across my face, “No, but seriously, thank you so much, man. It means the world to me that you support me.“

“Um, how could we NOT?“ That’s very clearly Rae, “Hun, you are so brave and amazing and wonderful, how could we ever NOT support you?“

“Yeah, we’ll always support you no matter what, Y/N. We’ll always be your friends, through thick, thin and beyond.“ Poki too interferes, her words only making my smile wider.

“Alright, alright, y’all are gonna make me cry and I haven’t even read my chat yet, hold on.“ I say, fanning my face to dry the tears I hope the webcam isn’t spotting, “Darn, you guys are the best. Sorry, give me a sec to gather my composure, I’ll be right back.“

I quickly mute my in-game mic as I turn to my chat where I see the same amount of love and support in the form of comments and emojis flooding in from my viewers. A warm feeling spreads throughout my chest, making me feel the most comfortable with myself I’ve ever felt. The most loved I’ve ever felt. The most seen and understood. To finally be you feels like you are finally really living in this world, not like you’ve been already living in it for God knows how long. It makes me so freaking happy and fulfilled to finally be living as me, as the real me.

Unfortunately, in life, nothing can be 100% pure and good. There’s always at least 1% there threatening to ruin all your happiness you worked so hard to build or obtain. It may be one in a hundred, but fuck it’s powerful and effective.

And in my case it comes in the form of two comments that stick out to my eyes. Acephobic comments saying my identity’s fake, claiming I’m faking it, saying us acephobes are immature creatures who refuse to grow up, or attention whores. Or just saying we’re delusional and in denial, confused about who we are.

I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my jaw and fists but when I do, I slowly relax my muscles and crack my knuckles before addressing the two people who spat out that nonsense.

“Ok, listen here, shooterpro69 and yourmom_lol. For starters, I want to apologize for your ignorance and lack of education on the matter of asexuality. In fact, for you especially, I plan on making an educational video, explaining asexuality to people who need or want to learn more. You, my friends, are in desperate need to be fed some knowledge cause damn, God knows how many people secretly think you’re hella stupid. Not that they’re wrong to think so but anyway. Unless you have anything nice or positive to say, begone from my chat. Actually, when I think about it, begone from every chat. No one needs you polluting their communities with acephobia and hate.“ I say, all spoken in a calm tone despite the boiling anger within me. People who know me well would probably be able to tell I’m fuming underneath the calm façade, but at least I got my message across loud and clear.

“WOO HOO, You tell em Y/N!“ Toast cheers, clapping his hands and whistling as more cheering arises from each my friends, leaving me in a state of mild shock and confusion.

Wait, what?!

“Um, wait, you guys heard that?“ I ask, my eyes darting to thein-game mic symbol that shows an not crossed-off mic, meaning it was enabled during the entirety of my speech.

“Hell yeah we did! You slayed them, Y/N! Damn goddamn!“ Rae whistles too, her enthusiasm wafting over me like a breath of fresh air.

“I second that!“ Corpse joins in, “And remember what we said - we’ll support you through anything. Need to bury an acephobe’s body, we’re the people you should call.” He says, confident as heck.

And I just can’t hold it in anymore - I burst out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.

If I thought I was happy and fulfilled before, this has to be the closest to paradise I’m gonna get on Earth.  All thanks to these wonderful people. Friends are really something else aren’t they: they come into your life - often unexpectedly - and change it completely. Suddenly you’re not alone, you’re not forced to deal with everything and face everything on your own. Someone’s got your back and you’ve got theirs.

Through thick, thin and beyond.

And it’s so fucking amazing.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 12

Habit: Camgirl & Degrading

Hmm ok so I think it’s at this point that my writing style kinda changes a bit & I don’t like it as much as my old one, but I’m def gonna keep trying to improve it uwu

Quick warning for dub-con ahead!!

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

You think you‘re alone in the house

And it’s only when Habit walks into your room, halfway through your show, do you realize you‘re sorely, sorely mistaken

That sly, menacing grin on his lips paralyzes you in place

“Well, what do we have here, little rabbit?~”

He sounds ever so pleased at his discovery as he saunters into the room, and it’s only then that you manage to snap yourself out of it

“S-shit—!”

Eyes wide and face flushing a deep, dark red, you‘re a deer in headlights

But before you can scramble back and cover yourself, he snatches your ankles, forcing your legs apart so he can soak in the view of your exposed sex practically dripping in need

“What’s all this for, hm?” he drags the words out, practically purring

Your eyes flicker to the screen before you can stop yourself

He follows your gaze and, surely enough, he notices the cameras set up to face you, along with the streaming site you’re currently on

Everything inside you screams to cover yourself or find some way out of this, but he’s got you right where he wants you

If you could curl up into a ball and let the bed swallow you whole, you‘d let it happen

He chuckles, and the sound sends a spike of both fear and arousal rushing down your spine

“I didn’t know you were such a filthy girl, bunny”

The bed dips beneath his weight

He completely ignores your protests as you try to pull away from him

“H-habit, I can explain—”

“Oh, I don’t need an explanation” his lips curl into that sadistic grin again as he cuts you off, “I can see how much of a slut you really are. Go on then, don’t stop on my account”

He yanks you up so that you’re on full display to both him and the viewers, your legs split wide open so you’ve no way to hide the sopping mess between them

You’re trapped

There’s no way he’ll let you out of this unscathed, and you really, really don’t want to make a scene right now

So, despite the pounding in your chest and the adrenaline racing through your system, you swallow your pride and hesitantly trail your hands back down your body

Moving to your chest, your fingers graze your nipples before continuing down to the spot between your legs

You can’t find it in yourself to make eye contact with the entity, especially not as donations ping in from the chat

His attention turns briefly towards it, looking over the comments before returning his gaze to you

He snickers at how flustered you look

“C’mon, bun, don’t be shy~ Aren’t you supposed to give us a good show?~”

He runs his calloused fingers up your folds, gathering up your arousal in his hand and everything in your lower half clenches

His head tilts to the side and he repeats the motion, coaxing a quiet gasp from your lips before you can shove it down and quiet yourself

“You like knowing people get off looking at you play with yourself? Hm? Bet you like showing off, don’t you?”

He sinks his middle finger into your core and you choke back a whine at the feeling, your back arching and hips involuntarily wriggling for more

Almost painfully slowly, he fucks you on his finger, pulling an embarrassing amount of slick from your folds before adding another digit and stretching you out even further

“What a filthy slut. If I would’ve known you were so dirty, I would’ve fucked you a lot sooner” his voice is husky and gravelly and the sound alone has you squeezing around him

He chuckles

You wonder, very briefly, if your viewers are confused by the sudden guest appearance

But then he hits a certain spot that has you gasping, your legs jerking beneath him, and you realize you don’t care either way

“God, you like that, don’t you? You like everyone knowing how much of a slut you are?”

You make some indignant sound, resisting the urge to grip his broad shoulders and pull him in closer because you need him to fuck you right now

He hums, then his fingers disappear and he brings his pelvis against yours where you can feel his hard-on straining through his jeans as the coarse material rubs into your sex

“F-fuck”

You’re breathless, thoughts swimming, your fingers bundling up the sheets

But then a couple of donations ping in, and it has you flinching and looking away, the magic of the moment ruined by the cruel reminder

He grunts, gripping your face and squishing your cheeks to force you to look at the camera

“Look” he hisses, “Don’t try to hide from this, rabbit. They’re all here to see you be a filthy cockwhore. Surely, you won’t disappoint them now, will you?”

His hand moves to your neck and it makes it all the easier to use the leverage to grind into your slick, puffy folds

A hushed whimper slips from your parted lips, your head falling back, hands gripping at his wrist around your neck

“Look at you getting off to this, bunny~”

The warmth of his muscular form moves away momentarily as he undoes his pants with his free hand, tugging his thick member free and lining himself up to your entrance

But instead of pushing himself in like you admittedly want him to, he turns to the camera, and you don’t fail to notice his menacing grin revealing sharp teeth beneath

“If you fucking pervs wanna see this little slut take what she deserves, you better start paying up~”

Almost immediately, a huge wave of donations come through, one after the other, all of them coaxing him to take you—and take you hard

He snickers, turning back to you with a dangerous glint in his eyes

“See, rabbit? This is what they wanna see. You’re gonna take my cock like the good little fucktoy you are~”

He drags his length up and down your slit, watching you squirm and bite down your filthy pleas

Then all in one, strong thrust, he presses forwards and bottoms out until he’s balls deep inside you

Your back arches, moaning and cussing and whimpering, and when he squeezes your throat even harder, you gasp, your eyes fluttering close in concentration

“You’re just a sloppy set of holes for everyone’s entertainment, aren’t you?~”

He slowly pulls out, moving excruciatingly slowly as he pushes back in again, inch by inch

And it feels so fucking good being stretched out by him like this, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix before nudging the nerve endings along your walls—you can’t even bring yourself to disagree with his filthy nothings

“How many wish they could fuck you like this? How many wish you were their good slut instead, hm?”

His voice is a low, gravelly timbre that has you trying to roll your hips up into him, borderline desperate for more

“H-habit, please—“ you whimper

But he only chuckles, still refusing to give you what you want

“You’re clenching so tightly, (y/n)~ Fucking whore, you’re enjoying this too much, aren’t you?~”

Your hands flutter up, gripping his well-defined forearms as he pushes in and out of you

“God—f-fuck!~”

The way his pelvis grinds into you almost has you forgetting about your audience

But then he pulls away without pushing back in, and you’re about to beg him for more before he tangles his hand into your hair and forces you around so that you’re facing the camera on your hands and knees

The swell of your tits is on perfect display while he has unrestricted access to the curvy flesh of your ass

“I think they need a better view of that pretty little face~”

He sheathes himself inside you again, and this time, you don’t bother muffling your own sinful moans as your face contorts, mouth falling open in an “o” for everyone to see

Your head falls forwards as he sets his pace, but he’s quick to fist your hair and force you to look at the camera again

“You’re not looking away from this, bunny. I want everyone to see how good you take my dick and my dick alone. They could never make you moan like this, no matter how much of greedy little cockwhore you are”

He roughly snaps into you and it has you mewling loudly, your eyes rolling back as he starts moving faster and harder until he’s all but drilling into you

And it’s like pure bliss

Every pump of his cock brings you higher and higher, ecstasy filling your body until it’s all you can focus on

A hard smack to your ass has you clenching, and he chuckles, another wave of insults spilling from his sharp tongue as his palm meets your flesh again and again

You squeeze your eyes close to avoid the growing viewer count and their endless stream of donations and filthy encouragements, all trying to spur him on to get a good show

You fist the sheets, tits bouncing back and forth as he fucks you doggy, and it isn’t long before your back’s arching and your vision’s bursting with stars as one long, hard orgasm ripples through you

“Atta girl~ Cum for me, slut~”

You squeeze him so hard, tight walls trying to milk him for all he’s worth, that with a few more mouth-watering thrusts, he grunts and his cock twitches, spilling his entirety inside you

You flinch at the feeling, your muscles sore and your skin numb and absolutely raw

He ruts into you a few more times, giving a couple few final smacks to your ass, and then he’s pulling out, letting his seed leak from your abused cunt

You almost feel pathetic looking at all of the donations and comments and the sheer amount of viewers

“Be a good girl and clean this mess up, little rabbit—I have an important job for you“

It’s all he says, as though he didn’t just fuck your brains out in front of the internet, before zipping himself back up and leaving you alone in front of everyone watching

[giorno-plays-piano]

The Void

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x mutant!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, HYDRA’s experiments, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, captivity, home invasion, stalking, kidnapping.

Words: 2381.

Summary: Once an ordinary human, you keep running away from both HYDRA and Avengers, knowing what your powers will be used for. The problem is the Soldat picking up your trail.

P.S. The reader is somewhat dark-ish in this one.

________________

Carefully slipping inside the laundry room through a broken window, you landed on the cold concrete floor and shivered, hoping you could find a really warm blanket somewhere upstairs.

Although you still felt a bit ashamed breaking in the houses of other people like that, at this point it was the one and only alternative you had. Of course, there was always an option to submit to HYDRA or whoever else was hunting you down, but you didn’t really appreciated it, simply trying to stay away from both heroes and villains since to you they were all the same. You knew perfectly well once somebody captured you they’d be using you for murdering other people.

Thankfully, laundry room wasn’t locked, and you started wandering the house, peeping into each and every room. Watching photos of the family the house belonged to, you felt guilty again. These people weren’t at fault you were homeless and chased out from every damn place on the Earth, but you still took what was theirs just because you could find no other way to live. Well, at least you tried to leave the place as it had been prior to your break-in, except a broken window in the laundry room and canned beans you’d eat.

God, you could kill for a bowl of homemade chicken soup. You barely remembered eating it before HYDRA captured you a few years ago. Of course, they didn’t try to starve you there, but you couldn’t call what they’d been giving you real food either. Thinking of your cell and those meals made you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. Everywhere was better than there, so you needed to put your shit together and take whatever fate offered you.

It was getting late, and you glanced at the tiny window in the basement, wrapped in a big grey comforter you brought from upstairs. You never slept in the rooms of other people, not knowing when the rightful owners of the houses you broke in could come back. Generally, you didn’t have problems with people, either escaping before their return or finding your way out secretly without them knowing somebody was hiding in their basement. However, sometimes you had a feeling people hunting you were coming close, and you didn’t risk getting too comfortable. Today was one of those days, and you bit down on your lower lip. These ones were probably not HYDRA operatives - they’d never risk attacking you at night when your powers were at peak. Nevertheless, it didn’t mean whoever was coming for you was harmless. You had to be prepared.

That’s it. Somebody was approaching, you could feel it in your bones. It was probably the one and only thing you were grateful to HYDRA - you were nearly invincible in the dark.

Silently leaving the comforter on the floor near an empty can, you got up, moving to stand near the wall behind the door, hardened black mass blocking tiny windows and leaving the intruder only one way to get in. You hoped they weren’t bringing explosives as you still had a hard time compressing the darkness around them - a month ago it resulted in some serious damage done to the house where you were hiding.

But this time was different: there was only one man who came for you, A strange man, though. He had a metal arm, and his body… It was something you had never felt before. The man was like that Duracell bunny they showed in TV ad, enhanced to the point he was barely human, probably.

But he was still just a man, now all alone with a monster like you.

When he entered quietly, leaving the door barely open, you blew it off its hinges. You had very little patience - now you would have to have a sleepless night, trying to find a new hideout as far as you could from this place and hoping HYDRA wouldn’t track you down. Its operatives were way more creative in their attempts to catch you: that mirror box trapping light nearly killed you last time.

Wrapping your fists into black mass like boxing gloves, you punched the man, but he quickly moved away, apparently, more skilled in combat than you were. Well, whatever, you thought as the darkness disintegrated on top of your skin, and then the intruder got a direct blow to his stomach without you getting near him. Coming to you at night was a suicide.

You kept beating him down until he dropped to the cold floor of the basement, beads of sweat and blood shining on his skin as you pinned him down, completely unharmed. You did your best to avoid the vital organs, but it was probably unnecessary - you could literally feel the soldier regenerating while he laid down, staring at the ceiling. Was he HYDRA’s creation just like you were? Or did good guys make beasts like him, too?

“I won’t do anything to you,” you told him, coming closer to look into his surprisingly handsome face, “but I’ll kill whoever you send to catch me next.”

“HYDRA’s… coming after you.” The soldier muttered, coughing and wincing from pain as you towered above him.

“You or them, doesn’t matter much.”

A part of you felt remorse for beating the stranger so bad he couldn’t rip the restraints holding him down despite his enormous strength, but the other part made you remember you were the victim, not him. The only thing you ever wanted was living like a human being, not a lab rat or a weapon of mass destruction used by whoever hold you hostage.

Besides, if this guy didn’t know the nature of your powers before attacking you, now he certainly did. It was unwise to let him live - he would definitely let his masters know - but you couldn’t force yourself to end him. Killing wasn’t nice. You had never enjoyed it.

“Avengers can protect you.”

What? Did the man work for them, then? You smirked, shaking you head.

“Avengers can’t protect themselves. Now please be quiet and let me leave. We’re done for today.” Turning your back at him, you went to grab your backpack and then put a few cans in it to continue your journey, tired and upset you couldn’t rest despite travelling all day long.

“I can help you.”

You abruptly turned to face him still chained to the floor and clenched your teeth. This was what HYDRA’s men were telling you year after year. Helping you, that what they were doing.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to plant spikes right through your tongue.” You hissed at him, going back and watching him with his pretty mouth finally shut. “If you wanna play a hero so much, go wipe HYDRA out and forget I’ve ever existed.”

The soldier stayed silent, and you exhaled angrily, marching through the basement to the stairs and quickly going up. God knew how many people could be waiting for you outside of the house - Avengers were usually gathering together on the missions, even you knew that from occasionally seeing them in the news.

Shit, it was going to be a long night.

________________________

One more month was gone as you continued to run and hide like the world’s top criminal, chased out of many cities where you could find peace for at least a couple of days. Now it was mostly one-night sleepovers anywhere you could find. You finally understood what being a mad dog meant - sometimes you thought you could kill for those canned beans you hated so much before.

Slowly, but surely you were running out of options where to hide. The only place now was the forest surrounding that little town where you relocated after your brief encounter with HYDRA two days ago. Forest was a bad place to be. You had very little skills allowing you to survive out in the wild for long. The more you thought about that, the more you realized you had, in fact, only one option left.

Suicide. Only then you could become truly free of that mad chase and ensure no one would use your abilities for killing others. You already had enough blood on your hands.

And still, when you though of black spikes piercing your head, you were shaking. It would be so much easier if somebody just shot you when you weren’t looking.

Huh, what a cruel world you lived in, you thought while finishing a can of chicken ham - God, you didn’t even remember when you ate something so delicious. It was harder to imagine killing yourself after a good meal, but you still considered the option, looking at the carpet with a dull expression on your face.

You were euphoric after your escape from that facility where you were held, and now you were thinking maybe it was better to just wither there like all those countless men and women before you, unable to contain their enormous powers in pathetic human bodies. What was the point of being so strong if you couldn’t have your life back? What were these powers for except the destruction? You’d gladly exchange your fantastic abilities on a chance to return home to your family. That is, if HYDRA let it be, which was unlikely.

You blinked, tired to the point you barely felt your own body. If they’d decide to come for you now, you probably couldn’t dodge the attack this time.

But it wasn’t HYDRA who came for you - with a syringe in your neck, you suddenly fell down to the floor, watching the handsome face of a man who had seemingly emerged from the wall behind you like a ghost. What was that? Was he like you, too? You didn’t sense it in him the first time, but maybe the soldier was more dangerous than you anticipated. Well, he certainly was, you thought as he carried you upstairs like a firefighter escaping the burning house. Would he lock you down in a cell, too? Would he let his masters experiment on you for the sake of humanity? Would he kill you once you closed your eyes?

Before the soldier reached the front entrance, you had already lost consciousness under the influence of the drag he injected.

The darkness that followed should had been calming, soothing, as you only felt safe in complete darkness, but you couldn’t find your peace: it was cold and lonely and scary when you were falling down deeper and deeper into the black void. Did he kill you, then? Was it the end? Would you spend your eternity in the dark?

It certainly felt like eternity before you woke up, still in the middle of nowhere, but feeling a soft mattress beneath your back. Your arms and legs hurt - it felt like you were tied up to bed. However, the fabric of your clothes was nothing like the ones you wore before the assault. It felt soft, and smelled pretty nice, too.

But you still saw nothing, nothing at all. Everything was pitch black.

Were you in a dark room? A cell? Whatever, you could work with it, you though and called the darkness as if it was a part of you.

And nothing happened.

You called again, then once more and once more, but the darkness didn’t free you. It didn’t answer to your plea - it wasn’t there at all.

Suddenly, you realized there was no darkness surrounding you as you heard a subtle buzz of dozen projectors directed right at you. The darkness was in your head because they blinded you.

You were screaming and crying and jolting on the bed, trying your best to break free, crush the metal headboard, do anything at all to just touch your eyes, discover what they did to you as you felt nothing but numbness and some tingling. Did they pluck out your eyes? Did they take them out because it would be easier to control you once you lost your eyesight?

You didn’t know whether you were still screaming when you felt a stranger’s hand on your cheek as he sat down on the bed. Exhausted and horrified, you tried kicking him, but the restraints kept you in place as he lowered his head to your face, “it’s alright. You’re safe.”

Oh, it was him. It was the soldier who had emerged from the wall of the house you were hiding the last time.

“What did you… do to me?” Breathing hard, you yanked your head to the side to avoid his touch. Huh, safe, that how he called it. HYDRA or Avengers, there had never been any difference to you.

“I had to temporarily blind and drug you. The effect will wash off in a few days.”

With that, you forgot how to breathe for a couple of seconds. Temporarily? Did it mean you eyes would be alright? Did he not pop your eyes out of their sockets?

“Please, calm down. I won’t hurt you.”

You stayed quiet, but not because the soldier asked you to. You just laid there, listening to the buzz of the projectors and thinking you would be able to see something again. For a few seconds you were filled with a bitter sense of triumph. Maybe you were crying again, though you couldn’t really feel the tears streaming down your face.

Oh, how could you wish to die? How could you even think of committing suicide? No, no, never again, even if you’d have to break each and every bone in the bodies of your enemies, and rip their heads off. Whatever it takes just never to return to that black void again.

“No one knows you’re here.” The soldier said somewhere close to your face, and you furrowed your brows. “HYDRA won’t find you.”

“Until you push me to the battlefield.” You sneered, still furious he did such a horrible thing to you, leaving you here like that.

“Avengers don’t know you here either.”

Laughing sarcastically, you fell silent as you felt his flesh hand touching your cheek and brushing the hair out of your face.

“Don’t worry, I will fulfill your wish.” You could smell the metal of his breath. “You won’t exist for anyone but me.”

_______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @void-hoechlin​ @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @soleil-dor​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @ninefuckingoneone​​

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: G

Summary:

“There is nothing I can do, then.” His voice fell somewhere between a statement and a question.

Her palms felt hot. She clenched her fists, snuffing out the fire before it could ignite.

“You can bring back my children.”

(Asgore and Toriel angst, post-pacifist route. Takes place the first night on the surface.)

Word Count: 1,878

XXX

Toriel expected sleeping on the surface to feel a little more comfortable.

Of course, laying sprawled in the grass couldn’t compare to her queen-sized bed.  And the breeze was new and old and restless, dancing in her fur and keeping her awake.  And somehow, despite not having lungs, Sans was snoring.  

Those were just excuses, she knew.  The real interruption to her sleep lay on the other side of the clearing, his hulking form too still to be unconscious.

Her ex-husband.

The murderer of her children.

She wasn’t afraid of him. But after all these years, her anger and disgust had fermented to something even more bitter.  If she had her way, he would never set foot near her child.

But Frisk was forgiving.  More forgiving than Toriel could be.

She sat up just a bit, trying not to make a sound, just so she could check on Frisk.  They were still bundled in Sans’ bony arms, seemingly oblivious to the thundering snores.  Toriel trusted Sans—despite everything, her friend had fulfilled his promise—but it still pricked a bit that Frisk had chosen him to protect them, rather than her.

It made sense. She’d learned that Sans was the only one who didn’t fight them.

She rolled over.  A pointy rock jutted into the fur between her shoulder blades.  The stars were too bright.

And Asgore was still too close for comfort.

With a muffled sigh, Toriel got to her feet and padded towards the edge of the clearing.  Sans and the others could protect Frisk for now.  She just needed a moment to clear her head, to be…

Alone.  How long had she been alone?  Perhaps that was the problem.  So many monsters—and one human—breathing in sync, filling the air with the sounds of life.

You missed that.  You missed them.  Do not pretend he has not caused your pain.

It was a short walk back to the cliff where they’d exited the underground.  The moon—the moon, oh, it was beautiful—hung bright and round as a butterscotch pie.  The whole world seemed to spread beneath her feet.  The wind caressed her face with the tenderness of a lover—

A lover who had seen her children destroyed.  Dead.  Stolen from their home, struck down when they set foot outside, rammed through with a trident meant to protect— 

“Could you not sleep, either?”

She jolted up at the voice, fire magic already flaring in her palms.  The voice’s identity didn’t give her much incentive to put it out.

“Dreemurr,” she said curtly, turning back towards the moon and reluctantly extinguishing her flames.  “Do you not have better places to be than bothering a tired old woman?”

“Um.”  He coughed.  Even after all these years, that cough felt so familiar.  “I thought, perhaps you would like some company… but it appears I was mistaken.”

Despite that, she didn’t hear his footsteps leave.  Insufferable man.

“You wanted the company.”

He chuckled sadly.  “You always could see right through me, Tori—Toriel.”

She pursed her lips at the nickname.  How could he still call her that, even by accident?  How could he think things could be the same, when he had her children’s blood on his hands?

Paige. Finn. Ceil. Ren. Malia. Dylan. And very nearly Frisk.

“Things will be difficult for us monsters on the surface,” Asgore murmured.  “I do not relish leading our people alone.”

Our people.  The words stung.  The monsters were still her people, but they weren’t her people.  She could no longer be their queen. Some wounds just went too deep.

“You will manage, I am sure.”  Look at the moon. Not at the man she once loved.  “You will have Undyne, and all of the Royal Guard.  Against my better judgement, you will have Frisk as your ambassador.  You will not be alone.”

The wind whistled between them, almost obscuring Asgore’s next words.

“But they will not be you.”

Toriel’s fur bristled.  “You should be grateful they are not.  You will find them much more willing to forgive you.”

He flinched.  She wasn’t sure when she’d started looking at him again.

“There is nothing I can do, then.” His voice fell somewhere between a statement and a question.

Her palms felt hot.  She clenched her fists, snuffing out the fire before it could ignite.

“You can bring back my children.”

Asgore closed his eyes.  The moonlight highlighted the creases in his fur, the centuries of pain carved there.

She would know. She’d collected those centuries like scars herself.

“If only I could, Toriel,” he whispered. “If only I could.”

He settled down on the ground a ways off. Just far enough to not technically be in the same space, yet still near enough to make her fur itch.

She should go back to the clearing. Her new friends and her child were there. Without Asgore nearby, she might even be able to sleep.

...No. She doubted she would get a wink now.

Sighing, she started down the path to the clearing—

“Would you tell me about them?”

She paused at his voice, her eyes narrowing.  “I suspect you will get to know Frisk well enough on your own.”

“No—them, plural. Your children. The ones I… no.” He shook his head, horns glinting in the moonlight. “I would not cause you more pain if I can help it.  I think of Asriel and Chara every day. I thought, perhaps, if you wished to share your fond memories… but I would only taint them.”

He wiped his face with one paw. “I am sorry. There truly is nothing I can do, though I wish with all my soul.”

She blinked at him.  His apology, his wishes, his sorrow—none of it could make a difference. None of it could bring her children back.

Paige. Finn. Ceil. Ren. Malia. Dylan.

(Asriel. Chara.)

But she’d saved one.  Well, Frisk had mostly saved themself.  According to Sans, they’d survived most of the Underground with very little interference. All Toriel had done was return in time to, as Sans put it, “dunk on the king.”

“Toriel…?”

Right. She had been staring.

With a heavy sigh, she settled down in the dirt. Not too close. But not too far, either.

She wouldn't sleep tonight anyway. There were worse things she could do than remember the children who had sacrificed their lives for her freedom.

“Paige,” she said quietly.

“Hmm?” Asgore straightened.

“Paige.  She was the first human who fell, after… after Chara.”  She swallowed.  Heavens, this would not be easy. Yet somehow, despite everything, it felt right.

“Your guards found her in the Ruins. Before I sealed the entrance.  She would have stayed with me forever, if it were not for that. I know it.”

She was only seven.  Smaller than Frisk, but louder—full of life, full of energy, and at most times, full of the monster candy Toriel left out for the Whimsuns and Froggits. A pink ribbon shimmered in her ponytail, catching the light of Toriel’s fire when they cooked together. Well, when Toriel cooked, and Paige pretended to slice vegetables with her toy knife.

Wherever human souls went to when they died, Toriel hoped she was happy.

“Finn was the next to fall,” she continued.  “He had come to Mount Ebott on purpose—I do not think Paige did. I never did figure out how she ended up there…” And Toriel never would, thanks to the man beside her.

Realistically, Paige would be dead by now anyway. Humans did not share the lifespan of boss monsters, and she had fallen hundreds of years ago, so soon after Toriel had lost Asriel and Chara.

And yet it was still an innocent life, ended too soon.

“Finn,” Asgore repeated quietly. Toriel had almost managed to ignore his presence until then.

“He was an odd one. Always surprised that I knew that he was a boy, as if I could not see his soul. Perhaps humans are less discerning in that regard. He loved to play catch in the front yard, and he never gained the taste for snail pie, though he single-handedly kept the spider bakery in business.”

She smiled at that memory. On the few occasions Muffet visited the ruins, she always gave Finn an extra cup of cider with his donuts.

Muffet had later delivered the horrible news herself, rather than leaving it to the spider gossip chain. Finn had been captured by a dog monster outside Snowdin. He’d never gotten to taste the Cinnamon Bunnies he’d snuck off to buy.

She said a prayer for him, though she was no longer sure anyone listened. If someone had, Finn and the other children would still be with her.

“He sounds like quite the sweetheart,” Asgore murmured. Present tense. As if his orders hadn’t been the cause for Finn’s demise.

“I… I can’t do this, Dreemurr.”  She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was blood.  Blood and dust.

She was free. They were all free. With Frisk’s help, no monsters and humans would fight again.

Was she still too stuck in the past to appreciate just how bright their future could be?

“Toriel—I’m sorry.”  His arms fell back to his sides. He had been reaching out, as if to hug her. “I am so sorry…”

“Ceil was sorry,” she whispered. “She left me a note before she disappeared. Nabstablook told her of a cousin with a talent for dance, and she… she wanted nothing more than to perform for monsters, to show that humans were not to be feared…

“And Ren. Always exploring.  Reading. Learning. Soaking up whatever knowledge he could, and writing it in his little notebook. I wonder what happened to it when he… when he…”

Tears ran down her face, staining the front of her tunic. Embarrassment flushed her, but why should she care? This was the man who had killed her Ren. Why should she hide her grief?

“Tori—”

“Malia,” she cut him off, her voice shaking. “Always wanted to help. Tried to make my butterscotch pie… I’ll never forget the f-flour on her face…

“And Dylan. Malia’s older brother, searching when she never returned. I had to tell him… tell him I couldn’t protect her…”

She huddled her knees close to her chest, all pretense of dignity gone. It didn’t matter what Asgore thought of her. She knew what she thought of him.

He was a murderer. No matter his intentions, she could not, would not forgive that.

“I…” He held out a hand.

“Don’t touch me, Dreemurr,” she snapped, though her soul was hardly in it.

Her anger wouldn’t bring her children back, any more than Asgore’s regret would.

“I will not.” His voice was soft. The voice of a husband, not a murderer, but ears could deceived. The soul could not.

She had seen the extermination points shielding his soul. Strengthening his trident. He was not the man she remembered.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me of them.”

She looked up, meeting his tearful gaze with her own.

“You can thank me by removing yourself from my life,” she growled.

Then she stood, and made her way down the mountain.

Her child—the one she had left—would be waiting for her.

[koolkat9]

First Valentine’s Day

Paring: GerEng, implied PruIta

Rating: Teen (Just to be safe)

Word Count: 1949 

Summary: Germany and England are celebrating their first Valentine's day together. Germany who has little experience in the romance department and the haunting memory of their first date littered with mishaps is nervous, but vows to give his lover the best Valentine's Day he can.

---

"Germany you need to stop," Italy said, his usually cheery tone was replaced by one of seriousness. Germany had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes and the sight was making Italy's neck hurt. "I know it's your first Valentine's day, but you have nothing to worry about."

"What about our first-"

"That was only once. And still, he loved you regardless."

"Ja but...b-but..."

He grabbed his friend's forearms with a strength Germany never saw before. "No buts. Take a deep breath. In...Out...good."

Despite Italy's best attempt, Germany's stress was way past the point of deep breathing. He tried to smile at his friend, but even he could tell it was strained. For a week now he had been thinking of all kinds of plans for England's and his first Valentine's day together. Sure they had spent it as single friends over the past decade, but now they were lovers and that changed everything. England deserved only the best, and Germany had little to no experience with romance. While Germany began pacing again, Italy just rolled his eyes and headed to the living room to phone one of the best restaurants in Berlin and get the two love birds a reservation.

When he returned to Germany, said nation was still pacing around the room, mumbling to himself. "Dios Mio. You can relax a bit. I set up your dinner plans.

Germany halted his pacing. "Really.”

"Si, si. For six. Now come on, you still need to get him a gift."

Germany opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't really argue. Also, one important thing was out of the way, which made him feel lighter. Before he could say anything, the beaming Italian was pulling him out the door.

---

"So you have the reservation?" Italy asked as the two sat in the car just outside of a glitzy restaurant. The only light was that from the street lamps and the restaurant itself.

"Ja...Ludwig for two at six."

"Perfect! And the gift?"

"Yes." Germany looked down at the nicely wrapped box he held in his hand.

They had spent the whole afternoon looking for something and regardless of how many little trinkets they found, none of them were fitting enough (at least according to Germany). Eventually, they came across a store that sold all sorts of glass items. He hadn't thought much of it at first, but he was desperate. He definitely hadn't expected to find a small glass figure of a bunny with eyes as green as England's and would walk away with such a gift. It seemed perfect at the time, but now he was starting to doubt that England would like it.

Italy gave him a slight pout as if he knew what Germany was thinking. "Don't start that," he warned, "just get in there and show him how much he means to you!" Germany swallowed hard. He appreciated his friend's advice and support, but no words were able to calm his beating heart or racing mind.

A knock on the window took Germany out of his thoughts as he came face to face with England. His emerald eyes sparkled under the lights and there was a small and endearing smile on his lips. Germany always found his smile beautiful and the image in front of him made him a bit calmer.

"Good evening love," he greeted, placing a kiss on Germany's cheek.

"Guten Abend." They stood awkwardly for a few moments, looking over each other shyly. England wore a nice a-line suit in dark green that complemented his eyes perfectly and his hair was more kept than usual. "Y-You look lovely," Germany eventually spoke.

The Brit's cheeks went pink at the compliment. "Thank you...so do you." He took the German's hand and began guiding him towards the entrance. "You know, you didn't have to go out like this."

"I-I know...I...I just...you deserve it."

"Oh...w-well.." for once England was at a loss for words, "l-l-let's just head in."

---

"What do you mean the reservation was for five?" Germany took in a deep breath, trying not to raise his voice at the hostess. That proved difficult however as she told them that their table had been given to another couple due to their "tardiness."

He was about to lose it until he felt a light tug on his arm. "Come on Ludwig...it's fine." England muttered. He began pulling Germany towards the door, despite his protests.

"B-But..."

"We don't need their fancy, overpriced meal," he said a bit louder this time to make sure he was heard by the staff.

"Arthur!"

"Just come on."

England didn't stop pulling until they were back outside and even then he didn't let go of Germany's arm. The cool night air against Germany's skin and a deep breath managed to cool him down and let go of his frustration. With a clear mind, he began thinking of what to do next. Italy was the one to drop him off so he didn't have a car and England flew here so he didn't have one either. He looked up and down the street trying to think of restaurants nearby that wouldn't be busy.

"I saw a bar on my way here and it didn't seem too busy, maybe we should try there," England stated, leaning into his boyfriend.

"We might as well check. I don't have any other ideas."

---

At least there was some luck on their side. The bar England had mentioned was practically empty and they got a table right in the front window. Their suits were a bit much for the venue, but they distracted themselves with conversation and their meals. Despite how awkward and frustrating the night started, everything fell into place once they were seated and catching up with each other.

As they ate and England went on about the disastrous meeting with the Commonwealth, Germany noticed that some crumbs had made their way across the Englishman's cheek. "Y-You got some..." he gestured to his own cheek. England lifted his napkin to the side of his face, just missing the spot. He tried a few more times before Germany had had enough and reached over with his napkin to wipe them away. The Brits cheeks went warm at the contact, but a small smile graced his lips as well. Germany was not so lucky however as his whole face and even his neck went bright red and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Thank you...now how has your week been?"

"W-Well..." Germany debated whether he wanted to admit he had been worrying and panicking over today, but considering how good things were going, he figured that it was best left forgotten. "Pretty good. Nothing too special though other than helping Feliciano pick out a gift Gil."

"I see. Tonight is at least eventful."

Germany gave a small chuckle, "I suppose. But anything with you is a highlight in my week."

"I-Is that so?" England's cheeks were flushed again as he reached for what to say next, "God you are too much sometimes...but I feel the same way."

     After finishing their meal, England suggested exchanging gifts. Due to Germany's nerves, England offered to go first, handing him a heart-shaped box with a lovely white ribbon. He looked away as Germany took the box. "I-I got Emma to help me get the chocolates. I-I-I hope it's to your liking."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful." He looked down at his own gift box starting to think that maybe he should have just gotten flowers or chocolates.

"Love?" England called after a few minutes of staring at the gift.

"Uh...sorry. Here you go. Fröhlichen Valentinstag."

Germany was unsure what exactly caused him to drop the box, but somehow, while handing it over to England, it ended up on the floor and a loud crack was heard. Things became deathly silent as the two stared wide-eyed at the fallen gift.

"Lud-" before England could finish, Germany was already up and heading to the door, his fist clenched and a deep frown on his face. England quickly paid, gathered the boxes, and rushed after him. He shouted out Germany's name as he wandered the streets looking for him.

Eventually, England caught sight of the slicked-back hair of Germany across the street much to his relief. It did not last for long as he tripped while coming down off the curb and landed on his foot wrong in an attempt to stop himself. At least he got Germany's attention who was at his side in no time. He propped the Brit up into a sitting position and ran his fingers over the small scrapes on the other's face.

"Arthur. Mein Gott. Th-This is...I'm so sorry."

"It's...ah...it's fine love. I'll be good as new in a couple of hours."

"No, it's not fine. None of this night has been fine. I...I'm ruining it all. I'm sor-" he couldn't finish his sentence as a pair of lips crashed into his. The kiss made his mind blank and he found himself eagerly kissing back.

As they pulled back and Germany's brain began working again he asked softly, "can you walk?"

"I don't think so."

"I'll carry you."

"W-Wait Ger-" Ignoring the Brit's sputtering, Germany hoisted the other man onto his back. All England could do was grab onto his partner's shoulders and bury his burning face into the crook of Germany's neck.

"I'm sorry for a mess of the night," Germany apologized again.

"No, no, no. You have nothing to apologize for. Lady luck just isn't on our side. Plus...I still had a good time at the bar."

"M-Me too. And I'll replace your gift. It's probably even more broken from that fall."

"Yeah...you don't have to though."

"I can't just not get you a gift for Valentine's day. And don't you start arguing with me over such matter." England sighed and buried his face once more into Germany's neck in compliance.

---

As soon as they returned to Germany's home, England was laid on the couch with his injured foot and Germany went into the kitchen for ice.

"Can I get you anything else?" Germany asked after he situated the ice just right. Before getting up, he pecked the other's ankle for good measure.

"Well, there is one thing." England gave him a smirk as he gestured for the German to come over to which Germany did with a cocked eyebrow. Before he could say anything, he was pulled down into a long, slow kiss. He hummed into it as he moved his lips to match England's. They eventually (and reluctantly) had to break for air, but England's hold on Germany kept them close.

"Anything else?" Germany murmured, placing a light kiss on England's ear.

"Can I see the gift you were going to get me?"

"Nein, you will have to wait for tomorrow."

"Bu-" In a similar way that England did this evening, Germany pressed his lips against England to silence him.

"I'll get the same thing, I just have to run to the store again tomorrow."

"Fine. Chocolate?"

"I'd love that."

And so, the two lovers shared the chocolates as they sat back and watched some cheesy romance film that was playing on the T.V. Eventually, England snuggled into Germany's side and closed his eyes, content to fall asleep right there. Usually, Germany would protest such actions, but it was Valentine's Day and England's sleeping face looked so soft and peaceful so he let it happen. Soon enough Germany also dozed off, leaning his head Against England's.  

Translations:

Guten Abend= Good evening

Fröhlichen Valentinstag= Happy Valentine's Day

[skarsgardonhard]

Mine || Roman Godfrey x Reader

Disclaimer: This is a re-titled (and possibly edited) work that I posted on another blog. 

Concept: It’s Halloween and you decide to wear a sexy costume to Hemlock Grove’s Halloween Party. When it gets you more attention than expected, Roman doesn’t take a liking to that.

You had been sleeping with Roman Godfrey for about a month now. Honestly, it seemed so surreal at this point that you often forgot. Him ignoring you in the hallways made it pretty easy to do so anyways, but then you’d feel your phone vibrate in your pocket during gym and he’d ask you to excuse yourself to the locker rooms to “use the bathroom” and he would take you in one of the changing stalls and cover your mouth with his large hand so no one could hear your screams of absolute pleasure. You’d remember it for a couple of days, feel yourself pressing your thighs together every time you saw him, and then it would fade away like some repetitive dream and repeat and repeat and repeat.

It was kind of a mind fuck really -- about as much as an actual fuck as it was. Sometimes, you wondered how he could just forget about you like that? Especially when he’d found himself balls deep in you so many times. The look on his face whenever he cummed inside of you and later, finding the morning after pill in your locker because he just couldn’t help himself. It was all kind of frustrating, but what could you do about fucked up kid, Roman Godfrey, anyways?

You weren’t thinking about that though as today was one of your favorite days. Halloween. Some popular cheerleader was having a Halloween party and anyone who was someone was going to be there. You weren’t usually the type to go to these kinds of things, but you’d wanted to show off your outfit that you’d been working on basically since last year. You knew the compliments would be overflowing. You just didn’t know how much attention it would actually get you in the end. After all, this was a cheerleader’s party, not a school dance. There would be plenty of girls in their slutty costumes. You were almost sure of that much at least.

So that was why you were at some popular cheerleaders house in a tight Black Widow suit, wearing a red wig and blood red lipstick. When you walked into the place, you noticed people stopped to look at you. They were all Party City cheap knock off costumes. Drunk guys with fake blood and black capes. Slutty girls dressed as all sorts of animals: cats, bunnies, even a sexy bat. None of that compared to you though and they knew it. There was something original about you. You weren’t showing skin and yet, the leather hugged your body like a second skin, revealing every curve you tried to hide in baggy jeans and t-shirts. The music was playing loud in your ears, drowning out all possible thoughts that Roman Godfrey just might be here to see you looking like this.

Instead, you find some jock and rock his world by dancing with him. Girls all the while glaring at you. Their jealousy was nearly tangible and it only seems to hype you up more as you sway and then comes the jock’s roaming hands. Gripping your hips as he grinds against you, but there’s not much to feel. Probably because of steroids the poor guy had probably had to take to even get that size. It’s only when you see the tall figure of Roman Godfrey heading your way that you push his hands away. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in another world or dimension. One where only you and Roman Godfrey exist. The music feels dimmed, just buzzing in your ears, even though you know he’s angry.

His nostrils are slightly flared and even though all eyes are on the two of you, that doesn’t stop him from grabbing your wrist and practically flinging you towards the door. You nearly trip over your own feet as he pushes you to exit, following closely behind. Everyone around you seems just as confused as you are as he pulls you through the sea of parked cars and more people in outfits arriving. They all turn their heads to look at you as you pass. Your heart is thudding in your ears as he leads you to his Jaguar, pinning you up against it with a loud thud.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asks then, Godfrey green eyes looking into your eyes. You find yourself puffing your chest out at him – almost in defiance. What the fuck does he think he’s doing right now? Last you checked, he didn’t want to be seen around you because you weren’t a fucking cheerleader. Apparently fucking you was good enough though that he kept coming back. You knew you should have just cut him off by now, but it seemed the addiction to each other was mutual.

“I was having fun at a fucking costume party. The fuck are you doing? And what the fuck are you even supposed to be?” You gestured towards his costume. Suit and tie, gelled back hair. To say that he didn’t look good would have been a complete lie and the way he towers over you makes you want to sink to your knees. There’s a heat rising even though it’s a chilly night. He’s right there, breathing, pulsing, existing.

“Fuck you.” You can see the way his jaw clenches when he says that. Part of you wishes that he would, right now. What would people think if he flipped you over, ripped you outfit and took you right on his car where everyone could see? You couldn’t stop the thoughts now even if you wanted to. Roman Godfrey had that kind of effect on you, especially when he was so close to you.

“You already did. A million times.” You retorted back, his fingers clench into fists as he looks away. You examine the angle of his jaw at the new view, down his neck. You had to inhale softly or else you might never breathe again. You squirm a bit, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. People are still watching, but from a distance and Roman notices.

“Get in the fucking car, y/n.” He says, voice almost a growl. You look him up and down, see that he’s semi-erect in those slack pants and make no further argument, opening the drivers side door that he pinned you against and get in, climbing over the stick to get in the passengers seat. He follows after you, pulling out and starts to drive though you have no fucking clue where he’s heading. It’s dark and you’ve never been that good with directions.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s your fucking deal?” You ask after a few moments pass by. He grips the wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road. He glances over at you for a second before his jaw clenches. You’re pretty sure at this point that you are intentionally pushing his buttons. You think he might take you somewhere to fuck the life out of you. You don’t have any complaints to that idea. Hilarious though that he seemed so angry about catching you grinding on little dick footballer, as if he was anything in comparison to Roman Godfrey himself.

“Shut the fuck up.” Was his only response, it seemed the Godfrey heir wasn’t too good about talking about his feelings – whatever the fuck they were. Eventually though, you realized that you were heading for his place. You’d never actually been there before – or well not inside of the actual house. He’d pulled up in front of the Green House a few times and fucked you in his car, but then he’d drop you off somewhere and pretend it didn’t happen. You wondered if that’s what he was going to do again.

He pulled up into the driveway and parked. You sat there, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for him to say something. He didn’t. He got out of the car. You watched him walk up to the house before you decided to get out, following behind him. You didn’t see his mother’s car so you assumed she must not be home. When you walked inside, you were surprised at just the sheer size of the house. You closed the door behind you, trying to take it all in. Roman was already half way up the winding stairs before you realized what was happening. You frowned as you moved to follow along. Where was he going? Why was he acting like this?

Eventually, you found yourself in his room. You didn’t see him at first as you walked further into his room. Roman closed the door behind you and you expected him to give you some kind of explanation. Instead, Roman pushed you against the wall with another loud thud.

“The fu-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he wrapped his large hands around your throat, squeezing as he pressed his body close to you. You felt your heart rate spike up. The sheer act of dominance was enough to make your legs feel like putty.

“You’re mine.” He finally said, a deep throaty growl in your ear before he was pressing his full lips to yours heavily. One hand slid to grip your waist, lifting your leg to wrap around him. He grinds his hips against you and you can already feel yourself getting wet. You moan into his mouth and he picks you up completely, rutting his hips against you needingly. He pulls his mouth away, kissing up your jaw.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” He said, voice almost a moan now, nails scraping against the leather of your Halloween costume. You felt yourself rocking back, needing him. He’d never been so vocal before, but now that he was, you found yourself falling down a deeper hole. You were sure at this point you would never get over Roman Godfrey.

“I’m yours.” You panted, “All yours.” You couldn’t deny it anymore. No matter how many times you tried to forget him, he was always there. In your head, in your dreams. There was no escaping it and part of you didn’t want to. All you had really wanted was for him to claim you, to say he wanted you as badly as he expressed when he fucked you and now he had and you felt like you were high.

“Good girl.” Roman breathed nipping your earlobe, unzipping the front of your costume in one swift motion. You shrugged your shoulders out of the sleeves of the costume. It was so tight that you hadn’t worn a bra, something he seemed to appreciate as he cupped each of your breasts as he balanced you against the wall with your hips.

“These tits” Roman said, giving one a light slap, “Are mine.” He’d never been so aggressive before and maybe it was the jealousy really taking over him. You opened your mouth to say something cocky but those full lips took in one of your nipples, tongue and teeth moving to send shivers down your spine. You found yourself gripping his gelled hair as a whimper left your lips. The bottom half of your costume was still on you, but the top half hung down from your hips. He pulled your nipple between his teeth before placing soft kisses all over your chest.

“Roman…” You breathed and he set you down, wiggling you out of the rest of your costume. The black thong seemed to do nothing but turn him on as he slid the costume off your legs and tossed it aside carelessly, but you couldn’t care about it right now. His eyes were intense. That anger. That desire. It made your thighs quiver. He picked you up again, practically tossing you on the bed. His eyes never left yours as he undid the buckle of his belt.

“Hands and knees.” Roman demanded, “And take that slutty thong off.” He bit his lip for a second as he watched you slide the thong off, tossing it aside before rolling onto your hands and knees like a playful kitten. He looked at your perfect ass and couldn’t resist the urge to give it a hard slap. “Mine.” He mumbled, letting his slacks drop to his knees. He kicked them off, moving to get on his knees behind you in just a pair of boxers and his button up shirt, shrugging off the jacket he’d been wearing. He loosened the tie as he rubbed his bulge against your ass. You could feel him throbbing and he could feel how wet you were.

“Shit.” He inhaled, “Gonna fuck you so good.” He slid his boxers off and grabbed hold of his cock, giving it a slow stroke before rubbing it between the lips of your dripping cunt. “Bet you’ll scream for me then.” He pushed his tip against your hole, making you inhale sharply. One large hand went to rest on your hip and the other grabbed you by the back of the neck. You let yourself spread your legs a bit as you felt him slowly slide into you. Your eyes rolling back before he pushed you into the bed in one rough movement.

“So…tight.” He groaned, looking down as you took the full length of his cock. “And wet…” He breathed before giving your ass another smack, “Bounce on it!” He commanded then and you couldn’t help it. You found your hips rutting, doing your best to bounce on Roman Godfrey’s thick length. He let out soft moans, squeezed your neck a little tighter. He let you control the pace until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed you back down roughly by the back of your head, thrusting his hips roughly. The wet sounds your pussy was making just egged him on even more.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna cum!” Roman growled, pounding away at your g-spot as he angled his hips. You felt yourself drooling against his bed sheets, toes curling as you felt yourself reaching your climax. He gave one last hard thrust as you cummed, coating his cock with your release. He let you have it, holding himself back as he pounded you through your high before pulling out, cumming all over your ass. It took you both a moment to regain composure. He plopped down beside you, hand brushing your lower back.

“So that’s what this was about? You were jealous?” You ask him, feeling your lids grow heavy.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re just...mine. Okay?” Roman responded lazily, “Go to sleep.” You smiled softly as you moved close to him, snuggling against his side. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You fell asleep with his arm around you and the scent of his cologne in your nostrils.

[zblackiez]

A Solution Imperfect

A cool breeze.

No, a warm breeze.

No, a cool one.

He decided on in-between—a wave of pleasantness that kissed his skin all over.

The tender laughter of children swirled into his eardrums, forcing his leaden eyelids to finally lift and his world of dreams to crumble into the abyss. Light poured into his pupils, overflowed his retinas.

Huh? he wondered as he stared up at a beautiful azure sky. Marshmallowy giants of white roamed past, giving the graceful birds that soared kind company. In the center of it all hung the brilliant sun.

Like a lover, fatigue clung to him, and he couldn’t muster the courage to break her heart. So, he stayed lying on the flat surface, languid like a zombie.

Where am I?

He looked around. A mixture of grass and stone pathways showed all around him, along with humans who indulged in their existence; some relaxed on the green, feasting from picnic baskets, while others happily strolled along, hand-in-hand with a special someone. Children wore rosy cheeks and bright smiles as they played and played.

A park? he asked. The comfortableness of the wood beneath him dwindled rather fleetly. That would explain the bench.

Enough with the relationship. His consideration to beg for forgiveness zero, he cut ties with the tiredness of his bones and sat up. The sun roared for his attention, and he had to shield his eyes for a second. Soft chatter embraced him from many angles.

No one gave him even a wink of attention.

At the fountain in the grass’s center, he gazed.

What am I doing here?

He cranked the gears of his mind, hoping to open the door to his vault of memories. Locked.

“Yo,” a voice said.

He jumped a bit. And here he thought his invisibility had no rate of failure.

He turned his head to spot a teenage boy standing beside him. Age seventeen, or somewhere around there. Frame thin but not scrawny. Short. Clear skin, colored white like fresh snow. Of that same shade, a neat comb over that matched well with the emeraldness of his irises. The clothing of the mystery boy consisted of a white button-up shirt with a black vest to cover, a bowtie, dark cargo shorts, and low-top shoes.

“I see you’ve finally found your senses,” the mystery boy said politely.

“My senses?” the boy of the bench asked. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Odigía,” the mystery boy answered.

Weird name, thought the boy of the bench.

“What’s your name?” Odigía asked.

“My name?” It rolled on the tip of his tongue, teasing him. “I . . . I don’t really remember.”

“You know, there's a trick to remembering things; doesn't work all the time, but it's better than nothing.”

“And what trick would that be?”

Odigía balled up his hand and clenched tightly.

“Make a fist,” he suggested, “then squeeze as hard as you can. Dunno the exact science behind it, but I’m pretty convinced it works. Has plenty of times for me.”

A little reluctant, the boy of the bench complied and curled his fingers.

Huh?

This familiarity. This sour nostalgia.

Why does it feel like I've done this before? A lot of times before, actually.

He decided to toss the odd curiosity aside, since the combination of letters arrived to his mind’s barren festival, one piece of text at a time.

“I’m . . .” he began. “I'm Leonardo. Leonardo Far.”

“Leonardo?” Odigía asked. “Sounds like a nice name. Your parents have good taste.”

My parents. The pictures of Leonardo’s mother and father, too, could not be fished out from his lake of memories. Only blurs and pixels would define their features.

“Why does it feel like they're so distant?” he wondered. “I could've sworn I just saw them.”

Odigía frowned. “It looks like you're forgetting some pretty important things. Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I randomly woke up in this park, so the norm is definitely out the window.”

“Do you at least recognize this park?”

Leonardo’s eyes bounced around his surroundings.

“A little,” he answered. “I remember that fountain vaguely, but that's about it.”

A smile from Odigía. “Well, considering that that’s the only landmark here, I’d say you’re on the right track.”

“I didn’t even know I was on a track.”

From afar, a family burst out in laughter. Smiles all around.

“I have an idea,” Odigía said. “How about we walk around for a little while? Since you can remember this park, if only barely, maybe strolling around town will help jog your memory.”

Leonardo considered the idea. Whereas his mind leaned towards the journey, his limbs, heavy as steel, urged him to think long and hard before deciding.

Ultimately, he followed what others could never see.

“Okay,” he said. “Anything’s better than just sitting here.”

Odigía grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

To the best of his ability, Leonardo fought with gravity and lifted himself to his feet. His body whined, but only for a slim time, soon accepting his choice to move forward.

“Lead the way,” he said to his new companion.

“You got it.” Odigía began to saunter down a pathway of cobblestone, and Leonardo tailed close behind. The crisp air swirled into their nostrils with every step they took.

She skipped past, a little girl holding a plush bunny.

Giving his best awkward smile, Leonardo waved.

Ignored.

“Don’t feel bad,” Odigía said after hearing his partner’s sigh. “At least you tried. That counts for something.”

“If only I could feel that something,” Leonardo groaned.

The duo made their way beyond the park’s entrance, and after some turns here and some detours there, they wound up on a street belonging to a neighborhood. Modest houses stood on either side of them, boxed in by towering wooden fences.

The sun kept its shine.

“So,” Leonardo said, “what’s your story?”

“How do you mean?” Odigía asked.

“I mean, why were you there when I woke up? It looked like you were waiting for me.”

The mysterious boy fell quiet for a moment. “Let’s just say, I like being a guidance. You looked kinda out of place just laying there on that bench, so I figured I might be able to help you out.”

Leonardo looked at his partner for the oddity he made himself to be.

“You have a weird way of making friends,” he said.

“You say weird, I say different,” Odigía countered. “Everyone has their own take on what they consider normal. For me, it’s actively looking for someone to help. I like doing that.”

“To each his own, I guess.” Leonardo studied all around them. No hint of familiarity would show itself.

“Now, my question for you,” Odigía said. “Do you remember anything more?”

“Not really,” the boy of the bench answered. “I’m drawing blanks.”

A weak sigh from the guidance. “I shouldn’t have assumed something small like this would help start you back up. I guess I didn’t think hard enough.” He muttered to himself; something about being “fresh on the job.”

Is this normal for him too? Leonardo wondered.

Odigía’s face lit up.

“I know,” he said. “I have another idea.”

“I’m all ears,” Leonardo said.

“Just follow me.”

Isn’t . . . Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?

Keeping up with the rather repetitive request, the boy of no memories complied.

Eventually, he and his guidance arrived at a massive building complex made up of metal hued sapphire. Skywalks connected structures. Rows of windows allowed for limited view into the space. A parking lot, packed with a vast collection of vehicles, surrounded the whole of the building.

It tapped him on the shoulder, then flicked him in the forehead—the sprinkling of recognition.

“I . . . I remember this place,” Leonardo said softly. The routine unraveled in his head: wake up before the crack of dawn, scramble to finish assignments while scarfing down waffles, then jog to the jungle of wolf packs and misfits. “Isn’t this . . . ?”

On the face of the building, the bold letters revealed themselves: New Hope High School.

Yeah, he thought. Yeah, I’m not wrong here.

Odigía stepped forward, towards the entrance of glass doors. Leonardo followed.

“Hi, Leonardo!” someone would cheer.

“My man, Leo!” another would holler.

Sometimes I’d have bread sticking out my mouth, so they couldn’t catch my reply, Leonardo thought. But I appreciated the time they took to just notice me; I made sure they knew that.

When they reached the entrance, he braced himself. The conversation that fluttered around like birds did always manage to get his heart racing.

On the stage the boy stood, always tense before the imaginary audience.

Odigía pulled the door open, and they entered.

Silence.

No jokes being told. No person going buddy-buddy with their best friends. Only a stillness that had everyone on a leash. The cafeteria that Odigía and Leonardo walked into housed a decent crowd—a crowd that wore faces of the sorrow. No one smiled, as if the nature of joy had grown extinct, as if the Reaper roamed the halls, punishing any who dared break his atmosphere of death.

This isn’t what I remember, Leonardo thought. It isn’t supposed to be like this.

“What happened?” he whispered.

Odigía dodged the question. “Do you remember anything?”

“This is my school. Or at least, it was. Why does everyone look so sad? This place is usually as lively as could be, but right now . . .”

“Maybe something happened?” Odigía offered.

Leonardo looked around. Saw two girls holding each other tightly, sobbing into one another’s shoulders. Another, a boy, wore a torn heart on his sleeve as he drew something.

Then, it saw Leonardo. Saw right through him. A colorful poster, taped up on the wall, displaying an image of two people hugging each other. Above their heads showed the message, Everyone Has Their Battles.

His heart dropped to his stomach. His intestines twisted into intricate knots. As smooth as his own thoughts, whispers began to play in his head—sinister calls that had been birthed by Evil itself.

You’re so . . .

So . . .

Such a . . .

Why won’t they finish? the boy wondered. I know what they’re gonna say, so why won’t they say it?

The whispers ceased, gone with the wind to come back another day.

Leonardo bolted out of the school, back into the outside world.

Back to where the sun kept its shine.

His breaths refused to relax.

Odigía appeared behind Leonardo only seconds later.

“You okay, Leonardo?” he asked.

“No,” Leonardo said. “No, I’m not. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I’m not having any of it.” He swiveled his body to start walking away. “If you’re not gonna help me remember, then I’ll do it myself. I don’t need your help.”

“Leonardo, wait.”

He did.

“I’m sorry,” Odigía said. “I’m new at this, so I don’t really know how to go about helping you; not exactly, anyway.”

“‘New at this’?” Leonardo turned back around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

Odigía hesitated.

“One more place,” he finally said. “Let me take you to one more place. If that doesn’t bring you back your memories, then I’ll leave you alone. For good.”

Despite the waste of time his guidance handed to him, Leonardo found it difficult to not believe Odigía’s words. He had his messages dipped in sincerity and honesty.

“Okay,” Leonardo said, frowning. “One more place.”

Odigía smiled. “Thank you.”

Leonardo let his guidance lead him away; far, far away from the place that didn’t shine beautiful joy quite like the lost boy remembered. They strolled back into the neighborhood’s streets, then took a turn down a dirt path. At its end, there was a house—a small wooden shack that couldn’t have been bigger than an apartment room. Drapes covered the closed windows, keeping unwanted eyes from peering inside.

The memory flickered.

Leonardo gasped softly. “This is . . . ?”

Odigía approached the front door, and with a simple twist of the knob, he pushed forward and entered the home.

The boy of no memories followed.

A mess lived in the residence: smashed pots scattered across the wooden floorboard; tables had been flipped. Little light paid visit.

“What happened?” Leonardo asked.

“Why him, George? Why him?” A female’s voice—a voice that always managed to warm up his insides, always willing to dig him out of his hole, if only by an inch.

Leonardo looked towards it. There, he saw two individuals sitting against the wall: a man and a woman.

The man had a beefy build and a beard that made him look like a lumberjack. So it came as a bit of a shock when the wetness of his face showed. His eyes drowned in redness, spilling rivulets of tears.

The woman had a more slender figure but no weaknesses to fall to. Her tears dribbled down her cheeks as she clung to the beefy man with all her might. She looked like she hadn’t experienced the bliss of sleep in ages.

“He was so young, George,” she whispered. “So young.”

“I know, baby,” the man choked. “I know.”

The words slipped past Leonardo’s lips before he could even realize he had them.

“Mom? Dad?”

“You know them,” he heard Odigía point out.

“Of course I know them! They’re my mom and dad. But why are they . . . ?”

Leonardo plummeted to a world of no noise when he stared at himself—at the small portrait of him that sat right beside his sobbing mother. Two candles wearing gentle flames stood on either side of it.

“Why?” he asked. “Why are they crying? I’m right here, Mom. I’m standing right here, Dad. I’m—”

“Okay,” the gatekeeper of his memories said, “the time’s here.”

Remembrance, like a flood washing into his veins.

Dangling feet. Deprivation of oxygen. Blurriness that crept into his vision as he clawed at his throat.

The way out.

A single tear rolled down Leonardo’s cheek.

“Odigía,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“I’m dead . . . aren’t I?”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“And the one who ended me . . .” He slowly rubbed the neck. The fangs of the noose could still be felt deep in his skin. “. . . was me?”

“I’m sorry, Leonardo,” Odigía said. “Yesterday morning, you committed suicide.”

“But why would I . . . ?”

The whispers returned to caress his ears, holding nothing back.

You’re so alone.

So worthless.

Such a waste of space.

Right, Leonardo thought, crying like a lost child. It was to get away from them. I thought that if I left here, they would finally leave me alone.

I thought that was the only way out.

“Why?” he asked. “Why is everyone else sad? Nothing was supposed to change if I disappeared. My death wasn’t supposed to matter. It shouldn’t.”

“And for some, that’s true.” Odigía said. “With or without you, Leonardo, the sun will continue to rise and fall. That little girl with the plushie will continue to laugh like it’s her last day on Earth. But to some people, you were the center of their universe, whether you realized it or not. You thought that by ridding yourself from the world, you’d erase that sadness, that emptiness, that ate away at your heart. Truth is, all you did was spread that sorrow around to the ones you love.”

“That’s not what I wanted,” Leonardo choked. “I just wanted to be happy.”

“That’s what they all say.” Odigía gave a tiny smile. “That’s even what I said. But this path does not lead to happiness; only regret.

“This is the imperfect solution.”

Leonardo stepped closer to his mother and father and crouched down to hug them as tight as he could. So warm. So loving. A feeling he’ll never forget so long as he knows his own existence.

“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad,” he said softly. “I was so selfish. I never meant to hurt you guys.”

“You’re not selfish,” Odigía promised. “You’re not weak. You’re not a coward. You’ve been fighting your monsters for so long. You held on for so long. Always, you tried your best to make others happy, even when you never were. No one can take that away from you, Leonardo, not even yourself.

“Your battle was just too much for you. I think the One Above was expecting too much. Leonardo Far, I’ll say this again: You are no coward. You are a fallen soldier, and the fallen will always be recognized as heroes.”

A closer squeeze on the two who would always inspire the boy.

“I wish I could go back,” he said.

“If I could, I’d let you,” Odigía said. “But I don’t make the rules.”

“I know. I guess all I can do now is move forward.”

“And watch over the ones who you inspired, Leonardo. There’s a bunch more people who looked up to you than you realized.”

He let go of his parents.

He let go of everything.

He joined Odigía.

“Ready to go?” Odigía asked.

Leonardo wiped his eyes. “Yeah.”

His guidance snapped his fingers to forge a glass staircase that ascended to a golden glow at the world’s roof.

“Up?” Leonardo asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be going down?”

Odigía frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I’m horrible. That’s what they always told me—the voices in my head. I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror.” Shame devoured his pupils. “I couldn’t even accept myself.”

From his guidance, a kind expression.

“The monsters in our heads,” he said, “they’re wrong. They’re nothing more than disgusting creatures who feed on our despair. Whatever you tell yourself, they deny it. In actuality, though, the only thoughts that matter are your own. What do you think, Leonardo?”

“Me? Honestly, I thought I was pretty okay.”

“And that was good enough.” Odigía started up the stairs.  

Leonardo managed a small smile. I don’t want to leave this world, but I guess that’s on me.

He joined his friend, and together, they headed up to his new home.

[crushingonrazz]

Lavender’s Blue

Read it on Ao3 here

Warnings for Major character death, child death, premature labor, angst, grief, I'm sure you can infer what's going to happen and that it isn't going to be good. None of the events are described in detail, you are just told what has just happened and left to deal with the emotional pain of it all, so it isn't as graphic as the chapter 100 stuff.

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Razz had never been much of a singer. His voice was low and grating, not quite hitting the right notes no matter if he was trying or not. He guessed there was some amount of enjoyment in belting it out if he didn’t care how he sounded, but pride had always been his big fatal flaw.

Pride and anger. It used to seem like that was all he was good for.

Of course, singing hadn’t ever been much of a thought in Swapfell. For the most part, it just wasn’t part of the culture. There were a few nursery rhymes, passed down from generation to generation, sung by parents to soothe the fears of their children. But he’d been in Underswap long enough now to explore the little things. Music was amazing, and being with Blue, especially, always ended up with him finding something new to enjoy.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, lavender’s green…”

The sound of Blue’s voice, when he sang, had been rich and deep. He’d had this lilt to his speaking voice that had lended itself well to the music. Stretch had a gorgeous voice, rising and falling and hitting the notes and making your jaw drop that something like that could be coming out of someone like him, but Blue had a beauty all his own. Part of that was due to his enthusiasm, screaming out lyrics as he bounced to a beat, but it was to be admired even in his quiet moments.

Once, at some party at Alphys’, he’d been standing on a balcony, watching the stars as he sang under his breath. He was barely loud enough to be heard, and the lyrics would have been impossible to understand if Razz hadn’t already heard them out of Blue’s mouth about a thousand times. Drink in his hand, hips swaying to his own imagined melody, he’d certainly painted his own peaceful picture.

“When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen…”

Then Razz had tripped over the balcony’s threshold, swearing loudly and breaking the spell. Blue had laughed good-naturedly and helped him up, eyes flashing with warmth. Razz had been sure he would never experience anything so beautiful again.

But, of course, Blue seemed to make it his life’s mission to surprise him.

They never really got around to getting formally married. That would have required Stretch’s blessing, Slim’s agreement. Family was important in Underswap, and with as little as their brothers seemed to approve of it all, it just didn’t seem worth it. There were enough quiet nights, closed eyes and bonded souls, that no one, not even their little brothers, could deny what was right in front of their faces.

Blue and Razz didn’t need anything so formal for it to be clear who they would spend the rest of their lives with.

“Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so?”

Razz could still hear it, the sound of Blue’s voice ringing through the house. He’d walked into the kitchen, one afternoon four months ago, to find and appreciate the source of the music. Blue had been standing at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. When he saw that Razz had entered, he’d smiled that beautiful smile, and Razz’s soul had just soared.

Blue was beautiful. He always had been. His voice, his eyes, his endless enthusiasm. Razz had never had anything like this, and even on the bad days, the days of silence and tears, Blue was everything. He was so much everything that Razz didn’t think he would ever understand it. And when Razz stepped forward that day, circling his arms around Blue’s waist and realizing that he couldn’t feel the bones past the ecto something that was summoned there, he thought that Blue had already given him everything.

“Twas mine own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.”

There had been shock, then doubt. Then, to his own immense surprise, there had been joy.

The LV12 former Captain of the Royal Guard, Personal Assassin to Her Majesty the Queen, was having a child. Being given a child. Blue had given him so many gifts already, so much kindness and love that it had just seemed to good to be true.

He… he really should have known that it was too good to be true.

He should have known.

Blue had such a large presence that it was easy to forget how physically small he was. How much magic was running through bones that, despite Blue’s avid protests, were childlike themselves in their size. Razz wasn’t a biologist, but it seemed obvious in hindsight. It made sense that having such an imbalance might have affected the way his pregnancy worked.

Logic may have been telling him, now, what went wrong. But it was too late. Logic could tell him whatever it wanted, but the dust pooled at Razz’s side, the blood coating his arms and shirt, was telling him that it was far too late to change any of it.

Blue loved to sing. Full of life, hope, laughter. He’d always hoped for Razz. Loved him, more than he deserved.

Razz loved Blue so much.

She looked just like him. Her eyes were bright and blue, her soul sparking, a smile formed on her face when she had first come into being. Her bones were small, too, but Razz was pretty sure that was more on account of the fact that she had been born so early. Far, far too early. He could see her magic trying to pulse through her, soul swelling as it failed to create the magic she needed to survive.

There was dust softly shimmering on her tiny ribcage. He wiped one shaking hand on the sheets, used a finger to brush away the dust. She wasn’t smiling anymore. He held her to his chest, drew his knees up, felt Blue’s dust shift in the bed beneath him. She was almost too tiny to be held like this. He didn’t care.

She whimpered, and his soul opened, pouring his magic into her. Anything he could spare, everything he couldn’t. Her soul didn’t look formed enough to absorb it. They hadn’t even given her a name yet.

Razz’s magic flowed into the dark air, surrounding them with purple light and glittering off of the dust covering it all. She started to cry.

It was a heartbroken sound, and tears filled Razz’s eyes as he heard it. God, it had all happened so fast. Blue was sick, a cold or something small, but his magic had been working hard to heal him, and he’d been exhausted. With much coaxing and threats, he’d been convinced to lay in bed and rest. Razz’s head had been on his chest, legs hanging haphazardly from the side of the bed as he read from a certain well-known book about a bunny, Blue laughing at the various silly voices Razz was directing as their unborn daughter.

When Stretch had found out about the kid, he’d immediately gone to a back room, sending what sounded like an entire country crashing to the floor before coming back with the book, all smiles as he handed it to Razz. It’d really been the only smile he’d ever given his brother’s soulmate.

God, he hadn’t even had a chance to call him, before it’d happened. Would things have been different, if he’d known? If he’d been there? What was he going to tell--

The baby was wailing now, and Razz’s shoulders shook alongside her, crying silently as the grief broke through the shell-shocked horror. He knew he had to do something, comfort her, anything. He was supposed to be her father, wasn’t he? And even if Blue had been the gentle one, the comforting one…

Well, Blue was gone.

“Los pollitos dicen pio, pio, pio…”

His voice came out stuttering and shattered, but still somehow audible. Carefully, he cradled his child, rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm her. Held close to his body like this, wrapped in his arms, he hoped she was warm. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her long enough to find something to wrap her in.

“Cuando t-tienen hambre, cuando tienen f-frio…”

Razz remembered singing this to Slim, to comfort him when he was scared. He remembered it being sung to him, too, but only vaguely. Gaster had certainly never sung it. He deemed nursery rhymes to be too common for his wards, even if he treated them no better than dogs. But a simple song had been all Razz’d had on those cold, dark days, just the two of them against the world.

“La g-gallina busca el maiz y el trigo…”

Her cries were growing weaker, the little fist that he hadn’t even realized was curled around his finger loosening. She blinked up at him, blue eyes making his soul clench.

“B-bajo de sus a las, a-acurrucaditos…”

She was so small. So still. Silent. His voice fell away, and then he held nothing but dust. Shaking hands rose to his face, pressed to his sockets. The most he could manage was a whisper.

“D-duermen… l-l-los pollitos--”

“Until tomorrow.”

Razz sobbed as he heard Blue’s voice, felt an arm circling his shoulders. He didn’t look up, knew he’d be gone if he did.

“Or is it ‘until the next day?’ You told me once, but I can never remember. How does the song go?”

“Hasta el otro d-dia,” Razz whispered. A hand cupped his face, tilted it up until he was looking into bright blue eyes. He didn’t need to look down to see their child held tightly in Blue’s free arm, to hear her giggling.

Blue wiped under Razz’s socket with a thumb, pressed a kiss to his temple. “‘Until the next day’ it is, then. What do you think?” His hand dropped to grab Razz’s, lifting him up to stand.

“Have you slept long enough?”

[galfridus1]

The Ten Commandments Christmas Party

So, @deadly-sins-writer and I missed the NNT Secret Santa, and so as not to be left out we did the honours for each other. Merry Christmas DSW! Hope you like this. Inspired by the panel above and cross-posted on FFNet and AO3.

***

“We have to have a Christmas party!” they had said. He had asked why. The responses had been unsatisfactory to say the least. Something about team bonding and getting into the festive spirit, as if the marks of their servitude were not enough to chain them together whether they liked it or not.

And at this moment, he most certainly did not. Galland had mercifully managed to keep Estarossa away from the stove but most of the food provided still left much to be desired. A large plate of burned cookies was being passed around, no one daring to risk a bite. A pile of fruit also lay to one side which Gloxinia was quietly edging away from as Melascyla tried to force feed him. His reluctance was understandable. The apples and pears had started to decay, white plumes of mould sprouting out of them like frost as the flesh dripped fetid liquid into the bowl. That was the last time he would ask Grayroad to help with logistics; he should have remembered that her touch brought death.

But there was some good stuff in amongst all the horror. Dolor had rustled up some human grub he’d grown fond of while in Stigma, and while it pained him to admit it the rich stew was surprisingly palatable. Pork was quite acceptable as a meat. Derieri had also done rather well, providing a large number of human souls which Monspeet was languidly munching on, and by the look on his face they were tasty enough.

But as usual, it had fallen to him to save the situation. The enormous tyrant dragon he had slain single-handed took up the whole room, and his comrades were gleefully eating it raw. It was still warm, Zeldris thought appreciatively as he tore off another chunk with his teeth, enjoying the feel of the thick blood splattering over his face as he did so. This kill had taken him hours but it had been worth it.

He had also made sure that there was enough alcohol sloshing about to satisfy everyone, no easy feat when Estarossa was chugging it straight from the barrel. His brother had bagged the best bit of the dragon for himself too. The large, yellow eye he clutched in his hand was likely to be extremely good eating. A fond smile began to form on Zeldris’ lips as he looked over at Estarossa before memories of another who used to drink that way wiped the joy clean off his face, the brief flash of humour quickly replaced with an habitual scowl. The expression came so naturally now it was like a second skin.

“You don’t want any?” Estarossa called as he thrust the barrel in Zeldris’ direction.

“You know I don’t drink that cheap stuff,” Zeldris scoffed as he stared round at the demons who were his to command. They were all pissed as newts, most of them lolling about over the corpse of the dragon as they drank themselves into a stupor. Gloxinia and Dolor were chatting off to the side, dragon meat not being to their taste, and Grayroad was no doubt floating around somewhere. Come to think of it, Zeldris was not sure if she even needed to eat or drink. The rest of them were just lazing about, clutching greedily at the many barrels of ale. Fat lot of good they would be if any goddess scum showed up.

Still, they were deep within the demon king’s castle and the odds of an interruption were mercifully small. His father, in something of a strange, puckish mood, had allowed them the biggest room in the palace and even Dolor could stand up without crouching too much. The demon king had been pleased with him for converting the fairy and giant kings and had readily agreed to endorse the festivities, even making some crude remarks about supplying entertainment if they wanted. This should have made Zeldris proud, but it didn’t. Nothing really felt good anymore.

“Right, presents then,” Estarossa called and Zeldris’ scowl deepened. His brother seemed to keep forgetting who was in charge. He’d have to take control of the situation, even though he’d not warmed to this fool’s idea in the first place. But it had been nine votes to one so, contrary to his wishes, the first Ten Commandment’s Secret Santa was now a reality. Being their leader should bring more perks than this.

“Ok, everyone come round,” Zeldris called, summoning the wrapped gifts from their spots all over the room. They floated gracefully through the air past contented, drunk faces to lie in a pile in the middle of the polished stone floor. The others all crowded round, sitting in a tight circle without being asked. That was better, Zeldris thought as he took his place amongst them, Melascyla shuffling aside to make room.

With a flick of his finger, Zeldris sent a small, flat package in green wrapping paper into the air. It paused for a second before spinning round and heading straight towards Monspeet. The Commandment of Reticence raised an eyebrow, examining the gift that had plonked itself in his lap with a haughty glare.

“Come on, open it already!” Galland snarled, his armour clanking as his arm moved with his impatience. Zeldris was grateful for this intervention. No need for this ridiculous exercise to go on for longer than necessary. Then they could get back to the dragon.

Monspeet carefully peeled back the paper, making sure not to damage it before gasping in surprise as a thick, white cloak emerged. It was made of an extremely rare material fashioned by the fairies, breathable and yet water resistant. Gloxinia cooed in awe, fluttering over to examine it, shooting Monspeet a glance of appreciation. Monspeet indeed looked happy enough, and quickly discarded his old garment to replace it with the new. There was only one person who would have bought him that genuinely thoughtful gift, Zeldris considered, and he caught Derieri’s eye with a knowing smirk.

With the first present having gone down so well, the expectations round the circle were heightened and Zeldris could feel the tension as the next gift drifted into the air. This one was obviously a box from its shape, and it whirled around enticingly before flying to Melascyla, who shrieked with glee. She tore the paper away as quickly as possible, practically ripping the box in her impatience. Inside were tens, if not hundreds of little balls of wool, commonly used as padding to help ensure delicate objects did not get harmed in transit. Melascyla tossed these away with abandon and Zeldris had to clench his teeth to stop himself from snapping at her as one hit him square in the face. A quick glare at the others however was enough to ensure no one commented.

After what felt like ages, Melascyla finally hit the bottom of the box and pulled out a headband adorned with a pair of long, pink bunny ears. Zeldris bit his lip quickly so as to suppress the bubbling laugher which threatened to break to the surface. Wondering what Melascyla would do, Zeldris was surprised to see her immediately clamp the ears onto her head before she bounced around like a rabbit, earning herself a large round of applause and catcalls from the others. Say what you like about Melascyla, she had always been fun.

Beginning to enjoy the proceedings despite himself, Zeldris again raised an armour-clad finger and a third present sorted itself to its rightful owner, this time Fraudrin. One of the newest members of the Ten Commandments, and having achieved this pretty hefty promotion purely because his better had deserted the cause, Fraudrin was still pretty insecure and was right to be so. He wasn’t even truly one of their number and was very obviously the weakest link in their chain. Most of all, he had nothing compared to the magician he had purportedly replaced. Zeldris clenched his fists as Fraudrin peeled back the paper. He did not like the former general.

After some clumsy manoeuvres with his massive hand, Fraudrin finally exposed the gift, revealing it to be a human doll. Now this would cause havoc, surely. Whoever got Fraudrin this was an imbecile, determined to put an end to the fun. It was times like these Zeldris wished Estarossa would do more to help him manage the team, but he never did. Ever since the traitor had gone, Estarossa had become one the most indolent layabouts in the entire demon realm, and the only reason Zeldris did not discipline him sharply was that this attitude was by far and away preferable to his previous sycophantic fawning. That and, if he was honest, Estarossa would be hard to beat.

To Zeldris’ intense surprise, Fraudrin just picked up the doll and looked at it. There were no yells and no tears. His head was a funny kind of shape and it was generally impossible to read Fraudrin’s emotions, but from the careful way he handled the doll, Zeldris could have sworn he was pleased. Did this leviathan of demons have some affinity with this pathetic race then? He would have to have words; there must be something in the code about not fraternising with humans, and if there was not he would add it first thing in the morning.

Next up was Estarossa who also received a box wrapped in tasteful silver paper and tied with a dark red ribbon. This package had the novelty of actually moving on its own, although magic was still needed to guide it in the right direction.

“It’s hot!” Estarossa exclaimed as he picked up the parcel, dropping it back onto the floor in his amazement. Gingerly, he grabbed one end of the ribbon and pulled. Once free, the top of the box started to bulge upwards before a flash of bright green shot out and darted all over the room with a burst of flames. Estarossa yelped like a little boy as he caught the baby dragon up in his large hands, stroking it tenderly down its spine. The beast purred loudly, before turning round in circles in Estarossa’s palm and promptly falling asleep as the others made cooing noises. Zeldris grit his teeth. Now he’d have to add something forbidding the ownership of pets to the code as well. Using his power to fashion a silver cage so that the newest member of the family would not bring destruction upon the festivities, Zeldris moved on to the remaining gifts.

The next three presentations went smoothly enough. Galland was given a book entitled ‘The Art Of War’ and Zeldris could not prevent himself from releasing a bark of laughter at the sight of the gangling mass of metal trying to peel back the pages with his spiky gloves. Fortunately the sound was drowned out but a sudden, loud snore from the dragon and the booming voice of Dolor who was showing some interest in Galland’s present. That book was an apt gift from a genius. He would have to make sure Galland read the tome, anything to improve his strategic approach to combat.

Grayroad received some royal jelly from someone on the team who evidently knew more about how this queen of demons worked than he did. The floating horror set about devouring the delicacy without delay, the sight causing most of the party to wince slightly as she hovered it up with her many death masks of faces, the slow, sucking noise causing Zeldris to grit his teeth. Still, he would have to make sure there was plenty of that in stock. Grayroad was creepy but useful, and needed to be kept on side. Dolor’s gift was a small postcard adorned with a rather good drawing of the wilds of Britannia, the words “IOU one hug” written on the back. Zeldris caught Gloxinia’s eye and a look of understanding passed between them as Dolor blushed silently. Zeldris was pleased these two had joined their ranks. They both raised the tone.

The next present was his, and despite himself Zeldris felt his hearts race in anticipation as the others started a drum roll. Most of the gifts had been fairly thoughtful but Estarossa’s choice of present had not yet been opened and Zeldris hoped he was not going to be on the receiving end of whatever his brother conceived of as humour. As soon as the parcel landed in his hand however he knew he was safe. It felt like an ornate glass bottle.

Carefully unwrapping the sombre grey paper, Zeldris’ face worked as his scowl disappeared to be replaced by an expression of surprise and gratitude. It was a bottle of aged fire whiskey, extremely rare and wonderfully smokey, made with the help of the wet, spring rains and soft peat to be found in northern Britannia. The others gasped when they saw it, and Zeldris allowed a smile to curve over his lips. In a gesture of extreme generosity, he conjured ten glasses into the air, and poured the amber liquid out. The aroma of the alcohol tickled his nose pleasantly and he felt his mouth water in his impatience. Each one of the team, even Grayroad, took a proffered glass and drank contentedly. It was excellent, the hot bite of it warming him right down to his stomach.

There was only one person who would have given him that, and Zeldris grinned broadly at Dolor, pouring him a sneaky extra glass in thanks. They had agreed on the merits of this vampire speciality only a few weeks back. This thought made Zeldris pour himself a rather large second helping, and he drank deeply to try and forget, but he was not at all surprised when the fire which spread through him only reminded him more forcefully of what he had lost. It had been about a month since he had unwillingly sealed her and her clan and he had not slept properly since.

With another flick of the finger, a spherical package rose into the air and made its way towards Gloxinia. Zeldris tensed slightly as the fairy king started to peel back the shining red paper. He’d thought long and hard what to get for the new Commandment of Repose and hoped this would go down as well as expected. Gloxinia stared at the dark ball he had unearthed, dumbfounded and unable to speak.

“Is that what I think it is?” Dolor boomed as he leaned over his friend to get a closer look.

“I think so,” Gloxinia managed to squeak out, his voice sounding thin and forced. “An orbuculum.” He held it carefully, cradling it to his chest as it shone in the candlelight.

“What does it do?” Melascyla asked curiously, sliding over to get a better view. “Looks like a lump of glass to me.”

“It’s crystal. If you look into it, it will show you the face of the person you most want to see, whether they are dead or alive. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever been given.” This last phrase came with a heartfelt tremor, and Zeldris felt more warmth running though him which had nothing to do with the whiskey he was still knocking back. When he had found Gloxinia, a blubbering mess of tears and anger, the fairy had screamed and screamed his pain at the loss of his beloved sister. With complete understanding, Zeldris had gently coaxed Gloxinia back to his normal self, and the scar of his loss had begun to fade. But the agony was still there, and would be forever. Seeing Gerheade, even if it was only an image, would no doubt give Gloxinia some comfort. He found it helped anyway.

The last present made its way towards Derieri. This had gone well and Zeldris was just on the point of congratulating himself on a job well done when Derieri let out a vicious snarl. Of course. Estarossa. What had he done this time?

“Whoever is responsible for this is dead!” Derieri yelled as she shot to her feet, her eyes raking over the assembled faces as her huge hand of darkness raised to strike.

“What is it?” Zeldris asked. It was his job to arbitrate. Derieri did have a bit of a habit of over-reacting. When she tossed the pamphlet at him however, Zeldris decided that her fury was justified. The offensive thing was entitled ‘How To Behave Like A Lady’.

“I think we can approve of you taking revenge for this,” Zeldris said suavely as he rose to his feet. “This is an unconscionable insult. You are one of our clan’s most accomplished warriors and I will not allow this go unpunished. Estarossa, what have you to say for yourself?”

“Thanks a bunch,” Estarossa muttered darkly as he glared at Zeldris. “Some brother you are!”

“And some comrade you are. This is unforgivable. Derieri, you have no need of anyone to fight your cause. You two can settle this in the usual way. But as you are the injured party, I think the rest of us can give you a bit of assistance. Dolor, would you be so kind?”

With a grin, the huge blue giant waved his four hands and a line of golems rose out of the stone. Derieri lost no time at all and started pummelling them furiously. She kicked, punched, clawed and even head-butted the huge stone goliaths to Zeldris’ absolute amazement. Her skull must be made of some seriously hard stuff.

With a raised eyebrow, Zeldris shot his brother a look of triumph as he and the rest of the Commandments stepped back away towards the edges of the room, giving the two combatants more space to brawl. Zeldris hopped onto the top of the dragon and started to devour it, ripping away the still tepid flesh and chewing thoughtfully, relishing the soft, silky texture and the metallic aftertaste. It was delicious. Watching fights always made him hungry, and the flavour went surprisingly well with the fire whiskey.

“No weapons, Estarossa. I don’t want Derieri damaged,” Zeldris called as his brother started to summon a curved blade from the air. With a look of pure loathing, Estarossa tossed the sword away and it landed with a loud clang as he squared himself up. Derieri had smashed most of the golems to pieces and was flying across the room towards her target, screaming a war cry in her rage.

“Don’t forget about his Full Counter,” Monspeet advised as he took a seat next to Zeldris, offering him one of the shining souls. Zeldris smiled; the soul tasted like pure light as he crunched it, the tang of sadness from the mortal who had built it up causing a throb to vibrate through his core. He took another experimentally and felt the appealing warm spice of anger flowing through his veins, giving him new strength. He’d always rushed these, swallowing them whole in a completely business-like manner and had obviously been missing out by not savouring the flavour.

“These are really good,” he murmured appreciatively to Monspeet, who gave a slight nod in return before passing him another.

“They are, just make sure to avoid disgust. You can tell them apart by the slight green tinge. Joy is the best.” Taking the offered soul, Zeldris bit into it slowly, smacking his lips as the sweet taste of honey burst over his tongue and a gentle contentment trickled to his hearts. The sensation was almost one of being stroked from the inside, momentarily relieving the dull ache that was now always there. It was amazing, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Monspeet looked at him thoughtfully, and passed him another.

“Come on Derieri, bosh him up!” Galland shouted as the rest of the demons cheered. Derieri was circling round Estarossa trying to decide on an angle of attack. She could not go for him directly of course, but she couldn’t hold off forever.

Quick as a flash, the room suddenly went black as Derieri snaked out tendrils of darkness to snuff out the candles. In the confusion, she must have attacked Estarossa judging from the harsh grunt. Zeldris summoned a soft, red light to illuminate the room and was impressed to see his elder brother lying prone on the floor, darkness smoothing over the back of his head to remove the injuries Derieri had inflicted. Most would have been permanently damaged by a hit from Combo Star after that much preparation, but Estarossa was made of sterner stuff. He stood up hesitantly, looking disheveled and dazed, but alive.

“Zeldris, no fair on the lights! They have to stay on,” Estarossa whined as Derieri flew at him again. Zeldris nodded regally as he turned his attention back to the fight. They wanted to be able to see it after all.

“Full Counter!” Estarossa put his hand out, palm facing forward as Derieri slammed into him again, and this time he hit his mark. Derieri flew backwards with tremendous force to land with a blood-curdling smack on the opposite wall. Bits of mortar crumbled away with the impact, and particles clung to Derieri’s coarse, orange hair as she staggered slowly to her feet. Zeldris expected her to build up the combo again with the few remaining golems but Derieri had other plans. Before he could process what was happening, she catapulted herself into the air, soaring across the room with a shout to land on top of Estarossa’s head, pointing her toes so that they gouged into his eye sockets.

Estarossa roared in fury as his eyes bulged. He thrust his fist upwards into Derieri’s stomach, knocking her towards the ceiling. She bonked into the stone, narrowly missing the chandelier before plummeting downwards amidst a flurry of dust, miraculously twisting in midair to right herself. Before Estarossa could react, she changed her trajectory to crash into his chest, at which point she hit him as many times in succession as she could manage, her massive hand of darkness smacking him repeatedly, pulling skin away from bone and turning muscle to pulp. In utter amazement, Zeldris watched as his brother sagged, holding up his arms in surrender. Evidently the alcohol had affected his proficiency. Derieri yelled as she clenched her fist, punching the air in triumph as a fierce grin morphed her face.

“That’ll teach you to treat the team with the respect they deserve, and to watch how much you drink. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Zeldris said kindly as he picked up Estarossa and slung him over his shoulder. His brother’s darkness had already begun to heal his many wounds, smoothing over the abrasions and knitting bits of his body back together. He would be fine by the morning.

“You’re coming back, right? This party’s not even started!” Melascyla simpered as she twirled round the room. Monspeet had found a lute somewhere and was playing it rather well and a number of the company were taking advantage of the rhythm, twisting and jumping in time to the music. Even Dolor was taking part, his graceful war dance drawing eyes and admiration as the room oscillated wildly with his efforts, the chandelier tinkling as it swung dangerously close to his head. Zeldris looked round at the many faces as they cavorted and swayed. His team all looked happy enough.

“Of course. This is the best Christmas ever!” Zeldris said to Melascyla, a rare smile spreading over his face as he carted Estarossa out of the room.

[sserpente]

A/N: Tadaaa! Here it finally is! The first Captain Jack Imagine out of (hopefully) many to come! Enjoy, everyone, aye?

Words: 1990 Warnings: death sentence

The drums pounded in your ears, your heartbeat adjusting to their ill-fated rhythm. It was quite early in the morning. A sunny and promising day, with waves breaking at the shore, gushing against the rocks and wetting the hot sand at the beach and seagulls singing their cawing songs and yet, it was all but a dreadful day.

People were crowding in the court, their daily tasks and duties forgotten as they stared up at the huge wooden construction with only three men standing on it. They were greedy and hungry for blood and death, awaiting with anticipation what made them sinners themselves. You felt disgusted by each and every one of them. Every woman, every man and even every child that had locked eyes with the thick rope that was hanging from a big wooden bar, ready to be slung around somebody’s neck with only one purpose—to kill. To kill and to punish those who had disrespected the crown and refused to conform to its beliefs and laws, to be convicted for the simple wish for freedom.

The man speaking to the crowd was unimportant. He listed his crimes, eliciting devilish smirks from him as he did. Shaking your head, you pushed the onlookers aside. It earned you insults and complaints but you couldn’t care less. You needed to get closer. In time.

In fact, it all happened too fast for you to comprehend what was happening and at the same time, it all seemed to slow down. The hangman approached the wooden lever, ready to steal away the last piece of safety the pirate had all while the drums quickened their fatal rhythm.

You had one try. One shot that if wasted, was gonna be your personal death sentence. Were you really going to do that? Saving a man who you didn’t even know properly? You had read stories about him of course. Stories about a pirate who had managed to escape a deserted island, of a man who had plundered the harbour of Nassau without firing a single shot and a man who had even survived Davy Jones’ locker and returned from the dead. Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black Pearl.

And now here he was. Standing on the podium right in front of you, looking into nothingness with sad and dark eyes as if this time, he had resigned himself to his inevitable fate already. There was nobody to come, nobody to safe him and nobody to cheat the Grim Reaper this time. He was alone and even if you had never exchanged a word—only heard him sneaking around Port Royal again—you had felt sorry for this brave and incredibly cunning man, hunting nothing more than the true meaning of freedom. Certainly, he had done terrible things too but in the end, he was a man with ambitions and passion.

And it was what impressed you, what gave you the final push to draw your weapon and aim at the thick rope.

Remember. You have one shot.

It all happened in a second. The lever being turned, the wooden board giving away under Jack’s weight. He dropped, helplessly, into thin air and you pulled the trigger, the shot echoing ear-piercingly through the whole court. You hadn’t missed. You had succeeded.

Instantly, guards were alarmed and started searching for the culprit, the people around you screaming and backing off, some of the men attempting to grab ahold of you—something you had already expected. You had to be fast now. Pushing through the crowd once more and knocking over a soldier who was approaching you, you drew your sword and threw it towards Jack, who had, seemingly confused, landed on his arse in the dirt. A shake of his head and a pout was all it took, however, to accept the weapon you were offering him and then, you legged it. Fleeing and escaping, doing what you did every day when obtaining food. Only this time, they wouldn’t just try and chop your hand off. This time, they would want to hang you as well.

You pretended to be a bunny. A dirty bunny, running from the fox, sidestepping to avoid the bullets they were firing at you and trying to irritate them until you climbed over a fence, starting at the harbour. Your heart was beating like a steam hammer, threatening to break through your chest as you ran for your life, all for saving a legendary pirate. On the other hand, there was not much you could lose.

Being born in a filthy alley in the dark and abandoned by your mother when old enough, you had no contact whatsoever with your parents. Your father, of course, you didn’t even know. Every day you had to fight for your survival, stealing, lying and cheating to satisfy the painful growling in your stomach. You had tried to find work at first—unlike you mother so you had sworn once, you would become an honourable person but that hope quickly subsided when you got all but rejected. The blacksmith preferred men to work with. The cook thought you too young to take responsibility. The bartender was a perverted man who wanted you to work for free and the only option that was left was selling your own body and making use of your womanly beauty.

You’d rather die than to sacrifice your dignity and self-respect and prostitute yourself. So you started stealing. An apple here, a few coins there… you had become a sneaky thief, sleeping under bridges, in old shacks or minging stables to keep yourself warm at night. Ergo, there really wasn’t anything you could lose, except maybe your life but certainly, you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The harbour was in clear sight now, the saving ships pitching and tossing in the water. It seemed like with the wooden landing planks several of them were inviting you to take shelter on their deck, hiding until the danger was over and then maybe to set sail as a stowaway.

You chose the one that looked least like a ship of the Royal Navy and got ready to board it when suddenly, you heard a deep and sloppy voice behind you.

“No! Not good, not this one! On yer left!” Half turning, you glanced at a funnily running Jack Sparrow, who was pointing to… the Erudite. For real now? One of the most appreciated ships of the crown? You opened your mouth to protest but he already stormed past you, the landing plank wobbling and shrieking when he set foot on it and then quickly checkmated the two guards on deck.

Apparently, they were preparing to cast off for some unknown reason but it most certainly came in handy now.

Cursing, you ran after the pirate and bit your lower lip once you reached the deck, joining Jack at the rudder. He had prepared everything that still needed to be prepared so quickly you couldn’t even blink twice before it was all over. You knew nothing about ships but you even you understood that he really was an expert in his trade.

On your right, a loud crash followed by a splatter erupted when wood collided with wood and the landing plank dropped straight into the water, bringing the ocean between you and your persecutors. Several shots surged through the air as they grew smaller in the distance, shouting out orders to get another ship ready to follow you. You would be long gone until then and for now, you felt safe. Well, as safe as you could feel next to a real pirate.

It was like Jack had read your thoughts. Without a warning, he suddenly yanked you towards him, his arm snugging around your waist. He kissed you so roughly and fiercely that you forgot where up and down was, his dark beard scratching your chin.

What in the…? It wasn’t uncomfortable, much to your surprise. He did taste of rum, something you didn’t quite appreciate but oddly, his lips were soft as they pressed against yours and moved so gently you almost closed your eyes with relish. Stop! Focus!

Struggling, you pulled away, having him glare at you with brown puppy eyes and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“And who may you be then, luv? What do I call me saviour?”

“(Y/N). I’m… call me (Y/N).” You mumbled out of breath. There were dozens of more questions and answers unspoken in this very moment, questions that burned and itched on Jack’s tongue but—there was going to be sufficient time for that later, especially because when you had collected your composure again, you started chiding him downrightly.

“Why this bloody ship? Out of all ships in the docks, why this one?!”

“Looked prettier than the others,” he replied with a smirk, shrugging as if it was nothing to worry about at all. You clenched your fists.

“You could have killed us! A-and, and they will be searching for this ship, it’s conspicuous, have you thought of that?”

He grinned again shrewdly, showing off his golden teeth in the process. “It’s take what you can, that’s what pirates are all about, savvy? You should know that, given that you just voluntarily saved one.” He pointed out, his cheeky grin widening when you scoffed. It was like he was proud of you. Now that was what you got for saving the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. At least he always knew a way out. Well, almost.

“Go fetch me some rum, will you, luv? I guess you’ll be stuck with me for a while now, might as well enjoy it.” He mocked. Still, there was a tender tone in his voice.

Something about his wink that followed had your belly twist in pleasure. You felt yourself swallowing before you blinked frantically and forced your attention back to what was important—making it clear that you were not going to be his personal maid, even if he was the captain. He owed you his life, that was payment enough for that “pretty” ship he had just commandeered himself.

“This is a ship of the Royal Navy, you bugger. There ain’t no rum here.”

Jack’s upper lip twitched with displeasure as he gripped the rudder again, his other hand grabbing the compass he was carrying with him so he could determine the right course. Immediately, you wondered whether it was true. Did it really point to what you desired the most? You would have to find out. Like Jack had said—you were going to be stuck with him for a while. Unless of course he made you walk the plank or you decided to play mermaid and jump into the water in the middle of nowhere. Nothing you were planning on. Hopefully nothing he was planning on either.

“Well, first stop’s Tortuga then. I need to get meself some bloody rum. Almost being hanged really takes its toll on a man.”

Tortuga? Was he serious? What about you? When you had saved him from the Gallows, you hadn’t wanted to become a pirate yourself! Or… maybe you had? Wasn’t saving Jack from his death sentence an act of piracy as well?

Perhaps he would even kiss you again if you stayed with him to sail the seven seas. You were pretty sure not all pirates could kiss like that. Not that you had been kissed often before.

Still, you hesitated. “Tortuga? W-what about me?”

“You’re recruited. Welcome onboard, Miss (Y/N)! Ahead of me and you lies an exciting future!” The grin he gave you this time seemed sincere and honest, having the butterflies go wild in your stomach. You wanted to complain again, really. But somehow… you couldn’t. The stories hadn’t lied. Jack was indeed a charming… and handsome man. Maybe it wasn’t too bad, sailing with him.

Oh bloody hell, this was going to be a hell of a thrilling journey.

[vickyvioletdraws]

COMIC SINS - Ch. 24 Departer

Chapter 24. Departer

Deep in a snowy forest where the air nipped and the walls were dark, a distant echo illuminated the void. Muffled sounds gave life to an otherwise dead cavern. Passing the trees and the mounds of frost, two figures trudged through the thick snow.

An ivory monster had made his way through a mysterious passage, one that enabled him to traverse large distances throughout his prison. Enough to flee an imminent threat, but not enough to escape the Underground.

By his side walked a small human, their short legs struggling to get through the tall mounds of puffy ice. Deeply, they shivered, having a minor regret in wishing to come here, at least in comparison to their previous environment.

After several minutes of their trek, the young human perked up. “Where are we going?” Frisk asked politely, trying not to sound whiny. The small child was once again donning a pair of fuzzy slippers and a thickly lined hoodie-- armor for the winter that although it helped, was still not proper attire for this sort of weather.

“chill out pal, we’re almost there.” Sans replied, cracking a little joke along the way. His friend giggled at this, and he looked down at them, internally congratulating himself. “still got it.” He whispered to himself so quietly that not even his friend had heard it.

The pair had finally made their way to a small clearing, one that began with a sign that was just barely held up by its posts, as its fabric had many cuts throughout. “Welcome to Snowdin” could be read, despite what it had been through.

Just further up, Frisk could see familiar structures towering in the distance. “Oh, oh! I know this place!” They spouted, the name of where they were at the tip of their tongue. Two connected buildings came into focus, and Frisk could read their signs. “This is where we first landed,” They continued, pointing at a useless pile of snow on the ground. “And that’s the Inn where you slept for a while!” The energetic child gestured.

“heh heh,” The skeleton nodded. “good memory, kid.” He said, ruffling the human’s short hair.

Frisk ran up ahead just a few feet in front and turned around, walking backwards as to still converse with their friend. “So where are we headed? Is it the ‘Librarby’?” They prodded, making a little jab at the misspelled sign.

Sans could not help but crack a tiny smirk at the child’s antics. “we’re heading over to my place to pick up a couple things. you’ll see.” He insisted.

The two figures trotted along with a pace much faster than before. Together, Frisk and Sans passed several more buildings, all of which Frisk had familiarized themselves with, and all of which had external damage from a sharp object, including the aforementioned ‘Librarby’.

The human and skeleton stopped at a small residence. At his front door, the two entered the wrecked house, the locked door only opening for Sans. Groping the wall with his bony hand, the light switch somehow worked only for Sans as well. The main room lit up. Dirty clothes, broken furniture, and torn up bits of couch still decorated his home living room like a family of training dummies lived here. Loose cotton and evidence of knives included.

Sans let out a rather long and deep sigh. “i am way too tired for this.” He groaned, beholding the great mess that was now his. “alright. i’ll admit it.” He glared down at the floor right in front of him where a pair of socks lay that appeared to be in better condition than the ones he was wearing. “i’m also way too lazy to do anything about it, either.”

Even to the human, the room was quite the dreadful sight. Frisk reached up and tugged on his white t-shirt to acquire his attention. “I’ll help you clean up when you’re ready.” They smiled upward, weakly. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t like doing chores, either.”

The ivory skeleton chortled softly. “thanks, buddo.” He said sincerely. He gave the human a quick hair-ruffle before hobbling up the stairs. “i’ll be just a second.”

Frisk waited patiently as Sans expended effort climbing the stairs. The child observed the home in a new light-- literally-- and all the cuts and bruises throughout the walls appeared less scary to them. The couch still did not look that great, however. It was possible that the furniture was beyond repair.

Sans made his way inside the locked room on the far right of the hall, whose door had a frightening, gaping hole in the middle. The monster shut the door behind him. Frisk moved their head around trying to see inside through the big hole, but there was not much to see from that distance.

Some ruffling noises emitted from the mysterious room, but that was about it. Sans dug through junk hidden away for several minutes, and Frisk had no idea what it was that he even needed. Sheepishly, the child glared down at a piece of couch. It was just a corner, but it appeared rather comfy. Frisk sat down and thought. It’s just as comfortable as it looks.

A rattle of a door knob. The human jumped at the abrupt sound. Promptly, the chubby monster had gotten what he needed and was all ready to head out. The skeleton shut the door a little louder than intended. “i got a little something for ya to keep you warm.” He started up. Sans came down the steps almost excitedly and presented a crimson piece of fabric, one that was rather tattered and worn, and also a touch dirty towards the edges. The innocent one stood up to see what the fuss was about. The ivory monster got up close and wrapped it around the child nurturingly, the red scarf proving to be quite warm.

The little human stroked the fabric, testing its soft textures. Frisk beamed. “It’s really cozy!”

“i’m glad.” Sans began. “it was my brother’s. i know he would want you to have it.”

Clenching the scarf tightly, Frisk looked up in disbelief. “Really?! Are you sure…?” The skeleton closed his sockets and nodded gently. He could not have been more certain. “Thank you, Sans.” They mumbled shyly. “I love it.”

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The wind was howling, and the winter air was vastly more cold than anywhere else in all of Snowdin. The icy trail was narrow and surrounded on both sides by a rushing river. The air fell thinner in this part of the Underground, and the fog was so thick that the child could barely even see the bluffs on either side.

Leading the way, the ivory monster came to a halt. He stared at the ground for a moment. It was difficult to read him.

The small human shuffled in their stance. Frisk could not see very far from the little clearing where they stood. Clumps of snow blew through the air causing many flakes to get caught in their short hair. They imagined that they were likely sparkling in the mysterious winter scene. Still, the child wondered, why the two of them were out in the middle of nowhere where it grew more frigid.

Sans did not look up from the ground. He breathed in loudly. “so frisk...” The white monster started up mysteriously. “what do you know of funerals?” He subtly cleared his throat. “the traditions, i mean.”

Frisk was confused by the random question, but then they felt a sort of gripping sensation in their chest. They were getting an idea of what was going on. “Not much.” They replied uncomfortably. “I’ve never been to one myself, so I can’t say for sure.” They looked down at their slippers in deep thought. “People get put in a box and…?”

“well forget all that.” Sans interrupted. “we’re doing it the monster way.”

“S-so...” Frisk stuttered, trying to get a clear picture. “Is this… where...” They focused intently on the ground as Sans was. They tried to find the words, terrified they might bring up a sensitive topic.

“yeah.” Sans began to finish the sentence. “this is where he died.” Sans’ matter-of-fact statement hung in the air for a solid minute, the Underground’s temperature dropping rapidly. The skeleton exhaled suddenly as if he were holding his breath the entire time. The human most certainly was. “this is where we will hold the ceremony. it won’t be very much, though, i’m not good at these sort of things.”

Frisk shifted. “I’m sure he would appreciate whatever you have planned.” The child assured, trying to ease the tension in the atmosphere.

Sans pulled out a small object from inside his rib cage. It looked like a flower pot. “well, kid,” He began, winking suggestively at his small friend. “monster funerals, technically speaking… are cool as heck.” The human emitted a faint smile at this. The white monster continued. “when a monster passes on, their bodies turn to dust.”

Sans reached in and revealed a few more random items, laying them on the ground. The first one was a small cube, its surface adorned with geometric stickers in a variety of colors-- an object that the monsters certainly must have gotten from the Surface. Frisk recognized the puzzle block-- it was a rubik's cube. Next, Sans gently put down a children’s book with an image of a fluffy bunny on the cover, followed by a container of frozen leftovers, and a couple of action figurines that looked like dinosaur superheroes. Lastly in front of them all, he set up a standing picture frame which had an old wooden border with grains and knots. Behind the frame’s glass was an image of a monster that was quite tall and skinny, though it looked a lot like Sans. The monster’s smile was bright and true.

“we take that dust and spread it on that person’s favorite things.” The objects below were already coated in a fresh layer of snow. Sans placed one bony hand inside the flower pot and pulled something out-- a fistful of silver dust. “and then that person’s essence will live on in those things.” Ever so gently separating his phalanges, Sans cast out his arm so that the silver dust could fall down upon its final resting place.

A sharp, bubbly sniff cried out a few feet away. Frisk was in tears.

“h-hey kid!” Sans spat out when he finally noticed the human trembling uncontrollably. The child was desperately trying to hide their reddened face with the crimson scarf. “kid, what’s the matter?” He pleaded, setting the flower pot on the ground to attend to his friend. He gently held the child’s shoulders.

Frisk sniffed harder than before, but more openly. “I d-didn’t even know him… b-but… I feel like I d-do...” Their words growing less intelligible as they went on.  

Sans looked down at the snow beneath his bony feet. “well, kid, i think he knew you. the real you. and i know he’d be really proud of where you are today.”

Shaken, the small human looked up, clearly in need of blowing their stuffed up nose. “R-really…?”

He nodded his round skull. “i know it, frisk.” He comforted. Sans took a step back, picking up the flower pot once more. The pot was nearly empty. Most of its contents were already rested securely where it belonged. Sans smiled with certainty and raised the pot just above his head and turned it upside down. The remaining bits of dust fell atop his skull in a short puff. He laughed to himself quietly. “wow.” He exhaled in deep relief. “i never thought i would ever get to do that.”

Rubbing their chilled arms, Frisk tilted their head curiously. “Do what?”

“have papyrus’s funeral.” Sans stated, somehow at ease with the words. “all this time, since he died… i had to do what i could to protect what was left of the underground. it all went by so fast! everyone i knew disappeared, their dust slipping away from my grip before i even knew what happened. i had to be ready to stop the mass murders before it was too late.” The skeleton looked down at where his palm would be, its surface coated in silver dust. “and then the resets began. the not good kind. every morning i would wake up, ready to give that monster my all. ready to take back what was once mine. weeks. i hadn’t had sleep, i hadn’t had rest… my fate would have been doing that over and over for an eternity until i finally turned to dust. it was hell.”

Silence filled the room, the misty air went through the pair.

“until...” The skeleton ventured on. “i found you.” Sans laughed to himself weakly, white specs still fixated on the ground. “i suppose i have flowey to thank for all this, too… but you?” He tilted his skull up, just a bit, to look at Frisk. “you gave me hope. i can never thank you enough for that.”

“You’ve just been...” Frisk began. “Too busy to hold the ceremony.”

“yeah.” Sans concluded. “although. i bet that if i were the one who died… papyrus would have done the same.” He took a little moment to meditate on the thought. “heheheh, it would be well planned and extravagant, that’s for sure!” The two chuckled to each other at the notion.

Sans placed the pot on the ground in finality. Leaning back upward, the skeleton took notice to the large clumps of silver dust still clinging to his white shirt. Reaching up, he grabbed what he could and pointed it towards Frisk. The child smiled, covering their face with the already dusty scarf. Sans playfully flicked the lump of dust at the small one’s hair, and they giggled from the soft impact.

“he always believed you could do the right thing.” The monster assured the small human. Frisk jokingly shoved him away. Sans gazed longingly at his new friend, a being filled with so much innocence and purity. It reminded him of someone. “heh. he always believed in you.”

End.

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CHAPTER ARCHIVE

[hydrangeatee-blog]

Forget Me Not

Papyrus reconnects with a distant memory to find out if the great Papyrus is really so great...before it’s too late.

I wrote this with @crisiskode in mind because he is such an amazing person and I hope that as time goes on he can truly realize how much he means to me and so many others. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend to me,

And for everyone else reading, I hope this reminds you to dig deep and find your worth every day, no matter how daunting that may seem at times.

Was he...dreaming?

Last he remembered, Papyrus had been standing in a torrent of snow, confronting the human who’d committed quite a few dastardly deeds in the underground. Not even confronting, really, in spite of all that. He was forgiving them. A simple matter of reverse psychology, was it not? Provide the reaction opposite of what’s usually expected, and you’ll receive the same result. He whole-heartedly believed it. Believed in them. Even as the world spun, sinking to the ground as everything went dark, succumbing to immense pressure...cracking...shattering…

“Sans…?”

His body felt oddly light; in fact, he couldn’t feel much at all. He was fully in control of his actions and aware of his surroundings, yet what stretched out before him was unlike any previous figments of his imagination. It seemed as though the aforementioned light and darkness had split into two distinct paths; the first glistening bright like sunlight reflecting on snow, the other ebbing with impossible, muted colors and the same aura he’d felt right before--

This wasn’t a dream, was it?

Papyrus sank to his knees. “T-the human...would they have...e-even after I put my faith in them...? This can’t happen...w-who will take care of Sans? Who will make him pick up his sock, a-and feed him a healthy, balanced diet of spaghetti...who will read bedtime stories with him…”

Tears blurred his vision as the darkness began to encroach upon him in suffocating waves, whispers of ovations of self-destructive thoughts buzzing louder and louder in every direction. “ S-So then...this is it? Heh...good riddance, honestly. They’ll be...better off without me. Who am I kidding, Sans will thrive not having to live in my shadow...this will be the best thing to happen to the entire underground…”

A sensation like lava melting torturously slow crept along his body, eyes blacking out entirely, static crackling in his vision. “Forget...that I ever existed…”

The shadows began to shape and shift, as though eager to swallow him up, only to begin taking shape in a vaguely familiar form. “Attempting to erase your shortcomings from the universe, eh?” A wispy voice chuckled softly as its owner materialized before Papyrus. “Like father...like son.”

A pause. “W-who are you...?”

Gaster regarded the young skeleton with a sad smile. Look at how much he’d grown...he reached out and gingerly linked their digits together, peering at him through the perfectly matching holes in their hands. “I’ve missed you, so much…”

A goofy, lopsided grin...a long trench coat that may have been all the stars he’d ever dreamed of seeing strung together...Papyrus regarded him like a distant de ja vu that faded quickly as it came. “I...don’t understand…”

Of course he wouldn’t. Glimmering pupils of otherwise empty eyes averted themselves in thought. If they stayed here together, he wouldn’t be alone anymore...after all, they were so much alike...too much alike. No. That wouldn’t be right. His right pupil flickered purple, magic trickling along Papyrus’ body. “You may not know me, but I know too much about you…” he said as the corruption faded from Papyrus, “to allow you to travel the same path I did.” Before the other could protest, he grasped his hand once more.

Nipping cold, playful snowflakes tickled Papyrus’ face as children laughed and scurried about. “W-we’re back in Snowdin Town?”

Gaster nodded shortly. “In a manner of speaking. I have taken you back in time so that you may observe and draw your own conclusions, hopefully based on logic rather than emotion.”

The same expression of a lost puppy seemed permanently glued to the younger skeleton’s features now, but he obeyed and fell quiet, listening to the idle chatter of some passerby.

“Did ya hear about those wacky skeletons that barged into town? Er, was it last week, last month? Time seems to fly by with some new shenanigan every day, eh?” said an elderly bunny to a youth.

“I know, right! Everything used to be so boring and dull. And like, that one big guy is such a cutie!” replied the youngster, a sparkle in her eyes.

Big guy? Obviously it was Sans; he always did have a way of attracting--

“Er, heightwise or widthwise big guy?”

“Heightwise, of course!”

Papyrus gasped, clasping his hands over his mouth. “R-really? Me...cute? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before…”

Gaster chuckled, nodding shortly and guiding him along once more, this time with less resistance. They wandered undetected through gushing waterfalls and sweltering canyons bursting with lava, and sure enough there was no shortage of hubbub regarding the mysterious skeleton brothers. Of course, not every bit of it was positive…

“That Sans sleeps at his post too often, I mean seriously! You walk by and he’s just snoozing away! What’s with that?” grouched a sea urchin. “The Papyrus lad, though, I hear he’s always out and at it, working to serve our King! We need more young people who appreciate the value of hard work!”

“Hm, how interesting. And here you thought your effort wasn’t noticed at all...Papyrus?” Upon the awkward silence that ensued, Gaster turned to Papyrus, who was clenching his fists as his eyes watered.

“That’s not true...of course I would nag him time and time again, but I know he was always pulling his weight and then some...he has sentry stations in all the districts, of course he’d be tired! I...I just...thought he could do better, still…” Tears fell down his face, and he buried his head in his hands. “I’m sure without me around, he’ll do much better...he won’t have so much pressure on him and he can truly shine...and be who he wants to be…”

A breathy sigh escaped Gaster’s mouth. “Come. I’ve one more thing to show you.”

The scene shifted around them, changing from peaceful surroundings to screaming and shouting figures charging about with spears and torches and magic flying in all directions. Dust surrounded by armor littered the ground; a Royal Guard sat crying, clutching one of the metal hunks as a monster charged at him, raising their spear and…

“U-Undyne? But that’s...is this..the Royal Guard? T-they’re all...what’s going on?!” Papyrus trembled, feeling sick to his core.

“Heh...good. That’s the last of them here.” Undyne yanked her spear out of the now lifeless armor. She closed her eyes, a pained grimace overtaking her features as she fell to one knee. “Papyrus...I’m sorry. I know this is not what you would have wanted...but no one is safe anymore. We cannot trust them any longer…” Her fists balled, and she turned to the mass of troops assembled before her. “Because if HIS death will not be avenged by the Queen...if SHE passes off even a single homicide as a reason to show more LOVE…” She punched the air, her wild crimson hair blowing fiercely in the wind. “THEN LET US TAKE ALL OF OUR L.O.V.E TO HER AND END THIS! ONCE AND FOR ALL! FOR PAPYRUS!”

“FOR PAPYRUS!!” A defeaning roar rose from the crowd. As they charged after their leader, Papyrus fell to his knees. “P-please...tell me this is just a bad dream…”

Wordlessly, they drifted through time and space once more until they reached the door to the ruins.

Sans stood there, staring back as though he were looking straight through Papyrus’ soul. He addressed the army behind them, “Stay back. She’s mine.”

Papyrus shouted at him to stop, but he summoned one, two, three Gaster Blasters and destroyed the door in a flurry of light. “Heh. So it was you all this time.” His left eye turned blue. “Good to know you make bad jokes about everything. Including people’s lives.”

Toriel stood facing away from him, her posture calm and dignified as ever, hands clasped in front of her. But her voice sounded broken. “What you have done...is inexcuseable. I only wanted for human and monster kind to be united again. Violence only creates more violence…”

“You were a COWARD and ran away from everything! You sold out EVERYONE the moment you said that we should just...move on and forgive and forget!” Sans shook, his bones rattling. “Being a pacifist will only get you and people you love KILLED! But you never cared about that, did you? All that mattered was preserving the memory of some kid who cost you EVERYTHING. You know what it’s like to lose a child...yet you don’t even CARE if it’s someone’s brother? Well it’s the same thing to me!”

Papyrus began to cry again, racking sobs shaking his body. “S-sans...I’m so sorry…”

Toriel turned on him, tears and rage in her own eyes. “Everything I have done was an attempt to save EVERYONE! YOU ALL were cowards! You killed innocent people for petty revenge! And you...where were you all this time as the human you hate so much roamed free? You were too weak to do anything about it, and now you take out your pain and humiliation on those who have only ever wanted to protect you! You’re just like...no, you’re WORSE than ASGORE!”

“SHUT UP!” A circle of Gaster Blasters surrounded him. He threw his hand out. Papyrus ran to him.

“S-Sans, please don’t do this! This isn’t you! Don’t let me turn you into a murderer!”

But no one could hear him cry. No one could see him as he reached out to hold his brother, his ghostly hand passing right through him. Toriel stood proud, not even flinching as the attack raced right at her…

“STOP!!”

They were at the crossroads of light and darkness once more.

Papyrus sat crumpled over, sobbing like a small child. “W-why would you show me that…?”

Gaster stared a moment before kneeling next to him. “I think you know the answer. You’ve known all this time, but you keep lying to yourself. Do you really believe, after all of that…” He gently lifted Papyrus’ chin so that he faced him. “...that you are entirely worthless?”

Papyrus grabbed Gaster and hugged him close. “I-I don’t care about that! If I’m important enourgh to start a war, I don’t care about being famous anymore! I just want everyone to be happy!” He sniffled, burying his head against Gaster’s shoulder. “B-but none of that matters now! It’s too late…”

Surprised by the initial contact, Gaster smiled slightly and returned the embrace, enveloping him in his coat of stars. “Given the right circumstances, it is never too late.”

Several reluctant pauses later, Gaster pulled away after giving Papyrus a gentle nudge towards the light.

“W-wha?” He tried to move towards him, but he could not. His body was floating away, while Gaster began to assimilate back into the darkness. “W-wait! What about you? P-please don’t go, I was just starting to remember you!”

A chuckle resonated around them as the stars on his cloak spread out onto the horizon. “If there is one thing to remember about me…” His form disappeared and became one with the darkness that shrank and dimmed as Papyrus grew closer to the light. “...it’s to never be like me.”

Papyrus reached out his hand helplessly. “N-no, it doesn’t have to be like this! Please...G...Ga…”

“Take care of yourself, Papyrus.”

“DAD!!”

Papyrus’ eyes flew open. Light shone through the hole in his outstretched hand. His chest heaved up and down, tears dripping down his face. Downstairs, the sounds of a dog barking and his brother laughing rang out clear as day.

After getting dressed, he quietly descended the staircase and entered the kitchen. Sans looked up, the usual lackadaisical smile on his face. “Mornin, bro. No grand entrance, eh? Didn’t sleep well....?”

Papyrus hugged his brother tightly. “Thank you, Sans...for everything you do. It’s truly an honor to have a brother like you.”

Sans was startled, but hugged Papyrus closer anyway. “Heh. Thanks. Same to you, couldn’t ask for a more amazing bro.”

Papyrus breathed deeply, allowing himself to smile. His hand ventured to the back of his neck; when he brought it back around, his glove had slipped off a bit. He quickly covered the hole that peeked out.

It was just a dream, right?