#He looks so good in a poncho I need him fr fr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seth-burroughs · 1 year ago

Note

for the ask game how about both seth and yomi?

MY BOYS >:))))))) THE BOYS

Seth:

favorite thing about them

I can't. fucking. The poncho that tricked me into believing he's a short king but he's like fucking 5'9. The glowy hood belts. How he looks like he's gonna keel over any minute. The bouquet. Him needing to use a megaphone since he just mumbles me too buddy I was pointing at the screen saying "me too buddy" when Yomi was being Yomi about his voice ME TOO BUDDY (it's fine I forgave him). Him taking bribes from the Nail Man because his boss told him to and how he saw nothing suspicious about it. Him ALSO trying to make a deal with the detectives when they get close to finding out. Him being a literal saint compared to all the other peacekeepers (what is wrong with them) and kiiiiiiiind of actually doing his job. His monocle. That shit eating smile. The green. Him existing in (and making) the best chapter in RC. Him getting hit with a helmet so hard he bleeds (guess by who). Him getting progressively less intimidating and more pathetic and cringefail with every scene he's in. The concerning Burroughs family loading screen trivia. Him being good at chess and liking wind instruments. Him hating untuned instruments. His birthday being in pride month. His winx enchantix form in the ML. Should I keep going

least favorite thing about them

How he appeared completely unannounced out of fucking nowhere to be the best character in the game in like 4 scenes total and they then just. hauled him off.

The disrespect is unbelievable I was in denial the whole game every chapter I was waiting for him to show up again. He's not even the only peacekeeper that shows up out of nowhere and then we never see them again, hello Swank Guillaume & Dominic. Dare I say MDA:RC should have been longer - not as in, more cases but like. More downtime between chapters to get to know the Guys more. Please

favorite line

"You need to get your watch repaired. Oh dear... the watchmaker is currently detained as a suspect. Just throw away that piece of trash then." you just KNOW he was so fucking satisfied with himself after that he was giggling internally the whole time. What if I killed him

brOTP

Seth & Guillaume nominated for Kanai Ward's most toxic friendship. I hope you die I hope we both die (platonic)

OTP

Seth x therapy and a different job best ship

nOTP

Seth/Yakou I just don't vibe 😔

random headcanon

Most polish man in Kanai Ward he pickles fucking everything. Goes mushroom picking every autumn and dries all the boletes and boletuses to use for pierogi filling. Always makes his own pierogi store bought are disgusting. Puts atrocious amounts of frozen dill on all his surówkas and mashed potatoes. Cucumber soup enjoyer. All of these are about food. I love food I wish I could eat it

unpopular opinion

Don't have any. I agree with mostly everything they're are saying about him here I approve of the RC tumblr community Seth opinions👍👍

song i associate with them

Hmmmmm.......... Sometimes by Nick Lutsko - You see with Yomi I could make an entire playlist, but there is literally only 1 song in the whole world (that isn't like. an instrumental lmao) that reminds me of Seth. My music taste is fucking Sethless.

favorite picture of them

I don't care what the masses say his phantom fucking slayed. People are being so cruel to him fr calling him cabbage head. I mean they're right but

Yomi:

favorite thing about them

How he's so terrible and evil and so fucking sexy about it. Every single time he appears on screen gets a fake zilch zombie esque response from me

least favorite thing about them

I legitimately cannot think of a single bad thing about Yomi

favorite line

I have three!

1. "That's even more impossible than a chance meeting between an umbrella and a sewing machine on an operating table!" what is wrong with him.

2. Not a single line but like. The conversation he had with Yuma when they were alone for a few minutes after we talked to Huesca where Yuma just tries to break the awkward silence with "umm" and Yomi just hits him with the "WHY DO YOU EXIST. WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE"

3. [after Makoto says he has a duty to watch over Amaterasu and Kanai Ward as a whole] "... What? What have you ever done for Kanai Ward? All you do is look down on it from high. The peaceful order you see when you gave upon it is thanks to my righteous justice. I'm the one guiding these lazy fools! I brought civilization to this place! I don't need you messing with the proper order of my city!" :]] I'll leave it without comment go make up your own mind about it~~

brOTP

Him and Fake Zilch. Not because I see them as platonic but because Fake Zilch was like... literally the only bro option that exists for him lmao

OTP

How dare you make me choose between Fake Zilch, Makoto & Yuma

nOTP

Yomi x Martina. I remember when he got introduced and right after he sent Seth to the electric chair, spat on Yakou then left I thought to myself "well at least he's a big wife guy" hoo boy.

random headcanon

Has two beds in his apartment. One shaped like a cool racecar where he has sex with Martina, and one three days grace themed four story bed where he has sex with everyone else. He doesn't sleep in either of them because rest is for soyboys and omegas. Speaking of omegas h- *audio cuts off*

unpopular opinion

Yomi haters are WEAK as FUCK Also he should be allowed to do whatever he wants actually I cheered and clapped when he hit Vivia right on the face with his whip you and me both Yomi you and me both.

song i associate with them

I have an entire playlist for that lmao so I'll limit myself to five: Dear Dictator by Saint Motel, Autotheist by Baby Bugs, Digital Silence by Peter McPoland + The Reason They Hate Me by Daughters. If we're talking about his relationship to Makoto then Want by Recoil and Men by The Dodos are PEAK makoyomi I beg you to listen to them. Pleas e

favorite picture of them

Sigh *pulls out the Yomi folder and starts picking them out extremely carefully*

#mine #ask #rain code #seth burroughs #yomi hellsmile #ask game

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afarcryfrommymain · 2 years ago

Note

Western AU for Aphid?

Ngl it took me a minute to understand the ask buuuuttttt

-bounty hunter/vigilante Aphid because I don't think he'd be sherrifs department in anything but like, the base game (we are acab in the house ok?) Hes got a strong sense of Justice though and isn't afraid to take it into his own hands when necessary (though he tends to do things as humanely as possible, dead or alive? Bring em alive. Managed to get out of consequences for their actions? Put em down clean.)

-Hope County would probably be a town or general area that he hangs out in the most mostly camps on the outskirts but has been known to stay in the inn during winter months. Probably the only place hes good and proper friendly with the sherrifs office in mainly because the Deputys are cool people, Joey has that similar sense of Justice while Staci is just plain fun to talk with.

-Broski gets a poncho because I desperately need to put him flowy garments to show movement, its an infection of the brain. I need it, also bandana long hair that sorta thing but thats the normal for him. He gets a lil hat though, he deserves a cowboy hat. His horse is a roan Ardennais (big bulky fellas with the fluffy hooves) he got way too attached to even though its not made for running but he loves her anyway I don't have a name but yeah.

-ok on to like,, cult stuff because i just googled horses for 20 minutes, cults and other such new religious movements weren't uncommon back then so I can imagine Edens Gate moves into his little town that he's taken to hanging out in and hes not happy about it. Especially when they start kidnapping people. He asks the sherrifs department to help him take Joseph Seed in and they get fucked over in the process, similar to the base game.

-ok now we getting into Apharky (fuck thats terrible. anyway) Sharky is setting shit on fire and similar to cannon, Aphid thinks its a smoke signal for help and rushes over only for them to see this random ass pyro (who to his credit is also fighting Edens gate) and proceeds to start bringing him everywhere. Gay ass cowboys fr.

-in terms of the seed siblings (swinging wildly because i can) thank you for allowing me to have the image of Faith Seed in an old cowboy era dress i think she'd look fuckin sick and that makes me very excited for her. Side tangents about outfits aside because this universe Aphid has weird thoughts about justice I imagine that unlike in game Aphid this one feels significantly less bad about all the killing he has to do because in his head its like "they are hurting people, this is preventing future people from dying" which means that Seed sibling fights that would leave him shaken usually doesn't phase him as badly EXCEPT for Jacob.

-something about Jacob being able to force his hand into hurting an ally really fucks with his head. Wracking him with a lot of guilt, in his head if he was on the right path would he have been forced into hurting innocents? Does this make him guilty? Which is a fun mindset that is later exploited by Joseph Seed

I don't have anything else tbh these are just random stream of consciousness things because I never rly think about western au stuff for this character thanks for the ask though! This was fun!

#aphid hernandez #im talking now #au talks #asks!#this genuinely was fun though #far cry 5 #im definitely not procrastinating on a history paper primise #anyway if this was bad sorry

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sockablock · 4 years ago

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When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the concerns of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even stranger than Caleb himself...

(start) - (previous) - (next)

Chapter 2: A Name to the Face

The sun lanced arcs across Caleb’s face as he set his phone down on the nightstand, and yawned.

He’d gotten used to sleeping in strange places during the last few years of his life, and there was a part of him that missed the coziness of his room back in his and Nott’s apartment. But the other part of him, namely the part comprised of bruises from too-narrow walls—relished in this chance to stretch out a little.

Eventually, he managed to sit up. The mattress did not dip sullenly with his weight, indicative of its newness and quality.

He glanced around. The door was closed, though Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. Then again, mundane cats were already hard enough to confine; as a feline of the fey persuasion, Frumpkin went where Frumpkin pleased.

Caleb took his sweet time making the bed, adjusting the blinds, peering out the window over quiet streets, before eventually rifling through his cardboard boxes for something proper to wear. He also made a mental note to, at some point, ask Mr. Thelyss how the laundry worked.

Then he straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and wandered out into the kitchen.

—

Jester was nose-deep in a box of cinnamon rolls when Beauregard emerged from the shower. Peals of steam curled past the doorframe and dissipated out into the hallway.

“I thought those were supposed to last us the week,” Beau said when she noticed her roommate. “Didn’t we decide we wouldn’t go back to the bakery until Thursday?”

“Oh, but Beau,” icing shimmered in the corner of Jester’s mouth. “Beau, they’re just so tasty. I can’t resist.”

Beauregard pulled the towel off her head and gave her hair one last muss-up. Then she slung herself backwards into a chair and stole some frosting.

“Fair enough,” she licked a finger. “Just be sure to save something for Yasha when she gets back.”

“Back?” Jester’s cheerful demeanor vanished. “Oh, no, did she leave again? I thought she was done doing that!”

“Oh, no she didn’t run off, I think she just went to some errands, or something?” Beau scratched the side of her head. “She mentioned something about seeing a butcher.”

“Oh.” Jester relaxed. “Well that’s alright, then. Though we don’t really cook much.”

“Maybe she’s trying something new. It’s better than eating rats all the time, right?”

Jester gave this due consideration. “I think she only did that once. And then Fjord threw up, so she decided to stop.”

“Hm,” Beau shrugged. “I guess that’s nice of her. Oh, hey, speaking of stopping, what the hell is up with Caleb? Has he responded? With pictures and actual information?”

Jester groaned. “He’s being a real butt about it. He’s obviously there, but he isn’t sending us anything good.”

Beau raised a cinnamon roll. “The bastard.”

—

In the light of day, Mr. Thelyss’s kitchen gleamed with tidiness and disuse. In fact, it seemed like only the coffeemaker and microwave ever got any attention from their owner.

Caleb added another step to his mental moving day to-do-list: find the nearest grocery store and get some cereal. And coffee. And maybe a loaf of bread, if he was feeling extravagant.

He settled instead for pouring himself a glass of water and vowing that he would at least pick up lunch once he actually ventured outside. He slid into the kitchen, found a neutral-looking glass cup, and filled it up in the sink.

When he turned, he realized that something was different about the counter.

The little box of cheesecake was gone.

There was a note left, however. It read: Thank you very much, Mr. Widogast.

So, Caleb thought to himself. This meant that his mystery landlord had come home at some point in the night. And…as his gaze drifted past the kitchen and over to the front door of the apartment…yes, there in the foyer was a pair of shoes and a fine, but thin, black cloak.

Caleb had never seen anything like it before. It seemed as if the pattern had been designed to almost be worn like some kind of long poncho. Its hem brushed just over the floor.

What kind of person would wear something like this? The amused thought of vampire briefly flickered through his mind, but he shook it off and chalked it up to spending too much time with Jester.

He glanced back at the note. Something in him also registered: charmingly polite.

He shook his head. Speaking of Jester, he still had a promise to fulfill…

—

“Fjord, those are ugly.”

“What? I think they look nice—”

“Nice won’t cut it! I need something amazing! It’s been months since I’ve last seen Yeza. I have to really blow him away.”

“Look, what you see is what we’ve got. And anyway, what’s wrong with Delphiniums—”

Nott was standing on a small turquoise stool that some of the more vertically-challenged customers of the Blooming Grove required to reach the counter. Her finger was swaying dangerously underneath the nose of a long-time friend and even longer-time frenemy, Fjord, currently on register duty.

All around them, the sweet and mellow scent of dozens upon dozens of coastal flowers twirled and trilled and danced through the air. Large windows set into the pale green walls let in sunlight and a view of the gardens out back.

“They’re blue!” Nott screeched. “I don’t want blue, Yeza’s going to think I’m not happy to see him!”

“Everyone likes blue,” Fjord said defensively. “Just look at Jester. She’s practically got a fan club. Fine, fine,” he added, when her expression didn’t change, “I can do you some roses—”

“Roses are cliché.”

“They’re a goddamn symbol of love, Nott.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t just want a symbol of love, I want a symbol of…of passion. Of devotion. Of l—”

“Look, just wait a bit, and Caduceus will be back. He’s the one who actually knows the names of all these things,” Fjord sighed. “He’ll be able to tell you if those even are Delphiniums.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“How have you managed to keep this job, Fjord?”

“I don’t have to help you, you know.”

“Technically, I think you d—"

And then, their phones buzzed.

—

Nott glanced back at Fjord.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?”

Fjord shrugged. “Let’s just see what he says.”

Nott groaned. “It’ll probably be hours until we find out.”

—

“He’s going to die tonight, then,” said Beau, kicking off her sneakers. The front door shut behind her with a click. “That’s, like, the first rule to committing a crime. Don’t let them see your face.”

“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Jester said. Now she was in the living room, sprawled across the couch. “It’s like…a forbidden meeting. Maybe he’ll never find out what Essie looks like. Isn’t that sad?”

“Essek,” Beau corrected, and set her keys aside. “And I don’t see what’s so sad about that.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jester lavished in her sigh. “The saddest and loneliest kind of thing. To never see who you’re living with? If you can’t even put a face to the name, you might as well be sharing your house with a ghost.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “That’s…a little dramatic, but I see what you mean. Anyway, this is a point against the guy. In my books, that is. And I’m keeping track.”

“Oh? How many points does he have?”

Beau joined her on the couch and crossed her arms. “Not many. He’s mysterious, and weird. Those are negatives. Standoffish, if he didn’t even greet Caleb on the first day. And if he isn’t a criminal, and is actually renting out a place that cheap, he must be a total idiot. Or desperate.”

“For what?” Jester asked.

She shrugged. “Who knows? The company?”

—

Essek was, as a matter of fact, quite desperate. Desperate for another five minutes of sleep.

It was now long after the Mighty Nein had given up on their interrogation, though he was not aware of this. Instead, what was most on his mind was the strange…the odd vibrating right next to his head.

Blindly, he reached out to slap his alarm. His hand connected, but the noise did not stop.

Then he realized that it was coming from the other side of the bed.

He shuffled around to take a peek.

An eye was staring back at him. Large and blue.

“What in the name of the L—”

The cat yawned, and its mouth stretched open to reveal rows of teeth.

Essek hesitated. He rubbed his face.

“How did…what is…”

And then the puzzle pieces slid into place.

He racked his brain for the name.

“F…Fr…Frumpkin?” he guessed.

The cat yawned again. This time, it followed the gesture up with a mrpf, and unfurled its body. And stretched.

“Hm,” said Essek. “He did…warn me, but…I am not sure if I approve of you coming in here like this. Without announcement, especially.”

Frumpkin stared back up at him. He tilted his head and put on his most endearing expression.

“Well,” Essek relented in the onslaught of this, “at least you don’t seem to be the kind that sheds. Actually…”

He leaned in as close as he dared, a pair of icy eyes tracking his every movement.

“…actually, I’m not at all sure what kind of kitty you are. Your ears are…very long. And your markings are…”

And then Essek realized.

“A familiar?”

Frumpkin blinked at him.

—

Caleb had found the grocery store on his second try, and had also made note of a bookstore and bus stop on the way there. Now, after a long day of scouting out the neighborhood, he was back in his bedroom again, sorting clothes. No use in holding off, after all, not even if it made him feel slightly strange to be putting all his things away in someone else’s bedroom.

He picked up a t-shirt and examined the back. STAFF, it read. He had no idea for what. The Broad Barn’s secondhand clothing pile was vague at best and hazardous at worst.

Another part of Caleb, the part not fully consumed by the current task at hand, registered the faintest sound outside. It was ruled out as being not important.

Caleb produced another shirt. This one had a picture of a cat on it, red beams of light shooting out from its eyes. This had been a New Dawn present from—surprising to everyone—Yasha.

It had thus far found a long and happy life as the top half of Caleb’s pajamas. He’d tried to wear it in public once, and been bullied mercilessly by Beauregard.

On the other side of the room, past the drawers and the bed, was a small folding table that had been set up by Essek, likely as a desk. It was the sort of low contraption that eliminated any possibility of chairs, but it made a lot of sense for apartment living and was sized well enough for sitting on the floor. It was miles above Caleb’s old arrangement, a piece of plywood on a milk crate.

Right now, this new desk was covered in reams upon reams of notebook paper. Contrary to expectation, however, this paper was not lined with the standard narrow rule of most academic stationary. Instead, a pattern of lines and circles extended out from the center of the page, covering every inch in an odd spiral. Dozens upon dozens of these sheets were strewn about now, with hasty pencil-markings splattered across the page.

A particularly keen-eyed individual might have noticed that some of the markings were crossed-out. Redoubled, re-arranged, re-placed, or removed.

A particularly keen-eyed individual with the right kind of background would have noticed immediately that many of these runes were transmutative.

Back on his side of the bed, Caleb was humming.

—

When the cat—the familiar, likely a fey one, at that—did not decide to claw Essek’s eyes out, he gingerly picked it up under its forearms and carried it out of his bedroom.

He entered the living room, and saw that it was empty. The curtains were drawn open, however, and at this point the late-summer sun was just beginning to crest low over the horizon.

Essek raised an eyebrow at Frumpkin. “So. Where is your master, hm?”

Frumpkin meowed. It meant absolutely nothing to Essek, but he nodded anyway on principle.

“I understand that you are…well, from what I think I know about ordinary cats, you might like to wander around. But the same rules that apply to your wizard apply to you as well, okay?”

He walked Frumpkin into the living room and put him down on the couch.

“I would appreciate it if you did not enter my bedroom without invitation. The study as well, yes? Meow if you understand.”

Frumpkin stared at him. Frumpkin opened his mouth. Frumpkin closed it again.

It was a vague enough gesture that Essek could not tell if this was a response. He sighed.

“This is why I never bothered with getting one of you, you know. And I’m not even talking about the food bills. Er…do you eat?”

Frumpkin repeated the gesture. Essek repeated it back at the cat in a burst of childish impulse, then caught himself.

Gods, talking to Verin yesterday must have put him in an odd mood. And his brother had kept going on and on about life back in Rosohna, about how wonderful it is, Essek, how much Mother misses you, Essek, how I wish you’d visit, Essek—all that nostalgia couldn’t be good for the mind. Especially when unsolicited.

Still, this did not stop him from checking his messages in the kitchen while he waited for his morning—afternoon—evening—coffee to brew. In the background, Frumpkin rolled over on the sofa. Verin had mentioned something that he’d wanted to talk about, that he’d send over later…

Essek opened up their conversation. Then he scowled.

—

A solitary figure stalked through the dimming streets of Nicodranas. She stretched, working out the knots in her back, upper arms, feeling the scabs on her knuckles and their sting.

She grinned, wide and toothy, in the sunset.

Unconventional, but it worked.

—

Caleb had a perfect memory, and never forget anything. As such, the three core tenets of his tenancy in this apartment were virtually scored into his mind.

Be quiet. Be organized. And do the recycling.

Now he stood outside the apartment complex. The winding streets formed a gentle little plaza where the neighboring buildings all shared an open space, which included the public recycling cans.

There hadn’t actually been that much to take out, aside from an empty carton of ramen, a few cat food tins, and some assorted items that Mr. Thelyss must have left behind last night. Still, Caleb had wanted to prove how serious he was about following the Code of Conduct, and so had made the journey downstairs to be a responsible citizen.

The breeze wound around his ankles. Nearby, a few kids were running around with their mother, and a jogger moseyed past their street. It was a peaceful sight, underscored by the distant call of gulls and a setting sun.

Caleb had just nudged open the lid of the recycling bin when the shouting began.

Actually, it was less of a shouting and more of a heated argument, augmented by the harsh syllables of a language that Caleb did not recognize.

If he had, it would have sounded something like this:

“—impossible! I refuse. I did not give my permission—”

“Permission? Why would she need your permission—”

“Because it is my house! And this is my city—”

“Your city? Brother, you’ve only been there a few months—”

“It’s been a year and a half, Verin. A peaceful year and a half, mind.”

“Really? Well, I am certain it will remain that. And anyway, she’s not even going there for you.”

“Hah! I have a feeling that she is visiting Nicodranas expressly to do so. The gala is just an excuse for her to come here and poke into everything I’m doing—”

“Look, look, don’t shout at me. I am just the messenger. If you’re so upset, go and call Mother—”

Caleb swung the bag into the can. As he closed the lid, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself surreptitiously scanning the perimeter with the universal creep of eavesdroppers everywhere.

Quickly, he found the source of the sound. There was a figure standing in front of his building, pacing back and forth underneath the awning, waving one hand around in frustration. The shadows prevented him from getting a better look, but the figure seemed lithe, and very annoyed.

Caleb would have to slip past him to get back inside.

Tactically, he pulled out his phone and pretended to be incredibly engrossed with its contents. Luckily, it seemed to work—and out of the corner of his eye he even noticed the figure hastily stepping aside.

Then, unluckily, the figure followed him.

Caleb didn’t dare look up. But he could feel the stranger’s presence trail him all the way into the elevator, then settle down next to him as the doors slid shut.

Caleb went to hit the number four. So did the stranger. Their fingers collided.

“Ah—"

“Scheisse, I am sor—”

And then he stopped.

Caleb Widogast was decidedly not a man of the world. He’d never left the continent of Wildemount, for instance, nor could he claim to have seen everything it had to offer. But he had fancied himself rather well-read, and believed that he perhaps had experienced more than the average person.

This was the first time in his life that he’d seen a dark elf.

He knew that they existed, of course, but in the way that he knew the names of far-off places, as distant trivia irrelevant to his life. He knew, for example, that they were native to Xhorhas, and that many of their societies lived underground. He knew that their closest civilization was ruled by a powerful queen. He also knew that in less-polite circles, some Empire elites still believed them to be backwater savages and monsters.

This one was wearing a green t-shirt. His hair was a messy sweep to one side.

“—ry.” He finished, as quickly as he could.

The dark elf shrugged. His eyes—a pale slate gray—took in Caleb’s appearance, then the number they’d both pressed.

“I do not recall ever seeing you,” the elf said. His voice was still a little strained, as if something from before—that argument, perhaps—was bothering him immensely.

“I, ah, I’m new,” Caleb said.

The elf raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

Then he turned back around to stare at the door. Caleb was more than happy not to engage. He just hoped he hadn’t stared long enough to offend a potential neighbor.

The elevator rose three floors. On the fourth one, it stopped.

He quickly ducked out, sandals pattering on the ground, and it was only once he’d gotten to the door of his apartment and started to punch in the code that he realized the elf was still behind him, still standing there, still annoyed, and so he turned—

—

“Excuse me,” said Essek tetchily. “Why are you entering my home?”

The human blinked.

“Er…this is…where I live.”

“What? But—”

For the second time that day, Essek realized.

“Um,” said Caleb Widogast. “Would your last name...happen to be ‘Thelyss’?”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

#critical role #critrole #critfic #fic #shadowgast #fanfiction #long post #REALLY LONG POST #im so sorry if the break doesn't work dfhgjk #fanfic #cr2 #the mighty nein #modern au #now what are the chances of that #jay writes #text

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gatheringfiki · 5 years ago

Photo

The following ficlet was written by @linane-art based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Teen.

You can also read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

---

Fili found the freeloader in the morning.

He was fetching the firewood from the loft when he discovered the man curled up on the floor, head pillowed on top of his backpack, his winter coat doubling up as a cover.

How the guy had made it into the house, past Fili, and into the loft, he had no idea. Nobody sneaked up on Fili.

He was used to people trying to trespass on his land, but for someone to break into his home, the epicentre of the entire operation – that was ballsy. It never even occurred to Fili to set up alarms around his own fence.

He carefully edged around the guy and went about picking the logs he wanted.

If the stranger managed to find his way in, perhaps he’d also manage to find his way out. Or better yet, perhaps he’d turn out to be a figment of Fili’s imagination - come to think of it, it had been some time since he’d spoken to another human being.

Annoyingly, the freeloader stubbornly remained in his spot.

Fili huffed and prodded him with the tip of his boot.

“Mmnnn.”

Another prod.

“’S it breakfast time?” came a mumbled question.

“No.” It was nearing ten. Fili had his breakfast hours ago.

The man yawned, stretched and peered up blearily at Fili.

Fili peered right back.

“… Lunch?”

“Get out of my house,” Fili cut to the chase before they could get through any other meal times.

“Your house?! This isn’t the hostel?” The guy sat up.

Fili pointed behind himself. “Three miles up that way.”

“Oh. No wonder the service last night was terrible.”

Fili twitched.

The stranger’s mind caught up with his mouth. “I mean –“

“Out.”

“Right!” The freeloader scrambled to his feet and set about collecting his scattered belongings.

Fili waited patiently until the guy was climbing down the ladder (Why the loft?! How did he even find the ladder in the first place?!) before throwing a suspicious glance around the cluttered space.

He hoped to hell this was the only pixie he had acquired.

Downstairs the pixie theory gained credibility, when the two of them discovered that the gentle snowfall of the morning had turned into a vicious blizzard. It figured the little shit could control the weather.

“It’s alright! I have a poncho! Just let me –“ the guy started digging through his backpack.

Fili eyed him. He didn’t look like someone who could have possibly made it this far North. No hiking or weather-proof gear, just a pair of jeans that clung to his legs like second skin, a battered pair of sports shoes, a fur-lined coat and a stretched scarf which, Fili was willing to bet, he’d knitted himself.

Fili sighed and headed for the kettle. “You can stay,” he informed the leprechaun, pulling out a mug. “Until this blows over.”

The smile that lit up the previously morose expression did something to Fili’s insides. It was unnerving and unnecessary.

“Thank you so much! I’m Kili, by the way!” the freeloader offered.

At least if Fili had to prosecute, he now had the first name.

---

By noon Fili decided that he’d been cursed. There must have been something in the lore about pixies that said: ‘so many years of misfortune, if you invite them to stay at your home.’

The blizzard only intensified.

Kili, much like the blizzard, intensified too.

No more coffee for you, Fili thought, watching the guy poke at the perfectly stocked fire inside the wood burner, then move to take in the frankly very limited view of the lake outside, and then again to inspect the décor of Fili’s home.

“Ooooh, are you with the mountain rescue?!” Kili wanted to know, picking Fili’s ancient backpack in the corner and inspecting it with awe.

“No; my dad was,” Fili replied without looking up from the book he was trying to read. There was no need to encourage him by offering him attention.

A nod, but no further questions about his dad. Good. Perhaps the pixie could be trained.

The freeloader meanwhile was staring at Fili’s simple acoustic guitar. He reached for it, but stopped just short of touching.

Fili twitched, and realised that despite his expressed wishes, his eyes were following the stranger all around the room.

“Do you play?”

“Sometimes.”

“Would you play for me?”

“No.”

That got Fili a delighted smile, as if the pixie was expecting that response.

Definitely trainable. Now, how to make him sit?

“So you’re not a responder and you’re not a musician. What do you do all the way out here then?” came another, undeterred question.

Fili blinked. “I live here?”

“No, I know that. I meant: for a job.”

Mostly I try to get rid of people like you, Fili thought and considered if there was a politically correct way of expressing that sentiment.

The guy had to know. He just had to. Fili couldn’t remember the last time someone got genuinely, accidentally lost in his own, personal, remote corner of Norway.

Plenty of people got ‘lost’ on purpose though. All of them, incidentally, photographers. All of them very friendly. All of them looking for a guide. Some of them looking for more…

Fili was highly desirable in some circles and painfully aware of it.

Easily and by far the most experienced tracker in this part of the world, picky about who he worked with, but capable of setting up that perfect shot time and time again. With his beautiful house in a stunning location and intimate knowledge of some of the wildest mountain ranges on the planet, for a certain type of people, he was a dream.

“I know! You’re a photographer!” Fili was saved by Kili’s triumphant declaration from where he was staring at a close-up of a hare in the snow, one of many lining the walls.

“Sometimes,” Fili repeated cautiously.

Kili wasn’t quite right but he also wasn’t completely wrong.

Not many people knew that Fili took his own photos. But then again, not many people had made it inside the inner sanctum of Fili’s home. And those who did –

It was amazing what some people were willing to do for an award-winning shot.

The last guy who made it inside Fili’s home, stayed in his life, in his heart for over two years. Until one day, during a particularly good shoot he ran out of space on his camera, borrowed Fili’s memory card and never gave it back. And then he was gone.

He won the prestigious Photo of the Year Award with one of the shots on that card. Only it wasn’t his.

It was then that Fili decided he wasn’t going to do this anymore; he wasn’t going to do people. He and his heart were going to stay safely away from any attachments.

“Are you okay?” The question was surprisingly gentle and accompanied by a pair of dark, perceptive eyes.

Located less than a foot away from his face.

Fili flailed and almost fell off his own sofa.

“Sorry. You seemed lost in thought there.”

“I was,” he admitted, trying to act casual. The first rule of dog training was: establish who the boss is. Kili was not a dog (but then again, the eyes…), but it was the closest frame of reference Fili had.

“I was just saying that I’m into photography too!” Kili chirped. “Would you like to see some of my shots?”

Fili did not. He knew where this was going –

The camera thrust in his hands was expensive. Very expensive; in fact, it might have been the latest model. Definitely professional.

Fili’s heart sank.

Bewildered, Fili telegraphed a confused ‘WTF’ at his own emotional landscape.

The photos, by contrast, were… terrible. Amateurish and curiously mundane collection of roads, smudged trees, people waving, a sparrow, a pine cone, something that might have been a squirrel at least a mile away, interspersed with an occasional selfie in front of various town signs.

Fili’s heart played a fanfare.

Fili re-iterated the ‘WTF’ message.

“What do you think?” Came an unusually hesitant question from right over Fili’s shoulder.

I think that you’re either incredibly clever, or you’re punching waaay above your weight, Fili thought.

“I think they’re nice,” his mouth said.

It was in that moment that Fili realised he was screwed.

---

By afternoon Kili gave in and reached for the guitar.

Fili let him have it. Firstly, because he figured that to get it back he’d have to wrestle the pixie (they would, they just would, and that was way too much contact for Fili’s rapidly worsening condition) and secondly, because it kept his hands occupied and his mind focussed on trying to assemble the notes into the most hair-rising cacophony Fili had ever heard.

That left him free to execute a tactical retreat into the kitchen area, from where, wielding various pots and pans and feeling marginally safer for it, Fili cautiously observed his leprechaun.

He looked so innocent like that: slightly lost and devastatingly hopeful, like he desperately needed someone to make sure he didn’t fall in the nearest hole and die, someone to lo –

Fili abruptly squeezed the halved lemon he was holding, narrowly missing his own eye with the squirting juice.

He took a deep breath, braced himself and looked again.

He looked like whoever he loved, he’d love with his whole heart.

Fili slammed the oven door with a lot more force than strictly necessary and stopped himself short of growling.

In front of him, in deep, melodious voice, Kili started humming some ancient ballad. It wasn’t even off-key.

Fili reached for the whiskey.

---

Presented with Fili’s simple lemon and herb chicken, the freeloader inhaled his portion as if he hadn’t eaten for a week and then proceeded to throw longing glances back towards the pan.

Fili watched him for a moment, playing a silent game of ‘will he? Won’t he?’ and then decided to up the stakes by nudging it slightly in his direction.

So that was the chicken gone. Was there something in the lore about not offering any food to a pixie?

Then again, at this stage, what else could possibly go wrong?!

Lots, as it turned out.

After dinner Kili decided that they needed to decorate.

Why they needed to do it, Fili had no idea. Granted, it was almost Christmas, but ever since he went back to living on his own, Fili didn’t bother. He didn’t see the point; the clutter only needed taking down after a few weeks.

He asked about it and got a rambling response, from which his compromised mind only managed to fish out: “Please”.

Somehow, that prompted him to climb back into his loft, where, after some digging, he’d managed to locate the long-forgotten box of ornaments.

Moments later he found himself untangling the Gordian Knot of All Things Cheerfully Flickering and absolutely not watching Kili’s arse (pert, shapely, where did those legs even begin?!), while his pixie channelled a mountain goat and climbed all over the wooden beams and rafters of his home to fix the lights in place.

At least that seemed to tire him out.

Unnervingly quiet, Kili sighed dramatically and leaned heavily against the frame of the giant French door to Fili’s balcony, from which spot he proceeded to watch the fat snowflakes still stubbornly carpeting the world and look unreasonably attractive, illuminated by the soft glow of a thousand fairy light strings.

Fili sighed too and padded to the kitchen to fix him a hot cocoa.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, carefully handing over the steaming mug.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just that I only booked the hostel for three nights, and now it looks like for two of them I won’t even manage to get there.” Kili gave a humourless laugh. “I was planning to explore the mountains, get lost in the wilderness, where nobody could find me. See if I could find myself instead,” he whispered.

Fili looked out into the darkness, where the faint outline of the peaks was only accentuated by the lighter shade of the turbulent skies above them.

“You do know that it’s all private property, right?” he said, softer than he’d intended.

“What?!” Kili gaped. “But the website said: ‘enjoy the great outdoors! Connect with the nature –‘”

Fili shrugged. “You can connect with all twenty yards of it, in any direction. They have less than half an acre.”

Kili stared at him with such utter betrayal in his eyes that for a moment Fili hated himself.

He gave his pixie a sad smile and gently patted his shoulder. “Want to see what’s on the telly?” he muttered, in a transparent attempt at a distraction.

Kili didn’t look like he did, but he followed anyway.

Fili had purchased the land a few years back.

Having led countless nature documentary crews, photographers and adventurers, he’d seen it all: animals baited with food or downright herded in front of the camera, changes to their habitat when the lens made them famous, destruction of the very environment that was being documented. The wild wasn’t left wild any more. And the people who caused it, constituted the sum total of Fili’s interactions with humanity.

So one day, Fili simply quit. He used the small fortune he’d earned to buy up as much wilderness as he could, set up a fence around it all, a system of cameras, registered it as a Wildlife Sanctuary and banned anyone from entering his little corner of nature.

Today, some of the animals he guarded were the last of their species.

And Fili was fairly certain he was the last of his species too.

---

The leprechaun was snoring.

That wasn’t even the most distressing part; it was the fact that Fili found it to be comforting.

At first they were watching side by side; Kili had nested, having accumulated various pillows and throws from all over Fili’s house, but at that point Fili almost expected him to.

Then a heavy weight leaned against Fili’s side and seemed to curl into it. Fili frowned and threw a confused glance to his right, where he was met with a pair of huge, silently questioning, dark eyes.

Fili lost that one. The weight settled.

Then, with a tired sigh, a head was rested on top of his shoulder.

Fili twitched, but didn’t object. His pixie was warm, and besides, there was a precarious balance to their arrangement which he dared not disturb.

When a lanky arm was flung across Fili’s mid-section some half an hour later, Fili capitulated, switched off the TV and allowed himself to be slowly toppled over, until they were more or less horizontal.

If he pulled the blanket over the stranger’s shoulders and carefully spread it over his legs, it was only because if he got ill, he’d probably have to stay for longer and freeload some more.

If he wrapped his arms around the warm body next to him, it was just to make sure that Kili didn’t fall off the sofa in the middle of the night, like he was fairly sure he would.

And maybe, just a tiny bit, because he remembered the forlorn expression from earlier and it just didn’t sit right with him.

---

Fili woke up alone.

He was on his sofa and there were two thick blankets tucked up meticulously around his body, all the way to his ears.

He yawned, nuzzled deeper into his covers and considered if it was possible that he’d dreamt up a hot leprechaun.

The cheerfully twinkling interior of his house seemed to be a proof to the contrary.

Fili sat up, stretched and looked around, but there was no sign of Kili anywhere.

Oh, his mind observed intelligently and Fili remembered how he’d wished that the guy would find his own way out only yesterday. They always leave sooner or later, his heart whispered.

Fili rubbed at his chest as if he had an old injury there and pushed himself up to his feet. He wondered idly if there was something in the lore about pixies disappearing at midnight, or if that was some other fairy tale altogether.

It wasn’t until he was fetching the eggs for his breakfast that Fili spotted the familiar figure sitting on the snow-covered steps into his garden, wearing nothing but his stretched jumper.

Something blossomed under his ribs, suspiciously like happiness and terrifyingly addictive.

Fili stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

Instead he pushed the door open and waded outside.

The snowfall must have stopped sometime in the night, because not even the finest of the glittering powder disturbed the crisp, cold air. The world was eerily still and quiet, bathed in the brilliant sun, out like a spotlight to shine upon Fili’s personal freeloader.

Kili’s eyes were full of longing as they followed the jagged mountain edges, wrapped in the last of the curling mist and sparkling in the reflection on the water of the lake below.

“What are we doing?” Fili asked, mainly for something to say.

Kili blinked, peered up at him and grinned. “Watch!”

And then he dipped a bright pink straw (where did he even get it from?!) into Fili’s favourite enamel mug and carefully blew out a perfectly round, sizeable bubble right onto the fresh snow nearby.

As Fili watched, the filigree stars of frost appeared on the surface, swirled around for a moment, before blooming like flowers and spreading to cover the entire surface area of the bubble. They both held their breath, but it didn’t last more than a handful of seconds before it burst.

“Did you know they could do that?! I didn’t!” Kili blew out another two, watched them settle and picked up his expensive camera to try and catch them freezing.

Fili gingerly sat down next to him, transfixed by the magic before his eyes.

There was joy about the other man; joy and hope and strength and quiet delight, as if the events of last night never happened, a quirky personality and an unexpected depth beneath it all, and Fili felt himself drawn to it, realised that he wanted to be a part of it, a catalyst for it, if he could manage it. Whatever Kili really was, he was 100% of it.

“I’m not really a photographer,” Fili said into the soft silence around them, because his heart wanted to have its answers. “I’m a mountain guide. Or I was. Now I’m more of a caretaker; all of this is mine,” he waved a hand vaguely at the landscape before them and waited for the inevitable.

“Oooooh! Why didn’t you say sooner?!” Kili’s face lit up. “There’s still a day or two left, maybe longer, if I’m lucky! Are you available for hire?”

Fili watched the last of the bubbles burst and deflate into a thin film of frost.

“Get out,” he whispered.

“But –“

“You almost had me. Overdone it on the surprise just now, but ten out of ten on the prep. Excellent lost tourist routine,” he hissed, getting up to his feet and marching back to his house to retrieve the guy’s things.

“What ‘routine’?!” Kili waded after him. “I’m just –“

“Yes, I know! ‘Into photography’. I knew all along – you’re hardly the first one to try it. And by the way, those photos are shit, so I hope they were just a part of the decoy!”

“Actually –“

Fili definitely preferred the ones who jumped his fences or tried to disable the cameras. He just didn’t understand why it was necessary to involve his heart in the whole kerfuffle. It had only worked once - did they really think he was desperate enough to be fooled again?!

“Get off my property right now or I’m going to press charges! And don’t even think about trespassing on my land,” he growled, before shoving the backpack, the fur-lined coat and the goddamn knitted scarf at Kili and frog-marching him to his front door.

“I don’t understand! I’m just a backpacker, I swear! All I’m interested in is a bit of a hike!” Kili whined, now safely past Fili’s threshold.

“My ass!” Fili hissed and shut the door in his face.

“That too,” came from the other side.

Fili opened the door. “What?!”

“What?!”

The huge, brown eyes proclaimed utter innocence. Kili <i>could</i> and probably frequently did get away with murder.

The brunet raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’ll go, I’ll go! I’m going now.” He took a few steps walking backwards and then finally turned.

Fili watched him. He wasn’t past the gate yet.

He was right.

“You could come with me, you know!” Kili tried one last time, whirling around again, his backpack hoisted on one shoulder. “We could have adventures! Just you and me! Doesn’t have to be here, if you feel so strongly about this land. But we could find… somewhere.”

There it was again. He’d been hurt, but he recovered, because he found something else more important to him, that was still worth fighting for.

In another unauthorised emotional response, Fili realised he felt something like admiration for the guy, when he should have been feeling only angry and hurt.

He tried to respond, but whatever he was going to say in reply with was lost in the steadily approaching whirr of a rotor.

Fili squinted at the sky, where his personal airspace was being disturbed, most unusually, by a helicopter.

He wasn’t looking – that was his excuse – which was why, when Kili appeared out of nowhere and yanked him out the door by his wrist, Fili let himself be pulled away.

“Quick! Into the forest! Before they spot us!”

“Who are these people?” Fili demanded.

“My enemies!” Kili declared, ducking under a woefully threadbare pine tree.

“Your Royal Highness. It is time to go home,” sounded a megaphone announcement in a thick, Scottish accent.

Fili stared.

Kili whined. “Is there a cave somewhere nearby? Maybe like a big one, that you know very well and they don’t?”

“No. No, cave.” Fili continued to stare.

“You. Blondie. Relinquish the Prince. We are authorised to open fire. I repeat: relinquish Prince Kilian immediately,” the megaphone demanded.

Kili whined again –

“Relinquish –“

- And seemed to make up his mind.

He snogged Fili hard, a little too hard perhaps, if the taste of copper in Fili’s mouth was any indication. But it was warm and real and full of emotions that Fili was going to spend weeks untangling.

“I gotta go,” the heir to the throne of Norway whispered against his lips.

“You do?” Fili found himself saying.

“Fucks’ sakes, Kili!” the megaphone blared at them both.

Kili growled, turned and strutted out into the open. “I am entirely relinquished!” he announced. “God damn it, Dwalin, I was having a moment!”

---

Three weeks later.

Fili found the freeloader in the morning.

This time he only sighed, resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going away. He prodded the sleeping form with the tip of his shoe and sat himself cross-legged on the floor next to his visitor.

“Did you run away from home again?”

“Mhmmm,” came a sleepy reply.

“Are they going to come in their chopper and try to storm my house?”

“Not for a while yet. Dwalin will think that I couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to run to the same place twice.”

Fili nodded, more to himself than for Kili’s benefit.

“Are you going to try and get in my Wildlife Sanctuary?”

“Is your balcony off limits? The garden?”

“No, those are fine.”

“Then no.”

Fili gave another thoughtful nod.

“Fili?”

He turned to eye the lump next to his hip.

“Would you like me to kiss you again?”

Fili felt the corner of his mouth quirk upwards.

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

---

Five years later.

Fili felt proud of himself.

The wedding had been a scandal. First openly gay member of the royal family. First royal gay marriage. The line of succession in tatters. And that was before Kili’s ultimatum about the 6 months of ‘private leave’ per year or else he abdicate altogether.

“You’re like the bloody Cinderella,” he told the lump in his bed, a lump that he was firmly spooning. “Back in your pumpkin carriage at midnight,” he grumbled.

“If I’m the Cinderella then Dwalin makes for a shit Fairy Godmother,” came a sleepy response.

Fili snorted.

He tried to resist, he really did, but his happy ending had gotten to him anyway.

In the course of the first two years, Kili had managed to run away from home and ‘get lost’ on Fili’s property twenty seven times. “Is this the hostel?” became both their traditional greeting and a bit of an inside joke.

It got to the point where Fili bought his own megaphone and was casually trumpeting back at the helicopter whenever it came to fetch the wayward prince.

The responses varied from: “He’s not coming out, I’ve introduced him to hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream and he’s offered to pay me in blow jobs,” to: “now listen here, I’m the hostage in this situation and need to be relinquished immediately! Take him away!”

After that they got engaged and Kili insisted it was no longer abduction if it was his fiancée.

Kili did learn how to take decent photos under Fili’s watchful eye, though a comforting portion of his shots remained blurred, too close, too far, or prosaically wonderful iterations of the same vistas over and over again.

He was also allowed into the Sanctuary after all, on the condition that he strictly followed Fili’s lead, his rules and generally disturbed as little as possible. Fili declared it his engagement present.

They stayed engaged for three years. Plenty of time for Fili to make sure that his heart was safe and that he wouldn’t have to change who he was. That it drove the tabloids and Kili’s family wild was an added bonus.

Kili joked that it was his wedding gift that finally made Fili say “I do.”

He’d been buying up patches of wilderness up and down the country ever since he realised why Fili was acting so protective of his Sanctuary. By the time he’d managed to bundle it all neatly up into a Consort’s Trust, he had enough to start their own little kingdom.

Fili said it changed the industry.

Kili wouldn’t know; he was too busy living his ‘happily ever after’.

#Gathering 12 Days 2019 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #The Hobbit

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sansfangirl4life-blog · 6 years ago

Text

LostTale Chapter 3

A, we finally get to see what Sans does with all that time in the woods!

Losttale is mine :3

Chapter 3: The Demon of the Woods

Toriel watched as Hope ran about in the kitchen, moving almost with inhuman speed. "My slow down child!"

"Nope! These cookies can't wait!" Hope beamed, her bright yellow oven mitts covering her hands. "I wanna make them for someone!"

"Oh, and who could that be, hmm~? Is it a boy~?" Toriel grabbed Hope and tickled her gently, making her laugh.

"N-No Mama Tori! For a fr-friend!" She said between giggles. Toriel let her go and she bagged the fresh cookies. "And done! I'll see you later Mama Tori!" She kissed her cheek and ran outside. Toriel chuckled as she ran off, cleaning up after the young girl. Gaster came downstairs, adjusting his black coat.

"She's off already? That child has so much energy sometimes...." Gaster chuckled.

"Indeed. But better this than sick and in bed." Toriel handed him a small cookie and a cup of mayo with a straw in it. "I will never understand you and your brother's obsessions with food."

"Hey, 'mayo' learn the greatness of this stuff one day." He winked as he sucked it down, taking a small bite of his cookie. "Wow, she outdid herself today..." He said with a gentle smile. "She's such a sweet girl."

"That she is....and the answer is still no Gaster."

"Toriel, why not? She doesn't-"

"It's because of this that I stand firm. I'd rather she spend her days here...with us....then give her false hope." Toriel narrowed her eyes, soft gray shimmering with unshed tears. "I lost three children and I'm going to lose a fourth Gaster.....I...." Gaster walked over and pulled the sweet monster into a hug.

"It'll be alright Toriel. I'll think of something.....I swear it."

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

Hope moved anxiously through the woods, keeping a sharp eye out as she found the blue flowers. "Sans! Are you there Sans?!" She called out, holding the small bag close.

"Didn't we tell you to fuck off kid?" Red floated down, his eye showing his annoyance.

"Hi Red!"

"Red? The fuck is a Red?"

"That would be you silly. And she called me Blue the other day....I assume she wishes to call us this." Blue floated down and Hope sat in the flowers, smiling at the two. "But Red is right child. We told you not to return, Master insisted on it."

"Well....too bad!" She smiled and both blasters rolled their eyes. "So where's Sans? I brought him something!" Both blasters turned to each other anxiously and shook their heads.

"Master's-"

"He's out hunting ya damned nuisance." Red cut Blue off, looking away.

"Hunting? Like for deer or duck? Uncle Gaster tells me people do that sometimes, just not in the woods here...." Hope opened the bag and held out two cookies. "You both want one?" Blue carefully floated over and took the cookie in her teeth, swallowing it as crumbs fell underneath her jaws. "Messy!"

"Sorry child....this is rather good though." She complimented and Hope blushed, her red and blue eyes gazing at the ground. Red huffed and took the other one, chomping loudly. "Manners Red!"

"Don't give a shit."

"Language!"

"Fuck you!" Hope giggled and watched as Blue's eye glowed. She fired a large blast, and Red seemed to suddenly vanish into dust. Hope laughed as Blue snorted, turning back to Hope.

"Wh-wh-why did you do that?" She asked in the middle of her giggling.

"He deserved it."

"I did not! You're one crazy bitch Blue!" Red snapped, reappearing just as quickly. Blue narrowed her eye and he backed up. "I meant that in a caring way!"

"You? Caring? Please." Blue snorted and Hope continued to laugh at the antics of the blasters. As they argued, Hope glanced into the woods.

I wonder where Sans is.....

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

Close.....they're close by. Red and blue eyes scanned the forest below him, his legs hanging from a branch in the trees. He held his scythe, gripping it as red painted the handle. He squeezed harder, blood leaking between his fingers and dripping slowly onto the branch. Ah....there. He watched as a frantic young man ran through the woods and he landed silently behind him. Do you feel them? He wondered as the human sensed him and turned around.

"AHH!" The young man turned, swinging a fist but Sans caught it , snapping the bones with ease. The young man howled in pain, cradling his shattered wrist and stepping back, brown eyes wide. "G-get away from me you freak!" Sans didn't reply, simply moving closer as the human took off in a dead run. Lost leapt into the air, floating as he followed from the shadows.

Good....I love a good chase. He thought with a grin. The human ran, trying to lose him in the bushes and shadows of the woods. You cannot hide from me. Your sins are thick around you.... He leapt down and landed near him as he lead him against the mountain side.

"Please don't kill me!" The young man begged. "I-I haven't-" The man tripped and began to scoot away as Sans got closer, his eyes glowing in the shadows of the woods. "Wh-what the fuck are you?!" Sans stopped briefly and adjusted his scarf, showing fangs as he spoke.

"Judgement." He said softly, his voice empty and quiet.

"No...no wait-" Sans brought his scythe across the neck of the human, severing his head with ease. He gripped his chest and looked at his LVL.

LVL 16 now. He thought. He shook his head and walked away as large, hulking figures descended upon the dead body. He passed them by as they skirted around him, fear evident in their aura's. As he walked, he then heard soft giggling and hid behind a tree. No.....she didn't..... He peeked and saw the little girl from the day before, laughing and talking to his blasters. She did. But....but why? I told her to leave...does she not know who I am? Just.....who I was? He stepped out, but remained in the shadows. So this is where you two vanished too....

"M-Master!" Blue stopped flailing, Red attached to her head. She shook him off and flew over. "Forgive us if you called! For you see-"

"This little fleshy shit bag kid showed back up and-"

"LANGUAGE RED!"

"I SAID SCREW OFF BLUE!"

SILENCE BOTH OF YOU!!!!! The blasters and Hope flinched at his commanding tone. You two know to come when called upon.

"Forgive us Master...but she-"

"Hi Sans!" Hope stood up and moved to the edge of the flower patch, smiling gently. "I uhh....was waiting for you and Red and Blue were playing with me!"

Red and....Blue? He couldn't stop himself as he glanced at the blasters in an amused manner. Heh...to be so young it seems....

"Umm....I was wondering. Do you...want any cookies?" He turned to see her holding out a bag with a blue ribbon on it, a few cookies still in the bag. "They're not warm anymore, but I thought you'd-"

No. Hope flinched a bit at his tone. I do not need them.

"B-but I-"

No. Now go home and do not return here. As Sans made to turn around Hope stomped her bare foot and puffed her cheeks.

"You can't boss me around! I'll come when I wanna!" Sans turned his head, red eye glowing angrily but she refused to flinch. "I want to get to know you better. You saved me yesterday after all...."

I saved no one. You were just here....an inconvenience. He replied and that made Hope flinch. Now leave this place.

"Ok I'll go...see you tomorrow Sans!" She turned and left, waving as she went. Sans watched her go and sighed.

"Master, this brat is going to return."

I know that. Sans glanced at Red as he sat in the flowers. Why is she so damned persistent?

"She is human Master.....are they not all like this?" Blue asked and he sighed.

True. He sighed and leapt into a tree, resting on a branch. Well I will not be held accountable for whatever happens to her.

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

Hope huffed as she walked back home, cookie bag in hand. "That butthead!" She scolded the ground, kicking a pebble away gently. "Stupid skeleton.....he doesn't-"

"Well well guys...look here!" Hope looked up and held the bag closer. A small group of boys and girls, monster and human alike, surrounded her. "If it isn't the demon...."

"I-I'm not a demon!" Hope said, shaking slightly. "Leave me alone..." As she tried to walk past, they pushed her to the ground. "Stop....please...."

"Aww, are you scared~?" One boy snatched her bag away and she struggled to get up. "Eww, more of these garbage cookies?" Before they could be crushed, a purple, cat like monster with three sets of yellow eyes appeared, knocking him to the ground.

"Vai!" Hope stood up as she grabbed her hand and ran off. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem." Hope helped her brush off her poncho and she smiled. "You ok?"

"Yup! Those bullies are so rude!" Hope turned and stuck her tongue out at the group. "So, why are you here?"

"Came to visit. Toriel said you were out." Vai said quietly and Hope giggled.

"Let's go home then!" Hope lead Vai along, unaware of red and blue eyes watching her from the edge of the forest.

Demon hmm? Hardly.....that would be.....me. Sans thought before going back into the shadows of the woods.

#losttale #undertale #undertaleau #lostsans #hope #toriel #gaster #redandblue

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